Hell Without You (13 page)

Hands fumbling below the pushed-up hem of his shirt, he was unbuttoning his jeans.

Her heart leapt at the sight of the trail of dark hair disappearing below the denim, his fingertips brushing his own bare skin. He stood between her thighs, and she kept them open as she sat up, aching to be closer to him, to see more.

Slipping both hands beneath his shirt, she ran them up his stomach, reaching for his chest before sliding them below.

He sighed as he yanked down his jeans zipper, freeing the stiff rod of his dick. He wore underwear, but the shape was clearly visible beneath, from the thick shaft to the round head straining against the waistband, stretching the cotton. Seeing him hard for the first time in seven years was as thrilling as the first time had been – more so. Fingers burning, she tucked them beneath the waistband of his underwear, pulling down hard as she reached for him with her other hand.

His shaft was hot and velvet-smooth against her palm, as rigid as the muscles in his thighs, which stood out taut and defined above his fallen jeans. Once, then twice, she allowed herself to pump her fist from the head to the base of his cock, and then she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the tip.

There was a hint of moisture there already; it was spread across her lips when his hips jerked, a seemingly involuntary reaction. Breathing a sigh, she opened her mouth, stroking the underside of his shaft with her tongue as she took him in.

He moaned and she kept her eyes open just so she could watch him throw back his head, his lips moving silently as a tremor raced through his hips. When he slipped a hand into her hair, he cupped the back of her skull, fingers clenching tight. The pull and pressure made her mouth water around his hardness, made her core draw up tight as she recognized the desperation in his hold – it was the same way she’d held on to him as he’d pushed her to the edge.

Slipping a hand between his tensed legs, she cupped his balls, cradling their heat and weight in her palm, squeezing.

A ragged sound rushed from his mouth, but it wasn’t a word, not even a curse, and his eyes were firmly shut. If she hadn’t had her mouth on his dick and his balls in her hand, she might’ve thought he was praying, his expression was so intense – so serious.

She took him deep, her lips touching the dark hair at his groin, then slid higher, caressing his head with her tongue, her nipples tingling as his breathing took on a ragged pattern.

As his tension mounted, it was evident in his every muscle, his every breath. Sucking harder, she braced herself for a rush of heat and wetness against her tongue. She could already taste traces of it; it would happen any second now. Imagining it, she rolled his balls in her hand, massaging the smooth skin just behind them with her fingertips.

He pulled back without warning, so quickly the motion felt violent, leaving her mouth empty after a wet
pop
.

She blinked, at eye level with his cock, with the vein running up the swollen shaft and the blunt head, all of it shining from being inside her mouth. She’d barely begun to form a question when he kicked his jeans and underwear all the way off, then yanked his shirt over his head.

He was naked – suddenly and fully. It wasn’t like before, when she’d found him that way, helped him that way. This time he was naked
for
her, his entire body hard and just inches from hers. Those inches were obliterated when he leaned forward, placing one knee on the bed as he came down on her, pressing the full length of his bare body against hers as he rocked her back against the mattress.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, his lips brushing her ear, “this feels good.”

A wordless reply rose from the pit of her chest, rushing over her parted lips as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hips were against hers; his chest compressed her breasts and she could feel his pulse in his groin, his dick throbbing against her belly. And there was nothing between them. Good didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Do you—” she began, cut off when he pressed his mouth to hers, silencing her with a bruising kiss.

As their tongues twined together, he flexed his hips, sending his cock sliding a little higher up her belly.

“Do I what?” he asked after several breathless moments.

His eyes no longer flashed; they were slightly hazy now, and she felt the same pleasure creeping over her, causing everything but his face to go out of focus. “Do you have a condom?” she finally asked, already thinking of his hard flesh inside her, stretching her softer tissue.

His eyes clouded a little more, and a line appeared between them. “Don’t you take a pill?”

“No. Not anymore.” Her pussy seized up at the thought of his bare cock sliding inside her, the way they’d done things back when she’d been eighteen. She’d taken care of all her living expenses herself with a part-time job during college, and birth control pills had been an unessential expense, with Donovan out of the picture. So she’d stopped taking them.

He breathed a long sigh, his breath rushing against her cheek, filing her lungs with the combined scent of mint and her body’s own muskiness. “I thought—” He flexed his hips again, grinding his erection against her as he made an animal sound of regret. “I didn’t think things would be different.”

His hope – his blind trust – struck a chord deep inside her. “I’m healthy,” she explained, “but I could get pregnant.”

“Yeah.” His lips brushed her neck and he breathed hard. “You could.” Applying not-so-gentle suction, he let his teeth scrape the side of her neck.

He’d leave a mark. Her internal muscles tensed at the thought, and an ache flared between her thighs. “God, Donovan… Don’t you care?” Shock rippled through her system, half-horrifying her and half-delighting her for some reason she couldn’t articulate – not with the haze of pleasure fogging her brain, anyway.

“The only thing I’m afraid of is a life without you,” he said, lips hot against her neck as he spoke, pausing to bite her tender skin again. “There’s nothing you can say to scare me off. Nothing I wouldn’t want, as long as it was with you.”

She moaned, indulging in silence for a few moments afterward. How could saying nothing while letting him continue to suck and bite her skin, using his tongue to soothe the rawness he created with his teeth, feel so right and so wrong at the same time? “You don’t mean that.” When she said it, it came out with much less conviction than she’d meant to infuse it with.

He stopped what he was doing abruptly, raising his head. “You think I’m lying to you?” His dark brows knit together. “Fuck, Clementine, you know I don’t lie to you. Say you want it too and I’ll be inside you in a heartbeat. I’ll come inside you and it’ll be the best damn decision I’ve made in seven years.”

Her body responded in ways she wouldn’t let her mind, tightening, slickening. The balance – the sameness – she’d felt tying her and Donovan together only minutes ago faded away. Now, she was the one who had to hold back – who had to hold them both back. “Don’t. Don’t do that, and don’t tempt me any more than you already are. We have to use protection. I don’t want a baby.” The fact that he was wide open to the idea of having one with her struck her in a strange place, curling her lips in a wry half-smile. “It’s nothing personal.”

He held her gaze, expression serious. “Do you want me?”

“You know I do.”

He propped himself on one elbow, reaching below, between their bodies, with his other hand.

“What are you—” She felt her eyes go wide as he guided the tip of his erection between her thighs.

“Trust me.”

The head of his cock bumped her clit and she moaned, burying an eyetooth in her lip as her heart raced. Adrenaline and bittersweet expectation sped through her, a thrill that shook her to her core. How could he? And how could she not stop him, not reach down and wrap her hand around his shaft,
right now
? Before things got out of hand, before she succumbed completely to the lover / hero-worship he’d sent rushing through her system when he’d pushed her to her limits with his tongue and teeth?

“Oh, God, that feels good.” She tensed beneath him, sighing as he massaged her clit with the head of his dick, thrilling her with perfect pressure and skin-to-skin contact without being inside her.

“Yeah,” he breathed, bowing his head so it was like she was looking down at him from above, even though she lay beneath him. His lashes fanned night-black and long against the soft skin beneath his eyes, curling there as he closed them. “I thought you’d like this.”

“Mmm…” She lost all desire to speak as familiar tension mounted inside her, intensifying with every second, every subtle movement of his wrist, which translated to friction against her clit. He didn’t enter her, but the pleasure penetrated her deeply.

She’d masturbated like this, pressing the blunt end of a vibrator against her clit. Coupled with thoughts of him, it’d been enough to get her off. But this – the real thing – was so much more.

When she arched against the mattress, he lowered his head to her chest, capturing one of her nipples between his lips, sucking.

She gasped, the ache in her core spreading to her breasts as he pulled on one hardened tip, drawing it deep into his mouth.

Ecstasy swept through her as he remained bowed above her arched body, his dick against her clit, his mouth on her breast. The friction and suction combined to overwhelm her completely, pushing her over the edge again. She gripped his shoulder, digging her nails in as she let her hips buck, pushing back against his hard cock. Contractions rippled through her like waves, peaking and ebbing, making her moan.

He rose, lifting his head from her breast as he pulled back from her pussy. “Temptation,” he said, his gaze fixed between her spread thighs. “I never knew what it was until now.”

She sure as hell knew what it was after what he’d just done to her.

“Trust me,” she said, rising to her knees and repeating what he’d said to her.

Kneeling across from her, he was obviously a man tormented – shaft so hard, skin flushed and taut against its veined sides, balls close to his body. Eyes roving all over
her
naked body.

She knelt, bracing herself with a hand on his thigh as she lowered her head into his lap.

He groaned when she closed her mouth around the head of his cock, tonguing the flesh he’d just used to give her pleasure.

“Clementine.” He buried both hands in her hair, guiding her further down his shaft, flexing his hips until the tip of his erection hit the back of her throat.

She swallowed, gripped his thigh harder and focused on the taste of his skin – a combination of his distinct saltiness and her own body’s flavor. Feeling him so hard against her tongue, hearing him breathe like he’d just run a marathon… Another thrill went through her. He’d still come inside her.

Not the way he’d meant, but still. She’d waited way too long to feel him do it again, had tortured herself thinking about it so many times. And now, judging by the way his thigh had turned to steel beneath her hand, it was about to happen.

He groaned, voice low and rough, and gripped her hair more tightly, his fists tangled in her locks as she sucked him hard.

A hot rush hit the back of her tongue, and he said her name again, swore and rocked his hips. It kept coming – he kept coming. And she cupped his balls, cradling them as he finished.

When she rose, he slid one hand down her back, keeping the other in her hair, and drew her close against his chest. “That was good. So damn good. But not enough.” He slipped a hand between her thighs, his fingertips skimming the lips of her pussy. “I need you – all of you.”

* * * * *

A quick trip to Studebaker’s Grocery shouldn’t have required all of Clementine’s mental focus, but it did.

God.
Her head was still spinning after what she and Donovan had done, and her entire body tingled. A mirror next to a produce shelf showed her swollen lips and a hint of flushed skin, just barely visible above the shallow v-neck of her sweater. All she wanted was to get back to the house and climb into bed with Donovan. What they’d done had been good, but now that she’d stopped trying to repress her raging desire for him, it had taken over her system completely.

“Apples?” she muttered under her breath, trying her best to be distracted by a shelf full of Granny Smiths. While Donovan was getting the condoms, she was picking up a few essentials – something to make for dinner. Being reunited with him had her feeling oddly optimistic – so much so that baking a pie from scratch suddenly seemed like a perfectly good idea.

It had been a while since she’d baked – kitchen and counter space had always been at a premium in the tiny New York apartment she’d shared with two other women – but she’d enjoyed it during her teen years. Donovan’s face had always lit up when she’d brought him her latest culinary endeavor. Brownies, cookies, pies and tarts – he’d loved them all. Dropping a few choice apples into a bag, she moved on to the dry goods aisles.

Pasta would be an easy dish and would leave her time to devote to the pie. She placed a jar of sauce in her basket, along with a box of noodles. There were still vegetables at the house she could use to make a salad. Now all she needed was some bread.

The baked goods were next to the produce, so she back-tracked, nearly rubbing elbows with locals in the narrow walkway between aisles. Studebaker’s was smaller than the chain stores, but more conveniently located. On the far end of Main Street, just a couple blocks down from Ann’s, it was easy to get to, and that fact drew plenty of shoppers.

She came to a sudden halt as an elderly woman emerged from an aisle, pushing her cart directly into her path. The shopping basket hanging from Clementine’s elbow swung, its contents shifting, and one apple bounced free as something struck the basket from behind.

“Sorry.” A male voice came from behind her, and she could feel the shopping cart that had nearly rear-ended her pulling away.

“It’s all right,” she muttered, bending to pick up the apple.

When she rose, the man was disappearing down an aisle.

The cereal aisle, to be exact, which reminded her that she needed to pick up a box or two. Donovan didn’t have much left in the way of breakfast supplies, mostly because she’d been sharing them.

She froze at the end of the aisle as her gaze settled on the man who’d bumped her basket with his cart. His blond hair was clipped short and he wore an orange polo shirt, khaki pants and leather boat shoes. There was something familiar – something that made her spine prickle – about the ensemble, about his build. Suspicion stole into the center of her being, displacing the all-consuming hunger for more of Donovan.

The man in orange was maybe thirty – about the right age… When he turned to pull a box of cereal from the shelf, revealing his side profile, certainty hit her like a ton of bricks.

She was staring – for the first time in seven years – at her step-brother, Trevor. She hadn’t forgotten his face – how could she? And even from a distance, his nose seemed to be slightly crooked – humped across the bridge, where Donovan had broken it. She wouldn’t have noticed the irregularity if she hadn’t been looking for it – it was so subtle. No doubt he’d had the best medical care, even a plastic surgeon, if he’d wanted one.

Bile crept into her throat, pushed up by her suddenly-churning stomach. Her anger was hot, but her fear was cold – the two clashed inside her, creating a storm front of emotion. Turning on her heel, she walked abruptly away.

Trevor didn’t seem to have recognized her – and why would he have, from the back? She was somewhat tall, fairly slender and undeniably brunette. Nothing about her appearance would make anyone who hadn’t seen her for years do a double-take. She wasn’t afraid of him, anyway. She’d re-break his nose herself before she let him touch her again, if he even had the gall to try, now that she was an adult instead of a teenage girl.

No, she was afraid for Donovan – afraid of what he’d do if he saw Trevor. Knowing that the two men were inside the same store tempted her to scream, but she had to keep quiet, had to seem normal until she got Donovan out of the danger zone. Only hours ago, he’d expressed his enduring rage against her family, and she had no doubt that he’d kept the flame of his hatred for Trevor well-fed over the years.

It was way too easy to picture blood splattered red and fresh over the worn-out, greyish floor tiles.

Donovan appeared in the main aisle that ran along the store’s three check-out lanes, his strong arms cradling a box of condoms – a large one – and a gallon of milk.

Her already-disturbed stomach balled up – he’d been in the grocery aisles.

“Hey.” She tried to sound casual as she approached him. “Ready to get out of here?” She willed a suggestive smile to reach her lips, but it wouldn’t come.

“You know I am.” He grinned and stepped into the nearest lane, placing his two items on the belt.

Clementine hurried to empty her basket of groceries there too, her heart beating a little faster with each moment the cashier took to scan their selections. What if Trevor made his way to one of the adjacent check-out lanes – or worse, got in line behind them?

She couldn’t lose Donovan again. Not now, less than an hour after they’d finally come together again – not ever. And she knew in her bones that if Donovan laid eyes on Trevor, there would be blood. Again.

“Forty-two seventy-six,” the cashier said, motioning toward the card reader.

Donovan scanned his bank card, and Clementine hurried to collect the three bags their purchases had been placed in.

“Let me get those.” Heat and electricity raced over the surface of her skin as he took the bags from her, his hands brushing hers.

She didn’t protest, only moved toward the double-doors in front of them. One, two, three, four long strides and they were outside, breathing in autumn night air.

“Got cold while we were in there,” Donovan remarked. “You warm enough in that sweater?”

“Me?” She glanced down at the single layer she wore. “I’m fine.” Truth was, she was burning up – near-manic stress had a way of heating one from the inside out, even if the air was chilly.

“You seem kinda uncomfortable.” He opened his truck door, placing the bags on the back seat.

She hurried into the passenger side. “I’m okay. Eager to get back to the house, but okay.”

His full lips stretched into a smile as he turned the key in the ignition, and even in the dark, his eyes flashed. “When you put it that way, I’m kinda uncomfortable myself.”

Her gaze was drawn to his lap, where his erection showed plainly beneath his jeans.

He made a sound low in his throat. “When I was touching you with the head of my dick, it was so hard not to slide inside you…”

A sudden, sharp tightening struck her core. Stressed or not, she couldn’t repress her body’s physical response to his words.

“I kept thinking about it,” he continued. “Kept imagining what it’d be like to feel you wrapped around me for the first time in seven years. God, I want you.”

His voice had gone low, gravelly. Main Street was behind them now, the small town fading fast as he steered toward the road that would take them into the rural area beyond. They passed Shady Side, but it was barely a blur in the dark, and he seemed to take no notice.