Chance of a Lifetime (8 page)

“Wider.”

Response trickled from her. When his eyes fired at the sight, she spread herself wider, offered him everything. Being taken over like this, she didn’t have to think of anything else. Only what he wanted, while it set her body on fire.

He squatted, showed her the baton. “You want me to fuck you with this?”

“Yes.” She managed it in a whisper.

“Why?”

“Because… Next time you use it, I want you to remember it…in my pussy.”

“Honey, remembering any of this is not going to be a problem. I may just keep that bear for myself. Make you come by rubbing it on your cunt and then keep it near my pillow ever after so I can smell the lingering odor of your pussy on it.”

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When she moaned in response, it made his need to take her beyond arousal and straight into mindless insanity even more fierce. Watching every flicker of expression—

the parted lips, the desperate eyes, the arch of her throat—already had him there miles ahead of her. Jake slowly lowered the baton, making sure her eyes latched onto it so she’d see it go into her. He spread her slick lips wide with his thumb and forefinger, his thumb pushing up on her clit as he began to insert the baton. She quivered, her nostrils flaring.

“Breathe deep, baby. I’m putting it in deep. Once I’ve got it seated, you’re going to hold onto it with your muscles. I want you to milk it so hard I’ll see it twitch when I let it go.”

She rocked against him, pulling it in, her head starting to thrash back and forth.

“You keep those hands over your head.”

Her hands locked together as if they were around a bedrail, the white flowers tickling the curves of her arms, her pale skin gleaming like pearl.

“Jake…please… Oh God…”

He took it in about eight inches and stopped, letting the weight of it rest on his knee, holding it steady in her as he reached for the other thing.

In the semi-darkness, it looked like a thin black stick with a metal edge that flashed in the moonlight. When he laid the end against the side of her nipple, her eyes opened at the new touch. The moment she did, he tapped the control on it.

The hot stick was set on the lowest setting, a shock capable of a mild current of power but packing a lot of stimulation, if her reaction was any gauge.

She jumped. At the same time the T-baton began to twitch rhythmically, her hips moving in the act of fucking.

“You like that, baby?”

“Oh…God.”

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He kept it up, erratic charges so she couldn’t predict it as he held the T-baton, withdrew it almost all the way and then pushed it back in until she was crying out each time. Still he wouldn’t let her come, fascinated with the way her nipples were so hard, erect and large, her pussy so soaked the wood was glistening, the moisture trickling down to his hand and pooling in the crevice between thumb and forefinger.

“Please, please, let me come. Let me come. Oh…”

As he let the hot stick drift down her belly, her eyes were on it again, as they had followed the baton. Showing that she knew where he was headed, what he was going to do, and she wanted it. God, he wanted to fuck her. Her lips parted, breath shallow and fast, and he watched her face, her absorption as he rested the tip on her clit. Gave her a zing.

She bucked up, the baton moving furiously. He hit her with a slightly higher voltage as the first scream broke from her lips, twice more as she kept screaming, milking the baton, her body arched back like the crescent moon above them, her fingers digging into each other, her wrists held by his cuffs. Her ass slapped hard on the ground in a staccato rhythm that became even more erratic as she thrashed.

“Oh…it’s too much… Please…stop…”

“You’re not stopping until I say stop, baby. Keep going.” His voice was harsh as he watched, too choked up for more words as that simple sentence sent her over another peak, her voice getting hoarse as she cried out her desire, long, drawn out notes of pleading. He was immobilized, watching her come all over his baton, her cunt spasming on it, her nipples as erect as his cock.

He stopped the shock, dropped the device to the side and now rocked the baton, keeping her going until he could tell he’d exhausted her. When he eased it out slowly, he was enthralled by the way she shuddered and whimpered with the resulting aftershocks. Laying it to the side, he stood on his knees, straightening to strip off the shirt.

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“No.” She reared up before he could do it and curled her hands in the fabric. She managed to catch her nails in an apparent weak point, or maybe her adrenaline was making her that strong, because she ripped the fabric away from the collar seam. When she leaned against him, panting, he curled his fingers over hers and helped her finish it, tearing the shirt open to just below his rib cage. He dropped his head on his shoulders as she passed her thumbs over his nipples, threaded her fingers into his chest hair and tugged savagely.

He shoved his jeans down his hips and tossed the shirt away before he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her hands between them and took her to her back, sliding into her as one continuous motion. She was just going to have to wait on having him completely naked because he was going to die if he wasn’t inside of her now.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, her heels drumming his ass as he pounded into her, her wet channel gripping him again with sure muscles. He felt like he’d been away from that welcoming, heated home for far too long, though it had been less than thirty minutes. Rimming her with his still wet fingers, he found her anus and slid into her there, making those blue eyes widen further. Her mouth formed an “oh” of startled reaction. Then she went wild. She bucked against him, making him feel the clutch of her ass muscles, the ripple of her pussy that sent him right over the edge.

He cried out his pleasure to the night the way she’d screamed hers, two wild, primal animals under the watching face of the moon.

Nature would forever be a mystery to man, binding together elements in complex and beautiful ways. But as he felt her go over again, Jake thought a man could share that power, at least in this one perfect way.

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Chapter Six

When he opened his eyes, he was lying on her and her fingers were making circles on his chest where her hands were pinned. She was still quivering, her buttocks clinging tightly to his fingers, her cunt gripping his cock. The moonlight created slivers of silver in her hair and cast shadows that etched out the line of her cheek, the upper slope of her breast, the cleft in between.

“You’re going to have to let me go, baby,” he whispered, soft and tender, sliding from her ass. She held on reluctantly, making it torture. “You stay right there. There’s something I need to do.”

When she looked up at him as he stood, he remembered. Toeing off his shoes, he stripped the jeans and underwear, the socks, and just stood there a moment. Not because he was vain, but because he couldn’t move with her gaze traveling over him as if she was memorizing every inch of him in the moonlight.

It made him want to fall to his knees and worship her. But because this was her sexual fantasy, he gave her a slow, thorough perusal instead. It wasn’t a hardship, with her body naked and still quivering from her climax. He squatted again and laid his hand high on the inside of her thigh, applied pressure, making her widen their spread.

When she resisted somewhat, that shyness coming to the forefront again, he laid his other hand on the opposite one, opening her further to him.

“Let me see your pretty cunt,” he murmured in a husky tone, liking the way her cheeks got stained with color. “You’ve never had a man talk that way to you, have you?”

She shook her head.

“But you like it.”

A quick nod and that charming sweep of her lashes.

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“You took all of me in well enough.”

Stacie couldn’t stop looking at him. Tanned, with a few pale places. Her cop didn’t go to tanning beds and apparently had a certain amount of personal modesty. He was as perfect as any man she could imagine. A fine pelt of pubic hair. His cock lay against the soft nest of it, the curve of his heavy testicles just below. He was lots of lean thigh and arm muscles, with a well-cut stomach. Broad chest and flat pecs with a light thatch of hair that narrowed to his groin. It wasn’t that she hadn’t covered the territory before.

It was just each time she detailed it she got the same sweet rush through her vitals.

Perhaps it was good they wouldn’t be together after tonight. The constant need for him might kill her.

As if he wasn’t providing her enough sensual eye candy, he gave her a full sugar rush by ordering her to stay on the blanket and turning to walk into the corn. His ass was likewise firm and tasty-looking, his back wide. Some old scars and new scrapes, the latter probably from tonight’s ballgame. A man’s man, not afraid to play as hard as he worked. She was sure of it.

A moment later he was back. He wasn’t self-conscious with her, so she could enjoy the way his cock moved as he moved his body. Forever after she’d know what he looked like naked when he walked, even when he was wearing his work clothes. His gun…

A smile crossed her lips as he knelt by her. She noticed he had a couple packs of crackers and two sodas.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if you had a gun belt. You know, the kind that goes around your hips?”

He picked up on the gleam in her eyes immediately. “Oh no you don’t. You bad girl.” He tore open a pack of crackers, popped one in her mouth before she could get the suggestion out. “That’s where I draw the line. There are just too many cheesy one-liners.”

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“Like don’t make me draw my weapon—”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he reproved, but he grinned when she tried to bring her hands to her mouth to cover her laugh. Unsuccessfully, because she baptized him with a small spray of crumbs. “Imp. You were looking a bit pale. If we have until dawn, you’re going to need some calories. I had these and a cooler in the backseat of the car.”

“You have some. You’ll need it too.” Stacie kept the tone light, even as something caught in her throat. He was feeding her, not allowing her to do it for herself, and it made butterflies in her stomach. The way he took the soda to her lips before taking a drink himself, his eyes on her again as he made her take another cracker from his fingers. The way he watched her lips, his gaze flickering with sparks of fire, telling her he was turned on by it as much as she was.

She’d never shown this side of herself before to any man, perhaps because she’d never known it was there. It was like Jake had had a secret key that unlocked this desire. She’d wanted a man to take her mind away from the reality of her life for just a little bit. Since John couldn’t ever give her even a minute of that, perhaps she’d forgotten that there were men who were capable of it. But Jake… He’d sent her spiraling into a whole new plane of perception. Whether it was reaction to the excessive amount of control and discipline she had to have in her own life, or if it was something else, she didn’t know. There’d be years to analyze it later. Right now, she just wanted to be experiencing this, taking sustenance from his hand, watching his gray eyes darken and his cock rising again from the stimulation of controlling her completely. Of her willing submission to him.

* * * * *

It was an effort to keep his hands off her, but Jake knew he might only have one night with her. Ironically, that meant he shouldn’t rush it. He needed to give her body some time to recuperate, and it probably wouldn’t hurt him to give his dick a few minutes to reset launch mode.

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“So tell me how you ended up taking care of your dad. Don’t you have any other family to help you?”

As he took a couple crackers for himself, Jake noticed what she gave him was cautious, reluctant. Maybe because she didn’t want to ruin it. Maybe because she had a Southern woman’s tendency to believe that nothing asked of her was too much and she shouldn’t complain.

Or maybe she was laconic because she didn’t trust him enough to reveal details of her life to him. Why that should bother him, he didn’t know. Realistically, they’d just met. But accepting reality didn’t seem to have a place here. Not tonight.

She did trust him in ways women who’d known him longer had never done. But maybe that was because she was at the end of her rope, desperately hoping for one night where someone would take care of her. With no hope for anything more than that one night, the limited time span made it easier to trust him that way. His siren had learned to have low expectations. He saw that in far too many women. While he knew he was feeling way too proprietary for his own good, he particularly didn’t like seeing that quality in her.

Patiently, he prodded her for more about her parents. From working over sources and suspects, he knew how to persuade. When to push and how to listen for what wasn’t being said as much as what was. Reading between the lines, he quickly determined her brothers needed to be pistol-whipped. He had a Glock and a Sig that would fit the bill nicely.

Reaching out, he traced the lingering bruise on her collar bone. “He had a good hold. How’d you break it?”

“We hit the umbrella stand when we rolled off the china cabinet. I was able to grab one and get it between us. Twisted it and broke his grip. Fortunately, when I did that, he regained some sense of his surroundings. I told him he fell, just knocked me down with him.” At his disapproving look, Stacie shook her head. “I wasn’t going to tell him 61

Joey W. Hill

he tried to hurt me. It would kill him. This isn’t a kind disease, and home care with me…it’s our only option.”

It wasn’t a kind disease to anyone, he thought, his brow creasing at her hesitation.

Dementia robbed a family of their loved one, often years before the person died. He thought about it, if it was his daughter trying to take care of him. If he found out she’d lied to him so he didn’t know he’d abused her, tried to kill her. He was pretty sure he’d decide to self-administer a bullet then and there.