This book was given to JOANNA Rączkowska on Instafreebie. www.instafreebie.com Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter...
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This book was given to JOANNA Rączkowska on Instafreebie. www.instafreebie.com
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight
Copyright 2015 by (Fiona Knightingale) - All rights reserved. In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Rescued by the Bad Boy An Alpha Male Romance By: Fiona Knightingale
Rescued by the Bad Boy
Chapter One It was a night like any other in their house. Chris was drunk and angry at the world, and Marie represented the world to him. Despite her long day working at the law firm, her out of work mechanic husband designated himself as the keeper of her evening. And it was going to be a long night. The black eye represented how terrible the dinner was. The split lip indicated that she had not even served it correctly. And the tender ribs meant that she had not cleaned up the mess fast enough after he splattered spaghetti across the kitchen wall. She sighed to herself and kept scrubbing down the wall and the floor. He screamed something at her from the dark recesses of the living room and she just assumed it meant he wanted another beer. She dutifully stopped cleaning and fetched one from the fridge. She popped the twist off cap and delivered it to him with tomato sauce stains on her bare knees. “About fucking time,” he leered. She nodded and returned to the kitchen while he finished watching the baseball game, or the football game, or whatever sports season it was. She could not remember them all, nor did she care. She just cared about the mess in the kitchen and the money that he was going to lose when whichever team lost that he had placed his bet on. There were nights that she prayed his loan sharks or bookies or whoever it might be would come and break his neck. But with her luck, they would most likely just come break his knees and she would then have a drunk, angry invalid in her home. At least she would still be able to
outrun him then. She cracked a smile at the thought of him screaming at her from the couch as she stood just out of his arm’s reach. The smile opened up the cut on her lip and she had to fight back tears at the sudden stab of pain. She had dodged so many questions about the state of her face and the frequent doctor’s visits, and she was not stupid enough to think her coworkers believed she was really that accident prone. But she fell into the trap that so many women do — too embarrassed to say anything and too afraid to leave. She just hoped something would happen to change her situation. Like a meteor falling on his La-Z-Boy chair one night and crushing him into dust. By the time she had finished cleaning the kitchen, he had finished the twelve beers and was passed out in the easy chair and she tiptoed her way to the bedroom to escape her life into a dream. Overall it had been one of the good nights, because he passed out before he had decided he wanted sex.
Chapter Two The next morning, Marie made sure her thick pancake makeup was in her purse before she left the house. For whatever twisted pleasure it gave him, he liked it when she left the house with her bruises still showing. She only covered them up once she was stationary in the office parking garage. There was no makeup that could hide the split lip and she just had to breathe carefully to avoid any further pain in her ribs. She dabbed the foundation on carefully and tried to smooth lip balm over her sore mouth. The receptionist gave her that knowing look when she walked in, but she looked down at her feet and mumbled a good morning in Susan’s direction. Hoisting her purse on her shoulder shot a twinge through her ribs and she was certain that Susan saw her wince as she passed. She stopped to get a cup of coffee before heading to her office and deliberately avoided eye contact with the other people milling around in the breakroom. She tended to keep everyone at arm’s length, out of fear mostly. She knew what they would all say and she knew what she should do. Chris did not like her having friends or social connections and it was actually easier to abide by his demands. Marie got settled into her office and started working on the brief that she left unfinished yesterday. She was one of those employees that kept her head down, tried to stay out of the way, and just got her work done. She would have stayed last night to finish the document, but knew that if she did not have dinner on the table on time, there would be hell to pay. Almost everyone she worked immediately with silently understood her situation and
since she always got her work done efficiently and effectively, they did grant her a reasonable amount of slack. She took small pleasures where she could though. After she spent several hours working through the requested legal brief, she took a break for lunch. Marie shouldered her purse gently and walked from her office to the small nearby park. As soon as she crossed onto the grass, she slipped out of her heels and wiggled her toes into the soft dewy blades. A smile snuck across her lips and she breathed in the fresh air deeply. A few more steps on the natural carpet and she was in front of the pond. Marie settled into her usual grassy spot, and dipped her toes in the cool water as she pulled out her book and her peanut butter sandwich. It was not linen napkins and champagne, but it was something. She relished these lunch hours, when no one demanded anything of her and she could not disappoint anyone. The water swirled around her toes and she relaxed into several chapters of her trashy romance novel. She had very few escapes but had learned to treasure any moment that she could. All too soon, the alarm on her cell phone chirped to let her know it was time to return to work. Even work was, in its own way, an escape from her home life. She was not sure what she would have done if Chris had turned out to be one of those guys that ordered her to stay home while he made the money. It was really easier this way, to be the breadwinner and get out of the house. She was constantly surprised that he never verified her paychecks, but that enabled her to save a little bit twice a month into a hidden account at a separate bank. She was also in charge of paying all the
bills, so sometimes she was able to sneak in a trip to the bookstore as long as she kept the books hidden under the seat of her car. The fact that he preferred to sit on the couch and drink her paychecks away actually did afford her a larger amount of freedom than had it been the other way around. She slipped her high heels back on to her damp feet and headed back to the office to finish her work for the day. On her way home that evening, she stopped and picked up a twelve pack just to cover her bases. It was not worth going home at all if he ran out of beer. Once home, she set the carton in the fridge and took a nice cold one to Chris in the easy chair. She stutter stepped when she actually looked at him. His eyes were ringed with red and the furrow in his brow was even deeper than normal. “What are you looking at, bitch?” he growled. “N-N-Nothing. I was just bringing you a beer.” She hated to get close enough to him to hand it to him but there was no other option. When she bent over, he snatched it from her and glared coldly. She was startled to see the beginnings of several bruises on his cheek and jaw. Marie was smart enough not to ask but she grinned inside her head. “I’ll have dinner ready shortly,” she promised. “You better,” he snarled before shifting his eyes back to the television. “And bring it to me in here.” She nodded and carelessly turned her back to him. The sudden dull pain radiated up from her lower back and she knew he had kicked her. Any sign of acknowledgement would have brought on more so she just kept walking away from him. Part of her wanted to
just keep walking out the back door but most of her was still tied to the dark man in the dimly lit living room. The only light in the room was the faint blue glow from the television set. As she finished cooking the baked chicken and fixed his plate, she ran through the possibilities in her mind. She was almost certain that one of the bookies had sent a henchman to the house that day and obviously Chris had not had the money to pay off his debts. It was only a matter of time before all of that caught up with them, but what could she do. She gave him the necessary cash when he asked but he certainly was not trying to help himself in any way. She only wished she had been there to see him grunting in pain and whimpering for mercy. But her presence would not have made the situation any better, and his anger towards her for witnessing his weakness would have been worse. “Where’s my damn food? And bring me another beer.” He yelled at her from the darkness that surrounded him. She took him his plate of food and another beer and returned to the kitchen to eat her own meal. After cleaning up, and delivering yet another beer to His Majesty, he eventually passed out and she headed to bed. Her books were tucked away safely in her car, so she laid down in the dark and listened to him snore from the easy chair. Her body was mostly dull and her mind was almost completely numb. For a long time, she had carried a tiny candle of hope deeply protected inside her, but time had continued to whittle away at anything that kept her focused on nourishing it. She drifted into a fitful sleep.
Chapter Three The next day started the same as the previous, but before Marie headed off to work, she was rewarded for her tardiness or her insolence or some other perceived offense with another reddened cheek from the back of his hand. She hoped it would not blossom into an actual bruise as she sighed deeply while looking into the rear view mirror of her car. She worked quickly through her morning, and missed her lunch time in the park. She had to eat at her desk since she was leaving early for a dentist appointment. After the appointment, she stopped by the store for beer, and arrived home about two hours early. She studied the motorcycle parked outside for a long moment and debated on whether to just leave and return at her normal time. But the irritation of having missed her lunch break grated on her nerves, so she opened the front door and cautiously entered her own home. An enormous man loomed over Chris in the easy chair, bellowing about how much he owed somebody for something. Her own pain would come later but Marie almost grinned as she saw the leather-clad arm pull back and fly forward against Chris’ jaw. Chris slumped over and moaned into his own lap. He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his swollen eye, and growled in her direction. “What are you doing home, you lazy bitch? Are you skipping out on work again?” Marie felt her sore cheek flush pink as the large interloper whirled around to see who Chris was speaking with. When he turned to face Marie, she realized that not
only was he muscle-bound and angry, but he also looked vaguely familiar. She shook her head to clear the foggy reverie, and stepped back abruptly when she realized he was striding towards her. “Who are you?” he growled, in a deeper voice than Chris but with less venom. “I-I-I’m his wife, Marie. Who… Who… Who are you?” “I’m the bill collector,” he replied snidely. Chris fumed on the chair and Marie knew that she would catch hell for this later. She clutched the handle of the beer carton tightly and nodded to the man. His pale blue eyes studied her face closely as if he was memorizing her. “C-C-Can I help you?” she stammered. “Are you okay?” “Y-Y-Yes. I’m fine.” “Come out front with me,” he ordered. Her eyes darted from Chris’ face to the man’s and back to Chris. Chris nodded angrily and gestured for her to follow the man. What on earth was about to happen? Was Chris promising her in exchange for his debts? She actually would not have been surprised if he had done just that. She was horrified by the prospects but was not really sure it could be any worse than her living situation already was. She set the beer on the coffee table, lowered her head, and followed the broad leather clad back out the front door still clutching her purse. He slammed the door closed behind them and narrowed his eyes at her. His gaze was penetrating but oddly enough, did not seem angry. “C-C-Can I help you?” she whispered. “Are you okay, ma’am?” “Yes, I told you I was fine.” “You’re not fine. I can see the bruise on your eye
and the cut on your lip. He do that?” the man asked, jerking his thumb back towards the house. She averted her eyes and declined to answer. “I’ll take that as a yes, Marie.” He stepped closer to her until he was face to face with her, and she was surprised at how good he smelled. Chris always smelled of beer and sweat and misery. This man smelled like Ivory soap and leather and the pleasant sort of danger. She winced instinctively. This kind of closeness from a man almost always ended in both physical and mental pain. He shoved his large fists into his jacket pockets. “I’m not going to hit you, Marie. Calm down.” She took a deep ragged breath and tried to avoid direct eye contact. “You look familiar,” he mused. “I do?” “Yeah. I’ve seen those brown eyes before. I know it.” “Well, I doubt we know the same people,” she deferred. “We know at least one in common,” he pointed the top of his head back to the house. “So don’t pull any of that attitude with me.” She could not stop her eyes from rolling as she sighed. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. What a waste of oxygen. What the hell are you doing married to him?” “It’s a long story,” she replied. He crossed his arms over his hard chest and leaned back on his heels, looking her over for a long moment. “You want to get out of here for a little while?” “W-W-What?” she stuttered. “What do you mean?
Where are you taking me?” “You just don’t seem all that eager to get back inside. Want me to make up some sort of story, and I can get you outta here for a little while?” Marie looked down at her conservative black suit and sensible black heels, looked back at the house containing Chris and a case of beer, and then looked up at the scruffy face in front of her. His face was hardened by sun and life, but his ice blue eyes were not harsh and his lips were curved back in a slight smile. She did not know this motorcycle hooligan from Adam; she could very well be putting her life on the line. He tilted his head as he waited for her answer. She heard the beer top pop in the house as Chris screamed at the television, and she blinked once very slowly. “Let’s go,” she said with a feigned air of determination and bravery.
Chapter Four Marie piled her long blonde hair on top of her head and shoved the helmet downwards, snapping the face guard into place. It had been years since she had been on the back of a motorcycle and she hoped it was like riding a bike. She smirked at her internal pun. She slung her purse into a cross body position behind her and scooted up behind the man in front. She turned her head towards the house and saw Chris gaping at them in the window and momentarily feared for her life more upon her return to that house than upon the motorcycle. She spread her thighs wide around his and felt momentarily grateful for the loose fitting skirt. As she settled in to the seat, she wrapped her arms around the man’s surprisingly trim waist and inhaled the Ivory soap scent that wafted off of him. When she closed her eyes, she was back in high school and clinging to her then platonic boyfriend as they rode through the back streets of town. She could see him clearly, despite the almost twenty years of separation, and instantly knew who the rider in front of her was. She spread her palms flat against his chest and stomach and felt the muscles twitching and bulging. Her breath caught in her throat as the memories flooded back into her; how she had always had a crush on him, how he had taken her to prom and got a wonderful laugh as she bunched her evening gown up to accommodate the motorcycle between her legs, how he always deferred any suggestion that they might actually date instead of just hang out. He had seemed like the dangerous biker boy back then, and apparently had
grown up into the dangerous biker man. His muscled body felt all masculine to her and she gripped his waist tighter. The motorcycle roared to life between her thighs and she jumped at the sudden vibrations against her sensitive areas. It had been a lifetime since anyone had been interested in her pleasure, and the intensity of the engine’s stimulation was almost too much for her body. He screeched out of the driveway and they disappeared from Chris’ view. She had long forgotten the experience of riding a motorcycle, so the twists and turns seemed exaggeratedly sharp and dangerous. She tried to lean with his body but that only made her more aware of each lean muscle in his body as it flexed and bulged. It had been so long since she felt any tingle in her own body other than fear, that it felt foreign as heat surged through her bloodstream. She felt safer on the back of this speeding monster of a vehicle than she did in her own living room. Her thighs and everything in between felt almost numb by the time he coasted to a stop outside an older rickety apartment complex. He turned the machine off and kicked it to one side, leaving her in place as he quickly dismounted. Her body felt cold and empty at his departure, but he then turned and offered a large hand to help her down. His thick rough fingers enclosed her delicate hand as she tried to climb down without flashing him. She smoothed her skirt into place and shook her blonde hair loose from the helmet. His eyes sparked with something she could not quite distinguish, but instinctively knew she should have recognized. Her senses were on overdrive and she tried as best she could to make sense of where
they were. Looking into his tanned and weathered face, she searched for a sign of the boy she had known, or even an indication that he knew who she was. “I knew you as soon as I saw you,” he answered, startling her with his psychic abilities. “You did? How?” “It was your eyes, like I said. They used to be gentler, more exposed I guess, but I can still see you in there somewhere.” “I don’t know about that. I don’t know if there’s anything left of me in this old body.” His eyes scanned down over her conservative suit and back up to her face. “You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. And stronger than that asshole I was pounding.” Her soft lips parted into a grin, “I have to admit, I did like seeing that. But I’ll catch hell for witnessing it later.” “For witnessing it? How could you be in trouble for that?” “Cause he’ll be upset that I saw him like that, even though that’s always been pretty much a dream of mine for the last several years.” She let out a small giggle, and then clapped her palm over her mouth. “I’m Slate, by the way.” “Slate? What a nickname for someone named Howard.” “Yeah, well, no one calls me that around here. No one’s called me that for years.” She giggled again, “I promise, it’s our secret. So how did you end up in a business like busting people’s faces?” He narrowed his eyes and studied her. “I could ask a rude question, but I won’t. And it’s better if you don’t ask them either.”
“Oh.” Her giggles dissolved and her face went blank. It was a well-practiced defense mechanism when she got reprimanded, Slate could tell. “So where are we?” “My apartment complex.” “Why?” “I just thought you could use a night off from that asshole. Although really, Marie. I could tell at your house that you didn’t really recognize me, so I’m a little shocked.” “Shocked? I walk in to my own living room and find you wailing on my husband, and you’re the shocked one?” “I meant, shocked that you would agree to ride off with a stranger. I should take you over my knee just to teach you a lesson.” “Oh that. I figure, you could hardly do any worse than what I faced there. Wait, what? Take me over your knee? Good heavens!” His eyes softened at first as he shook his head, and then they slowly morphed into steel. “Marie…” “Yes?” “How the fuck did you get mixed up with him?” Marie sighed softly and shrugged noncommittally. “Who knows how these things happen?” “C’mon Marie. I knew you years ago and even back then I knew you were going places. Based on your suit there, it seems you probably have a good job. So why that piece of shit?” “Can we go inside? I don’t really want to stand around out here anymore.” “Oh, yeah. Sorry. C’mon up.”
Chapter Five Slate turned on the heel of his black leather boot and headed away from her as she tottered behind him, still shaky from the ride and the suddenness of her evening. Her body still hummed from all of the vibrations and the nearness of her muscle bound friend. He strolled to a nearby doorway and unlocked the first door they came to. She followed him into the apartment, and he reached behind her to flip on the light switch. As he shut the door behind her, he rested his palm flat against the cracked wood, right next to her head, and leaned towards her face. His scent, of leather mixed with Ivory, actually smelled intoxicating to her. “Slate?” she whispered. “Howard?” “Please don’t call me that,” he admonished. “Sorry, I’m still adjusting.” His eyes had softened again and he searched hers for some sign of who she used to be. Marie could not handle the intrusion and averted her gaze away from his. His fingertip was rough against her cheek as he turned her face back towards him. “Marie?” Slate inhaled deeply and filled his lungs with the smell of her. He pulled his finger away and ran his hand over his sleek shaved scalp. Her hand crept up tentatively and she ran just her fingertips over the bristly skin. He almost shuddered at the feather touch but bit back the urge. Marie felt a forgotten surge of heat in her veins as his bicep bulged and his jaw tightened. He did not pull away but every muscle in his body clenched as he struggled with his self-control. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Would you like something to drink?” he offered.
“S-S-Sure,” she replied in a voice that was barely over a whisper. He pulled back from her and strode to the kitchen to pull two beers out of the fridge. She wrinkled her nose slightly but took the bottle from him and popped it open. “What’s with the face?” he challenged. “Oh that. Sorry. I just, I guess I don’t much care for the smell sometimes, after everything.” “Ah, well, I don’t have anything else except tap water. I’m not what you call domestic.” He gave a halfgrin. “Oh no, this is fine.” “You keep using that word, ‘fine’. I’m not sure anything is fine in your world.” A sudden spark of anger flickered in her hazel eyes. “Oh really? What’s so normal about your life?” He chuckled wryly. “Oh we’re not talking about normal here, and we’re certainly not talking about my life.” Marie picked at the label on her bottle of beer and looked down at her shoes. “C’mere,” he said softly, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the couch that sagged against the wall. She followed dutifully and sat down next to him. “Why are you being so nice to me?” She could hear her own voice wavering with uncertainty and disbelief. “Why shouldn’t I be? You haven’t done anything wrong and you’re an old high school friend.” She tightened her lips, “Do we have to use the word ‘old’?” He laughed, “No. How about ‘former’ instead?”
“That works.” Marie sat perched on the edge of the couch next to him as he lounged against the back of the couch with his legs sprawled apart. Several times he raised his hand to her back but dropped it back down before making contact. As though each of his motions sent out physical electric sparks, Marie shivered every time but did not look back at him. She kept her back stiffened and her eyes down at the beer bottle. She inhaled sharply as she felt him move more intentionally behind her. Slate slid out of his leather jacket and laid it on the arm of the couch. This time, when his hand lifted, he lightly touched her back and she jumped. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just need you to relax,” he said softly. “You’re making me tense here.” She rotated her torso around to look at him, and her eyes drifted over the grey sleeveless muscle shirt, down his hard chest and flat stomach and back up to his bulging arms. A dark green snake curled around one forearm and gripping the opposite bicep was a black skull with a flaming knife through one of the eye sockets. Her hand drifted up and her fingertips traced the snake’s twists and turns over his skin. He did not move, letting her touch send ripples of desire through his own bloodstream. As her hand shifted to the other arm and outlined the skull and knife, he raised the snake arm and tipped her chin upwards to look at him. In his lifestyle and line of work, rarely did he feel any gentle touch, let alone that of a woman. “Marie?” he asked quietly. “Yes?” “What are you doing?”
“I-I-I don’t know. What are we doing here?” Her breath escaped her lips in tentative gasps. “You tell me,” he countered.
Chapter Six Deep inside her belly, she felt the spark of a long forgotten desire. It had been so long since she had been actively interested in sex or even intimacy, yet she could not stop touching this man she used to know as a boy. She felt more connected to him in the last hour or so than she had with her husband in the last ten years. She slid her fingertips up his arm until they tickled the back of his neck. She felt his broad shoulders rise and fall with a deep sigh. He rested both of his hands on her hips gently and turned her entire body towards himself. Her hands landed flat against his chest and rested there, keeping their bodies apart but not pushing him away. Slate slid his hands from her hips up her sides and down her arms until his large hands covered hers and held them to his own chest. “If someone had asked me,” he started, “I never would have imagined finding you in that house with that guy. I can’t imagine what path your life presented to you that landed you in that dark hole. You do remember that you deserve better, that you can do so much more?” She sighed and tried to push back the stinging tears. “I was dating him while I finished paralegal school and I ended up pregnant. We lost the baby after we got married and I guess he’s never forgiven me. Or maybe I’m still punishing myself for everything. I don’t really know. It’s not straightforward. It’s complicated.” Slate exhaled slowly and squeezed her hands gently against his chest. He lightly gripped her wrists and pulled her closer until their lips were merely inches apart. “Marie, stop me anytime,” he whispered. She held her breath for a suspended moment while her mind reeled with the options and the consequences.
And she closed the inches between them as she brushed his lips with hers. He returned the tentative motion with a more assured one, pressing his lips firmly against hers. She pulled back but only minutely. “What are we doing?” she whispered. “Anything we want. Anything you want.” She studied his pale blue eyes as they swirled with desire and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him back to her. His passion was strong but reserved as his tongue tasted the sweetness of her lips. Marie felt her head swim with heated thoughts that she could not untangle. The heat in her bloodstream surged downwards and collected between her thighs. “Howard,” she whispered, “it’s been so long. I didn’t even realize I missed you. That I missed us.” Deep inside, the tiny remaining spark of that high school boy flared and he remembered who she had been and how badly he had wanted her back then. His hands stopped their roving at her waist and he lifted her up to set her on his lap. In her dizziness, Marie straddled his lap without conscious thought and let her hands stroke down his back. He pulled back from the kiss and peeled off her suit jacket. The swell of her full breasts surprised him and he let his hands drift over them as they rose and fell with her breathing. “I don’t remember these,” he chuckled. Marie giggled, “They grew in later.” His rough fingers were surprisingly nimble as he unfastened her blouse buttons, and he slid the top off her body, dropping it to the floor with her jacket. His eyes widened at the firm curves of her breasts under her white satin bra, and her trim waist as it disappeared into her skirt. He winced at the faded bruise on her ribcage and ran the back of his hand over the area as if to wash away
the pain. He bowed his head to her collarbone and left a trail of warm damp kisses along her creamy skin. “Why are you hiding in that bulky oversized suit? You’re gorgeous.” Marie felt her cheeks flush and she shook her head. “You’ve lost your mind,” she whispered, “I’m just a dumpy housewife who can’t stand up for herself.” He leaned back into her and left more damp kisses along her neck and throat and chest. Each of his gentle touch nudged the sparks into flames and her belly swirled with neglected desires. Her fingers tickled his stomach as she tugged at his tee shirt, and lifted it up over his head. She ran her fingers through the sprinkle of dark curls and traced the red dragon imbedded in his pec. “I don’t remember all of this ink,” she laughed. “Does it bother you?” “No, I find it… sexy.” her voice trailed off into almost a breath. Slate grinned at her, “You say that to all the bikers.” “Nope, just the ones who rescue me,” she teased him back. He deftly unclasped her bra and let it fall to the wayside with her other clothes. As her breasts fell into view, his hands could not stop themselves from tickling the delicate skin. Marie gasped softly and arched her back to push them into his hands. He pulled her chest against his, trapping one of his hands between them. His fingers teased and tickled her nipples until it threatened to pierce his skin. Her gasps escaped her full lips in breathy little puffs. “How long has it been?” he groaned against her neck. “Since when?”
“Since anything.” “Oh he has sex with me whenever he wants, but it’s been years since… since someone really touched me.” “Mmmm, his loss is my gain.” Slate buried his face in her breasts, letting his hand torment one while his tongue teased the other. Marie felt her thighs tighten up and suddenly she became aware of the large stiffness that pressed up into her from Slate’s lap. As he drew her nipples into stiff peaks with his attentions, she discovered that her hips would not sit still. She writhed and squirmed until one of his hands was pressing her down into his groin. Her loose flowing skirt had settled around the two of them, and the coarse fly of his jeans rubbed against her satin panties and against the sensitive places underneath. She felt the spreading dampness inside the satin and was startled by how much she wanted the man underneath her. “Marie,” he rasped, his desire flowing from his swelling cock into his voice. “What?” she gasped. “Stop me now if you want to.”
Chapter Seven She took a long breath in and held it. As she exhaled slowly, she slipped one hand between their bodies and squeezed his throbbing groin. He groaned and slipped his hands under her skirt to dig his nails into her backside. She squirmed harder against him as he slid his bared teeth against her shoulder. He released her bottom and fumbled slightly with the zipper on her skirt. It finally gave way and he added it to the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor. She sat on his lap in nothing but her white satin panties and he groaned again. “Goddamn, Marie, if I had known…” “Known what? Done what?” “That this was hiding under all of that baggy clothing in high school. I would not have pushed you off so much,” he laughed at himself and his own stupidity. “Oh… I did want you back then,” she admitted. “I know, I’m sorry. I might have been able to save you,” he said softly. Marie leaned in and kissed him again, pulling him against her bare skin and letting the warmth of his body fan the flames of her desire. He pushed her hips up with his hands and body and wriggled out of his jeans from underneath her. As she settled back down on his lap, she felt the hardness of his need pressing up against the wetness of hers. “No going back now, hmm?” she murmured. He looked into her eyes hard, the hazel color swirling with brown and green and blue as she wrestled with her desire and her guilt. Slate wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her in the air as he stood up. “We’re not doing this on the couch like lust-crazed
teenagers,” he muttered. She twined her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bedroom. Her lips sought his urgently, parting so that her tongue could tickle his lips. He laid her on the bed and let his eyes rove over her nearly naked body before he climbed on top of her. His mouth betrayed his need for her. He so badly wanted to take it slow and remind her everything that sex was supposed to be about, but his lips and tongue and teeth wanted to consume all of her simultaneously. He kissed and nibbled his way down the valley of her full breasts, across her trim belly, and dipped teasingly under the waistband of her panties. She squirmed and gasped at every touch, terrified of breaking the moment but desperately wishing he would take her completely. He hooked his thumbs under her panties and slid them down her legs, slowly revealing her smooth mound and then her slippery wet folds. He groaned deeply in his chest and started kissing the back of her knees. She giggled and twitched, but her giggles dissolved into moans as his mouth moved upwards towards the center of her yearnings. He exhaled softly, letting his warm breath caress her pussy and her thighs parted as far as she could get them. He placed one soft kiss on the tight folds and she held her breath. As his tongue parted her and tasted everything she had to offer, she groaned and dug her nails into the bed. Slate’s need for her won out over his desire to take it slow, and he traced his tongue over every crease and fold and hidden secret. The torment was almost more than she could bear after so long but when he finally grazed her aching clit, she nearly screamed. He flicked
and curled his tongue around her until she was panting and squirming. Marie could feel years of ignored needs and neglected desires surging through her body, culminating at the tiny spot where his tongue met her body. Within minutes, the rolling waves crested and she screamed into the dark bedroom as she bucked against the assault of his tongue. As her shudders slowed, Slate yanked his boxers off and crawled up on top of her heated body, gleaming with a glow of pleasure. His fingers slid easily around inside her dripping wetness and within moments he was sheathed and pressed up against her pussy. Marie wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his ass as though spurring him to enter her. He slid himself inside to the hilt and groaned as her heat enveloped and caressed him. He paused, letting her body adjust to his size. She writhed underneath him, silently willing him to thrust into her despite his width stretching her more than she had ever felt. As her muscles clenched down on him, his hips took on a life of their own and he slowly pulled out only to drive himself back inside. Marie gasped and squeezed her thighs around his waist. Her hands wandered over his chest and her nails raked down his flexing stomach muscles. Over and over he drove himself into her, her hips rising with his thrusts. The waves that surged through her body earlier had returned and they threatened to wipe her out completely this time. “Slate,” she hissed. “Make me cum…” He growled deep in his throat and thrust faster and harder, feeling his own release starting to tingle at the base of his cock. “Yes, yes,” she moaned.
He grunted and shoved himself inside her pussy hard, feeling his climax overtake and his balls empty into her body. She inhaled sharply and then whimpered as the waves swept the reason from her mind through her orgasm. He collapsed on top of her, panting in her ear. “Oh god,” he breathed. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held him down against her. “I forgot it could be like that. What am I saying? It’s never been like that.” Her words tickled his ear and stroked his heart. She felt the sleepiness and exhaustion drift into her body and she let it flow until all thoughts of the bruises and the cuts and the fear had seeped out into nothingness.
Chapter Eight Several months later, Marie rolled over and smiled down at Slate’s sleeping face. Chris was a distant nightmare and Slate’s buddies had made sure that Chris understood it was over. Apparently the duration of the hospital stay had not been too long for him, but it had been just long enough for him to get the picture. Marie eased herself out of Slate’s bed and jumped into the shower. She had to meet the moving van at the storage unit in order to get her new apartment ready for living. The cool water soothed her skin and she ran her fingers lightly over the dark pink marks on her skin. Apparently while she had been straddling Slate’s throbbing cock the night before, he had raked his nails down her stomach. She grinned as the lines reminded her of the screaming orgasms he had given her. She was still amazed that after all this time, the feelings she had had for Howard had blended so effortlessly into the relationship she had developed with Slate. Despite the shaved scalp and leather clothing and multiple tattoos, he was actually still the same sweet soul she had known. It certainly had taught her a lesson in judging books by their covers. Even the people at work had commented on the change in her. Susan, the receptionist at work, just told her the other day that she was walking taller and that she had a beautiful smile. She had always been good at her job, but she had never imagined that a happy personal life could have even improved her work product. And while she still enjoyed her solitary lunches in the park with her books, she was less and less opposed to the occasional lunch invite from her colleagues. As she mused about her life, she felt a cool breeze
over her backside. She peeked over her shoulder and leered as a naked Slate joined her in the shower. “Good morning sexy,” she purred. “Good morning yourself.” Slate sidled up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his hands rest gently against her belly. “You sure you don’t want to just move in here with me?” he offered for the millionth time. “Yes baby, I’m sure. I just need to be on my own for a little while. You said you understood.” “I do. I do understand. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” She smiled and wriggled her ass against him. He swatted her firmly, “Stop that or you’ll miss the moving van.” She squirmed again and he pulled her backwards against his awakening cock. “Marie, you drive me crazy,” he whispered in her ear. She giggled and turned to kiss him deeply. His hands roamed over her wet skin and she contemplated surrendering to him as she felt him harden further. She slid one of her hands down her own stomach, gathering soap suds, and slid the lather over his cock. He groaned against her neck and thrust himself forward through the closed fist of her fingers. She slid her hand up and down his shaft firmly but slowly. Every time he tried to thrust faster, she pulled back. When he stopped pushing his hips against her hand, she closed in on him again. Her other hand reached down to gently tickle and massage his balls as he braced himself against the wall. Her fingers teased every sensitive ridge and vein, slowly drawing his desire up into need. She had quickly
learned everything that would get him hard and quaking and ready for release. He had even gently guided her through receiving pleasure. He leaned forward to sink his teeth into her neck. “Dammit woman,” he groaned. She grinned up at him and sped up her strokes but just when he thought he would lose control, she slowed back down and he groaned painfully. She baited him, slow then fast then back to slow until his knees almost buckled and he was panting for relief. He was so close that his balls ached and his cock throbbed at even just the touch of the shower spray. With one final motion, a move she had perfected in the last few months, of stroking and twisting simultaneously, he grunted her name and sprayed his seed onto her stomach. He took the soap from her and finished washing her down, making sure to linger in the each of the areas that would have her imagining his hands and mouth all day. Her nipples stiffened as he pinched them and her clit ached when he rubbed it. She felt her own slipperiness combining with the soap and was sorely tempted to postpone the move for another day. Just when she was about to give in to the temptation, he stopped quote washing unquote and rinsed her skin with an evil grin. “Just making sure you’ll be thinking of me…” “You are evil,” she whispered with a grin. “And I love it.” She hopped out of the shower to dry off. She threw her long blonde hair into a bobbing ponytail, and tossed on shorts and a tee shirt, and kissed him deeply as she headed out the door. Marie met the moving van at the storage unit and
sighed deeply as she flung open the garage style door. All of her earthly belongings had been stored here since she moved out of the house and filed for divorce. It really was not much in the material sense of the word, but it was all she had been interested in taking with her. Her book collection was first and foremost, followed by a few family items and some basic furniture. The moving men loaded the items and boxes quickly and they were on their way. She had been temporarily staying with Slate but knew that she did not want to rush into anything, and was excited to be living on her own for a while. After the moving van had emptied her belongings into the cute one bedroom apartment, she flopped down on the couch and surveyed her new home as it stood as a representative and a symbol of her new life. It was in obvious disarray but it already felt more freeing and more like home than that old house had ever felt. When she had ridden off with Slate that day a few months ago, before she even realized who he was, something in her had clicked. She still did not know if it clicked on or off, but that was part of the fun of figuring it out. She did not recognize it at the time, but there had been no returning to Chris after that. Slate had not motivated her to leave her husband; he simply showed her that there were other options in life. She still did not know if Slate was her forever guy, but he was certainly her wakeup call. She was looking forward to cooking for Slate in her new apartment and having him spend the night, to waking up to those fluffy delicious pancakes of his and eating them naked in bed with him. She laughed to herself at the thought of those prim and proper lawyers
from work seeing her pull up on the motorcycle for work someday. When she had mentioned Slate to Susan, the young receptionist had even given her a high five. She grinned to herself, and sliced open the first box. She was most looking forward to this moment, to putting that fabulous book collection of hers on display. THE END