Текст книги "First Ink"

Автор книги: Laura Wright

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Rush

She’s fucking unraveled me again. Screwed with my head again. Made me not only want her ass more than I’ve ever wanted it, but made me believe that maybe—shit, just maybe—there’s a possibility for…something. Clearly, I’m mentally fucked, because instead of putting her on the back of my bike and dropping her wherever she and her friend are hanging their hats, I put her on the back of my bike and set a course for home.

She’s wearing my helmet, and her arms are wrapped so tightly around my torso I sort of can’t breathe. But I don’t give a shit. The moon is full, stars are blinking hard and bright, we’re alone on the desert road, and I just can’t get there fast enough. Get my mouth on hers fast enough. Get my tongue back inside her fast enough. It’s a real fatal flaw with me.

My mom knew it. Knew I had no business slowing down. She named me Rush because of how I was born. I was her first baby, and I guess they say that first babies take forever. Not me. Twenty minutes from home to hospital to in her arms. And from that day on, it’s how I’ve lived my life.

As I take a tight curve, Addison squeals behind me and clings to my back like a terrified monkey. I could slow down, if I was a nice guy. Or shit, I could pull over to the side of the road, let her breathe for a second. But that might bring about some trouble. I’d probably be inclined to turn around and have her straddle me, wrap her legs around me as I drop her zipper again. And mine. Shit, we don’t need to get all the way naked. Not for me to slip inside. I know how wet she gets. I can still taste it.

I narrow my eyes and kick the chopper into high gear. I must be a fucking lunatic to be doing this. Or a masochist. Or shit, maybe both. But it’s been a dream of mine to have her at my place. Have her see it, walk around inside it. Without ever knowing that she was who I thought about when I designed it.

I pull off the main road onto a dirt one that stretches up a ways and meets with my actual driveway. I bought this piece of land on the second anniversary of Wicked Ink. We’d been doing really well, and I’d been dying for something all my own, deep in the desert. It took a good year to build the contemporary stone, metal and glass structure, but it was worth the wait.

I kill the engine under the steel carport, then wait for Addison to slip off before following her. She already has my helmet off by the time I face her, and it’s like holding back a bull when I see her bright eyes, flushed cheeks and sexy, just-fucked hair.

But her eyes aren’t on me, they’re combing the exterior of my house.

“Oh, Rush,” she breathes, sounding so entranced I feel a fucking kick in my heart muscle. “You designed this. I can tell.”

I don’t say a word. I think my throat’s not working right. Or maybe it’s my lungs. I just take her hand and lead her inside the house. My gut is doing the knot dance again because as she stares at all the glass and metal, brick and stone, I wonder if she likes it or is overwhelmed by it. The place is pretty modern, maybe even cold to some.

Standing in the center of the living room, staring out the wall of glass doors leading to the view of the Red Rocks in the distance, she turns to look at me. “It’s beautiful.”

The knot inside me unravels instantly and I find myself grinning like an asshole. I take her around, show her every inch of my digs, preen like a douche every time she oohs and aahs over my shit. God damn, I don’t want to be this guy, this guy who feels giddy-ass relief that his girl approves of his pad. Because A: I shouldn’t give a shit. And B: She’s not my girl anymore.

We end up in the kitchen and I remember she’s a guest and not a permanent resident who knows her way around and has equal control over the fridge and its contents.

“You want something to drink?” I ask, grabbing the handle and pulling the stainless door open to see what I got.

“Sure.” Addison leans against the counter all casual. She looks good in here, like she already belongs or something.

My hand tightens around the handle. “Nothing with alcohol for you.”

“Hey, hey,” she says on a laugh. The sound echoes through my house. I wonder idiotically if it’ll stick around, maybe cling to the walls after she leaves.

“I’m over twenty-one, man,” she continues. “Granted, it’s just one year over. But that’s legal.”

“Alcohol can do funny things.”

“No doubt. Some of the shit I’ve see at school…”

“I’m talking about tats.” I stare into the fridge, not seeing a damn thing, my skin going tight around my muscles. “Don’t want the area to start bleeding. It’s not likely, but I’m not taking any chances.”

“Aww, you’re such a caring guy.”

I close the fridge with just a little too much force and turn to face her. “No. I’m not.”

Her brows shoot together and she pushes away from the counter. Her happy face, and that sexy but casual body language—both of which I seriously want to bottle and keep in my upstairs safe—go rigid.

“Okay, what just happened?” she asks, shaking her head at me, her eyes confused. “We were chilling. Had a back and forth that was easy and light, and…” She shrugs. “You turn dark again. What’s going on, Rush? Did you bring me here to fight?”

My body flares up and my dick knocks at my zipper. Why did I bring her here? Was it because after tasting her back at the office, I needed more? I needed all of her? Or was it something besides that?

As I try to work out what I’m feeling, what I’m doing, my freaking intentions, my jaw goes so goddamn tight I’m worried about something snapping in there.

She takes a step toward me. “Rush…”

I back up like she’s made of fire. “Don’t want to fight.”

“Okay, good.” She nods. “Then what’s up?”

“What’s up?” I repeat, sounding a little manic. “Jesus…I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Why?”

My eyes lock with hers. I’m going off the rails. I can feel it. Why did she have to do this? Come back here and start shit up again? Make me want her? Make me remember how I’ve never stopped.

“Will you talk to me, please?” she says.

“I brought you here because I wanted to show you…” Fuck! I start, but can’t finish. Because I’m a pussy. Because her eyes are trying to burrow into my chest and take a look at my heart.

“Show me what?” she pushes.

I turn away, walk away, head for the doors and for the Red Rocks beyond. I contemplate smashing the glass to bits, even though I can just open the fucking thing if I want out. It’s just…I don’t want her to peer inside of me. I don’t want her to see that once-wrecked muscle because she’ll see that it’s no longer wrecked. That it’s starting to look right and maybe open up a little.

“Rush,” she calls, coming up behind me.

“Not now, Addison,” I say, feeling nuts and out of breath. “Give me a sec.”

“God, you’re killing me here.”

“Good!”

“What?”

I round on her, my anger, fear and lust colliding. “I said good! Fuck you, Ads. Good!”

Tears prick her eyes. She stares at me for one second, then turns around and heads to the kitchen counter and the small purse she’d dropped there earlier.

I’d fucking loved seeing her shit on my counter.

“What are you doing?” I ask, though it comes out harsh and demanding.

“I need to call a cab.”

My heart sinks into my gut like it’s made of steel and I hightail it over to her. “No.”

Ignoring me, she digs in her purse and pulls out her cell.

I take it from her. “You’re not going anywhere. Goddammit, Addison, I didn’t say that to hurt you.”

She turns and glares at me. “Sure you did, and you had every right to. I deserve it. I know I do. I fucked up. I knew what I had—I knew!” Those tears start falling. “But I threw it away. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, Rush, but I was fucking seventeen years old. We’re morons at seventeen. We think everything we do is right—that nothing has a consequence.” She grabs my shirt, yanks me to her. Her eyes are wild and glistening and gorgeous. “I’m asking you, begging you to forgive me so I can move on with my life—”

I cover her hand with my own and snarl, “You’re not getting my forgiveness.”

“Why not?” she cries out.

“Because I don’t want you to move on with your life!”

I grab her face and cover her mouth with mine. Her mouth has always been a hot and soft spot for me, and the one place I always wanted, but tonight it’s my way back from misery. I need her. More than I needed my tongue on her earlier. More than I need food or booze or my iron in my hand. I need my body against her, my dick inside her, deep and wet, just one last time to get her out of my system. Or fuck, that’s what I’m going to tell myself with every inch I push myself inside of her.

Christ, whatever it takes to separate feeling from fucking.

As she works my zipper, I grab for the edges of her tank, and ease it up, breaking our kiss for a sec to pull it over her head. Then I take her face in my hands again and devour her. She tastes hot, like the desert we’re alone in, and I drive my tongue inside her mouth to let her know that she belongs to me. Right now, she belongs to me.

Her hands fumble with the waist of my jeans, but she manages to get my fly undone and my cock in her hands. I groan as she fists me, and kiss her deeper. She meets me every step of the way, sucking my tongue into her mouth, biting at my lower lip.

Like I said, her and me, we were always combustible.

Her breasts are pressed up against my chest, the diamond-hard tips making me crazy with lust. I hate that I can’t have her every way at once. Hate that my mouth can’t be everywhere at once. Shit, that would rule with this girl.

I drag my mouth away from hers with a curse. Which causes her to release my dick. The thing instantly cries over the loss, dripping pre-come on my abs. But I gotta get those jeans off of her, those soaking wet panties. Breathless, her eyes half-lidded and hot, she wiggles out of the tight denim and tosses them aside with her foot.

I grin. I can’t fucking help it. She’s just so kickass. So fun. So desperate, like me.

Completely naked now, I see how wet she is, how the sweet-as-sin juice I sucked from her earlier is running hot again, down her leg, tempting me. My mouth waters, and I contemplate laying her out on my dining table and having a late supper. But then she’s on me, her thumbs tucked into the waistband of my jeans. She pulls Denim and his friend Boxer Brief down so hard I almost lose my balance. She looks up at me and laughs. I do too, then kick both things in the same direction as her clothes.

For one second, maybe two, I let my eyes roam over her, take in that sexy body that makes my eyes cross with lust. Oh, the artwork I would love to brand her with. Something with a lot of color on her thigh…maybe some black and gray under one of her breasts. Then my gaze jacks up, locks with those mismatched peepers and I’m done. Fucking done.

I reach for her, around her, and cup her ass. The second I lift her up, she wraps her legs around my waist and grinds her wet pussy against the base of my shaft.

I groan. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been inside you,” I say, my eyes tight with hers. “And yet I remember every inch. How you feel, how you smell, how tight your pussy squeezes my cock when we come together.”

“Oh, god,” she breathes, her eyelids getting heavy. “Rush, don’t make me wait any longer.”

We’re face to face, breath to breath, and as I lean in and take her mouth again, I lift her sweet ass in the air and set her right down on my cock.

Addison

I feel stretched. Filled. Like I don’t want to move, the pleasure of having Rush inside me is so great. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, bite at his lower lip, play tongue war as his fingers press into my ass with every slow yet deep thrust. I’ve completely forgotten where I am, where we are. It’s just empty space, air to breathe while we fuck each other like rabbits.

He groans against my mouth, holding us tight together as he grinds his hips into me, circling, then driving upward again. My breasts bounce with each thrust, and my pelvis is completely slick with moisture. It’s running down both our thighs, and I love that. Just like I love hearing him move, the slap of him against me. It’s so primal, so uninhibited. Neither one of us is trying to hide our need, our desperation for each other. It’s obvious in every guttural thrust, every drop of pre-come inside of me, every suck of my tongue into his mouth.

I rake my hands down his neck to his shoulders. God, his skin is so hot, so hard with lean muscle. I wish I could feel the artwork beneath my fingers as he drives into me.

“Addison,” he rasps against my hungry mouth. “Tell me…”

“What?” I mumble nearly incoherently. “Anything.”

“Tell me why you came back? Why?”

I groan. He’s so deep inside of me now my walls are contracting around him. Much more of this and I’m going to come. “You know why!” I cry out.

“For forgiveness?” His fingers brush over the seam of my ass.

I can only nod. My breath is stalled inside my lungs and my heart is slamming against my chest. Oh, god…is he? Is he going to touch me there?

“Damn, woman.” He eases his fingers lower, drenches them with my cream, then returns to my ass. “It’s done. Okay, Ads? It’s over. You have it. No more of this bullshit.”

Slowly, he enters me with one wet finger. “Oh, fuck, you’re tight. Around my cock and around my finger.”

I cry out. It’s too much. Pressure and pleasure and memories. This was something only we shared. I loved it. I loved him.

He moves us. Somewhere. A wall, I think. He presses back against it and bears down on me, fucking me so hard I scream, all the while using his finger in slow, gentle strokes. The combination is my downfall. I cling to him, my eyes clenched tight. I’m shaking, convulsing, writhing, a wave of dizziness coming over me. And yet, I can’t stop. I buck against him, moaning that I need more, I need all of him.

“Oh yeah, that’s it, baby,” he snarls close to my ear. “Your pussy’s fisting me, milking me.”

My nails dig into his shoulders as I feel him jerk and grow impossibly bigger inside of me. I gasp, shove my hips forward. I can’t get close enough. His finger presses deeper into my rear and his thrusts go hard, fast and deep, hitting that spot in me that sends my flying. And I’m off, gone. Shattered. Crying out my climax, my eyes flood with tears. Waves upon waves of intense heat lash over me as Rush continues to fuck me, using my orgasm to send him into his.

“Oh, Addison,” he groans, thrusting fiercely into me, chasing his high. “My Ads.”

I feel the hot rush of his come bathe my walls, and I grip him even tighter, hold him even closer as he eases his finger out of me and satisfies my last clenches of orgasm with four deep, yet slow thrusts into my sex. God, this is right. This is it. How it’s supposed to be. Finally, he slows, drops his head back against the wall and wraps his arms around my waist, locking me in.

“Fuck, Ads,” he breathes.

“I know,” I say, dragging my tear-stained face across his shoulder. “I know.”

Without another word, he pushes away from the wall and heads out of the kitchen. Sweat clings to us both as he carries me down the long hallway. I know where we’re going. I saw it on my tour. His bedroom. It’s big and modern and right now that’s all I can register or care about because when we enter, he goes straight for the bed and lays me down, oh-so gently, on my side. No lights are on, but the moon’s magnificent glow streams in through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The sheets feel cool and soft against my skin, but they’re nothing compared to the hot, hard body that tucks in behind me.

For a good five minutes, or maybe it’s an hour, I don’t know or care, we just lie together like sweaty spoons. I stare out the window to the landscape in the distance and let myself acknowledge the perfection in the moment. Coming to Las Vegas, I hadn’t even dreamed I’d get to share this again with Rush.

I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing. Tomorrow I’m supposed to go back, to home and school. I have a paper due on Monday…

“What are you doing?” Rush whispers against my neck.

I shiver. “I don’t know.” Thinking. Trying not to think. “I could easily fall asleep.”

He groans softly. “Shit, me too. But, baby, there’s not going to be any sleeping tonight.”

I feel his cock, hard and ready against the curve of my butt. My back arches automatically. “You want me to stay?”

He’s quiet for a second, and I wish I had a super power that allowed me to hear the thoughts of others. Or maybe just one other.

“Addison,” he says finally. “I have you in my bed. You’re not going anywhere. Not tonight, not…”

He stops himself. And I panic. The last thing in the world I want is for this moment to go south, and if he starts overthinking, that’s exactly where we’re headed. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. Tonight, we’re going to kiss, and lick each other, and laugh, and fuck. That’s it.

I roll to my belly and give him a seductive smile. “I’m very open to being your prisoner.”

His eyes instantly darken. “How open?”

As he watches, a grin pulling at his mouth, I come up on all fours. “How’s this?”

He groans. He’s so gorgeous and so completely captivating, I could stare at him for days without a break. No food, no water. Just Rush.

“Damn, Ads,” he practically growls. “That sweet ass kills me.”

As he slips a hand beneath me and plays gently, erotically with my nipple, I close my eyes and sigh. It’s done. I’m done. Forever. I swear, to whoever is up there directing traffic, this guy owns me. My heart, my body, every cell.

My pussy stirs with heat, and I squirm, wanting him again. Just the thought of him entering me, inch by steely inch, makes hot shards of pleasure rip through my sex.

My eyes open. His hand is gone from my breast, and he’s behind me now, his fingers working the tape from between my shoulder blades.

“What are you doing?” I say, glancing over my shoulder.

“Taking off the bandage.” He’s flush against me now, the thick shaft of his cock moving tantalizingly between my sensitive flesh as he works. “It’s been two hours.”

Two hours? I feel a pang of anxiety, like time is moving too fast. Tomorrow’s coming too quickly. “How is it?”

He sucks air between his teeth and his eyes lift to mine. “Perfect.”

“Can I see it?” I feel the hard, wet pressure of his cock against my opening.

His eyes still locked to mine, he shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says, sinking into me with a groan. “Not yet.”

Rush

The morning light out here near the Red Rocks is so different than just twenty minutes away in Vegas. It almost looks like it’s made out of crystal. And the sky is so damn blue. As I come up on one elbow and take a gander out the window, I think this might be the most perfect morning I’ve ever seen.

Or maybe it’s the exact same as every other morning, but I got this girl in my bed.

I sniff and shake my head. I slept maybe an hour last night. I had this crazy-ass urge to keep watch over her. You know, like some jerkoff roaming the desert was going to find his way up here and try to break in. Steal shit.

Steal my girl.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, dickhead, I tell myself. Don’t do that. For your own fucking sanity, don’t do it.

My eyes cut to her. She has her back to me, a sheet at her waist, and that light I was going on about a moment ago, it’s hitting my tat so perfectly my fucking guts roll over.

What the hell am I going to do? One-night-onlys happen more often than they probably should for me, but one night bliss sessions with the former love of your fucking life? Addison came here for two reasons: to tell me the truth about why she dumped my ass for another guy in front of an entire puberty-infested gymnasium; and to apologize for it.

Done.

That memory used to kill me. She’d said she was sick that morning, didn’t feel good enough to go to the dance. Sure I’d rented a tux and my stepdad was going to spend the night drinking so he’d offered me his car, but it wasn’t like it was prom or anything. Just homecoming. And since neither of us played a sport or carried pom-poms, I didn’t care. Thing was, I cared for her. I’d opened up a can of Campbell’s, and brought it over to her house. The chick who answered the door was really forthcoming with the information, grinned when she said it and everything.

The Campbell’s had gone into the bushes and I’d gone to the school. Ads and me, we never really tried to be friends with anybody else. We were so tight. I think that was the kick in the ‘nads for me. We were best friends, and there she was—so not sick—and slow dancing with that buttoned-up vanilla douche from the wrestling team.

Cops would’ve been called that night if Addison hadn’t stepped in, told me to take a walk. Course, my walk was a lot farther than she or I expected.

Next day, I packed all my shit and took a bus to New York. Refused every goddamn attempt Addison made to contact me. Like Ads said, we’re all morons at seventeen.

My eyes move over her skin. Everything’s different now. Our lives, our futures. And yet, this thing between us hasn’t died. If anything, it’s gained in strength like a tornado or a tsunami. Vanilla was a test, a break in the weather. But now…what?

She said she still loves me, but she never said anything about a second chance. About us trying this again. For all I know, she’s got someone back in Cali.

Once again, my guts plummet, rollercoaster-style. I never asked if she was seeing someone. Maybe I should’ve. Or maybe I should just go with the I-don’t-give-a-flying-fuck attitude.

She moves then, stretching, arms up, back arching, butt lifting my way.

Blood surges, heavy and painful, into my cock and I drop onto my back, lock my hands behind my head. Granted, I’m a horny motherfucker, but I’ve never wanted a girl like I want Addison. It’s always been like that. Even after I left town. I’m not proud to admit it, but I couldn’t stop my mind from dropping her face and those eyes a few times when I was with someone else.

Thing is, back in the day, I’d known. I’d known we belonged together. Not just until grad, but for the long haul. We were just, as the old folks say, meant for each other. But like anything partnership-related, it takes two.

“Rush?”

She utters my name all sleepy and sexy and turns over, drapes herself across my chest and groin, snuggles in tight. My cock lifts against her thigh and instantly, she lowers her leg and wraps her hand around my shaft.

I forget everything, even my name—Joe? Darrell? Bob?—as she begins to stroke me off. At first it’s just light, sensual petting, Easy Like Sunday Morning kinda thing, but as I pump into her hand, and as the head of my dick sports a few drops of come, she tightens her hold.

Her head is tucked into my neck, and as she works me over, she bites and laps at my skin.

“Tongue tracers,” she whispers, licking down my neck and over my collarbone as she jacks me.

“What?” I manage to kick out.

“Your ink,” she says, moving farther, running her tongue around my nipple.

Shit, if she’s going to be using her mouth that way I need to get that thing pierced, like yesterday.

Speaking of using her mouth…I groan as her head snakes down over my belly and lands dead center. My cock is throbbing in anticipation. It loves her hand, needs her pussy. But right now, it wants her mouth.

She looks up at me, her lips resting on the head of my prick.

“Fuck, I hope you’re thirsty, baby.”

“Parched beyond reason, Rush.” She grins, then sticks out her pretty pink tongue and licks into the slit.

I groan. “You remember how much I come?”

She nods, her eyes bright and excited, like it’s fucking Christmas morning.

I thrust gently toward her. “Every drop then, Addison.”

Her nipples bead as she nods again. Then her head drops and she sucks me deep, taking me all the way to the back of her throat. I curse, loud and guttural, going momentarily blind. Shit, her mouth is hot and wet. Then she retreats, her lips just covering the head now. Her eyes lift to mine and they shine with sexual power.

Go to it, baby, I want to say. Take whatever you want, however you want it. But my voice is lost. Gone on a voyage far, far away.

She pushes her lips all the way over the head now, slowly working her way to the root. And when she gets there—what does she do? Grab my fucking ball sack. Come beads at the tip of my dick and she licks it right up, moaning when there’s nothing left.

As she gently massages my testicles, she works her tongue up and down my shaft, Popsicle-style, then drops her head and sucks me deep. I thread my fingers in her hair and start pumping into her mouth. That really gets her going. She moans and closes her eyes and rubs her gorgeous tits against my thigh. Breathing hard, my gut clenching, my gaze lands on her upper back, the artwork I put on her—my brand—and stays there.

I come hard, my balls pulling up, my dick swelling. I know it’s a river I’m pumping into her, but she drinks me down like I’m the best goddamn thing she’s ever tasted.

And maybe I am. Because to me, she’s the best I’ve ever had. The only thing I want.

As I keep thrusting, slower and slower, she eases back and starts licking me clean, tending to me all sweet and shit. After going all night, I swear to god I should be soft and done, but it’s Addison. She’s my candy, my addiction. My dick stays hard for her. It knows her. It wants her. Again and again.

I reach down and grab her under the shoulder blades. I lift her up, then slowly, inch by inch, place her down on my shaft. Her honey walls instantly curl around me, cream around me.

I watch her as she rides me, as her fingers dig into my chest—as her goddamn eyes cling to mine. Right now, I’m not clear. Right now, my heart is having trouble knowing the difference between sex and love. And that’s got to be because with Addison there is no difference.

When she starts to really pick up speed and my hands grope at her perfect ass, I close my eyes and swallow the words that are fighting to get out of my mouth.

I love you too, Ads.

Never stopped.

Her walls clench around me.

Never want to stop.