Shelby
“How about we test things out?” Jaxson says, nonchalantly, like we’re preparing for a dance audition instead of a hit.
Veronica won’t want to let him go.
No woman would—least of all me.
I roll my eyes as he takes my hand and leads me into a motel room on the east side of Shelby. A quiet, frequently overlooked little place on the outskirts of town. Perfect accommodations for ridding this town of its most dangerous visitor.
Revenge is a long time coming.
Jaxson begins our practice session, showing me how he likes to get a feel for his environment, counting steps from the door to the bed, the window, the bathroom. How to use the space. Monitor my movements. Make the room “my friend,” meaning assessing what’s on hand to turn the simplest items, like the complimentary comb by the bathroom sink, into a weapon. How to mentally and physically prepare for a battle. This whole process takes a half hour, tops. Then he shoots me the grin of all panty-wetting grins, a naughty, you’re-in-trouble-now grin, causing my heart to do a tango and my vagina to do a happy dance.
“Time to practice,” he informs me.
“I thought we just did?”
“That, fireball, is foreplay.” My eyes grow wide as he begins to strip. First, flexing his muscles as he removes the baby-blue polo shirt that turns his eyes into lady-killers. He kicks off his shoes, black Nikes, then the same-colored socks.
“A fashion faux pas, black sneakers with black socks.” But I don’t mind . . . I really, really don’t mind, not with the way he’s looking at me, like I’m in for a real naughty treat. Oh yeah.
“Hides bloodstains better,” he says, practical and unconcerned by his sock selection.
I stare at his feet. Sexy, with perfectly formed toes. Is there any part of him that doesn’t turn me on?
He’s worn a belt on his dark chino pants, which he casually slides free, then coils the fine leather around his wrist.
“Another weapon,” I comment.
“Or . . . foreplay.” He snaps the belt. It makes a hissing sound in the air next to my ear as the end whizzes by me and nips at the mattress. “Rough can be pleasurable.”
I swallow, slightly afraid, highly aroused. “I’ll remember your words when you’re in my mouth.”
“Maybe I’ll use this belt to tie your hands behind your body and watch you squirm as I go down on your sweet pussy.”
Jesus.
He unbuttons his pants.
He unzips his fly.
The belt dangles from his steady grip.
“How am I doing?” he grins down at me like a madman.
“What are you doing?” Practice? This man’s invented seduction.
He hooks his thumbs in the waistline of his pants and slowly, so ever-loving slowly, strips off his chinos, showing me exactly what this practice session is truly about.
I go slack-jawed.
He’s gone commando.
And another big, beautiful part of him springs free, erect and proud and aroused to the point I spy a hint of pre-cum on his smooth tip.
I swear to God, I see red. Lust hits me hard. I’m shaking, aching with need.
Tie me up with that belt. Hell, bend me over your knee. Do what you will. I’m yours.
How many feet away is he?
He winks, a sign he’s well aware of his prowess, his power over me.
I grab hold of the belt and tug him closer.
His eyes shimmer as he stands spread-legged before me. I act on instinct, dropping to my knees before him. Eyes locked on his face, I take his tip in my mouth. Wipe that smirk clear off his face as I move my head, taking him deeper inside my throat, relishing the feel of him, the taste of him. I rock on my knees, back and forth, rewarded to hear his gravel-filled groan. God, I’ve never heard a sexier sound.
I withdraw to roll my tongue over his hardness, first the tip, then along the thick vein beneath his cock, all the way to his base. Incredibly, his erection hardens. Reminding me of who I’m dealing with, and how this all began.
I tug the belt free from his death grip. Then gently, ever so gently, I smack his tight ass with the fine leather, causing his muscles to flex.
“Fuck.”
I flash innocent eyes up at him. Who’s grinning now, baby?
His thighs and ass tighten as I hit him again. And again.
He groans again, whisky-laden music to the ears.
I go a bit wild. Taking him back inside my mouth, managing his movements as I grab his ass and hold him steady as I go down on him, sucking, licking, taking him deep in my throat. Controlling him, pleasuring him, marking him with my lips, my tongue, my desire for him.
“Remind me not to fuck with you anymore,” he grinds out between clenched teeth, his beautiful body shaking and his climax building.
I withdraw.
He groans, then says, “Tease.”
“I’ve been keeping company with the best.” I stand and wrench up the skirt I’m wearing. I’ll head home and change into something less comfortable for tomorrow’s job. I shimmy out of my panties, my hands shaking with excitement.
Ignoring his throbbing erection, he drops to his knees. “You know what they say?” he asks.
Oh shit, that smirk is back. “What?”
“Payback’s a bitch.”
Before his words settle within the sexually charged space between us, he has my right thigh hitched over his shoulder, the belt wound around my ass, and his tongue thrust deep inside me. I squirm, and he holds me in place with the belt. Licking me, devouring me. Controlling my movements. Minimizing my flex space. Ignoring the tears in my eyes as twelve licks later, I scream his name, climaxing hard. “Jaxson.”
I’m still shaking as he scoops me up and slides me onto his throbbing erection.
My back arches and I push down.
Heat fills me. Consumes me. Red isn’t a color anymore, it’s a need.
“Come again for me, fireball,” he says, the sound of his deep, gravel-like voice, rich with lust and desire, causing my senses to overload, as another mind-blowing orgasm rises within.
He quickens his pace, grinding up into me, thrusting deep, thrusting hard, until all I see is him gritting his teeth as his orgasm hits him, while fireworks more spectacular than anything I’ve ever dreamed of dance around us.
Then he nuzzles his nose against my ear and shatters me.
“I want you forever, Kylie.”
I cup his cheeks between my palms and kiss him. His forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his lips. “Forever. It’s you and me, Jaxson.”