The Fight for Us (13 page)

Joss said nothing at all as she waited. She did close her eyes and took deep, calming breaths as she waited for more of his voice. The warmth and calmness of his tone alone was as much a turn on to her as anything, and it wasn’t until he spoke that she realized just what that deep masculine voice coupled with incredibly explicit language could do to the already hot arousal between her legs.

“Do you like being bitten?”

She was silent for a moment, but she scrunched her forehead, forcing her eyes to stay tightly closed, and she took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Can’t say I have been.”

The hum he returned melted her insides, and she could feel the wetness between her legs building. “But you liked it when I touched your nipple. It was hard as hell. How about my teeth raking across those tight little peaks, catching on them, clamping down gently before I suck on them.”

She groaned. Conscious speech was really going to be a problem.

“I like to use my teeth. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to keep your nerves happy.” He paused for a moment. He couldn’t possibly think she was capable of responding. The chuckle said he was well aware she was past knowing what to do with her mouth. “How about fingers? Do you like to feel a man’s fingers inside your pussy, fucking you?”

She gasped at his language. It was a complete rush to hear the crass and even vulgar words coming from his usually controlled and serious mouth. Hell, this was as controlled and measured as always; it just happened to be controlled vulgarity. He knew what he was doing.

“Umm… What?” She’d lost track of her mind for a second, and all she could think about was what his fingers would feel like inside her. “Oh, fuck,” she muttered. Her thighs were clamped tightly together as she lay curled up on her side, but her free hand snaked between her legs, and she held it clamped just as tightly as her need.

“Focus, Joss. I’m not done yet. How about my tongue? You know what it feels like in your mouth. Where else would you like to feel it?” He hummed again—that thoughtful, well-played hum that said he knew exactly what every word and every sound he made was doing to her.

“Somewhere…somewhere else…” Her voice was all breath with no real substance at all. She was losing her mind, and perhaps for the first time in her life, she was losing her mouth too.

“I can think of more
somewheres
than you can imagine. How about your neck? Your ears? Your nipples? Have you ever noticed how incredible it feels to have a tongue work its way down the side of your ribs? Can’t forget the hip bones. Of course this path all takes me closer to that hot, wet pussy of yours—”

She growled in frustration as she pushed that very hot place he was referring to against the side of her hand that was still tight between her legs. “You have to stop saying those words,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry. Do you prefer the word cunt?”

She’d have thought he said it in normal conversation all the time, given the relaxed tone of his voice.

“Fucking hell.” She was muttering, and he laughed again.

“Say it for me.”

“What?” There was no way in hell.

“Your choice. Cunt or pussy, but so help me God, if you say some lame ass word like flower or lady garden you’ll pay for it later, because I don’t fuck gardens or flowers any more than I have a love sword attached to my groin.”

She groaned, but this was absolute frustration—and arousal too if she was completely honest.

“Say it. I want to finger it, lick it, and fuck it. The least you can do is give it a name.”

“Pussy.” She was practically whispering, but he heard her.

“Thank you. I’m kind of preferential to that word too. There isn’t a single spot on your body I don’t want to taste and touch. Of course, I’m not nearly so giving without thinking a bit about myself too.”

Joss’s entire body was trembling, and she was panting like an animal. There was little chance he couldn’t hear it.

“Would you let me fuck your mouth?” Again with the blatant language, so much so, she whimpered as she imagined looking up at him as he thrust into her. “You can’t imagine how much I want to see my cock sink between your lips and into your throat.”

“Holy fuck.”

He chuckled at her loss of intelligible words, and she finally rolled to her back, giving in to the need to touch herself. Her hand pushed past the ugly pajama pants she was wearing, slipping beneath the waistband of her underwear, and when her fingers delved between her lips, she was slippery and warm. She groaned again, her breath catching in her throat as she did.

“You’re touching yourself aren’t you?”

“No!” Her response was a bit too quick.

“Oh, yes you are. Do me a favor.” He paused.

“Hmm?” Her fingers were stroking, and that monosyllabic utterance was the most she could hope for.

“Say my name when you come. I promise I’ll say yours when I do the same. Now I’m off to take a shower—the only place a parent can really hope for any assurance of privacy.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never heard you so speechless.”

She was a bit brainless too at the moment.

“God, I want to stay on the line and listen to you come.” His voice was as breathy as hers was. “But I’m guessing I’m going to be expected downstairs any moment for a scary movie fest, and I desperately need a shower before that happens.”

Joss’s voice caught in her throat as she tried to respond and nothing but a raspy gasp came out. Her finger was still gently gliding over her hardened peak of nerves, and it was all she could do to hold the phone to her ear. The very visual image of him touching himself as he stood in the shower was driving her need for release, and just before she passed over her threshold, she forced her fingers to still.

“Isaiah…” She was panting as she tried to slow her heart rate.

“Yes.” He was silent as he waited for her to continue.

“Come to dinner on Sunday? One o’clock?”

“We’ll be there. Text me the address. I really do have to go before I lose my mind. Goodnight, Joss. Have fun finishing on your own.”

“You too…” Her voice trailed off as her fingers started moving again.

She listened to him laugh one more time.

“I intend to.”

And then he was gone, and she dropped the phone, letting her free hand twist and pull at the sheets as her other hand worked. She closed her eyes and imagined his eyes focusing on her as his fingers invaded her, and then she imagined that warm, delicious tongue. When she came, she was crying out his name.

Best fucking phone call of her life.

Chapter Twelve

This was going to be entirely too much fun for so many reasons. First, Isaiah wanted to see Joss so much it was driving him crazy. Second, he expected she’d be fighting her blush for most of the afternoon, and third, he had every intention of kissing her again, and there was just no reining in the desire that incited. And, oh yeah, fourth, his daughter had few friends in the world, and she actually liked spending time with Harper—however much he never expected to see that.

“Hi.” And there was her blush—more than blush actually, and all it took was her simplest of greeting as she opened the door and the smirk he returned. She was scarlet. Harper beside her was a cool cat while her mother acted like she was losing her mind.

“Did you have a good Thanksgiving?” He was just taunting.

“Yeah! I went to the movies with Steph.” Mini-Joss answered assuming he must be speaking to her. Most likely a result of the fact she thought her mom had no life. Of course, Joss had been in bed at eight on that evening. “Oh, you were talking to mom,” she muttered sheepishly as Nat laughed.

“I was, but I’m glad you had a good holiday too.” He smiled at Harper.

Harper scrunched up her face in embarrassment. “I should have asked Nat to go. I will next time Steph and I go to the movies.”

“Yes, you should. Nat likes movies, and I like the occasional bit of free time to be an adult.” He leveled his eyes on Joss, who was still the color of a cranberry.

“Oh!” Harper’s sudden interjection made Joss jump thanks to the fact she appeared ready to crawl out of her skin. He was just having too much fun. “You should take my mom out. I mean seriously, all she did Thanksgiving night was watch
The
Lawrence Welk Show
.” Harper must have caught the dumbfounded shaking of his head, because she quickly continued. “I’m not kidding. That’s what she said when I got back from the movies.”

“Oh, that’s not good.” Nat piped up in agreement as Harper reached out and grabbed her arm. Nat was pulled along behind Harper into the house and up the stairs to the second story as he and Joss looked after them for a moment.

He chuckled and waited for them to disappear before he returned his attention to the rather nervous woman in front of him. “Going to invite me in?”

“I don’t know. Can you behave yourself?” She was trying to mask her nerves with a little sarcasm.

“Me,” he cried incredulously. “You’re one to talk.
The Lawrence Welk Show
? Really?”

“I was trying to play it cool.”

“And you thought
The Lawrence Welk Show
was playing it cool? That’s geriatric cool, I suppose.”

She backed away from the door, letting him pass by into her foyer. The house smelled delicious. He had no idea what the hell she was cooking, but his mouth was watering as he followed her down a hallway toward the kitchen. The home was a small, cute Cape Cod style, and it was impeccably decorated. He loved the look. It was neither feminine nor masculine. It was just simple and rustic. The flooring was wide wood plank flooring with a worn, rich finish. The furniture he glimpsed as they passed the living room was a vibrant Kelly Green linen, and the walls were a worn and aged white. Who said white was out? There was an incredible mix of black and white photography and bold colorful paintings interspersed throughout the house. While he’d never think to pair such contrasting styles, she made it work impressively. She obviously had an eye for this. He had to admit, he loved décor. He was no good at straying from the simple and basic himself, but he appreciated a good sense of style, and he was falling in love with hers the farther into her home he followed her.

But then he made it into her kitchen. It was a metropolis of dirty skyscrapers of stacked bowls. He shook his head as he chuckled, and she turned to him with an embarrassed expression.

“I don’t know what happened,” she muttered. “But I actually think it might taste good. That doesn’t happen very often.” She glanced away. She seemed so insecure at the moment.

“What are you making us?”

“Pork chops stuffed with orange cranberry stuffing and salad. It was a Thanksgiving recipe I found on Pinterest a couple weeks ago.”

“And that explains the—” He started ticking off the number of mixing bowls as he counted.

She finally smiled, and she tossed the dishtowel she’d just picked up at him. He caught it, and before she could react, he quickly slung it around her neck and pulled her to him, leaning down to get his lips on hers. He’d been fantasizing about her damn mouth since he’d extricated his tongue from it a week before, and kissing her now felt so long overdue he was pretty sure his insides were vibrating.

She gasped as his mouth met hers, and her sound was quickly stifled by his tongue as it passed between her lips. It finally turned to an incredible moan as she relaxed into him. He could feel the swell of her breasts held tight between them against his chest as she stood on her tiptoes, and he angled his head down to her. His lips smacked against hers, and he mumbled a curse against her mouth as he finally dropped the towel so he could clutch at her hips and pull her body even closer. His body was already covering hers, and there was no
closer
to be had, but it didn’t stop him from pulling her hard against him.

He was beyond aroused and straining against the front of his jeans, and given the quiet mewling sound Joss was making as he held her to him, she wasn’t missing it. When the sound of giggling girls and the kitchen door suddenly being pushed open interrupted them, she practically shoved him away from her. He started coughing and clearing his throat as he snatched the dishrag up from the floor and held it loosely and casually in front of him.

“Oh!” Harper exclaimed as she caught their frantic movements to get away from one another, and then she and Nat both burst into laughter as they grabbed juice boxes from the fridge.

The giggling didn’t stop until they were nearly out the door again. Joss put her hand to her forehead as though she could make the humiliation disappear if she pushed hard enough against her head. But it was Harper’s final comment that put them both over the humiliation threshold.

“Hope you’re using protection,” Harper chided as she pushed through the door before they could even react, let alone discipline.

“Dad’s neutered anyway,” was Nat’s contribution to his hell.

And the icing on the cake was Harper’s voice trailing back to them. “You mean they cut it off? Eww!”

“Fuck,” Joss muttered under her breath as she turned to the counter, letting her body slump into it as her elbows met the countertop and her head dropped dramatically to her palms.

“They didn’t cut anything off.” He offered.

She peered over at him as her lips pulled up. It was an adorable sheepish expression, but she was at least smiling. “I’m well aware nothing’s missing down there, but thanks for the reassurance.”

“Do you need more reassurance?”

She glanced down at the dishrag, and he dropped it instantly. He moved to her and lifted her to the only clean spot on the counter before she could object. He pulled her knees apart as he pushed his hips between them, and then he pulled her hips against his, letting her feel for herself exactly what was there.

She cursed again as she nuzzled into his neck and her fingers dug into his back. “What happened to not being ready?” She murmured against his skin.

“I’m ready for you.” There was no truer statement ever made. “I’m so fucking ready for you.” He groaned as her lips tickled his neck some more. “Did you come the other night?” He breathed out the words against her ear as they incited a very visual image of her writhing and moaning beneath him.