Worcester Nights - The Boxed Set (6 page)

He groaned, revved the engine, and then we were pulling out into the street. The bike was like butter beneath his guidance, smooth, easy, almost floating along its path. I felt as if I were in another world. I blinked in surprise when my olive-green three-decker appeared out of nowhere.

I didn’t want to go in.

He looked back at me, his eyes swirling with a mix of emotions. Desire seemed intertwined with the tightest reins of restraint.

“Kay, I am warning you. If we start down this path –”

Every cell in my body craved him. My throat nearly closed up.

“You are right for me. You are the one man, the only man in the world, who has ever been this right for me.”

He groaned with desire, then looked at the three-decker. “Do you have a leather jacket?”

I nodded, climbed off the bike, and ran inside, not even taking off my helmet. I grabbed the jacket from the closet, then ran back outside. I didn’t want to give him the chance of changing his mind, of riding away and leaving me alone on this dusty street.

I zipped it up as I climbed back on behind him, wrapping myself around him again. I tapped him on his thigh, putting my head near his ear.

A playful urge tugged at me, and I called out, “I feel the need – the need for speed!”

A rev of the engine, and we were off.

He took us away from the bar, north, and I didn’t care where we were going, just that we were together. The bike’s vibration sent waves of pleasure coursing through me; his body before me was sturdy, strong, and all I could ever want. The night was glorious, the sky full of twinkling stars against a black velvet backdrop. He took us up onto 290, the elevated highway swirling amongst the buildings of Worcester, then over Lake Quinsigamond.

We moved beyond the city limits, into suburbs, then forests, and then we turned north onto 495. We passed a scattering of cars and trucks – but to me it was as if we were alone, two travelers in a large, empty world. Nothing else existed besides us two.

The bike’s rumble eased, and we curled off an exit ramp down into Bolton. The town was one of apple orchards and dairy farms. My heart began beating more quickly. Just what did he have in mind?

He guided the bike off the main street, up narrow, winding roads until he reached the opening to an apple orchard. There were no buildings in sight. He steered the bike onto a dirt path, and we climbed up through rows of trees for perhaps two miles. At last we reached the crest, and he drew to a stop, leaving the engine idling.

The vista was stunning. The autumn hillside sprawled out beneath the moonlight, and in the distance I thought I could see the twinkling lights of Worcester. It was magical.

He turned in place, put his hands under my arms, and lifted me, his shoulders rippling with the effort. I curled my leg as he brought me around, settling me down to face him on the gas tank, my legs astride his. He reached forward to undo my helmet clasp, then hung it on one of the handlebars. He undid his own, placing it on the other side.

The bike rumbled beneath us, his thighs were warm beneath mine, and I wanted him with every beat of my heart.

Our lips slammed together with mutual need, our mouths open, his tongue tantalizing me, driving my already hot flames into searing heat. His hands were at my chest, pulling the zipper of my jacket and stripping it off me with ruthless efficiency. Then he was pulling my top over my head, tossing it on the ground next to my jacket, and pressing kisses all down my neck, my chest, to the curve of my breasts where they were exposed from the bra.

His voice was hoarse. “These last hours have been torture.”

I laced my fingers in his hair, pressing his lips against my breast, and his hands undid the bra. I momentarily released my hold to shrug it off, then gasped as his lips seared my nipple. My hands came up around his back, pulling him in, as his teeth teased at first one nipple, then the second. The night air was brisk, and my entire body shone with desire.

He groaned, reaching forward to switch the engine off, then he wrapped his hands beneath my rear and stepped over the bike, carrying me with him. He strode the few steps to a nearby apple tree, pressing me up against its bark. His mouth found mine again, and my breasts flattened against his chest as he drove in against me, his need for me evident against my stomach.

He dropped to one knee in front of me, undoing my jeans, sliding them down my legs to my feet. He pulled off one boot, then the second, then my socks. My toes relished the feel of the soft ground beneath my bare feet. Then he was pulling my jeans fully off.

He looked up at me and groaned in desire. He moved his head forward to start kissing along my thigh, running his tongue along the edges of my panties. I leant back against the trunk, nearly fainting with desire, the rough bark tantalizing my skin.

He hooked a finger around each side of my panties, then slowly, languorously, he pulled them down until my sex was revealed. He let them drop to the ground. I stepped out of them, and he looked up at me, his breath going out of him. The moonlight shone, silver, on my naked body, and my nipples stood hard, ready, eager for him. The only thing I wore was my Saint Michael’s medallion glistening at my breast.

I reached for him, my throat all but closed up with passion. “Oh, Sean.”

His eyes swirled with emotion, and then his lips moved to my sex. The impact of his tongue rolled my head back against the trunk, and my hands came down to twine in his hair. His fingers kneaded my ass, squeezing, pinching, as his tongue danced against my hard clit. I could feel my juices easing down my leg as his tongue picked up speed, as his hands squeezed and urged me on.

I held in my moans with every ounce of energy I had, but one finally escaped me, shuddering my body.

He looked up at that, his lips glistening. His eyes shone in the moonlight. “I want to hear you.”

I flushed. In all the years I’d been with Derek, I had trained myself to be silent. Not that there were many times that I reached orgasm, with his self-centered approach to sex. But both of our apartments had thin walls, and he hadn’t wanted anybody else to hear any noise I made.

I’d never had sex without muffling my reactions.

He pinched my ass, and I groaned at the sensation, craving more. His eyes held mine.

“The nearest house is miles away. There’s nobody to hear you. I want you set free.”

He brought one hand around, maintaining his gaze, then slid two fingers up inside me.

The pleasure of it nearly sent me over the edge. I leant back and a low, guttural groan coursed from me.

“That’s my Kay,” he murmured. “Sing for me.”

He pressed his fingers in deeper, and my groan was lower, richer. He withdrew his fingers and brought them to my lips. “Taste yourself. Taste how beautiful you are.”

I sucked in his fingers, swirling my tongue around them, and he groaned in response, pushing his head back into my sex. His tongue moved into action, and my body danced with his motions, arcing, pulsing, with his fingers in my mouth, his hand on my ass, his tongue delving and swirling, sucking and pulsing.

Suddenly I could feel the crest build and I dug my fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. He brought both hands back to support me from my ass, pulling me in hard, driving his tongue deep inside me. The waves rose, rose, carrying me with them, and then they were crashing, exploding like fireworks, and my groans shook through my body, filling my soul, tremoring every corner of my being.

My knees wobbled, and Sean’s hands moved under my arms, lowering me down to kneel before him.

I put my hands on either side of his face, my breathing slowing from its breathless heights. I drew his mouth into mine for a long, heartfelt kiss. Time drifted away.

When I finally drew back, I stared at him in amazement.

“I had no idea,” I breathed. “No idea at all.”

He ran a hand through my hair, his gaze caught on mine. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured. “You deserve so much.”

I put my hands on his hips and pulled left. He drew to his feet at my urging, and in a moment I had him placed against the same apple tree that had recently supported me. I stayed kneeling before him, and began undoing his belt buckle.

His cock throbbed hard against his jeans, and he groaned. “Oh, Kay.”

The buckle came free, and I undid the button, then the zipper. I gave a hard tug, and the jeans slid down to his ankles. His black underwear was pressed out by the pressure of his cock. I slid a hand against the fabric, against the hard member beneath it, and the breath left him.

Slowly, gently, I slid the underwear down his body, admiring his form. The man was in incredible shape – and his cock matched him in every way. I moved my mouth to the top of it, carefully, gently sliding my mouth just over the head, letting my tongue swirl the pre-cum around its top.

Sean shuddered, bringing his hands down into my hair, holding my head in place.

I brought my hands around to grip his firm ass, using only my mouth to slide down deeper, ever deeper, along his shaft. His hips rocked with my motions, and I ran my nails along his skin, smiling as he arched in response, as his breathing grew hoarser, more guttural. He was already close, so close.

I slowed down and he groaned with desire, his fist in my hair tightening, but I resisted his motions. I tantalized him, licking him, pressing my lips in a ring, letting the thick head of the knob pop in and out of that pressure.

His voice was ragged. “Jesus Christ, Please, Kay –”

I dug in my fingers, slammed my mouth against him, and took him fully into my throat. He gasped with pleasure, let out a long groan, and then he was coming, hot and salty, deep into my throat. The pulses went on for long moments, his breath coming in shuddering gasps.

And then, at long last, the pulses slowed, eased, and I sucked gently on him, taking down the lingering remnants of his desire.

He pulled me up to my feet, drew me against his chest, and I wrapped my arms within the leather jacket he was still wearing. He brought his arms around me, pressed his head down against mine, and we were one.

Chapter 6

I
hesitated for a moment before climbing out of the cab. I felt so different, so alive, and I wondered if every person in the bar would see it in me. I didn’t care. Let them laugh, let them tease me as much as they wanted. Nothing could spoil my mood. Not as long as Sean was there waiting for me.

I stepped to the door, pressed it open – and frowned.

It was hard to take in. For the month I’d worked here the room had always been near-empty. But now it was packed with men, standing room only, talking in tones that seemed oddly out of place. It was not the lively banter of a Friday night out. It was rich with a tense energy, of anticipation and shadowed darkness.

It came to me. It was the way my father and his friends had talked when a dangerous assignment was looming on the horizon. Like they knew the risks – and they were looking forward to it.

I pushed my way through the crowd to the bar, joining Mrs. O’Malley there. She nodded at me. “Need three more pints of Guinness and two Harps,” she stated without preamble. I grabbed up the glasses as she continued pouring out whiskies.

I tried to glance around for Sean as I filled and set out the drinks, but in the throngs it was hard to see individual faces. My heart pounded against my chest. Clearly they were gearing up for action against the Cubans, and they would want Sean in the thick of it.

Sean could get hurt – or worse.

There was a hand on my shoulder, I turned, and Sean was there. A wealth of emotions swirled in his eyes, and I folded in against him, wrapping myself into his chest. His arms came up around me, holding me tight.

All of a sudden it was that momentous morning again, the last time I had seen my father alive. I had hugged him this very way, sensing something in his tension, something hovering in the air. I had begged him not to go. He had kissed me on the forehead, said he loved me, and then he had gone.

He had gone.

My throat closed up on me, and the urge to beg Sean to stay nearly overwhelmed me. I clung to him as if I were on a life raft in the middle of a raging storm.

At last he gently pushed me back, looking down at me. His gaze held steady promise. “I’ll be all right.”

“You can’t know that,” I moaned.

He gave a wry smile, brushing one hand along my cheek. “You’re my lucky charm.”

My hand went to my medallion.

I brought both hands behind my neck, undoing the latch. The latch that had not been released since that day of my father’s funeral.

I held it in my hands for a long moment, then looked up to Sean. “This was my father’s. I want you to wear it.”

His eyes stilled, and he looked at me in stunned silence. At last he found his voice.

“Kay, are you sure?”

I nodded, holding out my hands.

He dropped to one knee before me, and I brought the chain around his neck, bringing my head next to his to do the clasp. I lay my hands against his neck for a long moment, feeling the strength in his shoulders. Then I slid my hand up to twine in his hair, and he bowed his head.