Bring Me Home (3 page)

“Fine. You want to know all the gory little details?” He stormed close again and crushed her back against the table. “She sucked my dick. Hell yeah, I reacted. I was hot, ready because I thought it was you. Who else would be in my bed? But when her mouth was around me, it finally hit my beer-fogged mind. It wasn't your mouth, your scent, or even your throaty moan, or the way you sucked me.”

The erotic image he painted had her all but panting. “That doesn't change anything.”

“Because you ran away,” he growled. “You didn't even give me a chance to defend myself.”

The intensity of his stare and the hard press of his body sparked an avalanche-like response in her belly. Years of holding him accountable withered under the desire drenching her veins. If she didn't get ahold of her emotions, she was in trouble.

“Oh, please,” she muttered weakly. “Like you would have thought or believed anything different if the roles had been reversed.”

“I would have given you a chance to explain.”

“Spoken like someone who never had to deal with that kind of hurt.” She poked a finger against his chest. “I never would have let myself get in that situation. I would have known it wasn't you. You don't get to blame beer or Susan.”

“I blame myself.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I wish I could change the past.”

“But you can't.” At least that was the truth. “Neither can I. So let's leave it be.”

That should have been the end of it.

“No. I can't.” He lowered his head, his lips only a breath away. “You must have hated me.”

He was so close. It didn't matter what the past threw at them. She wouldn't stop him if he pressed closer… How could she when she wanted his kiss—and so much more? He'd always been her weakness.

“I think I still hate you,” she managed. She'd spent so much time trying to forget… How could his simple touch make her want what she'd left behind?

“No. There could never be hate between us. You want me right now, as much as I've wanted you all these years.” His hand slipped down, curving around her ass to pull her close. The hard length of his erection pushed into her belly. “You still want me.”

He slid his other hand up her throat and across her cheek to tap a finger to her temple. “Here.”

“No.” Her denial was weak, but she couldn't manage more. Not with his body pressed so intimately to her own.

His hand moved from her face down into her low-cut blouse to cup her breast. “And here.”

All she could do was shake her head.

He brushed a thumb over her lacy bra until her nipple stood rigid against his manipulation. After a moment of that torture he moved his hand over to cover her heart. “But mostly here.”

She bit back a cry of frustration. Damn him for knowing her. But New York had toughened her enough to fake it when she didn't know if she could make it. Instead of blurting something stupid, she pushed her pelvis against his cock and forced a harsh laugh to hide her confusion. “Well, you're right about one want.”

He growled, crushing the full length of his body against her until she had to lean back on the picnic table. “That's all you want from me?” His voice was harsh, gravelly as his hand slid under her skirt, tracing the sensitive inside of her thigh. “All you want is a good fuck? A way to remember the ol' days?”

“Yes. Now that you mention it.”

He pushed her legs apart, his thumb finding her clit through the thin fabric of her thong.

A muscle ticked in his taut jaw. “Then that's what you'll get.”

He reached for his belt buckle, his other hand closing around the back of her neck to drag her up for his kiss. And what a kiss it was. There was no gentle persuasion, no trace of the sweet, kind lover he used to be. It might have scared her from someone she didn't know, but from Shawn, it was the most erotic, powerful, demanding kiss she'd ever experienced.

His tongue dipped, played, teasing at once only to return to command her response. He sucked at her lips, rocking his hips against her in a rhythm that set her nerves on edge. The absolute possession of his kiss drove her mad.

Breaking away from his lips, she panted, trying to gain some semblance of control. He'd always set the pace. Not now. She pushed her hand down between their bodies and rubbed the length of his cock through his jeans. She was wet, drenched, and he needed to feel the same. His curse fueled her on, and she slid forward to lick at the skin exposed by the undone buttons at the top of his shirt.

“You've changed, Miya.”

With her free hand she slipped more buttons open on his shirt, licking and sucking at each inch of smooth, hot skin she uncovered. “How?”

“The city life has made you hard. You never used to just fuck me,” he breathed. “There was always some emotion with it.”

After tugging his shirt from his jeans, she slipped the last button free and slid slowly down his body. She dragged her hands over his chest, exhilarated by the feel of hard muscles under her hands. She wasn't going to let his words bother her. He didn't need to know the depth or myriad emotions filling her from being close to him again.

“So? I like having what I want.” It was okay to just enjoy this. Wasn't it? Just for a fleeting moment. To enjoy what used to be, and obviously still was. The smooth, corded ridges of his abs begged for her attention, and she focused on him, letting the nagging past seep away. She brushed her cheek and lips across his skin, following the light spattering of hair that tapered down to his jeans in delicious invitation. He had the most incredible body. “If you aren't up to it, I'm sure one of those guys inside would take your place.”

“No.” His hand fisted in her hair. “If your main goal is to get fucked, I'll be doing it.”

He'd unbuckled his belt in his anger but hadn't gotten any further. She looked up and licked her lips with a deliberately slow pass of her tongue. “You're game then?” With firm pressure, she slid her hand up the length of his hard cock and stopped at the zipper, waiting for his answer.

The deep green of his eyes was unreadable in the darkness. He stared at her for a long minute and then nodded. “Rules?”

Miya unzipped his pants and pushed them open. His cock sprang free, filling her hands. She stroked him, kept the pressure firm until he groaned and thrust his hips forward. Licking just the tip of his cock, she purred, “I take what I want, you get whatever you want. Caveat being, no emotion, no ties.”

Chapter Three

Whatever he might have said died on a strangled groan as she sucked the swollen head of his cock into her mouth. She pressed forward, surrounding him with her mouth until she couldn't take more. He was large, satisfyingly so. He tasted good too. His cock was smooth, warm and harder than hell. He was ready, and she wanted him.

His grip tightened in her hair, guiding her head as he thrust his hips forward. Moans of pleasure ripped from his throat as she sucked and licked. She controlled him, bringing him to pace, his hips jerking frantically against her mouth. His excitement fueled hers, and she hummed around the length of his rigid flesh.

“Stop, Mi.”

His strong hands guided her up and set her back on the table. He pulled her shirt down and his mouth closed over her breast the moment it was exposed. His tongue swirled around her nipple until it peaked and his fingers slid up between her thighs, pushing her skirt around her waist. Without releasing her breast, he guided her forward, rubbing his cock over the lace thong that still covered her. Her body heated in exponential proportions, playing out on waves of absolute hunger for what he had to offer.

She was wet, ready, and yet he didn't give her what she wanted. He teased instead, running both his cock and his fingers over her swollen clit through the thong. His expert manipulations drove her crazy until she writhed against his body. “Fuck me, Shawn.”

Releasing her breast, he smiled. It was a small, sensual smile that made her tremble. He didn't look away as he slid her thong to the side and flicked his thumb over her sensitive opening. “In a minute, baby. I want to see how bad you want me.” He looked down at her exposed body and rubbed again, this time with a bit more pressure. “You're so wet.”

She shivered, though the air around them was warm. His touch and erotic words drove her beyond control. The damp response of her body poured over his fingers as they slid into her with delicious rhythm. She cried out softly, encouraging him, begging for more.

She vaguely heard the soft rustle of the foil wrapper and silently thanked him for his control. In the limited moonlight, she watched as he sheathed his cock with the condom. She'd never found the use of a condom as erotic as she did in that moment. Knowing what he was going to do, what her body wept for…

She was ready to explode. She didn't know how much more she could take. Pulling at his shoulders, she brought him close. The hard press of his cock sent a jolt of sweet pleasure through her belly, burning every muscle and rippling along her spine. She needed him. Now.

Arching her bottom off the table, she pressed down on his cock. He gripped her hips tight, nipping her shoulder as he held her still, refusing to let her take more. He shifted his hips to dip the head of his cock in and out of her. Each time he withdrew, he rubbed over her sensitive clit before entering her again.

It was exquisite torture. His skillful manipulations brought her closer and closer to breaking. “Please,” she whimpered against his neck.

With a deep growl he slid her down farther on his rigid erection, nipping lightly at her breasts while sucking a nipple into his mouth. His tongue manipulated the hard peak, and the sensation, coupled with the hard strokes of his cock, undid her control.

She threw her head back as the first waves of release began. Just before it broke, he stopped, waiting. “Look at me.”

He didn't move. She was perched on the precipice of a staggering orgasm and he wanted to tease? She met his gaze. “Don't tease.”

With a strained smile, he gave over to her demands, inch by slow inch, sliding his cock into her until he was buried to the hilt. The sensation of his smooth flesh filling her, stretching until it almost seemed unbearable, made her pulse skip. Her body shook and she arched back, wanting to feel him moving in and out of her. She wanted him so bad it was agonizing.

Shawn pulled out of her hot pussy then plunged back in as hard as he could. He wanted to remain in control, but the exquisite caress of her body around him and her immediate response was too damn hot. The double hit was impossible to resist. Withdrawing again, he exhilarated in her cries for more. Intense satisfaction swam thick through his blood. Every inch of his cock swelled. His balls tightened, and the first jolts of pre-come slid free. He wouldn't last long at this rate.

But he wanted more than her body. He wanted her surrender. Wanted to know she still loved him. The fact that she'd witnessed Susan's deceit firsthand made her pain more real. He'd never understood her leaving like she had. He'd understood that she was a flight risk. He'd always accepted her fear of remaining in a small town, of never getting away.

He drove into her hard, punishing her.

Had he known, maybe things would be different.

But she'd run. She'd never given him the chance. His cock swelled.

Maybe four years without her never would have happened.

Damn her. All she'd had to do was trust him.

All she'd had to do was give him a chance.

Reaching down between their bodies, he kept her pinned firmly on his cock and rubbed at her clit. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

She shook her head and fisted her hand against his chest. Her breaths were shallow, the light catch in her words telling him she was close. “No emotion.”

“Impossible.” And God how he meant it.

She'd haunted every one of his nights for four years. He'd managed to flush her from his mind temporarily from time to time. An occasional night of too many beers, a quick tumble to assuage the libido. But he'd never managed to purge her from his psyche. Now she was here. Sliding over his cock, begging him to fuck her, as cold and hard as the copper forming the Statue of Liberty that graced her New York City life.

He set the rhythm, thrusting into her body until she begged him not to stop. Stroking her, he smiled when the first pulses of her orgasm began, gripping his cock with debilitating heat. She might have run away, become someone he didn't understand, but this… They had this. She was Miya Jackson, homegrown, and all the woman he'd ever wanted. For this moment, she was his again.

“That's it, baby. Let it go. I want to feel you shatter.”

He covered her mouth with his, taking her cries into his mouth as her body tightened, stiffened. Her legs trembled and then the spasms began. He slammed into her as her body milked his own release. The base of his cock tingled, and he matched the jerking of her hips until he came with staggering force.

He rode her orgasm to deliver every last shock. He didn't want her to think, feel or regret. He sucked at her lips, swollen from his kiss. In between, he whispered, “No ties, no emotion.”

When the last waves of the orgasms died, he pulled her up against his chest. Sliding from her body, he readjusted her thong, tugging her skirt into place before he fixed his own clothes. Her heavy breaths and sighs created a knot in his chest. She'd responded to him like a finely tuned instrument. Now that the dance was done, he braced for the aftereffects. Good or bad, it was impossible to resist touching her, and after brushing her hair back from her face, he smiled.

Heavy lids hid the thoughts he might have seen in her eyes. God, she was as beautiful as ever. More so than he remembered.

“Don't.” She shook her head and pushed him away.

“Don't what?” He stepped back, waiting for the explosion.

She jumped down from the picnic table and put even more distance between them. “That was incredible, really. It was what I needed and I can't say I'm sorry it was you.” She turned away, hugging her arms around herself. “But you can't look at me that way. No emotion means no emotion.”

“So this changes nothing?” Fuck. Had he said that out loud? And damn, were they actually going to have this conversation after what they'd just shared?

She didn't look back. “We can't change the past, and we can't wipe away four years of pain just because we had sex.”

He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Kissing her neck, he nodded against her soft skin. She smelled like he remembered. Vanilla with a hint of lilac. And now—their lovemaking. Nothing had changed about the way he felt, and tonight proved something still lingered inside her for what they'd had. She could fight it all she wanted. He didn't plan to let her walk away now that she'd come back into his life.

For a moment, he considered telling her he wasn't going to let her go without a fight. He knew better. That kind of admission would send her packing even faster. For now, the best he could do was be honest. “Then you better stay far away from me for the rest of your visit, baby. 'Cause it looks like I can't play by your rules.”

She nodded and pushed his arms away. “Then that's what I'll do. Goodbye, Shawn.” Without looking back, she hurried across the lawn and disappeared around the corner of the bar.

Shawn traced the dark spots on his shirtsleeve. Running his finger over the damp cloth, he smiled. Hell, tears certainly were a contradiction to her
no emotion
rule. Cleaning himself as best he could, he buckled his belt and picked his hat up from the ground. Flipping it around in his hand, he chuckled. When had it fallen off? Giving it a quick tap against his thigh, he shoved it on his head and glanced back at the bar. Miya and her friend were leaving. Neither of the women looked his way.

He wanted to go to her but decided it was just as well.

Tonight wasn't the time to convince Miya that they could rewrite their past. She'd run again with that deer-in-the-headlights look, and he was sure she'd buck any suggestion in the direction of staying.

But if what he'd heard was true, that Miya Jackson was only home for two days, that meant he had two days to make things right. One way or another, he'd do it. He'd let her run away once and pride had stopped him from going after her.

He wasn't about to make the same mistake again.