Wrangler (36 page)

“And I’m supposed to trust you?” She looked up at me quizzically.

“You’re going home with me, aren’t you?” I lowered my voice an octave and snagged her earlobe with my teeth.

“You’re making me second guess myself,” she said, but her words softer, her will a little more relaxed. I slid a hand down her back and over the cheek of her ass, cupping it gently.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I reminded her gently, meaning every word of it.

She cocked her head, her eyes turning up at me, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “For some reason...I believe you.” Her face split into a grin. She tightened my hand in hers, then released it and we turned, walking out of the building and into the humid night air.

“We don’t need a cab?” she asked when we walked past the taxi stand.

“I live close, just a few blocks.”

“Oh.”

I walked with my hand at the base of her back, just like the gentleman I was taught to be. I wanted her in front, walking in line or ahead of me so I could keep an eye on her at all times. If she so much as tripped, I wanted to be there to catch her fall.

“It’s here.”

We stopped, and her eyes turned up to the luxury high-rise shooting into the Manhattan skyline.

“You live here?”

“Mmhmm.” I wove my fingers through hers again as I nodded at the doorman when we stepped in.

“Mr. Abbot,” the on-staff concierge greeted me politely.

“Hot stuff around here?” she breathed next to me as the elevator doors opened and I swept her in.

“Full of opinions, aren’t you?” My hands found her skin and were trailing up her thigh, the other capturing her neck as I held her still in a forceful kiss. My tongue plunged between her lips while her hands climbed up my shoulders and danced across my back.

I hoisted her in my arms, our lips never breaking contact as the elevator rose up each floor. Backing her against the wall, I rubbed my rock-hard cock against the crevice of her thighs, hearing the soft moans and mewls that escaped her throat like a reverent prayer.

“Christ, I want these off you.” I gripped the edge of her panties and pulled, hearing the elastic stretch and give. I yanked again until I heard the fabric rip, shoving the scrap of fabric in my pocket while her body shuddered with pleasure as all the nerves of her body came alive under my touch.

Ding.

The elevator came to a slow halt and the doors slid open. A gentleman cleared his throat behind us, reminding me instantly that we were not alone.

I slid Bethany down my hips, her tiny little feet landing on the floor in her too-high heels. “Sorry,” I mumbled when we passed the elderly gentleman I knew to be my neighbor down the hall.

“I'm not sorry in the slightest,” I whispered to her when he was out of earshot.

“You’re a deviant,” she giggled, her hand still locked in mine as we walked down the hall to my door.

“Only with you apparently,” I commented, not at all kidding. I flashed the electronic key in front of the scanner and stepped inside my apartment.

Without even turning on the light, my hands went to her body like I was a man starved.

She turned in my arms, her pants wracking her small curvy frame. She was all but crawling up me to attach her lips to mine again.

“Jesus, you’re so beautiful,” I mumbled between decadent kisses, my hands gripping her lush skin.

“Take me,” she insisted, her sweet little hips jerking against my own.

“Bethany,” I called, my hands caressing the skin at her neckline, trying to slow her down. I knew how much alcohol was in her system, and I didn’t want her to regret this in the morning, regret us.

“No, right now. I want you. I don’t want to think about anything else but you inside me.”

Her words nearly undid me, so shocking coming from her otherwise calm, collected personality. I could see that beneath all the make-up and curls and sequins, she was out of her element. Spontaneity was not something that came naturally for her.

“I want you to be sure,” I mumbled against her lips, backing against the wall to hold the weight of both of us.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” Her words urged me on as I smoothed her ass cheeks beneath the glittery dress.

“Jesus, woman,” I groaned.

“I’m taking you now, and then again, and then maybe again after that.”

“Yes, I’m yours, Jenson.” She gasped my name, and like a flame to alcohol, my passion exploded, my hands fisting at the fabric of her dress as I pulled it above her shoulders.

Her hair cascaded around her shoulders in wild disarray, and I thrust my hands into it instantly, tangling, and twisting in the soft chocolate locks as I kissed her silly.

Staggering on passion-fueled steps, I carried her across the room to land on my leather couch, the cool hide making her yelp and arch off the couch and closer into my arms. I took the opportunity to lick at the swell of one of her breasts, flesh pushed up over the white lace of her bra.

Her hands locked around my head as my teeth caught the fabric, and I pulled, her breast and the sweet engorged nipple released into the cool air of my apartment.

“That’s it. You’re so sexy when you’re turned on,” I whispered and plucked at the nipple with my teeth before rolling it around on my tongue.

She moaned and bucked, her hand grasping at her breast through the bra as I tasted the other. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“No, I-I dunno,” she murmured incoherently, lust hazing her brain.

“How about I tell you what I want?” I pulled a bra strap down one shoulder and traced the tan line with my tongue. “I want your thighs open wide for me.” I pushed her thighs apart. “I want to feast on your cunt. I want to taste you on my tongue for the next week.” I ran my nose along her exposed mound. “And then I want to fuck you so hard we both forget our names,” I finished, my fingers sliding between the velvety heat of her pussy lips.

“Jenson!” She clutched at the cushions of my couch.

“Yeah, baby?” I grinned, knowing I had her at a disadvantage with my fingers buried deep inside her. There was no turning back now.

“Please, I want to feel you.”

“Want to feel what? Say it.” I forced the dirty words from her mouth, the idea of corrupting her innocence and naiveté turned me on even more.

“Your penis. I want your penis buried inside me,” she begged in a rush, and my cock flexed painfully in my pants. I smiled at how she wouldn’t say “cock.”

I palmed my dick, trying to relieve some of the pressure, trying to prolong some of the sweet agony. I slid my finger to the hilt deep inside of her, then added another, slowly stretching her, knowing she’d need to be prepared for me.

“You’re going to feel so good,” I whispered, nipping at the flesh of her neck, teasing the little marks with my tongue to caress the bite away. “So fucking good I don’t even think I’ll be able to think straight.”

I traced my tongue across the line of her thigh, then inhaled the sweet smell of her delicious pussy. Tightening my hands at her knees, I buried my head between her thighs and tasted the sweet arousal pooling between her legs. “Goddamn, you don’t know what you do to me.”

I caught the passionate flare of her eyes before I figure-eighted my tongue at the tight bud of her clit. “I want all of you tonight. Don’t hold back on me, baby,” I crooned, then pushed my tongue through the aroused flesh of her pussy lips and lapping at her core.

“I-I’m going to cum.” Her legs tensed and tightened around my ears as I grabbed her ass cheeks in my palms and pulled her to me, feasting on her body, just like I’d promised.

“Not yet, baby. I want your sweet pussy to cum all over my cock.” I removed my mouth from her sensual body and crawled up her form, taking her face in my palms and thrusting my tongue between her lips. She moaned, her hands pushing through my hair while I pulled the zip on my jeans, releasing my burning cock from my pants as we kissed, desperate to get inside her.

“Hurry,” she begged. “I promise I’m clean.”

“I am too, baby. I’ve gone without for so long, and even before then I always used protection.” I grasped my dick in my palm and eased it between her juicy pussy lips. “But with you, I want to feel every raw inch of you. I’ll use a condom if you ask me to, but I really want you bare, sweetheart.”

She moaned and writhed, nodding vigorously as she wrapped her tiny fist around my cock and slid my length up and down her slit, coating me in her juices, paying close attention to rolling the tip over that hungry little bud of hers.

“Jenson,” she breathed as her hips jerked.

It was all the confirmation I needed. I slid past the tight flesh of her pussy, relishing the feel of her tight muscles flexing and warming my cock. Her soft pants and moans, the way her hand shot into her hair and mussed it around her shoulders while she begged for more, she drove me wild.

“You feel so damn good. God, I could stay buried in you forever.”

Her eyes shot open, riveted on where we were locked together.

“If that’s how you look with my cock deep inside your hungry pussy, I may never let you leave.” I pulled her up my body, forcing her to lock lips with me as I pushed the rest of the way inside her. My hips flexed, mimicking the thrust of my tongue between her supple raspberry lips.

“I’ve never felt anything like this.” I jerked, and her inner walls clenched and tightened around my member. “So sweet, so tight, so responsive,” I muttered, my tongue devouring the inside of her mouth. I was determined to walk around in her scent for the next week.

“This is incredible. You feel incredible.” Her words melded together as her hips started to pitch wildly, her thighs tightening around my waist as I clutched at her ass cheeks.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” I plunged my hand between us, rolling my thumb over the sensitive bud of her slit as her nails clutched at the muscles of my back and a guttural howl gasped from her lips.

My own release followed moments later, spurred on by her insatiable bucking, and both of our bodies fell, limp and sticky against the couch. Our chests inflated feverishly as we gasped up the oxygen between us.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, running a hand through her wild locks of cocoa hair.

“Yeah,” was the only reply I could manage.

“Should we do that again?” Her chest was still heaving with pants.

“My thoughts exactly.” I dove between her legs, anxious to get my fill of her.

KEEP READING ON AMAZON

By Dani Wyatt

P
ROLOGUE

BECKETT

{10 years old}

“
Dad
–“ 

My lungs feel like the flames have moved inside.  I hand him my sister in her charcoal-smeared unicorn pajamas. 

“
Why
?” Dad’s voice is raw, his eyes full of hate. “Why didn’t you
listen
to me?
I told you,
I
told
you—” He buries his face into my sister’s tiny body only to raise his eyes and ask me the question I don’t want to answer.  “
Where is your mother
? You didn’t even try, did you?
You didn’t even try
!” He scans the crowd, desperate, screaming at the men in yellow suits. “My wife’s in there! She’s
still in there
, please,
please God
, help her...
someone...please
.”

I remember my science fair project is sitting on the kitchen table. I have to turn it in tomorrow. I need him to be proud of me.

Last year, he helped me make an electromagnet — a super, duper one — and he tried to hide the tears when I won the blue ribbon for the best project out of every fourth grader in the Upper Cleveland School District.

Two paramedics rush toward me. 

“
Get him in the ambulance
.” One of them yells as they grab at me, lifting me off my feet then strapping me down. “Call ahead to Children’s Hospital burn unit.”

That was the day I realized the pain that comes from outside is nothing comparted to the pain that comes from inside. That was the day my childhood ended.

––––––––

C
hapter One

Beckett

{Eight Years Later}

”Rent is due on the first.  But you know there are alternative ways for you to pay.”  Denise is more cougar than landlord.

I know, because I fucking hear half the other tenants giving you their ‘rent’ through the paper thin walls.  I don’t have that much experience with women, but I think I know enough to know that Denise is
loud.

Her dime store, blue eyeshadow and the ever present snapping piece of Wrigley's Spearmint are signatures of my landlord who has not stopped trying to seduce me since I moved in. 

She’s Mrs. Robinson with red hair and a tramp stamp.

I’m unfortunately in the room next to hers and the sound of her bed denting the plaster wall must be heard in all seven bedrooms plus the kitchen of this makeshift boarding house on the low rent end of Cleveland’s ass.

I mean,
come on.
All that noise is distracting as fuck. I have zero interest in her, but I can imagine if you were riding that ride all that fucking noise would be a boner killer.