Devil's Kiss (7 page)

A dog barks in the distance and my eyes fly open. I can’t do this. I
promised
myself I wouldn’t do this. I take a step back and bring my hands down to his chest, pushing him away.

“This is a bad idea,” I say hoarsely.

“Do you want me or not?” he asks, out of breath, his dark eyes flashing.

“That’s not the point,” I snap. “You and me...it wouldn’t work. I don’t want to be the girl you ask to leave in the morning. I mean, you can’t ask me to leave—we already live together. And not to mention my brother...I’m sorry. But you know I’m right.”

I grab my keys out of the door before I can second-guess myself and rush off to the bathroom. I take a deep breath as I tear off all my clothes. I need a cold shower.

I sit on the couch finishing up my dinner. I’ve successfully avoided West for the last week or so, but I have tonight off from work. I’m doing well at the Black Rock¸ opening and closing by myself. I’ve also discovered that Franchise doesn’t have much of an inventory system, so I’ve been going in early to try to organize everything for him.

But right now, it just feels good to relax in my sweatpants. I’ve got a glass of red wine, a big plate of spaghetti, and an old episode of
Sex and the City
on the tube. I pull the chenille throw over my legs a little more and take a bite of spaghetti.

Just when I’m wondering when Stick and West will be back from “church,” which is what they call the meetings at their clubhouse, I hear their bikes coming down the road. I force myself to not shake my hair down from the messy bun I’ve got on top of my head—I don’t want or need to look good for West.

The bikes go silent and the front door opens. Stick walks in, moving quickly. I put my plate down on the coffee table, sensing that something’s wrong.

“What? What’s going on?” I ask, standing up. West just glances at Stick, waiting for him to speak.

Stick hurries down the hallway to his bedroom. I follow him as he talks. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go away for a little while,” he says. “Club business.”

“Club business? What does that mean?” I ask.

He pulls a duffle out of his closet and starts throwing clothes into it. “I can’t give you specifics,” he says, “There’s just this other club, the Devils, that’s acting up, and we have to take care of it.”

“Well, why do
you
have to go?” I ask, unease clenching my stomach.

“Because I’m part of the club,” he says firmly, “Because we all have to do our part, Olive.”

“Is it dangerous?” I ask quietly. He finally stops moving and looks at me.

“I’ll be careful,” he promises.

“So it
is
dangerous?”

Stick sighs. “Just check in on Stacy, will you? She gets worried when I’m out of town.” He zips up his bag and slings it over his shoulder as he heads back down the hallway. I hustle to keep up with him.

“Yeah, of course,” I mutter.

“And West is staying here, so you’ll be safe,” he adds.

“So
I’ll
be safe? You’re the one who’s got a handgun tucked into the back of his jeans. Don’t think I didn’t notice that!” I protest. Stick turns to face me, one hand on the doorway. West leans on the back of the couch, watching us.

“Olive, I have to go,” Stick says, “They’re waiting for me back at the clubhouse. We have to move quick. We can talk about it when I get back,” he says, opening the door.

“And when will that be?” I ask, fear causing my throat to close up.

“I don’t know, maybe a couple weeks,” he says. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” And with that, he shuts the door. I hear his bike start up and drive away, then I turn slowly to face West. I’m just able to keep my eyes from overflowing with tears.

West walks around to the other side of the couch and then nods to the seat next to him. I eye him warily, and he moves one seat farther away. I smile weakly and walk over to join him, sinking down onto the old sofa.

“He really will be OK,” West says softly.

“You were always the one who protected him,” I reply.

“If you haven’t noticed, your brother’s gotten a little bigger and stronger since we were kids,” West says. “It’s nice, the way you two care about each other.”

“I guess,” I reply grumpily.

West just shrugs with a smile, then turns to eye the TV. He watches it for a moment, then turns to face me again.

“You’re being such a Samantha right now,” he says.

It’s absolutely the last thing I expected to hear come out of his mouth. I throw my head back and lose myself in laughter.

“West, what?!” I exclaim, “I mean, that’s not even accurate! How the hell am I being a Samantha?”

“I don’t know,” he grins sheepishly. “It’s just something I hear women say to each other in bars a lot.” I throw a pillow at his head and he catches it easily. “So this spaghetti you’re eating...Is there any more of it?” he asks, eyebrows raised hopefully.

“Yes, you vulture,” I say, “There’s plenty on the stove.”

We sit next to each other, finishing our dinners. West lets me keep watching the
Sex and the City
marathon, I think because he knows I’m worried about Stick. But he does keep interjecting his own thoughts on all the women’s behavior, which is equal parts interesting and annoying. In a good way. I can tell he’s trying to keep my mood light. Eventually the channel switches over to infomercials, and I stand up and stretch.

“Well, I’m off to bed,” I announce, picking up my plate and glass.

“You gonna be OK?” West asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I reply, “Stick’s a big boy, right?”

I head into the kitchen and run my plate under the faucet before putting it into the dishwasher. I think I can see West watching me out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t want to look. I head into my bedroom and shut the door, pulling on my oversized cotton t-shirt that I like to wear to bed. I slide in between my worn cotton sheets, their familiar touch soothing my anxiety about my brother, though West helped a lot, too.

He was really great company tonight. And he hasn’t brought a girl home since Jenna. And he looks so good in that black tank he’s wearing tonight. His tan shoulder muscles pop out the sides. God, what cologne does that man wear? I can’t find any in the bathroom. Is it possible for a man to smell that good naturally? I just want...I want...

My hand makes its way down south. I close my eyes as I begin to touch myself, picturing my arms wrapped around West’s body, imagining what’s hiding underneath those clothes, feeling him tearing into me. I’m so close. A moan escapes my lips. I can even smell his scent, as though he’s here in the room with me.

“Oh, West...” I murmur.

“You should try the real thing,” I hear from the doorway.

My eyes fly open in horror and I see West standing in the doorway, his lips parted as he stares at me lustily. At least the sheets are covering me. I open my mouth to yell, to tell him to get out, but he stops me.

“Don’t,” he says quietly. “We both know this is going to happen. And it’s pretty clear you want it, too.”

A shiver runs through me, and I stare at him. He’s right. No use denying I want him after what he just saw. And heard. I sink back into my pillow, my eyes wide as he makes his way to the center of the room.

Slowly, purposefully, he pulls his black tank off over his head. I study his body, fascinated, finally seeing him after all these years. His chest is wide, and dark hair runs across it, continuing in a light trail between his abs, disappearing beneath his belt, which he is just now unbuckling. He stands back up in just his boxers, then makes eye contact with me, a little smile playing across his lips. He tucks his fingers into the band of his underwear, pulling them down.

As he stands and kicks them to the side, I get a full view of what I’m in for. He’s staggeringly huge, and already hard as a rock. Holy shit, this is really happening. I inch over to the center of my bed, my breathing already ramping up. He walks slowly toward me, and I feel lightheaded at the sight of his naked body, intimidated by his size. I’ve never been with anyone half this big.

He takes the corner of the sheets in his hand and pulls them down, uncovering me. I feel completely vulnerable, in this boxy t-shirt and my childhood bed. I hold my breath as he slides in beside me, grabbing my hips and pulling me toward him. He leans onto one elbow, then eases his way on top of me, one arm on either side of my body. He sinks down onto my chest, and I gasp at the contact. The only thing between our skin is my thin cotton shirt.

Lowering his mouth to mine, he delicately brushes his lips against mine. I tilt my head up, wanting more, but he pulls back, teasing me. He looks at me with a satisfied smile on his face, then leans in and really kisses me. My mouth opens eagerly to accept his probing tongue, and my hips rise to meet his.

I groan as I feel his hard cock pressing against my crotch. A flutter rises in my stomach as I worry about how he’s going to fit. His fingers trace up my thigh, pulling my shirt with it. I start shaking with nerves and desire as my shirt bunches around my waist. I feel his hand continue up under it, slowly sliding over my right breast. He moves to my ear, nipping and sucking my earlobe as his fingers pinch my nipple. It hardens under his touch and I gasp, arching my back. I wrap my legs around his ass and pull his hips against me, feeling his cock press against my wet slit.

I pull my shirt up over my head and toss it to the floor. West kisses my neck, moving down between my breasts, trailing kisses along my skin. He takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, tracing circles with his tongue. My legs fall wide open as I lose myself in pleasure.

He moves down my stomach now, licks the soft dip beside my hipbone. I feel his warm breath on my sex until suddenly his tongue is on me, flicking against my aching clit. I cry out, my hips bucking. He pins me to the bed. I grasp the sheets in my hands as he works my clit with his skilled tongue. Two thick fingers slowly push inside me. He circles them, pressing against my g-spot as his tongue teases my clit. I cry out, waves of pleasure overwhelming me. I’m so close...

Suddenly, he stops, his fingers pulling out of me. My eyes flutter open as he presses his mouth down onto mine again. I taste myself on his lips.

“Tell me you want me,” he growls, kissing my neck.

“I want you,” I whisper.

“Beg,” he demands.

“Please, West.
Please
. I want you so bad,” I comply. “But I just...You’re so...” I glance down meaningfully at his huge member. A smirk appears on his lips.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, “We’ll start out slow. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

He leans off the bed and reaches into the pocket of his jeans. When he sits back up, there’s a condom in his teeth. He rips it open, and I swallow hard as I watch him slide the latex along his length. He locks eyes with me as I watch him, and reaches down to my clit, circling it gently.

“You’re so fucking wet...” he murmurs.

I gasp as the very tip of his cock parts my silky flesh. He kisses me gently, his tongue delicately pressing against mine. He presses in farther, still kissing me until he’s all the way inside. He circles his hips slowly, his head dipping to the pillow next to mine.

“Fuck, you’re tight...” he whispers. His words send a thrill to running through me. He thrusts deeper into me, his jaw working as he tries to restrain himself. But I don’t want to go slow anymore.

I throw my weight forward, flipping on top of him in one smooth movement. I straddle him, my knees on either side of his hips. His eyes are wide in shock. I slide down onto him, taking him as deep as I can. He groans in pleasure and I fling my hair back, proud of the way I can elicit a response from him. His fingers find my clit again, and I buck my hips into him, unable to hold back.

With a low growl that vibrates through me, West comes inside me. I let myself explode against him, crying out with abandon. I collapse against him, exhausted. I just barely have the energy to move my hair out of my face as I rest my head on his firm chest. We lie there for a while, breathing together, until I feel like I’ve come back down to earth. My legs feel like jelly as I curl up beside him. My eyes are half-closed as I watch him toss the condom into the trash.

“Come here,” he whispers, and I feel his arm snaking around me. He pulls me to him and I lay my head on his shoulder. “You okay? I mean, with my size—.”

“I think so,” I murmur.

“You’ll get used to it,” he reassures me.

“I think once was enough. Thanks anyway,” I sigh, turning away.

There’s silence for a few moments, and I can feel him staring at my back. I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“You were kidding...” he accuses me. I start giggling. “Oh, that’s so funny! You know what else is funny?” His hands reach around my waist and pull me toward him. He starts tickling me all over.

“No! No, you jerk!” I cry, tears streaming down my face from laughing too hard. “Stop it!”