Boxed Set: Traitorous Heart Volumes 1-6 (The Traitorous Heart Series) (17 page)

Cage leaned in. I smelled his aftershave. It was subtle. I thought,
Yum
.

“That’s the sexiest damned outfit I’ve ever seen on a woman,” he whispered, even though we were alone.

“Whatever,” I said, lowering my head to hide the fact that his words had me blushing.

“Serious. My shorts and tank have never looked better.” His eyes grazed over my body. Slowly. Deliberately.

I pulled on the shorts. They were so baggy they almost looked like a skirt. The only reason they were still on was a string used to tie the waist tight.

“Sexy,” he reiterated.

I shook my head.
Whatever,
I thought.

The elevator reached the bottom and dinged, then opened. We walked through the beautiful yet simply decorated lobby. As with his apartment, the furniture was contemporary with small pops of color. Bright yellow chairs. Gray loveseats. A dark cherry wood desk. The man who told him his limo was ready said, “Have a good day, Mr. Devereux.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

It didn’t escape my notice that Sam shot a disapproving look my way as I walked by. He obviously didn’t think my outfit was sexy.

Cage pushed open the front door and we were out on the street. The morning had a cool bite to it and I reveled in the feeling against my skin. I breathed in, hoping the air would help me feel better. It wasn’t necessarily fresh, but I was out in the open, and that was good.

The limo driver waited at the curb. He was tall and older, maybe late fifties. His skin and hair were nearly the same color gray, but his hazel eyes seemed alert. He smiled at Cage, but sniffed arrogantly when I walked by.

“Am I taking you straight to the office?” he asked Cage.

“No. Guiss, I have a guest. We need to take her home first and then we’ll both go to the courthouse.”

“Very good, sir.” He closed the door behind us. Once he climbed inside, he asked, “What’s your address, miss?”

I told him.

Once we were moving, Cage shut the partition. I kept my gaze out the window. We were in Soho, near the West Village. It was über-trendy.

“That’s why I brought you home last night.”

“Huh?”

“You were too wasted to remember your address.” He gave a sideways smile. “You kept saying, ‘Your house is my house. Take me home, Cagey.’”

I snorted. “No way.”

He turned so I could see him more fully. “Yes, fucking way. You wanted me last night.”

I didn’t answer. Since I couldn’t know for sure, it was probably better that he didn’t share more about what I had or had not said.

“By the way, how you feeling?” Cage asked.

“Better,” I said, truthfully. The smelly concoction he’d made really helped.

“Told ya that stuff works. My granny swore by it.”

“Your granny does a lot of drinking, does she?” I asked, commanding my lips not to laugh. But it was funny seeing a big guy like Cage saying a word like
granny
.

“Yes, my granny did.” His lips twitched. “She could drink every woman and most men under the table.”

It didn’t slip past me that he’d used past tense. “I’m sorry,” I said, thinking it was sweet he’d learned to make a hangover drink from his granny.

“It’s alright. She’s been gone a while, but damn she was feisty.”

“She was?” I smiled.

“Fuck yeah. The woman had to deal with my grandfather, three sons and four grandsons.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of guys.”

“Yeah, and we were all military.”

“You were in the military?” That explained some things—like his super clean apartment, the way he kept his hair cropped so short, and his potty mouth.

“Yep. Just officially got out seven months ago. You got a problem with that?”

“Nope. Not at all.” I went back to staring out the window.

“Good thing. Is anyone in your family military?”

I snorted, unable to help the thought of my hippy dippy dad wearing a uniform. “No. My parents are the poster children for the seventies, if you catch my drift.”

“I see.”

The limo stopped in front of my brownstone. I ran upstairs like a bat out of hell. Cage said he’d get us breakfast and be back in thirty minutes. I’d have to use my “childhood hippy training” to get ready in that time.

CHAPTER 3

Griffin

I waite
d
for Katie at my apartment until the sun came up. She never showed. I had a feeling she’d been too drunk. Nancy, one of the waitresses working at The Attic last night, said she’d served “that girl” twelve shots.

Getting wasted didn’t seem like something Katie did on a regular basis, but I didn’t know her that well. After we finished our final set I’d gone to speak with her again, see if she wanted a ride to my apartment, but by that time she was all over Cage. To the guy’s credit he didn’t seem to be taking advantage of the situation.

But I still wanted to punch the prick in the face.

Thinking about what might’ve happened between the two of them had me pissed.  I took a deep breath. Getting mad wasn’t going to help the situation.

I fixed myself a bacon and cheese omelet and then took a shower. I let the hot water beat away the stress in my shoulders and neck. Visions of Katie and me in the bathroom at The Attic heated my insides. My cock hardened at the thought of my fingers inside her pussy, her juices all over my fingers. The way her mouth looked as she sucked my cock. I could’ve come inside her mouth. The effects of my orgasm dripping down her face would’ve been a sight. I thought about bending her over, seeing my juices drip from her pussy, down her leg.

“Fuck.”

I wanted her worse than I’ve ever wanted anyone.

And I made a decision. I rinsed and shut off the water, then dressed and took my limo to Katie’s house. There was already a limo parked out front, but I wasn’t to be deterred. I was still sporting a mother fucking hard on. Either Katie and I would have round two or she’d tell me to get lost.

I yanked open the door to her brownstone so hard it rattled, then I pressed the button to her apartment.

After several seconds, she answered. “I’m nearly done. You can come up and wait.”

I didn’t know who she thought she opened the door for, but I didn’t bother to correct her. I walked up the several flights to her apartment. The door was open.

I still knocked.

“Come in.”

I did. Shut the door and locked it. I would tell her at some point that she needed to be more careful.  There was a murderer loose, and he or she knew Katie had been the fiancé of their latest victim. It was likely they’d come after her next. 

Her apartment was cute. Small. Eclectic. I figured a lot of that had to do with Birdy’s tastes.

“Give me ten minutes,” she said from down the hall.

I went past the quaint kitchen on one side and the living room on the other and saw there were two bedrooms on the right of the hall and a bathroom at the end.

She faced sideways, probably looking in the mirror. She wore a long, thick pink robe. It covered everything and then some, but just imagining what she did or didn’t have on under it caused the bulge in my pants to grow.

“Katie,” I said.

CHAPTER 4

Griffin

She turned
,
obviously expecting someone else. In the hand farthest from the entry she held some kind of iron, probably to straighten her hair. 

“Griffin,” she whispered, the iron slipping from her hand and crashing to the floor. She jumped back, letting out a yelp.

I quickly ran down the hall. She bent over to pick up the iron, her luscious ass facing my direction. My cock responded.

God, I wanted her. Wanted to bury my cock deep inside her core. Feel her tight pussy around my shaft. I gently grabbed her hips. “Don’t move.”

A slight shudder ran the length of her body. My cock throbbed, ached for her.

“Nothing happened between Cage and I,” she whispered.

I hadn’t realized the question was on my tongue, but as soon as she said the words, relief washed over me.

“I’m going to take you right here, right now, Katie Jayne.” I pulled her against my cock, allowing her to feel the bulge, the need. She moaned, rubbing her ass against the front of my pants.

That was all the agreement I needed.

I lifted her robe. She had on a white thong. It barely covered her hairless pussy and I groaned. Then I kneeled, putting my face directly in line with her beautiful ass.

She glanced back to see what I was doing. I playfully bit one cheek. Her eyes went dark. “Spread your legs.”

She sucked on her lower lip, nodding, doing as I asked. The white thong pulled to one side, giving full access to her slit.  Her lips parted, revealing her delicious well. Juices lined the edges. The beauty of her nearly sent me over the edge.

I adjusted myself, then ever so slowly sank my tongue inside her pussy.

“Griff,” she moaned, arching her hips.

I dove deep inside, one thumb massaging her clit, my tongue driving in and out of her, fucking her pussy and tasting her at the same time.

Her muscles tensed and I knew her orgasm was building. I loved that I could make her come so easily. I reached inside her robe, feeling her breast over the bra.

“Feels so good,” she said.

“That’s it, Katie. Come. Let me taste your cherry-flavored orgasm.”  I brought my other hand to her ass, caressing her smooth skin.

She moved in rhythm with my tongue. Her breathing came in jagged bursts. And then she cried out as her body shuddered its release.

“I can’t stand up anymore,” she said, falling to her knees.

“Your bed,” I ordered, helping her back to her feet. She directed me to the cleaner of the two rooms. Her bedroom was small, but neat. The bed was barely big enough for one person. I tugged off her robe, undid her bra and slid off her panties. “Lay down and stick a finger inside your pussy while you rub your clit. Then taste yourself.”

That surprised her. While I got undressed I wanted her to stay hot, to stay ready. “Go on. I want to watch.”

Serious, she laid back, her beautiful brown hair spreading like a fan against her white pillowcase. She spread her legs, pressing her index finger deep inside. With the thumb of her other hand, she rubbed her clit.

“That’s it. In and out. Fuck yourself.” Watching made me burn with desire.  I quickly shed my clothes, granting my cock its freedom. Once I was naked I climbed on the bed and kneeled between her legs. She pulled her finger from her pussy. It glistened with juices. I took it into my mouth. Sucking. “Two fingers this time.”

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes hooded. She was so fucking hot. Katie put her first and middle finger inside herself.

“Make yourself come,” I said, my breathing jagged.

“Are you sure?” she asked,

I stroked my cock. “Yes.”

She kept her eyes open, flicking her gaze from my face to my hand on my shaft.

“I’ve never watched a guy to that to himself.”

“No? Does it bother you?” I realized I had no idea what kind of sexual person she was. Not really.

She shook her head. “I think it’s fucking hot.”

I groaned. “Taste yourself.”

She kept massaging her clit as she pulled her fingers out and put them in her mouth.

“Suck them hard. Clean them off with your tongue.”

I watched, so fucking turned on. Her sweet pink tongue lapped up her pussy juices and I nearly came. “Now put them back in your pussy and fuck yourself until you come.”

She complied, spreading her legs so that she could get them in deep.  As her orgasm built, she switched from using her thumb to her fingers to massage her clit. He breathing got faster. She spread herself more open.

“Fuck, Katie.”

She was nearly there.

“That’s it. Soak your fingers.”

She cried out, her whole body shaking with orgasm. 

I leaned over and kissed her clit, then ran my tongue up and down her slit and dipped inside. Then positioned myself to enter her. I brushed the tip of my cock against her wet opening, barely pushing in.

She moaned, arching into my cock.

I turned my focus to her face. She watched, her features as lusty as mine.

“I want you inside,” she said.

I groaned at her forcefulness. “With pleasure.” I leaned over so that we were face to face, then pushed inside slowly, allowing my cock to fill her. “God you feel good.” I kissed her, hard, shoving my tongue in her mouth. She met my passion with her own. Our tongues twined in ferocious abandon.

Both of her hands grabbed hold of my ass. Breaking our kiss, I made my way down to her breasts, flicking each nipple until they stood at attention.