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Authors: M. Leighton

Up to Me (18 page)

BOOK: Up to Me
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Still not laying a hand on me, Cash reaches to my side and pours another shot.  He hands it to me. “Again.”

I repeat the steps, only this time Jack dribbles from my chin straight down the center of my chest, between my breasts and over my stomach. 

The first drop that slides through the short hair between my legs hits my hot, sensitive flesh like a tingle of electricity.  I let the rest of the liquid flow past my lips, hyper aware of the stream that’s pouring between my legs. 

Reaching out with his hand, Cash moves one finger between my legs, wetting it in the whiskey that’s collecting there. His eyes rise to mine as he slips that finger into his mouth.

“Mmm, that’s good,” he purrs.  He bends his head and kisses the inside of my thigh.  “But not nearly as good as you.”  With one long stroke, he licks the opening between my legs. “I didn’t even want to think about never tasting you again,” he whispers. His mouth is so close to my wet body, I can feel his warm breath.  “Oh, God! The way you taste…”

Planting his hands on my inner thighs, Cash pushes them further apart and presses his mouth against me. With one quick thrust, his tongue is inside.  If I were standing I would collapse. The whiskey was like electricity, but this…this is like lightning.

I reach out and thread my fingers into his short hair, holding him to me as he moves his lips and tongue, sucking and licking and penetrating me over and over again.

I’m straining against him, moving my hips against his face.  The familiar aching tension is building within me when he suddenly stops.

I could cry. Or scream.

“Not yet, baby,” he says softly, putting his hand in the center of my chest and pushing.  I turn and lie back on the bar.  Cash hops up onto it, settling between my legs.  “I want you coming on me, while I’m filling you up, stretching you tight.”

He bends each of my knees until my feet are flat on the bar and then I feel his tongue again, probing me, making hot circles over the most sensitive parts, giving me stabbing thrusts in the others. He works first one, then two fingers into me, crooking them and rubbing me from the inside as he pulls them in and out of me. 

Within seconds, I’m right back where I was—riding the cusp of an impending orgasm.

Again, he stops.  Just before I tip over the edge. My breathing is ragged and so is his as he moves forward, scooting his knees under my hips and grabbing my arms to pull me up onto him, my legs on the outside of his. 

Like two pieces of a perfectly engineered puzzle, I fit perfectly against him, his hard length sliding between my folds, caressing me, teasing my opening.  He crushes my hips to his, reaching down between us to move his still wet fingers over me. 

“What would you say if I told you they could see us?” he says, tipping his head to the side, toward the bank of glass to my left.  My heart hammers in my chest.  “What if I told you the mirror is only effective when the lights are on up here?  What if I told you they could see us if they bothered to look up?  Would that turn you on?”  He pushes his fingers inside me and I feel my body squeeze them, pulling at them, craving the penetration.  “Oooo, you like that, don’t you?  You like the thought of maybe getting caught, of maybe being seen, don’t you?”

With his hands on my hips, he holds me still, his head poised right at my entrance.  “Tell me you like it,” he instructs.

Breathing heavily, nearly ready to beg him, I admit the excitement that he already knows I feel.  “I like it.”

Sharply, he pulls me down and flexes his hips, thrusting into me.  I can’t stop the cry of pure pleasure that bursts from my lips.  “How would you feel about them seeing your beautiful body?  Them seeing me licking you and touching you?”  As if to make his point, Cash pulls my nipple into his mouth and sucks.  Hard.

I slide my fingers through his hair and clench them, tugging him closer to me as he urges my body into a rhythm.

“Do you like the thought of someone watching you ride me?  Watching you slide up and down on me?  Watching your face when you come for me?  Watching your mouth move as you say my name, over and over again?”

His words!  Damn him and his words!  They make me forget that I care about anything.  I can’t think. I can only feel—feel his fingers biting into my hips, feel his mouth at my chin, his lips at my throat, his teeth at my nipple, feel his breath, feel his body driving into mine.

“You like that, don’t you, baby?  You like for me to talk to you, to make you tell me things?”

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly.

He braces my hands on his chest as he leans back, flexing his hips beneath me as I ride him, allowing my body to slide down even further over his.

“Oh, damn!  So deep,” he moans.

I rise up and fall down on him, feeling each penetration pounding through me.  Cash leans back on one elbow and brings his other hand between us to touch me.  With his thumb, he rubs me.  The air leaves the room and I can’t breathe.  I’m panting, saying things, all sorts of things. I don’t even know what kinds of things, but I know they’re dirty things and I know Cash loves it.

“I know that feels good. I can feel you sucking at me, getting tighter.  So. Tight,” he breathes.  “Tell me you like it.”

“Oh God, I love it.”

“Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it.”

“I want,” I begin, unable even to finish the thought.

“Say it, baby.  Tell me.”

“I don’t want you to stop.  I want you to make me come.”

Cash groans and moves his fingers faster, in small tight circles, each stroke ratcheting my body up higher and higher. 

“You want me to make you come?  I’ll make you come so hard, you can’t say anything but my name,” he forces out through gritted teeth.   

Cash sits up suddenly, rolling forward and sliding me beneath him.  He grabs one of my legs behind the knee and pushes it up against my chest.  Forcefully, he pushes into me.  Once, twice and then I’m exploding. 

Spasms wrack my entire body, bringing with them a cascade of sensation—wave after wave of it—that I’ve never before experienced.  I can’t open my eyes. I can’t find my breath. I can’t move. I can only feel as I hear myself saying Cash’s name.  Over and over and over again.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY- Cash

 

Olivia is sprawled out on top of me.  I rolled us over shortly after we caught our breath so I wouldn’t crush her. I’m sure, to her, I feel like I weigh a ton.  Not so at all with her.  If it weren’t for her warmth, I’d almost forget she was there. She’s light as a feather. 

As she has a habit of doing, she’s tracing my tattoo. She sighs. 

“You ever gonna tell me what all this is about?” She sounds contented, satisfied. I can hear it in her voice.  She might as well be purring. 

“If you look closely enough, you can see all the separate elements of the story.”  I take my finger and trace each part as I explain to her what it all means.  “These are the flames that burned up that boat.  And my life.  These are the wings that flew away with the family I once knew.  This is sort of my version of the yin and yang symbol, for me and my lost twin.  And this rose is for my mother.  May she always rest in peace.”

“What’s this?” she asks, running her finger over the lettering that winds around my bicep, just below where the flames start.  It’s unintelligible now.  The bullet grazed part of it.

“It used to say ‘never forgotten’.”

“And this wound messed it all up.” 

I put one arm behind my head and look down at her.  She drags her liquid eyes up to mine.  “It’s fine.  And it was worth it.”

She closes her eyes, like she’s shutting out something painful.  “You could’ve been killed,” she says quietly.

“Hey,” I say, waiting until she opens her eyes to look at me.  “Now you know that I mean it when I say I’d take a bullet for you.  Olivia, I love you.  I’d gladly take a bullet or a knife or an ass-kicking or…whatever to keep you safe.”  Her emerald eyes glisten with unshed tears.  “That’s not supposed to make you sad or upset.”

“It doesn’t,” she says on a trembling voice. “It just makes me happy, hearing you say those words.”

“It does?” I grin.

She grins in return.  “Yeah.  Maybe a little.”

I run my fingers up her side to tickle her and I find that she’s sticky.  “As much as I’d love to stay here with you for a few more days, I suppose we’d better get downstairs and let you clean up.  You’re a sticky mess.”

“I wonder why?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but if you really need to know, we could try to recreate several scenarios until we discover the one that caused you to get so…sticky.”

“Promise?”

“Hell yeah, I promise!”

I peck her on the lips and smack her on the ass before I help peel her chest off mine. I do my best to ignore the way her nipples tighten with the stimulation.  I feel that telltale twitch between my legs that says some parts of me
can’t
ignore it.  Her next comment, however, effectively crushes any sign of a boner.

“So what’s the deal with Nash and Marissa?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Really?  You don’t care about what happens with Nash?”

I shrug. “It’s not like I wish the guy dead or anything, but he’s not much like the brother I remember.”

“Maybe you two just need some time to get reacquainted with each other, with the men you’ve become.”

I shrug again.  “Maybe.” 

But I’m not making any promises!

We get dressed, head back downstairs and make our way back to my apartment.  When I open the office door, I’m a little surprised to see Marissa sitting on the sofa.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting on...Nash.”  She stumbles over his name, which lets me know without asking that she realizes what’s going on. Well, at least that part of it, not all the other details.

“He’s not back yet? He was supposed to be right behind me.”

“I haven’t seen him.  Neither has Gavin.”

Prickles of suspicion raise the hairs at the back of my neck.  “I’ll call him and find out where he’s at,” I tell Marissa, pulling out my cell phone. 
And find out what the hell’s going on.

I select his number from the recently dialed list and I wait for it to ring on the other end.  When it does, I hear a muffled ring coming from the next room.  I think for a second it must be one of the burner cells Olivia and I have been using.

Probably that damn Ginger.

But then I hear the ring of the line against my ear again followed directly by another muffled ring in the next room.  Taking the phone with me, I walk back into my apartment.  I hear the ring again and it sounds like it’s coming from the bedroom.  I head that direction.

When I round the corner, I hear the ring tone again.  It sounds much clearer.  The interior of my bedroom is pitch black since there are no windows to let in even street or moon light.  I flick the switch to cut on the overhead light and there, lying unconscious on my bed, is a bloody Nash.

I hear someone gasp behind me. If I had to guess, I’d say it was Marissa. She seems to be in some sort of altered state, probably shock related.

But wouldn’t it be a freakin’ miracle if this whole ordeal unbitchified her?

I turn to see her peeking around me, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide and terrified.

“Ohmigod!  What have they done to him?”

Much to my surprise, she squeezes past me and rushes to his side.  She stands there looking down at him, her head going back and forth as she appraises him from head to toe and back again.  But she doesn’t move otherwise. I’m sure, with her upbringing, Marissa has no clue what to do at this very moment.  I’m just impressed that she’d even
try
to be concerned.

I walk to the head of the bed and look my brother over.  His face is busted up pretty bad.  He’ll look like a damn rainbow in the morning.  A puffy rainbow, that is. 

His knuckles are in bad shape, too.  I can’t help but smile that he probably gave
somebody
one hell of a fight.  It’s when I get to his abdomen that I get concerned.  His black leather jacket has fallen away from his side and I can see the wetness staining his black t-shirt.  I can also see the jagged slash in the material, revealing bloody skin and a slit in his side beneath it.

“Olivia, take Marissa and go get Gavin.  He’s working the bar in your place.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Olivia spring into action.  Marissa, however, is still standing beside me, looking like a deer caught in someone’s headlights.

“Marissa!” I shout sternly.  She jumps like I startled her.  She turns her confused eyes on me.  “Go with Olivia.”

She nods almost robotically and turns to let Olivia lead her from the room. I notice as she walks away, she keeps looking back at the bed. 

This will push her over the edge for sure. If she’s not already batshit crazy, this ought to take care of it.

I turn my attention back to Nash.  I check his pulse, which is strong.  I feel a rush of relief.  I didn’t want to alarm the females, but when I first looked at him, I wondered if he was dead.  I might not have much fondness for this new Nash, but it would still hurt like a bitch to lose him a second time.

As easily as I can, I mash on the bones around his eyes and jaw. Nothing feels broken.  It’s a good thing Davenports have strong bones. 

I feel around in his hair to see if I can feel any major head wound, thinking that might be why he’s unconscious.  I feel a goose-egg sized bump on the back of his head.  From what I know of head wounds, though, swelling out is always better than swelling in.

I make my way down to his side. I peel up his shirt from his stomach and examine what looks like a stab wound.  Thankfully it’s just oozing bright red blood now, which means it probably didn’t knick anything major, like an artery or an organ. 

I push gently on his stomach. It still feels soft and I know that’s a good sign, too.  When my fingers get close to his side, he moans and rolls his head.

“You all right, man?” I ask.

I hear the others come back right before Gavin appears at my side.

“Crikey!  Someone beat the shit out of ‘im!”

Nash cracks open an eyelid and glares at Gavin. It’s funny that he can convey so much feeling in that one small gesture.  “Kiss my ass,” he mumbles through his swollen, busted lips.

“What the hell happened?” I ask him.

“Somebody caught up with me on the bike.  I think it’s safe to say you’re gonna need a new one.”

Shit, shit, shit!

“Do you know who it was?”

“Nah.  They came up behind me out of nowhere.  Wrecked me then beat the fu—” Nash stops himself, cracking his eyelid again and looking at Marissa and Olivia.  “Sorry.  Beat the shit out of me while I was on the ground.  One of those Russian bastards stabbed me and then they went through my pockets, patting me down.”

“What were they looking for?”

“My phone, I think. I keep it in my boot so I won’t lose it, though.”

 I hiss through my teeth.

“What is it?” Olivia asks.

“I thought we’d be safe now. Or at least safe-
er.”

“You will be.  For a while anyway.  This was just a warning.  We’ve got three days to get them the rest of the copies and they said they’ll call it even.  If not, they’re coming after us.”

“But we could go to the cops with it.  It could incriminate them!”

“I guess that’s not enough to scare them.”

Part of me had wondered if it would be enough to be effective in keeping them away.  Evidently not.

“Three days, huh?”

“Three days.”

“Um, I know whatever you people are involved in is pretty serious stuff, but don’t you think we need to get him to the hospital?” Marissa interjects.

“No!” Nash cries.  “No hospitals.  They keep records.  And they call authorities.”

“Well, we can’t just let you lie here and die.”

“No worries, mate. I know a guy,” Gavin offers.

“A guy?” Nash asks.  “I don’t need to be offed. I just need to be patched up.”

“Yeah, this guy can do that, too.”

I say nothing over the “too” part.  I’d say most of Gavin’s associates are…shady.

“I don’t know if he’ll come to a place this…public, though.”

I think for a second.  “Think you can travel?” I ask Nash.

He tries to hide his cringe.  “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“You can go to the condo. We can have him meet you there.”

“Why don’t we go to my place?  That way, I can keep an eye on him afterward,” Marissa suggests.

“It’s too dangerous,” Olivia says.

“Agreed,” Nash adds.

“I’ll stay, too,” Gavin offers.  “He’s not able to defend himself very well in this state.  I can stay for a day or two, watch out for them.”

“No need for that.  If whoever these people are have already given him an ultimatum, wouldn’t it be highly unlikely that they’ll attack him again?  If they’d wanted to kill him, they could’ve done so already.”  Marissa, somehow, is the calm voice of reason.  “We’ll be all right there by ourselves.”

“I thought you’d be staying with your father,” Olivia says.

“No. I can’t stand to be there. Not with him. I feel like I don’t really know anybody anymore.”

“Then I’ll come and stay with you,” Olivia says.

“Absolutely not,” I blurt.

“Why not? She can’t be alone there with her only protection being someone who’s been stabbed.”

“You need to stay here with me.”

“No, I don’t.  I’ll be fine.  They’ve given us three days.  I’m sure they’ll leave us alone until then.”

“Olivia, I’m not willing to take the risk.  End of story.”

“End of story, huh?  So I have no say in the matter?”

I can see the sparks flying from her eyes. It’s a tense situation and her hackles are up. It’s kind of a turn-on, but now is neither the time nor the place to be thinking stuff like that.

I force myself to take a deep breath before I respond.  “I’m not trying to act like an insensitive dictator, but it’s not a good idea for you to go back there right now.”

“But it’s all right for Marissa?”

“More so than you, yes.”

“More so, but not completely?”

“Completely?  Probably not.”

“Then it’s settled. I’m going, too.”  Olivia turns to Gavin.  “Can I ride with you?”

I love Olivia, but at this very moment, I’d like to strangle her.  “No, you can’t.  He’ll be staying here and closing up while
we
take Nash to Marissa’s.”

Olivia looks at Gavin again and he shrugs, giving her the smile that says he’s staying out of it.

“Can you have your guy meet us there?”

“I think so. He owes me.”

“All right then.”  I turn to Nash.  “You need help getting to the car?”

“Nah, I got it.”  He says it casually, but I can see the sweat popping out on his forehead as he tries to push himself upright.   When he manages to haul himself to his feet, Olivia gets on one side and Marissa on the other and they help him navigate the short distance from the bedroom to the car where it’s parked in the garage.  As he’s hobbling past me, I see his lips twitch.

BOOK: Up to Me
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