“It’s not that, either.” Gazing at his torso, the push of tenderness, sorrow, and desire to make it better welled up in her.
She approached again. This time, he didn’t retreat as she reached out and ran a finger lightly over one of the scars. She felt a heavy tremor roll through him and knew it was costing him a lot to be inspected this way. That wariness was too much for her to respond to with mere words. Easier to just lean in and press her mouth to the scar at the top of his rib cage. His skin was warm, no, hot to the touch beneath her lips.
He took her by the shoulders, lifting her away from his body. Then a hand came up, forcing her chin to rise so that he could look her full in the face. “I don’t need pity.”
“You don’t have it.”
“Are you sure?”
Jori smiled and reached for his belt with both hands. “Aren’t you?”
Something like humor flickered in his sludge-gold gaze. “All right then.”
When she surged in against him, all heat and womanly curves and hunger, and eager moving hands, Law gave up any scruples about what they were doing.
She unbuckled him and then slid down his zipper. That little zipping sound was the most erotic thing he’d heard in months. No, it was the yummy sound she expelled into his open mouth when she reached in and released his cock.
Well, hell. He wasn’t going to be able to be gentlemanly about their first time after all.
He grabbed her arms, lifting them back against the wall and pushing her body flat with the power of his. “I’d love to do you right here but it’s not practical for me.”
She smiled at him, laying her arms about his neck. “I do have a bed.”
He grinned.
They entered the bedroom to be greeted by a hissing and spitting ball of black, white, and orange fur dancing sideways across the middle of the bed.
Until that moment, Jori had completely forgotten about the fact that Samantha was with them. And that her kitten, Argyle, wouldn’t necessarily be happy about that fact.
Argyle’s tail stood straight up and bristling, her kitten body like a McDonald’s arch, every whisker stiff with rage at the intruder who came and rested her doggy head on the coverlet.
Law looked back at Jori. “Friend of yours?”
“Yes.” Jori scooped Argyle off the bed. She cuddled the kitten in the curve of her arm as she stroked her. “Now, Argyle, you’ve seen a dog before.” She walked slowly over to Sam and bent down. “Sam, this is Argyle. Argyle, this is Samantha.”
The kitten shrank in her arms for a second then poked her head out and batted at the dog’s nose with a paw. Jori noticed she hadn’t used her claws.
Samantha calmly accepted the feline inspection. Just added a whiff of kitten to her collection of identification smells of things in the world.
“That’s right. Sam is a friend.” Jori patted Samantha. “You two play nice.”
“Somewhere else.” Jori looked up to see Law pointing toward the doorway. “All nonessential personnel out. Now.”
Offended, Argyle let out a loud mee-now a whole octave higher than usual before leaping from Jori’s arms and disappearing through the doorway.
Sam glanced at Law, who gave her the go out sign. With what Jori would swear was a doggy sigh of exasperation, the goldendoodle exited the bedroom at a more cautious pace.
Law quickly closed the door behind the pair. “Now, where were we?”
Jori pointed to the bed. “Almost there.” Her voice sounded calm but she was looking at his erection with eyes wide. His pants were splayed open, and his thick rigid cock was arching out of the opening. And she had very hungry eyes. Maybe they were a little too bright?
“How long has it been for you?”
Embarrassed, she glanced up at the water spot on the ceiling of her cheap apartment. “Four years.”
“Four—?” She was practically a virgin again after all this time.
Unless she’d gotten freaky inside.
“You still prefer dick to pussy?”
Shocked by his crudeness, Jori jerked her gaze back to him. Right, why should he be any different? All ex-cons must be lesbians. It was one of the clichés everyone wanted to believe about incarcerated women. Her armor of emotional distance clanked into place. “What’s the matter? Worried I might disappoint you?”
“Just the opposite.”
Jori studied his expression to see if he was baiting her. He looked completely serious. And a little uncomfortable. “If you’ve changed your—”
He was on her in a flash, a wall of warm smooth skin covering muscle and bad intentions. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything before now. I want to fuck you, bad. Do you still want to fuck me?”
A flush warmed her neck at his language. Like him, it was direct and to the point. No flowers. No easing into the moment. Just the bald honesty of his erection pressing into her belly.
“Say something, Jori.” The demand, whispered into her ear, made her belly quiver and her sex tighten in delicious anticipation.