Body Language: The Boot Knockers, Book 2 (14 page)

She pinched her clit between her fingers, trying to stave off the orgasm that was so close. She wanted more of Damian’s voice.

“Come for me, baby. I want to see you shatter.”

“Read,” she urged.

He flung the book across the room. “I’d rather eat your pussy.” He dived between her legs. On the edge of her hearing she noted the camera must be on automatic timer. He lifted her ass and feasted upon her.

Crying out, she bucked against his lips and tongue as some primitive need took over. She floated in an ether-world similar to when he’d taken her onstage.

Her orgasm rushed up fast and hard. She cried out as waves of release battered her. Before she could draw a full breath, Damian had climbed off the bed. In a blink he was stripped, his erection covered in a condom.

The feel of his hot chest crushing her to the bed sent her reeling with emotion and desire. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him down for a kiss. Their tongues tangled, teeth clashed.

“Fuck, I can’t get close enough.” He poised at her center and drove into her in one quick shove.

Her sensitive tissues pulsated. She was on the verge of coming again. He pinned her to the bed by her hair and thrust into her while commanding her mouth. The flavor of mint and grass filled her head. She angled her hips to receive him deeper.

“Holy…I’m about to blow.”

“Take me with you,” she whispered.

Holding her gaze, he plunged three times, four. When he reached between their bodies and strummed her clit, she hit the stratosphere. Her release was more than physical—it involved her heart and mind until she didn’t know where he ended and she began.

He roared his release, jerking in time to her bucks.

His lips roamed over hers, tender and almost apologetic. She locked her thighs around him, urging him to remain within her. Every nerve in her body sang, and she felt all floaty and warm.

When she came back to herself, he was still inside her, staring into her face with a tenderness that shook her to the core.

Running her hands down his spine, she enjoyed his flesh pebbling at her touch. “I loved listening to your voice while you were reading.” She emphasized “reading”, and he stiffened.

At that moment, the world was in sharp focus. Scattering the Scrabble game. A vision of the X he’d drawn in lipstick on her ass flashed before her mind’s eye.

She sucked in a sharp breath, and he tensed. For a throbbing heartbeat, she didn’t know how to say it. Cupping his face, she searched his gaze, her heart a hammer against her ribs. “Damian, why didn’t you tell me you can’t read?”

A bolt of terror and fury tore through his gut. He rolled off her. Mind fogged with the need to run out, he forced himself to stay in control.

Without looking at her, he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She got off the bed and slipped her arms around him. The feel of her and the comfort she offered nearly spilled the tears that were so close to the surface.

“Baby, I recognize the signs. I’m a teacher. Please talk to me about this.”

He pulled away from her and put three long strides between them. Then he remembered he still wore a condom and went into the bathroom.

She followed him. Half-turning away, he removed the condom and cleaned himself with a few tissues. Naked, she leaned against the counter, meeting his gaze directly, as comfortable discussing hard matters while wearing only her birthday suit as if part of an old married couple.

His heart squeezed.

“Damian…”

He ground his teeth, hating that she’d figured out his secret. Now she knew how dumb he was. “You can go back to your history teacher and have him read your erotic books,” he snapped.

She recoiled at the hard tone of his voice. Remorse flooded him. Clenching his fists, he fought to figure out a way to right this conversation. But it was too late. She knew, and he was as humiliated as he’d been in eighth grade when Mr. Banks called him out of class and confronted him.

That day Damian had dropped out of school.

He tried to get past Ruthie, but she blocked the doorway. “Please let me by.”

“No.” She gripped his biceps, sending streamers of warmth down his arms. Her face was filled with compassion. “Let’s talk about it. Damian, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Goddammit! You don’t know anything about it!”

Something hard moved behind her eyes, and for once he saw the strictness she could harbor with her students. “That’s totally untrue. I deal with kids nine months of the year. I see their struggles and accomplishments. You think you’re the only kid who had trouble reading?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re not,” she said quietly.

Breathing hard, he avoided her gaze. “Please let me get dressed.”

She raked her gaze over him, scorching him. Despite his inner anger, his cock leaped to attention. “Fine, get dressed. But we’re not finished discussing this.”

She sounded as if she’d just sent him to the principal’s office. Biting his tongue, he pulled on his underwear and jeans. Ruthie slipped on a robe and faced him before he’d zipped his fly.

“Sit down with me. Please. I’m sorry I brought up a sensitive topic, but I can’t help the way I’m trained.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You’re right—I can’t read. I dropped out in eighth grade. Are you happy to know you’ve been fucking a dumb cowboy?”

Her jaw dropped, and tears filled her eyes. “It doesn’t feel like fucking…” She pushed her hair off her face, and his heart surged that his words had stung her. When she focused on him, a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. “Damian, you’re far from dumb.”

“I am. I couldn’t learn. That’s all there is to it.”

She drew a deep, unsteady breath. “There are people who can help you. You might have a learning disorder.”

“Don’t. Say. That,” he said through gritted teeth. When she simply stared at him, he tried to get a grip. “People used that word with me, but not until I was in fifth grade or so. By then it was too late. I couldn’t learn.”

“But they did try with you? They gave you support?”

“Sure, they ushered me right out the door when the time came to give up.”

More tears rushed down her face, and he hated that he’d brought her to this. “Look,” he said more gently, “it’s who I am. I’ve accepted it long ago. And no one here knows, so if you wouldn’t enlighten them, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course I wouldn’t tell them! Why would I?”

He bent and swiped his shirt off the floor then shoved his arms into the sleeves. He had to get away from the sadness he saw in Ruthie’s eyes. Had to escape, to clear his head and heart of the emotions cartwheeling through him. “I need to be alone.”

Chapter Eleven

After he left, Ruthie collapsed on the bed and let her tears flow. She cried for the hurt boy inside the man. And she cried because she’d soon be leaving him. Somehow she needed to heal this crack in their relationship.

She got up and splashed cold water on her face. Then she threw her hair into a ponytail and got dressed. She needed to find Damian. Not a minute should be wasted.

The world outside was too bright and happy. Blue sky and flitting birds and galloping horses didn’t match the gloom settled upon her heart. First she went to the barn.

When she peered into the dimness, she spied a couple against the wall. His jeans were around his ankles, and he had the brunette’s calf pinned high on his chest.

“Uhh, sorry.” Ruthie darted out and speed-walked to the next outbuilding. As she neared, some chickens flocked around her, clucking. She opened the door and found only a shed full of tools and no cowboy.

“You lost, pretty lady?” The cowboy she recognized as Ty leaned against the side of the building, grinning at her.

“Not exactly. I’m looking for Damian.”

“Ah.” He searched her face. Could he see she’d been crying? Probably. Her eyes were always red-rimmed for hours after a good cry.

“Do you know where he is?”

“I’m sure I can help you find him. Come on.” He led the way to the grub house next. The space was empty, but several picnic baskets were set on the sideboard, waiting for a cowboy to come pick one up and set off into the fields with his girl.

She sighed and followed Ty back out. They searched another outbuilding, the corral and finally the bunkhouse. When she spotted a horse far off on the horizon, running full-tilt, she knew it was him.

Ty followed where she pointed. He shielded his eyes from the sun. “Yep, I think you’re right. Want me to saddle up and go after him?”

Her shoulders drooped. “No. I’ll just wait for him to come back.”

“Well, can I offer you a picnic while you wait?”

She smiled at his earnest face. His mouth wasn’t bracketed by lines like Damian’s, and she didn’t detect any shadows in his green eyes. The only thing dark about him was an inky tattoo of the ace of spades on his forearm.

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry. I appreciate your offer.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

He tipped his hat to her, which charmed her, but he wasn’t Damian. She couldn’t get that man out of her head—or heart.

When Damian returned to Ruthie, she was curled up like a kitten on the window seat. Tissues littered the floor around her, making his heart pinch.

Quietly he closed the door and crossed the room. As soon as he touched her, she woke, hand fluttering to her chest. Their gazes connected.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I left that way.”

She opened her arms for him, and he crowded onto the ledge with her, taking off his hat and laying his head in her lap. He folded his legs to fit the space.

A tremor ran through her as she stroked his hair. Closing his eyes, he reveled in her touch.

“I’m sorry too,” she said.

He nodded, eyes still shut. When he talked about this, he couldn’t bear to see her pity.

“I knew early in life that reading wasn’t for me. The letters…they just look like a jumble—tumbleweeds blowing down a road. I guess that’s why I followed them.”

She stroked the hair off his forehead, soothing and silent.

“I ran as far as I could away from those words. I got in a lot of trouble. Finally I just gave up and called it stupidity.”

“Not stupidity. Being able to learn a certain way doesn’t define intelligence.”

“But do you know what it is? What causes it?” He looked up at her beautiful face.

She nodded. “I might know if you can explain what you see.”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Hard to explain.”

“You can still learn to read. It’s never too late, Damian.”

“If I had a teacher like you, I might try.”

Tears shone in her eyes again. She cradled his jaw and leaned forward to cover his mouth with hers. The kiss was sweet and filled with something he didn’t expect—hope.

When he stood and lifted her into his arms, she didn’t resist. He carried her into the bedroom and stretched her onto the mattress, his heart fuller than he’d ever known. They stripped each other as if they might break.

He might. She was leaving tomorrow, and he’d never given anyone his trust this way.

“There’s something else you should know about me.”

Her eyes glittered in the waning light. “What’s that?”

He took her hand and placed it over his heart, over his tattoo of a heart cupped in a palm. “These are prison tattoos. I followed that bad path by stealing a car. I did time for it, Ruthie.”

She shook her head. “I don’t give a damn. I know the man you are, and I want you.”

He swallowed the emotion she raised. With his knuckles under her chin, he lifted her face to receive his kisses. She opened to him. The velvety stroke of her tongue ignited him, and he groaned.

With a hand under her back, he tugged her closer. Dark need sidled through his groin, and he thrust his hips against hers. A mew of want left her, which he caught under his mouth.

“Damian, you make me feel so…”

He pulled back to look into her eyes. “So?”

“So much.”

A sound broke from him. He crushed his mouth to hers, drinking, taking every sweet ounce she offered. Her hands on his back made him dream of lazy Sunday mornings spent in bed. God, to wake up to her every day, to feel his pounding heart and know it belonged to a woman who would always care for it.

She broke away, panting. He let her wiggle from beneath him, fearing he’d done something wrong, but she pushed him onto his back and straddled him. Her wet folds against his flesh made him hiss in response.

“I want you so bad,” she moaned.

He prodded her clit with a fingertip, and she closed her eyes. As she rocked against his fingers, he watched her face, etching it into his soul. When she was gone, he’d draw on this moment.

He ran his finger downward and sank it into her tight sheath. She cried out, and he added a second finger. She rocked faster, her mouth an O of bliss.

Grinding his thumb against her nubbin, he memorized her half-closed eyes and her erratic breathing. He pushed his fingers deeper until she gasped. Juices flooded his hand.

“Ffffuck. I need you, baby.”

In the back of his mind, something tugged at him. He didn’t realize what until she drew upward and his fingers slid from her pussy.

Condom.

His mind spun with the need to feel her completely. Since that first time he’d been inside her bareback, he hadn’t gotten it out of his head.

But it can’t happen again. Not until she wears my ring.

The idea should be a shock to his system. Instead it felt like warm water trickling over him, soothing and right. He’d work out the details later. Right now, he was going to show her his true feelings.

He fumbled with a packet and somehow managed to get his erection into the tight rubber.

She came down on top of his cock, impaling herself on him. They sucked in gasps, and Ruthie collapsed atop him. He locked her to his chest, shaking with the need to blow.

He was claiming her with his heart and to hell with the consequences.

They began to move. She rubbed her breasts against his chest. When he closed his fingers over each hard nipple, she pushed back into a sitting position again.

“God, baby. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Her hair trailed over her round breasts, and her nipples peeked through in sharp points. Perspiration gleamed on her cheeks and throat. Her pussy clenched around him with each withdrawal.

Gripping her hips, he slammed deep. She cried out, letting her head fall back. He crunched into a sitting position and opened his mouth over her neck. The taste of her salt and feel of her wrapped around him drove him toward an end so big, his world would fall apart later.

He didn’t care.

He needed her, just like this.

She folded him close, their lips touching, breathing the same air. Heat coiled low in his spine. His balls tightened, ready to blow.

“Damian.”

“Baby?”

He stopped moving.
If you tell me to stop, I’ll die.

Her lips glanced over his cheek to his jaw. “I care about you so much. Too much.”

His chest worked with emotion. When he swallowed, his throat clicked. “Me too.”

His words sent them both thundering to the finish. She slammed down on his cock, taking him to the hilt. Moving wildly, they clutched each other. As soon as she kissed him, he threw it all away.

With a primal yell he tipped over the cliff. Jets of hot come left him as she shuddered. Every pulsation drove him higher. He plunged his tongue between her lips, trying not to accept that this would be the last time he’d ever have her so close.

Damian lay between her legs, cleaning every inch of her pussy with his tongue. His groans of delight vibrated against her folds. She sank her fingers into his thick hair and rode his tongue. White-hot need seared a path through her body.

He traced a path up around her clit, barely skimming it, then back down. With every pass, her body climbed.

Within hours she’d be on her way to the airport and back to her old life. In the past week she’d lived a lifetime. Her mind was thick with memories today but tomorrow her heart would be broken.

When he sucked her clit into his mouth, she arched. His groan vibrated her sensitive pussy. He fanned his fingers over her inner thighs in time to his tongue. The knot in her core stretched tight.

How was it possible for the wanting to go on and on? He dragged his tongue through her folds again, and her eyes rolled back in her head. His grip on her thighs tightened.

“I want to tie you up again, see you in my ropes.”

She gasped, twisting his hair. “Yes.”

He raised his head, eyes gleaming. The sunlight was fading but a golden glow streamed through the windows and fell over Damian, highlighting him like a god. Ruthie couldn’t look away.

He scuffed his rough jaw over her leg, making her belly dip with an indrawn breath. How would she ever have the strength to leave this man tomorrow?

She struggled against despair, trying to stay in the moment.

“Let me get some rope.”

Heart pounding, she nodded. He unfolded himself from the bed and crossed the room to a closet she’d never bothered to look in. When he opened it, she sat up quickly. “Is that what I thought it was?”

A bad-boy grin cut across his handsome face. “Toy closet.” He swung the door wide and switched on a light inside, displaying dildos, whips and countless things she couldn’t name. “See anything you want to try?”

Shivers raced up and down her spine. “Just the…rope.”

He grabbed a long coil, switched off the light and kicked the door shut. With every step toward the bed, his muscles rolled. His broad chest tapered to those abs she hadn’t gotten nearly enough time to lick. Lower, his cock jutted from a trim nest of red hair, the tip purple. And his muscled thighs…

Her pussy squeezed.

Holding the rope just so, he took a frayed end and gently lashed it across her thigh. “This is going to be different from before, doll. But don’t be afraid. If you want out, you say ‘strawberries’, Okay?”

“Yes.” Her voice didn’t sound like her own.

His smile softened. “Good. Now lie right there. Don’t move.”

She looked down her nude body. Her legs were parted, toes pointed in anticipation. After she’d released Damian’s hair, she’d gripped the sheets instead.

He began to uncoil the rope, trapping her in his gaze. His dark expression might frighten someone else, but she trusted him completely. He’d given her nothing but pleasure in the week she’d spent with him.

When he wrapped his fingers around her wrist, need speared her. A low moan left her.

“God, you’re incredible. You get into that headspace at a single touch. Fuck, if only I could keep you.”

Her gaze flew to his, her heart in her throat. He didn’t appear to know what he’d just said and began to wrap the rope around and around her wrist. It wasn’t too tight but she couldn’t move it once he tied it to the headboard. Then he stretched the rope behind her shoulders and around her body, just above her breasts. The second loop went below her breasts.

He gave the same treatment to her other wrist, talking in a low drawl that might make her come if she listened to it long enough. “Words defy me, but I can read you like a book, doll. I know your body language, and you’re aching for me, aren’t you?”

She didn’t need to nod. Her body gave her away by arching for his touch.

As he looped and knotted the rope around her middle and down each leg, she drifted. Safe and warm, infused with more pleasure than her former lovers had given her with intercourse.

Damian stood back to study his handiwork. Ruthie came to herself enough to admire the cage-like binding of her legs from thighs to ankles. Intricate knots created patterns over each knee, and her ankles were bound to the footboard.

A bird of panic took flight in her chest. She was bound, unable to move hands or feet.

“Oh hey. Baby, look at me.” Damian cupped her face and the sight of his calm gray eyes instantly soothed her. He leaned over her, his breath washing over her skin. “You’re safe with me. I’ve got you.”

“Damian…”

“Let me love you tonight, Ruthie. The way a man should really love a woman.”

A tear escaped the corner of her eye, and he caught it under his lips. He kissed down her cheek to her mouth. When he captured her lips, she tasted her own salty tear.

The next minutes—hours, maybe days—were a blur of sensation. He licked, lapped, laved and bit her nipples until they felt swollen. Then he spent a long time worshipping her ribs and belly. He drew a big X with his tongue.

“My signature,” he said, but she already knew that.

She quaked for more.

“Mine.”

He moved down her, controlling her body in brand new ways. She stared at his messy hair, dampened with perspiration.

“I wish I could touch you.”