Hard (9 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“You gave Treble your number?” Bridget asked as soon as they settled into her SUV.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god, he is to die for. I hope you’re going to sleep with him.” Lindy started the Escape as she tried to ignore the burning of her face, refusing to say anything. Bridget giggled at her sister’s embarrassment. “Oh, come on! I mean look at him! I should have been so lucky to have someone like him pop
my
cherry.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see,” Lindy said, desperately wanting this conversation to end, but she knew Bridget, and the more she denied it, the more Bridget would mine for details.

“Okay, but if you do fuck him, I want all the juicy details.”

“Don’t you get enough sex as it is? You and Terry are fucking, right? What, is he not a good lover? I thought doctors were supposed to be great lovers because they knew all the places to touch, or something.”

Bridget snorted. “There’s more to sex than just knowing where to touch, Lindy. One day you will discover that. And yes, Terry is a good lover. I just miss…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh hell no! You started this conversation.”

Bridget looked out her side window a moment. “Terry is a great guy, and he will make a great husband, but he’s so…mellow I guess is a good way to put it. There is no fire in him. We never fight because he is so easy going; he doesn’t care what we do.”

Lindy couldn’t believe that Bridget was complaining about her future husband being a nice guy. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No…but just once I wish he would come over to my place, throw me on the bed, and fuck the shit out of me. I sometimes miss the fire, you know? He’s a great lover, very gentle and considerate, but sometimes I just want to
fuck.”

Lindy thought a moment. “Well, have you told him?”

“Tell him what, Lindy? That I want him to treat me like a whore once in a while? You know him. How do you think he would react to that?”

“He might surprise you. Maybe he would like to throw you on the bed and fuck the shit out of you, but he’s afraid he will upset you.”

“And that’s the problem! Look, I appreciate the fact that he’s kind and considerate, I really do. But not in the bedroom! There I want him to take charge.”

“So tell him!”

“I have! Or I’ve tried. But it just doesn’t seem to be him.”

Lindy considered a moment. “If this is such a problem, why are you marrying him?”

“Because I know I should. He’s a great catch, Mom and Dad adore him, and I really do enjoy his company. This shouldn’t be an issue, and I keep thinking that he will change, or I will.”

“Is that what has you down?”

“Yeah, I guess. Sometimes I’m afraid I’m making a mistake, but other times I feel like I’m being selfish and making a big deal out of nothing. There is more to marriage than sex.” Bridget sighed and then smiled at Lindy. “It’s nothing. It’s probably just pre-wedding jitters, that’s all.”

“I hope so, because if you’re not sure, you need to call it off. You know that!”

“No, it’s too late for that. I sometimes wish I could be more like you.”

“How’s that?”

“Logical. Organized. You’re always so together. I envy that.” Bridget paused and then grinned. “Besides, if I were still a virgin, I wouldn’t know what I was missing.” Lindy felt her face heating up again but said nothing. “Wait, are you still a virgin?” Bridget asked after a moment. Again Lindy refused to say anything, but her blush gave her away. “Holy shit! When Lindy? Why didn’t you tell me? How was it, and with who? Anyone I know?”

Lindy wheeled her car into the parking lot of her apartment, thankful she was almost home. “Not too long ago. And no, I don’t think you know him.”

“Linda Willis, you are not getting out of this car until you give me all the details. Now spill it!”

Lindy pulled to a stop in her visitor spot, but left the car running so the air conditioner could keep the car cool. “Last night. After I left the party.”

“Who with? Wait! No! J. J. Treble? Are you shitting me?”

Lindy wanted to crawl under a rock, but she held her head high, not letting her sister get the best of her. She and Bridget had shared many secrets over other years and she knew she could trust her with this one, but she was still embarrassed talking about her sex life with her. “Yeah. You know him?”

Bridget paused, as if thinking. “Only from the party. Is that where you went? How was it?” she asked with a sly grin.

Lindy tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t. “It was pretty fucking awesome,” she finally giggled.

Bridget leaned over and hugged her sister. “It only gets better from here,” she whispered before letting her go. “Did it hurt much? Are you okay? How do you feel?”

“No so much. It hurt a little at first, but he was very gentle with me. I think it helped that I was a pretty tipsy. And I feel okay. I was afraid I would regret it, but I don’t. So yeah, feeling pretty good about myself,” Lindy said with a smile.

“Good for you! You have nothing to be ashamed of. So you got laid and drunk in the same night? A twofer for you! Tell me, what’s he look like under that leather. How’s he packing?”

“Spectacular,” Lindy gushed, warming to the subject. “He’s hard as a rock with no fat on him anywhere. The first time, last night, he—”

“Wait! The first time? How many times did you two do it?”

“Just twice. Once last night and once again this morning. Why?”

“I’m impressed. I was too sore to do it more than once my first time. Did you bleed?”

“No, thank god. He took his time and had me well lubricated. He spent a long time…kissing…me down there.”

“Did you orgasm?” Bridget asked, her eyes bright as she hung on every word.

“Yes. Once last night, twice this morning.”

“And…?”

Lindy couldn’t help but smile. “I thought I was going to pass out. I had, uh, pleased myself before, but those orgasms where nothing like the one last night and my first one this morning.”

Bridget smiled. “Sounds like you enjoyed it. I’m glad for you, I really am. Are you going to see him again?”

Lindy couldn’t help but smile. “I think so.”

“Ho…ly…shit,” Bridget drawled out. “My little sister has done gone and got herself a biker boyfriend. Mom and Dad are going to shit when they find out.”

“You can’t tell them!”

“I won’t, but how long do you think you can hide it?” Bridget smiled, but there was a bit of sadness in it. “Enjoy it while you can. You deserve to have your toes curled.” She paused then put her hand on Lindy’s. “I’m a little jealous of you right now.”

“What? Why?”

“Because everything is going to be so new and exciting for you. You remember how I said I missed the fire? I have a feeling you are about to find out what I mean. It sounds like Treble is a good guy, despite the bad boy image, and it sounds like he knows how to please a woman. For as long as it lasts, I want you to enjoy it. Now is the time to enjoy life before you are weighed down with obligations.”

Bridget reached over and pulled Lindy into another hug, holding her tight, and Lindy wasn’t sure if Bridget was trying to reassure her, or if she was drawing strength from her, or, perhaps, both. When they parted, Lindy could see tears in her sister’s eyes.

Bridget laughed then wiped at her eyes. “If you need any advice, you know where to come, right?”

Lindy felt a bit out of sorts by Bridget’s reaction. “Yeah. Bridget Wills, the Willis family sex-pert.”

“And don’t you forget it! Now get out. I have to go home and put some ice on this tattoo. But if you go out with Treble J again, I want hear all about it. Promise?”

Lindy smiled. It was a unique position having Bridget wanting details of her love life, and she found she liked it. “I promise.”

***

Lindy was in the small kitchen of her apartment, preparing her dinner of fresh greens with Quinoa and chicken, when her phone rang. She quickly wiped her hands and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” she asked tentatively, not recognizing the number.

“Lindy, J. J. Treble. Have you eaten?”

“No, not yet. Why?”

“Because I’m going to take you to dinner. I know a place.”

“I thought you were going to call me tomorrow.”

“I changed my mind. I decided I would rather see you tonight.”

“Well, uh, I…” she began, unsure of what to do.

“It’s just dinner.”

“Okay. But, well, why don’t you come over here. I can prepare you dinner. It’s almost ready.”

“Nope. Like I said, I know a place and I think you will like it. I’ll be there in a half-hour. Dress comfortably and be ready to ride.”

“Treb—” she began but he was gone. She looked at her almost finished dinner then smiled as she began to package her meal for the refrigerator. As she worked, she giggled when she realized that Treble didn’t know where she lived and wondered how long it would be before he called and asked for her address.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Bridget sat curled on her couch, playing a mindless game of
Leo’s Fortune
on her phone. She was exhausted, wrung out from her late night then early morning, but most especially by the emotional hand wringing she had been doing ever since she visited Stiles to have her butterfly finished.

Lindy made it all seem so simple.
If you’re not sure, you need to call it off,
Lindy’s voice sounded in her head again. She knew Lindy was right, but events had taken on a life of their own. If only Stiles would ask her to stay so she could be sure.

Her phone rang in her hand, making her jump, Stiles number on the display. It was nearly eleven, almost an hour after he closed. She hesitated, then swiped the display to accept the call.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Can we talk?” Stiles asked, his voice cool.

“Yes.”

“In person.”

Bridget sagged into the couch. “You can’t tell me over the phone?”

“No. You need to hear this in person.”

She gritted her teeth to hold her tears at bay. “Should I come there?”

“It’s up to you.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

“Come in the back.”

She hung up her phone and then blubbered once, knowing instinctively what this conversation was going to be about.  She took a deep breath and choked off her tears. It looked like Stiles was going to make her decision for her.

***

Bridget sat in her Escape at the back of SkinMusic. Until today, she had never driven her car to her clandestine meetings with Stiles, always taking a cab so her car remained at home, and today she had been here twice. She sat, the vehicle switched off and silent, realizing she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything anymore.

Terry had called her as she drove to tell her how much he missed her and how he was looking forward to being home so he could hold her again. She had barely managed to hold her tears as they spoke, trying to sound excited to speak with him, but the entire time all she could think about was how heavy her heart was. Through her selfishness she had destroyed two lives, and repeatedly lied to a good and honorable man.

Summoning her courage she opened the door and stepped out into the damp night air, shutting the car door softly behind her. Normally she was buzzing with excitement as she walked to Stiles door, but tonight there was nothing but dread.
How could I have done this?
she asked herself for at least the hundredth time.

She rapped softly on the door, promising herself that no matter what happened she wouldn’t beg or cry. This was her fault and she would take the responsibility for it like an adult and not like the spoiled little rich girl she felt like.

Stiles opened the door, his normal smile missing. “Come in,” he said, stepping back and opening the door wider. She stepped into his kitchen and he shut the door. “Can I get you something?”

“No. Let’s just get this over with.”

Stiles lived in the back of SkinMusic in what remained of the converted house. The parlor and waiting area occupied what was the living room and small dining room at the front of house, and he lived in the kitchen and three bedrooms at the back. He shared his bathroom with the public, but had converted two of the bedrooms into a den and a small dining room.

He led her into the den and they sat down. Normally, if they didn’t go straight to bed, they snuggled on the couch, but this time he steered her to the only chair while he sat down on the couch corner closest to her. He clasped his hands and looked at the floor for a moment before meeting her eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said and Bridget began to breathe harder as she fought against her tears. “Have you spoken to Terry?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, on the way over here.”

That surprised him. He had expected her to dither and stall for as long as possible. “Did you ask him if he was agreeable to an open marriage?”

“No,” she whispered. “There didn’t seem to be much point.”

He nodded, not surprised after all. “I see.” He wanted to tell her how much he cared for her, but he couldn’t. It simply hurt too much. “Since you can’t make a decision, I’m making it for us.”

She nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” he said softly.

“It’s over for us, then?”

“Yes.”

She nodded, looking down. “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?”

“No. But if this had continued, you would have. You realize that, don’t you?”

She nodded. He was right, and she knew it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. She looked up and met his eyes. “Will you take me to bed one more—”

“Goddamnit, Bridget!”

“Please, Stiles! I want to feel your touch one more time before I go. You’re right! I know you are. I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I did, and…and…and it has to end. I know it! But please, one last time, please take me to bed and make love to me.”

He stared at her. She looked devastated, her eyes pleading with him. This was just like when she told him she had accepted Terry’s proposal. He had tried to end it then, but had weakened and their affair had continued. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that this time. But to feel her touch one last time…

“We shouldn’t.”

“I know. But want to feel your arms around me one last time.” She watched his emotions war within him. Breaking up a long-term relationship is always hard, even if you don’t love the other person, and he radiated sadness. Despite the leathers, tattoos and motorcycle, Stiles was a good man, a kind and thoughtful man, a man with a sense of justice, and he was showing it now. She was weak and unable to do what had to be done, to make the hard choice, so he had done it for her. Someday a woman was going capture his heart, and if she were smart, she would realize how lucky she was to have him.

He rose from the corner of the couch and stood before her, looking down at her a moment before extending his hand. She took it and he pulled her slowly to her feet. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and hold him tight, but she waited, unsure if he was going to pull her to him or throw her out. With a small smile, he pulled her in, holding her as he breathed deep. She closed her eyes as her arms went around him, laying her head on his shoulder as she drew comfort and strength from him. If only Terry made her feel like this, if only Stiles loved her.

She raised her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. She offered her lips and he took them gently, perhaps the most loving kiss he had ever given her. “Take me to bed?”

He kissed her again, softly, his heart rending from the knowledge that this was the last time he would be able to touch her. She was everything he wanted: smart, beautiful and adventuresome, but she also belonged to another. He hadn’t intended to fall in love with her, but he had. What had started out as nothing more than weekend romp had grown into something more. He hated himself for his weakness, but if he was going to lose her forever, he
wanted
to touch her one last time.

He took a slow step back, giving her hand a gentle tug, then turned. She knew the way to his bedroom and as he entered his small room he felt her presence behind him as she followed. He turned and she was there, a small sad smile on her lips as she stepped in close. With slow movements, she began to disrobe him, teasing his shirt over his head, her eyes traveling his firm muscled body. He wasn’t a bulky as Treble appeared to be, but he was trim and cut, the body of an athlete, not a weight lifter. She allowed her hands to glide down his body to his belt, her eyes never leaving his. This was a night she wanted to remember,
had
to remember, for this final night of pleasure with the man she loved would have to sustain her for the rest of her life.

He turned her as he stepped out of his pants, his fingers slowly unbuttoning her shirt as he stood behind her and kissed her neck, her head tipping to the side. He slid his hands under her blouse and up her trim stomach, cupping a breast in each hand. Bridget was a goddess, trim, toned and kissed by the sun, her face angelic with her large dark eyes, her body like the sculpture of the perfect woman. He slowly slid her shirt from her shoulders, dragging the strap of her bra with it. She slowly turned in his arms, her lips seeking his, and as they kissed, he released the catches of her bra.

She allowed her brassiere to fall from her before pressing in tight, enjoying the touch of their flesh as they kissed in another slow joining of their lips. He took a half-step back and sat down on the bed, removing his socks as she wriggled out of her shorts, panties, and sandals before joining him on the bed. The moment he was still in the center of the bed, she draped herself across him, kissing him fully. She marveled at how he made her feel. Normally their sex was rough and tumble, but even in this slow sensuous love-making she could feel her passions beginning to roar. She realized then it wasn’t
how
she was making love, it was with
who.
The problem wasn’t that Terry wasn’t aggressive enough in the bedroom; the problem was he wasn’t Stiles. Even if Terry could change and become the hard fucking partner she wanted, she realized that still wouldn’t be enough.

Stiles rolled her over and pinned her to the bed as he entered her. She gasped softly at his passage, her eyes going wide and she stared at him as if in shock. He began to drive into her with slow powerful strokes, holding her tight as he plunged into her again and again. His darkness was subdued tonight, his need to fuck her hard, to pound into her until his need was satiated missing. He couldn’t tell her how he felt about her, but his actions, the way she made him feel, was coming through in his love-making.

She held him as he made love to her, her hands on his back, holding him close as he pumped into her while kissing her neck, jaw and shoulder. She could feel her orgasm forming up and she began to keen, the pleasure blotting out everything except this moment. He tried to raise himself up as he began to drive into her harder, but she held him, wanting,
needing
to feel his touch tonight.

Normally he would have powered out of her embrace, thrilling in the conflict and contest of wills, but not tonight and he gave in to her embrace, tucking his hands under her again to hold her tight. He could sense her winding up, holding him tighter, then tighter still, until with an almost inaudible whimper she gripped him hard, holding to him as if he were lifeline. He continued to pummel her with his hips as her fingers dug into his back, kissing her neck until with whoosh of air she relaxed while her embrace lessened.

She felt his lips against hers and she took them hungrily as the last vestiges of her climax washed out of her. He pulled back from the kiss, his eyes dark and intense, yet also strangely soft. She had experienced harder orgasms in the past, but never had one been so deeply satisfying, this one warming her in ways her brain-melting orgasms didn’t, and she smiled at him.

***

Stiles smiled back as Bridget wiped the sweat from his face again, her hands gliding over his face and down his shoulders to his arms. He didn’t want this night to end, but he was nearing the end, unable to hold back against his orgasm much longer. He lowered himself to her again, enjoying the closeness as her arms closed around his back once more.

“I’m going to come,” he whispered into her ear as he kissed her neck.

“So am I,” she replied as she tightened her embrace. Feeling his sweat, knowing he was approaching his rapture caused her own lurking orgasm to leap closer.

After her first orgasm, they had settled into a slow easy lovemaking, never changing position, neither wishing to give up the intimacy of their embrace or lose the ability to look into the other’s eyes. But after many long moments, they both felt the need for the final sprint.

He tried to rise up again, wanting to drive into her harder and faster than possible while wrapped in her embrace, but again she clung to him as her legs drew up and back.