CHAPTER TWELVE
“Sophie, I’m so sorry, but Dr. Blake is still running late. Can you stick around a little longer, or should I see if he can reschedule? I hate to pressure you, but he’s really hoping to make a decision tonight, and you’re the last interview … We’re pretty desperate.”
“No problem,” I said, smiling brightly at the flustered hygienist behind the counter. It was a big
f*cking problem. Noah would be out of school in an hour and I needed to be there to pick him up. But
I also needed to be able to buy food to feed him, too, and after the first three months this job came
with health care and sick leave … not to mention dental. I hadn’t had my teeth checked in four years.
“Are you sure?” asked the hygienist. Her name was Katy Jordan, and for the past hour I’d been
sitting in the waiting room, watching her juggle patients and the phone. Apparently their old
receptionist left without giving notice because of a family emergency, the temp was a no-show, and
the doctor’s assistant had gone home at ten that morning throwing up. A mother with two kids sat next
to me, obviously impatient. She’d been waiting nearly forty minutes for her appointment to start and
things were getting tense.
“I’ll make a quick phone call,” I told her.
“Sounds great,” she said. “Mrs. Summers? Are you ready?”
The woman beside me stood and coralled her children, herding them into the back. I stepped outside the office, which was in a low-lying, mixed-medical building. Kind of like a mini-mall for doctors, although classier, with fancy landscaping, cedar siding, and covered walkways.
I tried Elle first. No answer. I tried Kimber, too. Nothing. I called the school to see if he could go to
the after-school program for a day, only to learn he needed to be formally enrolled to participate,
something I’d have to do in person, at the district office.
That left me with the girls from the club or Ruger … and the girls from the club weren’t authorized to pick him up at the school. I could change that, of course. All I had to do was fill out some
paperwork at the school office.
In person.
That left Ruger.
I hadn’t had any communication with him since Sunday morning, aside from that one text asking if I was okay. I punched his number and waited. The phone rang long enough, I thought I’d get voice mail. Shit … Then he answered.
“Yeah?”
He didn’t sound particularly friendly or welcoming. More like the old Ruger, the one who looked through me like I was furniture. I suppose that’s what I wanted. It didn’t feel good.
“Um, hey,” I said. “I’m really sorry to do this, but I have a favor to ask. For Noah.”
“Yeah, you always have favors to ask,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “Yet I still answer the
damned phone when you call. Tryin’ to figure out why.”
“Are you working this afternoon?”
“Yup.”
“Any chance you could duck out long enough to pick up Noah at school? They keep moving back
my job interview. If I have to leave, I’m probably going to lose my shot here.”
He sighed.
“Yeah, I can move things around here,” he said. “How late do you think you’ll be?”
I paused, hating every second of this.
“I don’t know,” I finally said. “At this rate, it might be toward the end of the day. I need to meet with the doctor. He had some sort of emergency earlier and now they’re running behind. He’s just trying to fit me in between patients at this point.”
“Okay, I’ll take the rest of the day off, bring him back to my place.” “Thanks, Ruger.”
“It’s what I do,” he said, hanging up. I looked down at the phone, wondering how such a great guy could be such an a*shole slut at the same time.
Then I pasted my “Hire me, I’m friendly and competent!” smile back on and returned to the waiting
room.
By four thirty I still hadn’t done my interview. I’d pretty much given up on it, because there’d been a
second emergency. A high school girl knocked out half her front teeth during soccer practice. She’d
been hysterical when her coach rushed her in, bloody towels pressed to her face. The other patients
watched in fascinated horror as Dr. Blake himself came out to fetch her, bustling her back into the
treatment room.
Forty-five minutes later he reappeared.
“We’re going to have to reschedule everyone,” he announced to the room, looking exhausted. “I’m so sorry. I don’t have anyone here to help you right now. We’ll need to call you tomorrow.”
There were several frustrated sighs, but it wasn’t like people could complain, given the
circumstances. Dr. Blake’s eyes caught on me. He was a handsome man, although older than me. Probably in his late thirties or early forties?
“Are you one of my patients?” he asked. “I don’t recognize you.”
“I’m Sophie Williams,” I answered, straightening the scarf I’d tied around my neck. “I’m applying for the job as your receptionist. I’m guessing that interview isn’t going to happen today?”
The phone started ringing. Again. Then the door opened and a UPS deliveryman came in, followed
by a woman with three children.
“Hey, Dr. Blake!” she said. “We’re all ready for our checkups. How are you doing?”
“Great,” the doctor replied, offering her a pained look. “But we’ve had a little complication in the scheduling today. This is our new receptionist, Sophie. She’ll take care of you.”
Just like that, I had a job.
I felt proud of myself when I turned the car down Ruger’s drive that night. I’d jumped right in at work,
and while I didn’t know how to use the scheduling program, I still managed to look up the last two
patients for the afternoon and call them to cancel. I’d also handled the phone and even talked to a
potential new patient. I still needed to fill out paperwork, but Dr. Blake had been thrilled.
Just having an income source changed everything … The fact that it came with benefits, sick leave,
and vacation? Amazing.
I’d never had a job with paid vacation before.
Of course, that good feeling ebbed as I pulled up to the house. I hadn’t seen Ruger since I’d snuck
out of his room three days ago. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected from him. But I’d expected something. This silent acceptance of what I’d done, after what a huge deal he’d made about “owning” me? That
made me very nervous.
Making matters worse, he’d saved my ass this afternoon. Again. That meant I owed him even more
than before—just one more complication to our already twisted relationship.
I knocked on the door but nobody answered. I’d texted him around four thirty to give him an update
and he’d replied that they’d gone fishing, so I walked around the side of the house to his deck and
made myself comfortable at the table to wait. Well, as comfortable as I could, given our recent
interactions. I still had my key, but using it felt wrong under the circumstances. It was a little after six
already. I hoped he’d be back soon. Noah needed dinner and a bath before bed.
Ten minutes later I saw them walking up toward the house across the meadow from the pond, the
big man and little boy looking like something out of a country-living postcard. Ruger carried the
fishing gear and Noah bobbed along next to him like a puppy, holding a string of three tiny little fish.
“Mom!” he yelled, spotting me. He took off running toward the house and I met him at the bottom
of the steps. He jumped at me and then I was holding him as the fish slapped against my side in all
their slimy glory.
Ewww …
“Mom, I got three fish,” he told me, eyes wide with excitement. “Unce Ruger and I went to the pond
and we even got to dig up some worms and they were really, really squirmy!”
“Wow, that sounds like fun,” I told him, wondering if I’d be able to get the fish smell out of my
interview outfit. I couldn’t get upset about it, though—not with him so happy. Sometimes I forgot just
how much I loved my little boy, because seeing him again after a long day apart nearly made my heart
explode.
“I have good news, too,” I told him, smiling big. “What?”
“Mama got a job!” I said. “I’m going to be working at a dentist’s office right by your school. I’ll be able to drop you off every day, and then I’ll pick you up from the after-school program. No more
working at night! What do you think of that?”
“That’s f*ckin’ great, Mom!” he said, eyes bright. “Noah! Do we use that word?”
His face fell and he shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Uncle Ruger told me not to say it in front of you.”
Ruger set the fishing gear down under the deck and I turned to him.
“Noah says you told him not to curse in front of me?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Long story,” he replied. “And I’m not gonna get into it with you, so you can either let it go and enjoy some grilled fish with us for dinner or get all worked up. Result will be the same.”
I glared at him as Noah started wiggling to get down. I let him go and he held the string of fish up,
so proud he practically glowed.
“Uncle Ruger and I are going to cook dinner,” he declared. “We’re eating my fish. You can share!”
I glanced down at the three tiny little rainbow trout, smaller than could possibly be legal. Then I
looked up at Ruger, questioning.
He shrugged.
“I’ve got some salmon marinating in the fridge,” he said. “I’ll grill it with corn.”
“I brought Noah his favorite macaroni and cheese,” I replied. “Want me to cook that up while you get the grill going?”
“Sounds great.”
Dinner was a little awkward, but not as bad as you’d think, under the circumstances. I’d busied myself doing the macaroni and prepping the veggies while Ruger and Noah cleaned the fish. I wouldn’t have trusted Noah with a knife, but Ruger guided him carefully, explaining each step as he slit the fish
open, gutted them, and then rinsed them out. We wrapped everything in foil and threw it on the grill while Noah ran off to play and I set the table.
“So, you got the job today?” he asked, leaning back against the railing, a casual eye on the food. It
was almost like things hadn’t blown up between us over the weekend. Okay. I could work with that.
Denial had always been an excellent strategy for me.
“Yup,” I said. “It’s a good one. They do full benefits after three months and I’ll have a week of vacation starting next year. Thanks again for grabbing Noah.”
“No problem,” he said, shrugging. “It’s not like he’s hard to be around, if you can get him off the whole Skylanders thing. He ever get tired of that?”
“No,” I said. I saw a spark of humor in his eyes and I smiled back. At least we had Noah between us, I realized, no matter how f*cked up everything else was.
“You’ve done a hell of a good job with him,” Ruger said. “I want you to know that.”
“Thanks,” I said, startled. “What brought that on? I thought you were pissed at me?”
Shit, did I just say that out loud? Why did I have to go and stir things up, right when we were
starting to get along? He didn’t jump all over me, though. Instead he just gave me a slow smile, which was strangely worse.
“You’ll figure it out,” he said.
Crap.
He stepped over and rotated the corn while I studied him, suspicious. He stayed quiet, pulling out
his phone and checking his messages. Yup, definitely worse. At least when we fought I knew where we
stood.
On the bright side, Noah’s little trout were pretty tasty—all three bites. He turned down salmon to eat SpongeBob-shaped macaroni and cheese, no huge surprise there. Ruger startled me by bringing out a bottle of sparkling cider to celebrate my new job. Noah was ecstatic, drinking half the juice by
himself out of a real wine glass. I have to admit, I was touched. After dinner we cleared the dishes while Noah took off again, with a stern warning that we’d be heading home in ten minutes.
“You start work tomorrow?” Ruger asked as I loaded the dishwasher.
“Nine on the dot,” I replied, feeling a little rush of excitement. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe how
things worked out. Thanks again for helping today—you have no idea how much it meant to me.”
“I note you didn’t follow up on the job at The Line,” he said, cocking a brow. I frowned and looked
away.
“Um, I wasn’t really serious about that anyway,” I said. “I don’t want to work for the club.”
“Yeah, you made your feelings about the club clear,” he said. My mood deflated a little. “I’ve got something for you.”
“That’s a loaded statement,” I replied, my voice flat. He smirked, and I felt better. It wasn’t an angry smirk.
“Dirty mind, Soph?” he asked. “Seriously, this is important. Come on into the living room.”
I followed him, then sat in a chair. He sat on the couch, then patted the seat next to him. I shook my head. He held up a thick, business-sized envelope.
“You don’t get your surprise if you don’t come over here.” “What makes you think I’ll want it?”
“Oh, you’ll want it,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. I got up and walked over to him slowly. He grabbed my hand, pulling me down and across his lap. I gave a token struggle, but he handed me the envelope and curiosity took over, so I let him win.
Also, it felt kind of nice to sit on his lap. Yeah, I know. Stupid. But I’m only human.
I opened the envelope and saw cash. A very large wad of cash. My eyes opened wide and I pulled it out, shocked. I didn’t count it, but it seemed to be all hundred-dollar bills … there had to be three or four thousand dollars in here.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, looking at him. He gave me a grim smile. “Child support.”
“Holy shit!” I gasped. “How did you get this out of Zach?”
“It’s from Mom’s estate,” Ruger said. “I paid him out and then he paid you out. In exchange, he
gets to keep living. Everybody wins.”
I turned to look at him, shocked.
“Are you serious?” I asked. Our faces were about two inches apart, and his eyes flicked to my lips. I licked them nervously and felt something stir under my butt. His arms came around my waist, holding me loosely, and my nipples hardened.
Damn it.
“Pretty hard to get more serious,” he told me. “Old friend tracked down Zach for me in North
Dakota and I rode over there Sunday afternoon, got back early this morning. We had words. Then we went to the bank. I didn’t give him the promise to let him live in writing—that’s just a little side
incentive. I’ll revoke it if he ever gets within ten miles of you or Noah again. Mom would’ve wanted this anyway. She never stopped loving him, but she sure as shit stopped trusting him.”
I swallowed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the details … But I couldn’t feel sorry for Zach. He’d
earned everything he got and then some.
“How much money is in here?” I asked, flipping through the wad of cash.
“Not all of it,” he said. “That’s just last year’s. The rest is in transit. Dealing with that much cash gets complicated. Needs to be cleaned up a bit, and then we’ll find a way to get it to you that won’t leave an ugly trail. The trade-off is, we agreed on your current monthly rate, and it’s not like you can take him to court to ask for more if he gets a great job or something.”
“I couldn’t even get him to pay what he owed already,” I said. “Health and Welfare won’t do shit, either. I don’t think upward adjustments were on the table.”
“Sort of what I figured,” he replied. “So I’m real glad you got a job, but you won’t be living paycheck to paycheck anymore.”
“That’s amazing,” I whispered, looking back down at the envelope. “I have to ask … Is it going to come back on me and Noah? Am I going to get arrested?”
“You’re good,” he said. “That’s not enough cash to catch any IRS attention, and Horse is working
on getting the rest of it to you all safe and legal. He’s a damned good accountant, and he’ll work with
our lawyer. F*ckin’ shark. If Zach ever tries to cause trouble about it, you call me and I’ll make him
go away.”
His arms tightened around me, hinting at his strength, and I shivered.
“This is another case of you doing my dirty work for me, isn’t it?” I asked softly.
“It’s Noah’s money,” Ruger said, his face serious. “This isn’t about you, Sophie. It’s about Zach
taking care of his son—and it’s not like it even came out of his pocket. That insurance settlement
came out of nowhere. Noah has a right to this money, and my mom would shit if she knew Zach was starving you guys out. I fixed the problem. Don’t think about it anymore, just use the money to take
care of our boy, okay?”
I nodded my head, leaning my head against his chest. He kissed the top of my head and rubbed up and down my back.
“So Horse is an accountant?” I asked after a minute. “I find that hard to picture.” “I’d just as soon you not picture Horse at all,” he muttered, and I smiled.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I’d never seen that much money in my life. Hell, at this rate we’d have
the fancy macaroni and cheese all the time! And the rest? If I saved it, I’d be able to pay for Noah’s
college.
My kid would go to college. I felt tears well up in my eyes, which bugged me because I hated
crying.
“If you really want to thank me, give me a blow job,” Ruger said, his voice light. I straightened up and smacked his shoulder, and he burst out laughing.
“Why do you have to say things like that?”
“You were getting all soft and sweet,” he said. “And when you get like that I really want to f*ck
you. But Noah’s right outside and this is shit timing. Riling you up takes care of that soft and sweet
crap.”
“You’re impossible,” I told him, trying to get up. He held me down, though, and riling me up
clearly wasn’t making him less interested in sex. The evidence under my ass was getting harder by the
second.
“How about this,” he said. “One kiss. Give me one kiss and we’ll call it even.” “No,” I told him. “You’re up to something. You can’t let me win, can you?” Ruger grinned at me.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I’m up to something. And I’m never going to let you win, so you might as well give up now.”
With that his lips came down over mine in another of those kisses that destroyed my ability to
think. He explored my mouth softly and I explored right back, wishing like hell that Noah was with a babysitter. Heroin. The man was pure heroin. Heroin kills people, my brain screamed. My body
flipped off my brain and kept kissing Ruger. Finally he let my lips go and pulled back, smiling and
looking smug as hell.
“Like I said, might as well give up, Soph,” he said. “Sooner or later I’m gonna win this little game
of ours.”
I sat up slowly, shaking my head. How did he do that to me? I wanted him so bad I couldn’t see
straight, and he turned it off, just like that. Noah ran up across the deck and looked at us through the
window, pressing his mouth wide open against it and making a blowfish face. Then he started laughing wildly and ran off again.
Okay. That turned it off.
“You want to keep your own place for a while,” Ruger said, touching my cheek softly. “I’ll try to understand that. It’s all happening fast and that’s scary. But you’re still mine, Soph. Don’t think for one minute I’ve forgotten that or changed my mind.”
“You planning to keep your dick in your pants at the club?” I asked bluntly.
“I’m not planning not to keep it in my pants,” he said slowly. “But I’ve told you—I’m not a onewoman man. I won’t lie to you or make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”
“And there we have it,” I replied, shaking my head. “F*ck off, Ruger. I’m going home.”
RUGER: What time do you get off work?
ME: 5. Why
RUGER: Want to come over and check your place out for security ME: No
RUGER: You haven’t figured this out yet? I’m going to do it. Rather do it when it’s convenient for you
but happens either way. What time? I’ll bring pizza
ME: We get home around 6. Noah likes his pizza plain RUGER: Plain? Like nothing?????
ME: Plain. Be happy. Used to be he wouldnt let them put sauce on it RUGER: Plain it is. See you at 6
ME: He’s invading my space
KIMBER:?????
ME: Ruger. He’s invadng my space. Coming over tonight to check out security on new place. Bribing
us with pizza
KIMBER: Control freak much? What’s security
ME: He likes my apartments to have alarms. Checks for bad windows and locks. Deadbolts.That kind
of thing
KIMBER: thats sweet tho! He wants u safe
ME: He’s the biggest danger
KIMBER: Be happy. U have a hot guy coming over and he’s bringing dinner. Women have killed for
less
ME: Whose side you on?
KIMBER: Mine. Haven’t u figured this out yet?
ME: Bitch
KIMBER: Ho
ME: At least I don’t drive a minivan
KIMBER: See if I make YOU margaritas again! LOW BLOW!!!!!! ME: <3
“You don’t have to spend a lot of money to keep a place safe,” Ruger told Noah, his voice serious.
They crouched together as Ruger installed a new deadbolt on our exterior door. We had two—one
leading outside and the other leading into the rest of the barn, which was pretty cool in its own right.
Among other things, it had a loft complete with mounds of old hay for Noah to jump in. Even better,
there were stairs leading up to it and a railing, safety features I assumed they put in for Elle’s cousin.
“If you have empty pop cans, you can make an alarm by stacking them in front of your door,” Ruger
said. “The goal is to make noise, so that you know if someone tries to come in. Most bad guys will run
away if there’s noise. That’s why I put those little alarms on the windows. If you ever see a bad guy,
don’t be quiet. Start screaming. And don’t yell help—yell ‘Call the cops!’ as loud as you can, okay?”
“You’re going to scare him,” I said from the couch, debating whether I should eat the last slice of pizza. Between Ruger and Noah, it’d disappeared pretty fast.
“You scared, Noah?” Ruger asked.
“Nope,” Noah said. “Ruger’s smart. He’s teaching me all kinds of safety stuff. He says you need to stop texting on your phone when you walk places, Mom, and pay attention to the people around you. He also says there’s this little stick you need to start carrying around. It’s called a cuburtron.”
“Kubaton,” Ruger corrected, looking over at me. “It’s a little baton for your keychain. Very effective, very safe. You should come take the self-defense class at the shop, Sophie.”
“I don’t need a self-defense class,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I have my own personal stalker to
protect me already. It’s almost Noah’s bedtime—you planning to go home at some point?”
“After I finish up,” he said. “Bath time, kiddo.”
Noah did the obligatory whining and begging to stay up, but his heart wasn’t in it. Bath went fast, with Ruger finishing the lock just as Noah got out.
“Will you do my story tonight?” he asked Ruger.
“Sure thing, little man,” Ruger said. “What are we reading?”
“Magic Tree House,” Noah replied. “I can read it by myself, but I like it when you do it.”
I picked up the small living room as Ruger read to Noah. We had a futon for a couch, which was
where I slept. Normally I’d start setting it up by now, but I didn’t want to give Ruger ideas. After half an hour, he came back out, closing Noah’s door behind him softly.
“Kid’s out,” he said. “Fell asleep halfway through the chapter. I think he’s doin’ great, but he’s been through a lot lately.”
“Thanks for your help,” I said awkwardly.
“Here’re your new keys,” he said, tossing them toward me. “I replaced all the locks, so you’ll need to give a set to Elle. Her old ones won’t work.”
“Um, that’s great,” I said.
“Can I have Noah for a while on Friday afternoon?” he asked. “I’m headin’ out on a run this weekend. Might not be back for four or five days.”
“Sure,” I said. “I need him by seven, though.”
“Sounds good,” he said. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall casually. “So how long are we gonna do this?”
“Do what?”
He raised a hand and gestured around the little apartment.
“Have you and Noah live here when you could be over at my house.”
“This is nice,” I protested. “It’s clean, it’s safe, and I don’t need to worry about the landlord
attacking me in the night. It’s not happening between us, Ruger. Not. Happening.”
He didn’t respond, and I watched him warily. He was up to something … I could smell it. Suddenly he pushed off from the wall and walked over, catching me around the waist. Then he threw me over his shoulder, just like he’d done that weekend.
“No!” I yelled. “You don’t get to haul me off whenever you don’t get your way!” He smacked my ass.
“Shut up,” he said. “You’ll wake up Noah. If he comes out here, he’ll see you like this, and then you can figure out how to explain it to him. If he asks me, I’ll tell him the truth. Mommy’s been a bad girl and she needs a spanking.”
“You a*shole,” I hissed, kicking and smacking his back as hard as I could. Maybe I should take one of those kube-thingie classes. I could’ve shoved it up his big, dumb ass as he carried me out of the apartment and into the barn.
Ruger ignored my struggles, which pissed me off even more.
He carried me through the barn and up the stairs to the hayloft. I sensed a pattern. At least there
wasn’t a bathroom up here, so no cold water spray. Small comfort. He dropped me down on a pile of
straw so hard I lost my breath, looming tall as he unbuckled his belt and ripped it through the loops on his jeans. Then he folded it between his hands and snapped it. I glared at him, scuttling backward
across the hay like a crab.
“I need to tie you up again?” he asked.
“We aren’t doing this,” I declared, even though my brain had already started the familiar shutdown his presence seemed to cause. God, I loved how he smelled. Not to mention the feel of his cock deep down inside … those little metal knobs made a hell of a difference. “Go to hell, Ruger.”
“F*ck no. We are definitely doing this,” he said. “Maybe I can f*ck some sense into you. Words obviously don’t work.”
With that he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. I glared at him as he opened his fly and pulled off his jeans without another word. He knelt forward in the hay and caught my hands, pinning them on either side of my head. His head lowered as he scented me, kissing the fading bruises on my neck, nibbling and sucking like he’d done at the party.
Damned distracting. Shit, that felt good.
“They’re fading,” he said, pulling away just enough to meet my eyes. I didn’t like his expression, not at all. “Maybe I’ll give you some new ones. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a raging a*shole.”
Ruger laughed.
“Yeah, well I think you’re a bitch, but my cock likes you, so we’ll figure something out.”
He caught my mouth again, but this time the kiss wasn’t hard and brutal. Nope, he changed tactics,
because now his lips whispered over mine, nipping and sucking, drawing them apart gently as I tried
to ignore him. Then he tugged my hands together over my head, freeing a hand to slide down between
us. His fingers drifted across my stomach before reaching the top of the yoga pants I’d put on when I
got home.
He starting pulling them down, and I realized this was it.
Ruger was about to win again, because Ruger always won, and I always let him because my body
wanted him more than my brain hated him. I raised my hips, making it easier for him to take off my
pants, which was just another nail in my f*cking coffin. Then his fingers slid into me and I shuddered.
The damage was done already anyway, I justified. What difference would it really make? When he finally stopped kissing me, we stared at each other, panting. His fingers stroked down below, grazing my *, and I twisted, wanting more.
“Jesus, you piss me off,” he murmured. “Good thing your cunt’s so f*cking hot.” “Don’t call it that.”
His lip twitched.
“Good thing your vagina’s so gosh-darned hot,” he whispered. “Because I really, really want to stick my penis in it and have repeated sexual intercourse, bringing us to a mutually satisfactory culmination of our desires. How’s that sound?”
“Almost dirtier,” I said, mouth quirking. F*cking ridiculous. All of it. I wanted to kill him and
screw him and scream at him, so now he made jokes? I almost laughed, but his fingers rubbed right up against my G-spot while his thumb played with my *. I couldn’t figure out how he made me so wet, so fast, every single time.
“Oh, it’s dirtier,” he told me, nuzzling me again, tugging on my ear with his teeth. “If I let go of your hands, are you gonna try to get away?”
I considered the question seriously.
“No,” I admitted. “But this is a one-time deal. We’re never having sex again after this time.”
Ruger gave me that lazy panther smile of his and didn’t answer. He did let me go, though, and I
reached up, pushing him over and back down into the hay. Then I straddled him. I had one shot at this, I realized. One last chance to play with Ruger’s body. What should I do with it?
I went for his nipple ring, sucking it deep into my mouth as he groaned, hands twisting into my hair.
“That’s good, Soph,” he whispered. “But could you grab my dick while you’re at it? All I can think
about, it’s f*ckin’ killing me.”
I reached down and found him, hard steel bound in silk. I trailed my fingers over the head of his cock, catching the barbell, brushing back and forth.
“Holy f*ck,” he groaned. “Too much, babe. Just the shaft for now, okay?”
His hand covered mine, showing me exactly how he wanted it—slow and deep, with a bit of a twist that should’ve been painful. I remembered he liked it rough so I didn’t hold back, and soon his hips
arched under me.
That’s when I gave his nipple a final flick and started working my mouth down his stomach. Ruger
wasn’t like some guy in a magazine ad. He had a model’s perfect abs, but he also had just enough hair
to remind me I was dealing with a real man, not some pre-fabbed fantasy of clean, waxed sexuality. I
rubbed my chin against the dip of his navel, savoring the power I held over him before going lower.
Some girls love giving head.
I’ve never been one of them, so I didn’t have a lot of experience to work with. What I did have was a hell of an imagination, and I’d been thinking about taking his cock into my mouth since that first night on his deck. I remembered sitting there, seeing him outlined in front of me through the thin flannel of his lounge pants, wanting to touch him more than anything.
Now I could.
Ruger tilted his head up, one arm folded back and under his neck, watching with hooded eyes as I
rubbed the head gently against my cheek, considering my next move. I reached out my tongue and
flicked the notch at the bottom of his glans. Then I swirled it around the little metal knob.
Ruger’s breath hissed and I felt a surge of pure, feminine power.
I licked it again, playing with his piercing before sucking him in hard. The metal post was weird,
but it wasn’t like I planned to deep-throat him, so it didn’t matter. I started bobbing my head up,
working him with my hand at the same time. His fingers burrowed deep into my hair, guiding me.
“You’re killing me, Soph,” he muttered, groaning. “Stop. I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”
I liked that idea. For once it would be nice to see Jesse “Ruger” Gray lose control. But just when I’d decided to make it happen, his fingers tightened in my hair, dragging my mouth away from his cock.
“Ride me,” he ordered.
Oh, I could work with that …
I climbed over him, reaching down to guide him into my body. Even though I was probably wetter than I’d ever been in my life, taking his full length went slowly. From this angle I felt every inch of him, stretching me so wide it almost hurt. I stopped several times to let myself adjust, his eyes boring into me the whole while. When I finally had all of him I stilled, catching my breath.
Ruger still watched me, his face full of need and intensity and desire. He leaned up on one elbow,
the flex of his stomach muscles almost painful against my oversensitized *. He reached out and
caught a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear, and then cupped my cheek, his face almost
tender.
I closed my eyes.
Angry Ruger? Fine. Horny Ruger? I’d gotten used to that, too. But Ruger as a gentle lover? I didn’t have room for that in my head, not if I wanted to survive and move forward with my life. I started rocking back and forth on him, the movement ever-so-slight but almost painfully pleasurable. His hand dropped from my face to my hip, urging me to go faster, so I did.
It didn’t take long to bring him back to the edge. At some point I leaned forward on his chest for
leverage, digging my nails into his pecs, which seemed to turn him on even more. Ruger liked a touch of pain, I decided, so I did my best to crush him with my inner muscles.
I’m generous that way.
I was close to coming myself when he lost patience, rolling me over and taking control again. He
grabbed my legs, shoving them up and over his shoulders. Then he pounded me hard until I screamed out my orgasm.
Ruger followed right behind, and when he came, he called out my name.
I fell asleep with him wrapped around me, both of us on our sides, one of his hands resting lightly
against my stomach. He’d gone downstairs and grabbed a blanket, covering the hay and creating a nest
for us.
At some point I woke to find Ruger’s hand between my legs, slowly stroking me as I drifted. He rolled me to my stomach, spread my legs, and slid into my body gently and carefully. I sighed, the delicious pressure building and exploding with a subtlety I’d never experienced before.
Then he wrapped himself around me again and I drifted back into sleep. I woke up when my cell rang at six the next morning, finding myself alone on my futon, surrounded by his smell. I didn’t recognize the name and the caller hung up. F*cking wrong number.
I rolled to my side and saw the empty pizza box, still sitting on the coffee table.
Damn. What the hell was I supposed to do with a situation like this? Insane. All of it.