Read What She Needs: Cape May, Book 3 Online
Authors: Anne Rainey
Tags: #Red Hots!, #Contemporary Romance
What She Needs: Cape May, Book 3 (5 page)
He pounded into her, sinking all the way in, slapping her ass with his balls. Over and over, hammering her with his cock. When her delicate moans turned to glorious shouts, Con ground his cock deep. He felt those delicious inner muscles of hers grip him like a hot little fist and he knew her orgasm was fast approaching.
Suddenly, she slammed against him, forcing Con past the point of reason.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned.
Tory’s wet cunt pulsed all around his dick as she came apart, shouting his name. Sweet little aftershocks continued to squeeze him and Con lost it. Two more strokes and he joined her as hot jets of come filled the condom. He very nearly collapsed on top of her, but the thought of her smaller frame kept his muscles from going lax. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted her to have nothing but sweet memories of tonight.
Con slid out of her boneless body and went to the master bath to dispose of the condom. He grabbed a washcloth from the shelf next to the tub, ran warm water over it and brought it to Tory. Her eyes were closed and she had a dreamy smile on her lips. His cock twitched as he watched her. He hadn’t realized how important it’d become to see her in his bed. As he bent and pressed the cloth to the juncture of her thighs, she stiffened and her eyes flew open. “Sorry, baby.”
“Con,” she said, her voice breathless. “You always take such good care of me.”
“And I always will, Tory, never doubt it.” He tossed the washcloth to the floor and slid in beside her.
She snuggled up next to him and sighed. The feel of her breasts pressed against his side sent a great big alert to his cock. Hell, he wanted her again. Would always want her. No surprise there. But could he go
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back to sharing her with Devon? Con purposely pulled up an image of the three of them together and waited for the familiar green monster to rear its ugly head. Sure enough, it was there, but it wasn’t as overwhelming. It didn’t steal his ability to think straight. Best of all, he didn’t feel the need to punch a wall.
That had to be a good thing.
28
Con woke to the gentle feel of Tory stroking his chest with her fingers. He looked around for Devon, then stopped himself and remembered. His gut tightened. What he’d just shared with Tory was beyond fantastic, it was a gift he’d cherish, but without Devon there, it felt…off.
“Is it morning already?” he asked. The room was semi-dark, with the curtains drawn so he couldn’t tell the time of day. Damned if he didn’t have the energy to check the clock next to the bed.
“Not quite.” She flicked his nipple with a fingernail. The little sting brought him around instantly.
“Keep that up and you’re going to be in trouble.”
Tory pulled her hand away. “I don’t want to play, not yet. I’d rather talk.”
Fuck, that didn’t sound good. “About?”
“You,” she stated. “Your past. Your life. You’re always so secretive. I want to know more about you, Con.”
He shifted, uncomfortable with the conversation already and they hadn’t even gotten into the ugly details. “It’s not a pretty picture. And I’d just as soon forget I had a past.”
“You can’t forget it,” she murmured, “no matter how hard you try.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t need to dwell on it, either.”
“Please, let me inside,” Tory pleaded. “Just this once.”
Con sighed. He knew Tory. She wasn’t going to let it go. “Where do you want me to start?”
Her hand came back to his chest and Con relaxed a measure. “Your biological parents,” she stated.
“Do you remember them?”
He tucked an arm behind his head and shrugged. “Not really. I was pretty young when social services yanked me.”
“Nothing at all?”
Her palm continued to massage and play. Was she soothing him? Knowing Tory, yes. And God help him, but he loved when she turned all gentle and caring.
“There is one.”
Her hand moved downward, over his abdomen. “A good memory or a bad one?”
“Good,” he gritted out, barely able to concentrate now that her fingers were so close to where he wanted her mouth to be. “I don’t remember my dad. My mother, I don’t know her name, but she was pretty.
At least that’s the way I remember her. She had long, black hair, a pretty, oval-shaped face and a kind Anne Rainey
smile. And she used to sing. Silly kids tunes. I remember this one time when I joined in. We were sitting in the kitchen, I was eating…cereal, I think. And we were singing together.”
“She sounds like a good person. What happened to her?”
“I don’t know. No one ever bothers to tell the kids a damn thing. And by the time I was old enough to go looking for her myself, I didn’t much give a shit.”
Her finger dipped into his belly button and he had to bite back a curse. “And now? Don’t you want to know her?”
“They don’t take kids away from their parents for no reason, Tory. I’m not sure I want to know that reason.”
“Okay, so they put you in foster care. What was that like?”
“At first I just wanted to go home. I couldn’t understand why I was living with a bunch of strangers.
The older I got, the angrier I became. I wasn’t an easy kid to raise. A few tried. Most just didn’t care. They just wanted the check.”
Her palm moved a few inches lower, then stopped. “What was the final straw?”
Con cleared his throat. “Huh?”
“I know you ended up living on the streets when you were only a teenager. I figure there must have been something to force you to do something so desperate.”
Immediately Con was thrust back in time. “Mr. Frank.”
“Mr. Frank?”
“He was the last one. Mr. Frank liked little boys. A lot.”
He felt her body go as stiff as a board. “Did he…?”
“No. I wasn’t little and helpless at that point. I’d been attending the city school and using their gym to gain some muscle mass.” He shrugged. “I was getting tired of being picked on, I guess. It helped that I’d hit a growth spurt that previous summer. Still, that didn’t keep Mr. Frank from playing with the other boy who lived with us. He was scrawny as hell and a year younger than me.”
“What happened?”
“I came home from school one day and found Mr. Frank in the bathroom with the kid. I went a little crazy. Anyway, they threw me in juvie right off the bat. To them I was just another punk kid causing trouble. No one expected that damn kid to speak up. He told the authorities everything.”
“Good for him. Did Mr. Frank go to prison then?”
Con shook his head. “He shot himself. The kid got snagged and sent to another foster home. Once they released me, I told myself never again. Hell, even I knew living on the street was bound to be better than that shit. It was right about then that I met up with Devon.”
“I’m sorry, Con. I’m sorry you didn’t have parents who loved you, cherished you.”
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Her voice sounded shaky and it pissed him off. “Don’t cry for me, little girl, or you really will get that spanking I warned you about earlier.”
She swatted his stomach. “You’re all talk.” Without giving her any warning, Con sat up and flipped Tory to her stomach. “Con!”
He ignored her struggles and instead straddled her legs. “I was a good boy and talked, then you go and get all sassy? That’s very naughty.” He swatted her upturned ass and Tory yelped.
“You did not just do that!”
“Oh, I definitely did.” He rubbed away the sting, then swatted her again two more times. She stopped struggling and started moaning. “God, you’re fucking hot,” Con gritted out as he cupped both ass cheeks in his palms. “Dev and I need to tattoo this ass of yours. His name on the left, mine on the right.”
She laughed. “That sounds painful.”
“Ah, but we’d kiss it better, baby.”
“Forget it. I’m not letting anyone tattoo my ass.” She wiggled and Con’s cock hardened. “Let me up,”
she pleaded. “I want to play too.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “I love it when you play.” He moved to the side and, before he could take his next breath, she was on her knees in front of him. Jesus, she tore him up. So pretty and sweet. One moment he was sharing his deepest, darkest secrets, the next she was teasing him into a horny stupor.
“My turn,” she whispered.
“I’m all yours.”
With her silky mass of tangled honey hair drifting down her back and those big blue eyes smiling up at him as she descended on his cock, Con forgot all about dirty homes and lousy foster parents. With the first tentative touch of her lips to the bulbous tip, Con lost all reason. Her little touches and kisses pulled a primitive response from him. He put his hands on either side of her head and directed her onto his pulsing shaft.
“Good girl. Love me just like that, Tory. Such a sweet tongue.”
Her eyelids drifted downward and Con felt the gentle sigh she let out all the way down the length of his dick. With one hand, Tory guided him inside the wet heat of her mouth, then farther still until he was nearly down her throat. She licked and teased, the tiny little movements of her tongue and lips drawing his balls up tight. Con clutched a fistful of her hair and pulled her mouth onto him tighter. She gagged and Con immediately pulled out. Tory whimpered and quickly took over, sucking him deep all over again. This time his balls were smashed against her chin.
“God damn,” he growled.
He watched as she threw herself into the task. Seeing her so anxious to please him and enjoying his taste had Con close to coming already. Tory pulled his rigid length all the way out and placed a gentle kiss
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to his tip before sweeping her tongue down the underside of his cock. She appeared to be in no hurry, as if she had all day to kneel in front of him and lick his dick. When she cupped his balls in her other hand and squeezed, every thought fled his mind. Only Tory existed. Tory and her talented mouth and fingers.
Con groaned her name as her movements turned rapid, her own excitement growing. Tory sucked, hard, once more. “Fuck!” He grabbed the back of her head and held her still while he shot over the edge, his come spurting into her mouth and down her throat.
Long seconds passed with Tory still on her knees, Con’s cock buried between her lips. He slid out of her and lifted her onto his lap. “I don’t deserve you,” he admitted, “but to hell if I’m giving you up. I’ll never give you up.”
She wiggled as if to get more comfortable, then said, “I guess it’s just a good thing no one’s asking you to then, huh?”
“Yeah, damn good thing.”
32
Tory hadn’t seen Devon since the previous night, when he’d left her alone with Con. Other than a few text messages and a chat on the phone, he’d kept his distance. She’d been worried all morning, wondering where he was, why he hadn’t shown up at breakfast. Tory heard someone clear their throat and she glanced up from the book she’d been trying—and failing—to read. As if she’d conjured him, Devon stood in the doorway to Con’s bedroom. He crossed his arms over his chest, silently watching her. Tory couldn’t judge his mood—and that worried her even more. Devon was usually pretty open.
She tossed the book on the little round table next to the chair, then sat up. “Hey.”
Devon gestured with a nod of his head toward the book. “Any good?”
She couldn’t even remember what she’d read, not that it was the author’s fault. “It’s not bad, I guess.
I’ve been a bit too distracted to read much of it. What are you up to today?”
“Just finished a few errands. Figured I’d check on you.”
Feeling unaccountably insecure, Tory asked, “Curious how my night with Con went?”
Devon smiled, but she noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Still, some of the tension seemed to leave the room, and she was only too glad. “You know me well, sugar.”
“I could lie and tell you it was horrible. That we played checkers and fell asleep early.”
He shrugged, but didn’t respond with a chuckle as she’d hoped he would. He stepped away from the doorway and moved farther into the room. When he reached the bed and sat, Tory’s tension came right back in full force. Was he regretting letting Con have time alone with her? Were things even more screwed up than ever?
His head tilted sideways as he watched her. “What are you thinking about?”
Tory bit her lip. “I’m worried about you. About us.”
Devon shook his head, his expression turning fierce. “You don’t have to worry, not about me. I’m always going to love you, Tory.”
She stood and went to him. He widened his legs so she could step between them. As he wrapped his hands around her hips and nudged her even closer, Tory’s body responded immediately. “I don’t want to lose you. Either of you. I don’t think I could handle that, Devon.”
He cupped her chin and took possession of her mouth. It was quick and hard and Tory wanted more.
So much more. When he lifted his head, she could see the arousal etched into his handsome face. “Con and I are working through this. You have no need to worry.”
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One thickly muscled arm came around her lower back, holding her still as he coaxed her lips apart and slipped inside. His taste, now so familiar, was better than cheesecake. He scoured the inside of her mouth and slid his palm lower to cup her bottom. Tory wound her arms around his neck and sank into his seductive touch.
Even after everything they’d done together, Devon still treated her with such gentle care. It made her want to both throttle him and kiss his sexy ass. She drifted her hands down his nape to his shoulders, then around to his pecs and ripped abs. He was so hard and muscular all over it nearly melted her every time she touched him. He was a hard, sleek god. Kind and patient and too good-looking for his own good.
Feeling wild and impetuous, Tory slid her palm over the bulge in his faded jeans, cupping his rigid length. She was way too happy to note he was as turned-on as she. As he continued to eat at her mouth, Tory played. Soon, his free hand was sliding up her calf. He caressed his way up her thigh and cupped her mound through her pink lounging pants. Tory lurched at the feel of him there. It was always so good, so delicious. By sheer will, she forced her mouth off his and moved her hand away from his crotch. “Stop, Devon, we need to talk about this.”
