At the Brink (29 page)

My sex squeezed, giving his finger the equivalent of a very firm handshake. Pleasure bolted through me in dizzying waves. My hands closed around fistfuls of quilted fabric as his digit pumped in and out of me with exquisite gentleness. I let out a long breath, happily skewered, reassured now that some part of him filled the void in me.

With his free hand, he clasped one of my breasts and brought it to his mouth. I gasped at the feel of his lips fastening with incredible grit to my flesh. His mouth drew in my nipple, my areola, my soul. His teeth raked the stout little stalks that my nipples had become. Lightning struck in my mind, a memory of my breast, smeared in black and silver paint, and the storm building in me all over again. I hissed and dug my fingers into the mattress.

“Good,” he said, when my hips started to rock, following the movements of his hand. “You make me so goddamn hard when you move like that.”

I rolled my hips some more, for his pleasure, but also for mine. Confined to the bottom bunk, I felt protected and safe, like some ancient primordial creature nestled in her cave, devolved by need into my most primitive state, a female in the grips of an uncontrollable sexual urge driven by an insatiable need.

Soon enough, his fondling turned demanding, pumping an unbearable amount of pleasure into me. The tension built until I could no longer stay in control.

“Oh, my God, Josh, I have to come, please!”

“Then by all means, sweet.” His smile was sun and freedom. “You may come.”

The orgasm that walloped me blinded me to anything but the white light dazzling my senses. A hoarse groan strummed my vocal cords, scraped my throat and escaped my lips, the sound of runaway lust. I arched on the bed, clawing at the bedspread and writhing in his arms.

“One bunk down, three to go,” he murmured, caressing my hair and consuming my pleasure through his eyes.

My mind reeled and my body was still quavering from the orgasm when Josh helped me out of the bottom bunk and planted me in front of the wooden ladder.

“Up.” His arms braced me at the waist. “Come on.”

I grabbed the rail and lifted a shaking foot to the first rung. My sex still vibrated with the aftershocks. Darn it. The ladder seemed steep and long to my bedazzled eyes, even if it was slanted and it had only five rungs. I made it to the second rung before Josh stopped me.

“Wait.” He rolled my panties down my legs and took them off. “Nice.” He landed a slap on my bare ass, a playful smack that sent me scampering up the ladder.

I landed face down on the mattress, legs dangling down, feet frantically searching for purchase.

“Hang on.” He came up behind me and, appropriating the halves of my ass, opened me up as if my flesh was but a pair of curtains obscuring the view.

I wrapped my fingers around the railing on the opposite side of the bed and held on for dear life. His hands pressed at either side of my sex, stretching me apart. God help me, I couldn’t think of a more direct view of my private parts. And then I couldn’t think anymore. His mouth settled on my sex and his tongue, warm and slick, laved my center fold, lingering over my clit and teasing my opening, poking, pressing and altogether driving me insane. I’m not sure, but I might have screamed as I galloped from one orgasm to the next.

Whether I came soft and slow or fast and hard, the steady stream of orgasms eroded my will and turned me into a quivering, pleasure-wracked pile of flesh. My vocabulary was reduced to “yes,”

“right there,” and “please,” all rasped with either fervent enthusiasm or utter desperation. The top bunk wasn’t a bad place to hang out. And to think it was only two out of four.

Lying on my belly, trying to catch my breath while Josh pushed me beyond reason’s limits, I had a vision. Or maybe it was more like an out of body experience. For an instant, I saw us from above, Josh, fully dressed, put together and in charge; me naked, open legged and coming, completely shot out of my mind. This was the true trade between us; he, always perfect and in control while I came apart for him.

By the time Josh judged that the top bunk had served its function, I was a hot, sweaty mess. The world spun when he whirled me around and sat me up at the edge of the bunk. My body was slack in his arms, drained from energy and basking in the glow of my post-erotic stupor. In one swift motion, he tucked his shoulder under my belly and draped me over his back.

“Hey,” I protested, dangling upside down. “I can get down on my own.”

“I sincerely doubt it,” he said, stalking across the room.

I could’ve tried to free myself, but he was right, my knees were anything but steady and I felt safe in Josh’s arms for the duration of our quick trip up the second ladder. Well, at least my privates got a little break, with all my blood rushing in the opposite direction.

Josh was in a hurry, his movements efficient, his brow wrinkled in concentration, his sweats domed over his erection. I could tell by the set of his jaw that his need tested his control. And yet I knew better. The chances he’d deviate from the sexual fantasy he’d concocted in his mind were exactly zero.

With me in tow, he climbed up the ladder. He lay me down on my belly and, pushing my thighs together, braced his knees at either side of me. I heard rustling, craned my neck and caught a glimpse of Josh, loosening his drawstrings, wrestling his way out of his sweats. Holy Mother. His cock leaped out of his boxers fully formed and ready for action.

He scooped my hips between his hands and shoved his sex through the tight space between my legs. His cock stabbed into me, hot, hard and enormous. I cried out from the pleasure. His strokes drove through me, deep and thorough. I tried to brace on my elbows, but he held me down. My cheek pressed against the quilt and my chin rubbed against the seams at the steady cadence of his thrusts.

He didn’t speak, but he did stop a time or two, either to pace himself or to rearrange my limbs. I felt like a mannequin in his hands, an object used for his pleasure, an extension of the glorious cock rooted inside me. The problem? I didn’t have a problem with being his object. In fact, I loved it. The notion excited me to no end and drove me to a new level of naughtiness that released the sexual monster lurking in me and growing mightier by the stroke. I cried out “more” and “harder” even as he pounded into me. It was true. The lust-driven Jezebel overtaking me craved his come, not only in her pussy, but coating her mouth, dripping from her lips and glazing her breasts in a translucent gloss.

The vivid images almost did me in.

“Can I come?” I rasped, at the edge of delirium. “Can I please, please come?”

“Hang on.”

He braced his weight on his elbows and flattened over me. My entire body yielded beneath him. My thighs inched apart under his last, powerful strokes. My sex accepted not only his size and thrusts, but also his balls, pressing against my ass. His cock shuddered deep inside me and, once again, I came undone, although this time I had a secret milestone to celebrate. On bunk number three, I made Josh come along with me.

It took a while for both of us to recover. At some point, Josh’s weight lifted off me. He sprawled next to me, chest rising and falling under his T-shirt, eyes closed, face gleaming with sweat in the aftermath of our furious lovemaking.

Perhaps we slept a little, I’m not sure, but it was late when Josh led me down the ladder. I was still in a daze, so my descent was more of a sudden plunge. Josh caught me at the foot of the ladder, where he propped me against a narrow rung and guided my sex firmly onto the brand new shiny erection he pulled out of his sweats.

I fell into place. The impact sent me reeling into yet another orgasmic spasm. Josh held on to me as I rattled off a fresh crop of pulsations. Every molecule in my being vibrated into a pinging pitch and joined the frenzy.

“You didn’t ask permission for that one,” he mumbled between hot, wet kisses.

How could I, when I had no control of my body?

“No more until I say so,” he said. “You got that?”

He might as well have asked me to serve him a slice of the moon. I clutched the railing and dared to glance down. The full length of his sex splashed in and out of me, glimmering with my juices. I closed my eyes and savored the thrill coursing through my body. Some people jumped off cliffs or relied on parachutes for their adrenaline rush. I had Josh.

How long I hung from that ladder, I’d never know. I was too busy running our sexual marathon. I was vaguely aware that we were in between bunks, but whether this counted as this bunk or that, I didn’t care.

I spied Josh’s face between my lashes. His lips tightened into a white line, his irises were almost black and the veins on his neck bulged as he drove into me with disciplined intensity. Exhausted from holding back and maddened with desire, I wrapped my legs around his waist and bore down on him, a blatant attempt to disturb his astounding self-control.

He flashed his sexy smirk. “You’re
not
taking over.”

He was onto me.

He clasped his hands under my ass and carried me a few steps. His heavy cock fell out of me and disappeared into his sweats before he lowered me into the bunk next door. I whimpered at his absence, at the sudden emptiness inside.

“Not enough?”

I shook my head, reeling from the abrupt loss.

“Good.” He deposited me on the bed, smiling. “Because that little cunt of yours is a fucking delight and I’m far from done.”

What was it about his dirty talking that had my heart racing and our combined juices dripping down my thighs?

Josh stripped the flannel top from me and discarded it on the floor.

“Arms up.” He tucked my hands into one of the wooden beams that held the mattress above and wrapped my fingers around the plank. “Don’t let go.”

I found myself naked, stretched out between the bunks and balancing on my knees. The mattress dipped behind me as he settled on his shins and pushed his thighs between my legs. I craned my neck and spotted his cock sticking out of his pants.

Dear God. This was an orgy—an exclusive, two person orgy perhaps—but an orgy nevertheless, if frequency counted in the definition. Could I really take him in when he was so hugely aroused and my pussy had been so thoroughly worked over?

He planted his hands at either side of my waist, lifted my ass and angled my hips backward. I whimpered when he entered me from behind. His cock pressed into me, pushed through my swollen tissues and stretched my sensitized vagina in a journey that left me panting.

“Too much?”

“No,” I mumbled, my sex tightening. “I want more.”

His cock transferred his laughter’s vibration into my overwrought pussy. I hissed, vibrating myself. He peppered my back with random kisses that tapped on my skin soft and warm like summer droplets. His hands caressed my torso, ran down my back and stroked my belly. He massaged my knotted shoulders as if I were a boxer about to step back into the ring.

He reached around, cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples, making them bloom between his thumb and his forefingers until I yelped. Then he released my nipples and his mouth settled to nibble on the sensitive spot behind my ear while his fingers grew my clit into a blazing flame.

I threw my head back and squealed. “Oh, God, yes!”

His breath gusted in my ear. “Do you want me to fuck you some more?”

“Please.”

“Please yourself, Lily.” He grabbed my hips and guided them in a delicious figure eight over his lap. “Come on, sweet, move.”

And move I did, a capable bouncer on his knees, a true lap dancer guided by instinct and fortified by the instant rewards that riding his cock granted my body. I was so glad we were a half a mile away from the house. No matter how hard I pressed my lips together, I couldn’t silence the emotions welling in me. They came out in moans and whimpers, in squeals and cries for mercy that were anything but, as miles of solid cock split my sex and drove up a path that inevitably included a direct run on my G-spot.

God help me. How was I supposed to hang on like this?

I tried to focus on something other than the orgasm threatening to blow me up. My eyes drifted over to the wall. I did a double take. Was I dreaming? A tiny heart was carved on the wood paneling. Inside of it, the initials J&L appeared freshly carved.

My pulse bolted. My orgasm escaped. I bore down on Josh, my body vaulting into yet a new level of pleasure. My eyes closed as bliss enveloped me, and yet the image of that sweet little heart lingered, engraved in my brain like the fond memories of a careless summer.

“Thank you,” I rasped.

Josh squeezed my hips and slammed me down on his lap, shuddering between my thighs. His teeth sank in the back of my neck, not painfully, but firmly. It was his tiger, dominating the tigress in me. As his come shot up my channel and flooded my sex, I convulsed on the fourth bunk, embracing not just Josh, but all the gifts he’d given me tonight.

In the aftermath, I wilted on the bed and curled next to him. He kissed the top of my head, rearranged me against him and gathered me to his chest. I was exhausted, but my body hummed with satisfaction and my mind was finally at peace. I was glad I hadn’t run away the moment I discovered he’d brought me to his parents’ house.

Four bunks, a sex marathon and an orgy for two. That’s what Josh had planned for tonight, to distract me from the stress of meeting his family and also to welcome me home. But whether he knew it or not, each bunk had taught me a lesson. Best of all, he’d offered me his heart and carved his initials on mine. And that, I’d never forget.

“Top or bottom?” Josh murmured in my ear. “Which one did you like best?”

“Not fair,” I said. “You knew the answer from the beginning.”

“Which is?”

I smiled and planted a kiss on the curve of his jaw. “The one with you in it.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Lily

Josh wasn’t in the cabin when I woke up, but he’d left me a note next to the empty coffee pot.
Out for a run,
the note said.
Wait for me here.

Where did he get his energy from?

I was slow to get up and even slower getting out from the bunk where—after our stints in the other three bunks, I’d spent a good part of the night on my back with my knees parted and my mouth crammed full, pinned down in a relentless but glorious sixty-nine.

After finishing my morning toilette, I checked my phone. I was sure the text there was from Josh, but when I pulled it up, it was from a number I didn’t recognize.

Dear greedy whore
,
the text read.
You’re just a money-hungry slut, sucking and fucking your way up the ladder. Your streak is almost over. Time to exit, before you’re flushed down the drain like you deserve.

With trembling fingers, I hit the number and placed a call back. The phone rang three times and then an automated message clicked on, telling me that the number I’d dialed was no longer in service. I thought about the officer at the community relations desk. She hadn’t done anything about my door. Would she find reason to investigate now?

I had a murky list of suspects, no proof, a disconnected number and only hollow accusations to make. I couldn’t tell Josh. He’d get mad at me for not telling him before. I didn’t want to ruin his day with his family, either. Besides, what was he going to do that I couldn’t do on my own?

I wasn’t going to let the text ruin my day. I’d try the officer at the police station again when I got back. My stomach was still in knots and my nerves were frayed, so I decided to go for a walk before Josh came back.

I didn’t intend to go very far. I put on my tennis shoes, threw my coat on over my flannel pajamas and trapped my hair in a messy bun at the top of my head. I headed away from the house, following the lakeshore, my feet disrupting the patches of fog lingering on the ground.

I stopped for a moment to enjoy the views, the lake, the mountain, the cabin... I knew this place! This was the setting of the picture Josh had showed me that day at his office when he brought me back from the brink of a panic attack. One of Emma’s children was probably the budding artist responsible for it.

Fifteen minutes into my walk, I regretted not wearing gloves, a sweater and a hat. My nose was freezing, my ears ached and my fingertips went numb. As I went around the lake bend, I spotted a building ahead. It was a large greenhouse and it looked warm.

The door was unlocked. I went in. “Hello?”

No one answered. The air was warm and pleasantly perfumed. I looked around and I saw that the greenhouse held roses, and not just regular roses, but rather row after row of perfectly organized roses, divided into sections by color and species and pruned to the same exact height and shape.

“Who the hell are you?”

I whirled around to confront a tall man who looked a lot like Josh, except for his bristling white hair and the deeper lines radiating from the corner of his eyes. He wore work boots, jeans and a camo combat jacket. He was Josh...thirty years from now.

I felt totally inadequate meeting Josh’s legendary father looking as if I’d just gotten out of bed, which I had.

“Um, hello,” I mumbled. “You must be The General. I’m Lily. I came with Josh?”

“Lily.” He clasped his hands behind his back and circled around me, inspecting me from head to toe. “Last name?”

“Boswell.”

“Age?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Education?”

“Art,” I said. “Masters in fine arts...sir.”

“At ease.” He stopped before me. “What are you doing here?”

“I took a walk, and I got cold, and it looked warm in here.”

“Well, what do you think?” He stretched a muscled arm, inviting me to walk with him along an immaculate soapstone counter that ran the length of the greenhouse.

“Lots of roses,” I said, trying to keep up with his long strides. “Very organized.”

“Organization is at the root of success,” he said. “Chaos is the greatest enemy. Do you like roses, Boswell?”

“To be honest,” I said, “I haven’t really had much experience with roses.”

“I like roses,” he said. “They’re a reliable flower. They’ll be fair to you if you’re fair to them. And they’ll bloom for you if you treat them right.”

“Have you been growing roses for a long time?”

“Five years,” he said. “Since I retired from Phoenix Prime. I’ve been best of show every year.”

“You must love it then.”

“Nope,” he said. “I actually hate growing roses. All that fuss about compost, manure and phosphorus fertilizing. It’s all a pile of crap, literally. But a man needs a challenge to keep the body fit and the mind working, and this one’s mine.”

“Okay.” I mean, what else could I have said to that?

He halted by a workbench, took off his gloves and jacket and, grabbing a steaming pot of coffee from a hot plate, offered me some without words.

“Yes, please.” I could’ve drunk the entire pot plus a shot of whisky at the moment.

He selected a mug from a line of identical mugs stamped with the Marine Corps’ seal and poured. “How’s Josh?”

“Josh is doing okay.”

He handed me a full mug, no sugar, no cream, no nothing. “Health?”

“He’s good.” I gulped down the bitterest, most terrible cup of coffee I’d ever had the misfortune of tasting. “Doesn’t sleep much, you know Josh.”

“I do,” The General said. “Work?”

“Work is demanding.” I tried not to gag as the coffee seared my gullet and scorched my stomach. “Long hours.”

“Excellent performance last year,” he said. “Going for a record this year. Work is good for a man. Don’t you think?”

“Work is good,” I agreed on principle, “but not all the time, not at that level of intensity either.”

“I didn’t leave Phoenix Prime in his hands just so that he could be lazy,” The General said.

“Josh, lazy?” I gave a strangled laugh. “I don’t think that would ever be a problem.”

“I expect nothing but the highest performance from him.”

“But hopefully not at the expense of your son’s health and happiness.”

The General’s eyes narrowed on me. “I think work keeps a man alive.”

“If that’s the case,” I said, “Josh is going to live to eight hundred.”

He shoved his hands in his gardening gloves and, grabbing a menacing pair of pruning shears, stomped off. “You sound just like him, insubordinate little jarhead he was. What are you waiting for, a printed invitation? With me, Boswell.”

“Um, okay.” I set my coffee cup aside and followed him down the aisle.

“Did you know that boy joined the Navy just to rile me?”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

“I told him to join the Marines. I mean, the Marines are—well—the Marines.”

I tried to keep up.

“But no, he wanted nothing to do with
my
branch of the service.” He halted suddenly before a section where a bloom of amber roses was in full progress. “And do you know why?”

I shook my head and kept my mouth shut.

“Because
I
was in the Marine Corps.” The General clipped a rose from one bush, moving down the line to clip the next rose, and then the next, like a clipping machine. “Who in their right mind would choose the Navy over the Marines? Hold these.” He deposited the cut roses in my hands. “Do you know why he did that?”

“No idea,” I said, pulling my sleeves over my hands, trying to avoid the thorns.

“He did it because he had a chip on his shoulder, that’s why.”
Click
. “He didn’t want my help.”
Click, click, click.
“He didn’t want people saying he was given advantages because he was
my
son. So my own goddamn son chose to go into the Navy ’cause he wanted to make it on his own. Can you believe that?”

Knowing Josh, yes, I could totally believe it.

“The Navy.” He scoffed, waiving the shears recklessly in the air. “The goddamn Navy.”

“I hear he did really well in the Navy.” I ducked the dangerous shears. “First in his Naval Academy class, youngest Naval Special Warfare Officer ever, youngest commander in the history of the SEALs, and all those medals.”

“Precisely my point.” The General stalked back up the aisle, motioning for me to follow. “He had the stuff to be a marine.”

“Mac was in the Marines,” I said, depositing the roses in the sink.

“You’ve met Mac? A fine marine.”

“He says that Josh was the best.”

The General suppressed a smile. I saw pride in his eyes, and pain too, along with regret, as he bunched the flowers into a manageable bundle and wrapped the stems in brown paper. “Mac’s right. Josh was the best. My boy’s tough, he won’t stay down.” He ripped off the gloves and poured himself another cup of the toxic coffee. “More?”

Yikes. I retrieved my cup from the counter and pretended to sip on it. “I still have some, thank you.”

“You don’t like my coffee?”

I forced myself to swallow a great big gulp without gagging. “It’s the stuff of legend, I’m sure.”

He laughed, a startling sound, three loud cackles that ended with total silence. His brows knotted as he stared at me. “So,” he said. “Are you more than a pair of nice boobs and a shapely ass? Is there a brain between those frozen earlobes?”

I blushed like the reddest rose of the lot. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear the first question in order to answer your second.”

“Ah, a girl with wit.” He laughed again. “I like wit. It shows the mind’s not idle. Josh does stupid, but not for long. The boy doesn’t need another bimbo. My son is brilliant, but he can also be very stupid.”

“Josh is
not
stupid.” I flushed, but this time in anger. “He’s the smartest person I know. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call him names in my presence.”

The General’s eyebrows rose. “Feisty too. You might have made a good marine. But Josh is my son and I get to call it how I see it. Beside, your hips are too narrow anyway. You won’t birth me a strapping grandson any time soon.”

The far door banged on its hinges and Josh came marching down the aisle. He sported black thermal pants and a hoodie with the SEAL insignia on it. He also wore running shoes and a knitted cap. I couldn’t help thinking that he looked hot as he stopped before his father and gave him a smart salute.

“General,” he said.

His father returned the salute, then stepped forward, took Josh’s hand and hugged him, slapping him on the back. Something softened in his eyes, if only for a second. “Son.”

I looked from one man to the next and took it all in, how they related to each other, the precise, neat way in which they both dressed and carried themselves, the greenhouse’s meticulous organization... What was it that Bree had said?

People’s upbringing can define an individual’s need for control.

Bingo
.

“Good morning, Lily.” Josh’s face broke into a smile. “I see you’ve met my father.”

“That I have.”

“No harm done, I hope.” Josh took off his cap and released a cloud of steam from his head.

“Now what’s the matter with your hair, son?” The General stared at Josh. “You look like a shaggy dog.”

Josh raked his hand through his hair, making the sweat-soaked spikes stand every which way. “I was going to get a haircut but—”

“I like it that way,” I blurted out.

The gazes of both men fell on me.

“You brought home a pit bull in the guise of a poodle,” The General said. “The girl’s got guts, Josh. I’ve got no clue as to why she’d actually stand up for a son of a bitch like you, but she does. She’s way out of your class.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Josh flashed a smile. “That’s the goddamn truth.”

The General winked at me. “I found her half frozen and looking for warmth.”

I shook my head, pleading.

“She stole into my greenhouse frozen like an icicle.” He broke our brief truce. “Her earlobes were about to fall off.”

And I was hoping that after all that sex last night, things would go smoothly for me this morning.

“Why aren’t you wearing your gloves?” Josh said. “And where the hell is your hat?”

“I forgot them.” I scowled at The General.

The General clucked. “How careless of you. Which reminds me, I need to go.” He grabbed the roses from the sink. “Amber Flush. Evelyn wants them on the kitchen table in time for breakfast. She’s making Josh’s favorites, huevos rancheros and banana pancakes, but,” he added, smiling innocently, “breakfast won’t be ready for another forty-five minutes. So sayonara kids.” He headed for the door.

God. I gnawed on my lips. I was this close to swearing out loud, but the look that Josh gave me pummeled the breath out of my lungs.

“Off with your pants.” He picked me up with one arm and slid the pajama bottoms over my shoes as if I were as light as a plastic doll.

“But—”

“No buts.” He turned me around, propped up my knee on the soapstone counter and trapped me against it with his body. “As per my instructions, Miss Boswell, where are you supposed to be?”

“At the cabin?” I braced against the hard surface.

“Very good.” He rubbed his warm hand over my exposed sex.

Holy smokes. I melted in his hand, hissing from the pleasure.

“Easy, now,” he said, working me up. “Since you decided to venture outside on a frigid morning like today, what should you be wearing?”

I whimpered. “Gloves and hat?”

“Exactly.”

The rustle of fabric echoed, undoing me from the inside out.

“See?” Josh notched his cock inside. “You know these things and yet you seem to forget so easily. From now on, you won’t forget.”

“I won’t forget,” I mumbled. “I promise.”

“Excellent.” He breached me with one powerful, mind-blowing stroke. “But just in case,” he said, pulling out then thrusting back in me. “I’m going to make sure you remember.”

* * *

The lawn party at the Lanes’ house was a huge success. Hundreds of people gathered in the barn which had been obviously refurbished and repurposed for just this type of gathering. Evelyn’s kindness was evident as she greeted friends and relatives. She was no less kind to me, putting me to work serving strapping slices of cake, making me feel as if I were part of the family. I felt safe and busy in my little corner of the world, wearing the black and white dress and matching two-tone shoes that Josh had chosen for me.