Primal Instinct (24 page)

“I love how you taste,” she breathed in a husky voice, her lips moving against his as she spoke. “And I want to taste all of you.”

“Fuck, yes.”

With a sweet smile, she sank gracefully to her knees. She looked up at him through her lashes, her blue eyes slightly hooded and dark with lust. Without a word, she undid his pants, the metallic zip echoing in the kitchen as she lowered his fly, and then she slipped his cock and balls through the fly of his boxer briefs. The fact that they were both still fully dressed with only his massive erection and heavy, quickly tightening balls protruding from his pants was a hell of a turn-on.

Her eyes locked with his as she wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and licked the clear bead of moisture from his swollen head. She hummed out her approval. “So good.”

His hands found their way into her golden waves, holding her hair back from her face in loose fistfuls. She dipped her head slightly, sucking one of his balls into her mouth and swirling her tongue lightly over it before releasing it and tracing her tongue up the underside of his shaft in one long, slow lick.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” he whispered. She slicked her tongue over her palm and stroked him, just once, and then pressed the head of his cock against her lips. Just when he thought the visual couldn't get any more perfect, she smiled and enveloped him in the wet heat of her mouth. He fought the urge to tip his head back and close his eyes, because he needed to watch every single second of Taylor on her knees with his throbbing cock in her mouth. She teased the head, swirling her tongue over it, sucking it, pressing it against the inside of her cheek. The pleasure of it, hot and intense, was tearing him into little pieces, shredding him from the inside out until he had to remind himself to breathe. She pulled back, stroking him a few times, slicking the moisture from her mouth over him. Heat pulsed low in his gut, electric tension radiating through his muscles and across his skin.

“I love how you feel in my mouth,” she murmured. He'd been about to reply with something dirty and encouraging but was only able to let out a long, low groan as she filled her mouth and throat with his pulsing dick, taking him far, far deeper than he'd have guessed she could. Wet heat engulfed him, her mouth deliciously tight around him. She anchored her hands on his hips and began bobbing her head in a sure, steady rhythm.

He fought the urge to move his hips, but as though she could sense what he needed, she moaned and picked up her pace. His vision narrowed, almost fading in and out at times. Probably because his eyes were on the verge of rolling back into his head.

“Fuck, Taylor,” he managed, his hands tightening their grip in her hair. “Your mouth feels so damn good. Holy shit.”

She slowed her rhythm and looked up at him, her blue eyes bright with lust and arousal. God, she was enjoying it, and fuck if that didn't make what was already the hottest blow job of his life even hotter. When she looked up at him like that, his cock filling her pretty mouth, he felt like a fucking god. A god who would do anything for her.

His balls tightened with a sharp, sweet twinge, and he knew he was going to come soon. Very soon. Searing pleasure radiated from his balls and up his cock, intensifying with each sweep of her mouth up and down his shaft. Pressure built, an incredible sensation of fullness swelling his cock almost to the bursting point.

“Taylor, I'm gonna come, so if you don't want…” His voice was hoarse and shaky, but it didn't matter. He wasn't able to finish his thought because she sucked him hard and deep, and he hit the point of no return. All other sensation in his body dropped away, and his entire existence narrowed to his cock.

He ground out her name as he felt the first intense throb of his orgasm blast through him. With his hands wound tightly in her hair, he came hard, pulsing his release into her beautiful mouth. With half-open eyes, he watched her swallow down everything he had, knowing the moment would be forever burned into his brain.

She slowed her movements, giving him a few seconds to ride it out. A heavy numbness invaded his limbs, his dick warm and tingling from the release. With an adorable, self-satisfied smile, she tucked him back into his pants and stood, smoothing her hands down the front of her shirt. Hoping he could trust his legs to support him, he pushed off the counter and circled his arms around her waist, pulling her into him and kissing the soft, warm skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“That was fucking incredible. Thank you.”

She pulled back and smiled, biting her lip. “You can pay me back later.”

“Trust me, it's at the top of my to-do list.” He pressed his face into her neck, trailing kisses across her throat. “
You
are a very naughty girl, and I fucking love it.”

“Mmm. Maybe I need to be spanked.”

He spun her around and leaned her over the counter, his hands dropping to her ass. He caressed the supple flesh and then roughly squeezed, a hand on each cheek. “You're trying to kill me, aren't you?” Because despite the intense orgasm he'd just had, he was beginning to stir in his jeans at the thought of bending her over and marking the pale flesh of her sweet little ass with his hand print. Marking his territory and claiming it for his own.

“But you'll die such a happy man,” she said, pressing her ass against his hands.

“God, you've ruined me for other women.” He meant it as a joke, but his heart stuttered, tripping over itself, stopping and then restarting with a jolt as the truth of that statement washed over him.

“Good.” She drew in close, her breath hot on his ear as she wound her arms around his neck. “I don't want there to be any other women. Only me.”

“There aren't; only you. No other men?”

She pressed her forehead against his and shook her head. “Only you. I only want you.”

Even with a gun to his head, he couldn't have stopped his wide smile from surfacing. “You and me, gorgeous. It's you and me.”

She sighed, and he felt a tremor pass through her. “I really like how that sounds.”

“No one else. Just you and me.” He cupped her face, tracing his thumbs over her cheekbones. When he kissed her, he tried to pour everything good that was filling him up into the kiss. Everything he was too scared to voice. The hope. The happiness.

The feeling that maybe he'd found home.

T
ell me something you've never told anyone before.” Taylor pressed her face into Colt's chest, breathing in the clean cotton scent of his T-shirt. He pulled the blanket tighter around them and slid a hand up and down her back. She tilted her head slightly, pulling the fresh, cool air into her lungs as she took in the star-speckled night, thousands of stars hanging in the dusky indigo sky, spread like diamonds against velvet.

LA's night sky was blank, void. A nothing sky. But here, looking at the thousands of stars with Colt, it felt as though the sky hanging above them held everything. Beauty and promises and love. Everything good and pure, twinkling back at them. It was their sky, the two of them together.

They'd grabbed pillows and a blanket and climbed up onto the cabin's flat roof, something that had quickly become part of their nightly routine. They'd lie on the roof and watch as the sky darkened and the stars switched on, talking about anything and everything. Every night, she learned new things about him, and it only made her hungry for more. He was like a map of a new, uncharted continent; she was exploring and slowly discovering all of his hills and rivers, his oceans and borders, and filling his map as she learned new and amazing things. What made him laugh, what made him moan, what annoyed him.

But even more, it was the little things. Like that he preferred jam on his pancakes instead of syrup. Or that his first celebrity crush was on Cameron Diaz. And that he was really, really good at beer pong. That his biggest regret was that he hadn't gone to college. That if he had gone, he would've maybe liked to be a teacher. She took it all in with a voracious hunger, wanting everything he'd give her.

And then there was last night, where, as they'd lain in each other's arms, he'd confessed that he pictured himself with kids someday, even though he wasn't sure he'd be very good at it. She hadn't trusted herself to say anything, hadn't trusted her voice to even work, so instead she'd just kissed him, slowly and tenderly, trying to show him that she wanted that, too, for herself and for him. Trying to show him that she understood how he felt, because she had the same damn reservations about herself. But maybe, with the two of them, it could work. Being with him was easy, because her broken pieces fit perfectly with his, and when she was with him, she actually liked who she was.

“Something I've never told anyone before?” he asked, and she nodded against him. The lake lapped quietly at the shore, the blackened tops of the pine trees poking up into the sky. “A happy thing, or…something else?”

“How about one of each?”

His chest rose and fell underneath her cheek, and she trailed her hand over his stomach, which was hard and firm, waiting quietly while he thought of an answer. He cleared his throat softly before answering. “Sometimes, I don't understand why I'm here. Why I—out of all the guys I fought with—why I'm the one who made it back. Some of those guys died because of me, because it was up to me to protect them and I failed. Guys who had a hell of a lot more to come home to than I did. Girlfriends and wives. Parents who loved them. Babies. Futures.”

Her arms tightened around him, this man who was so strong, so brave, and who carried so much pain around.

He continued, his voice rumbling over her. “I feel so damn guilty that I'm just here, alive, breathing, when those guys aren't. I don't…it hurts, sometimes, Taylor. It's too much, and when I start to really think about it, I just…I can't. I don't deserve to be alive any more than they deserve to be dead.”

“You deserve to be alive,” she whispered. “You do, Colt.” She raised herself up onto one elbow and kissed him, wanting to comfort him, to take some of his pain and help him carry it.

When she pulled back, he smiled, cupping her cheek with one, big strong hand. “You keep telling me that, and I might start believing you.”

“Good.” Their eyes met, and something passed between them, shimmering like the stars surrounding them.

“Your turn. Tell me something that you've never told anyone before.”

“You never told me your happy thing.”

He wound a lock of her hair around his finger. “I'll tell you after. Spill.”

She sighed and laid her head back down on his chest, loving how perfectly she fit against his strong, sturdy body. How safe she felt in his arms, his heartbeat pulsing against her, seeping into her skin. “You're gonna laugh at me. It's stupid.”

He tipped her chin up and kissed her. “I won't, and I bet it's not. Tell me.”

“I'm not the kind of girl who grew up planning her wedding. But I've always thought, if I ever do get married, that I want to go to the Little White Wedding Chapel in Vegas.”

He pulled her tighter against him. “With Elvis and everything?”

She nodded. “And I want to walk down the aisle to ‘Can't Help Falling in Love with You.'”

He kissed the top of her head. “Didn't peg you for an Elvis fan.”

“My grandpa—my mom's dad—was. He looked after me sometimes when I was little, and whenever we drove anywhere in his big boat of a car, there was always an Elvis cassette playing.” She took a breath. “He died when I was nine. Heart attack. Sometimes, when I think about my fucked-up family, I try to remember him, and that maybe there's something good in me.”

“Gorgeous, there's a lot of good in you. You're smart, and talented, and strong. You're funny and beautiful. That's a hell of a lot more than just good.”

She inhaled sharply, trying to get her erratic heart under control. “Tell me the happy thing you've never told anyone before.”

He looked down at her, the starlight highlighting his cheekbones and the chiseled planes of his gorgeous face. “I'm falling for you, Taylor. Hard and fast, and I don't want to stop.”

Her heart stopped completely and she pulled him down, their mouths crashing hungrily together. Her fingers went immediately to his belt buckle, needing more than anything to have him inside her, to wrap his body with hers and never let him go.

His tongue stroked hers, and with his belt buckle and fly open, he came down on top of her. Her legs wound around his waist, and she pushed up into him, desperate for more.

“Show me, Colt. Make me feel it,” she whispered against his mouth, and he rose up just enough to push his pants and boxers down. She shimmied out of her jeans, gasping out a sighing moan as he came back down on top of her, his hard cock sliding against the insides of her thighs.

“I want to show you everything, Taylor. I want to give you everything.” He pulled a condom from the back pocket of his jeans and rolled it on. She could've sworn that his hands were trembling. He lined himself up at her entrance, already slick and aching for him. She seemed to be in a perpetual state of semi-arousal around him. “Look at me,” he said, his voice low and rough, and she tore her eyes away from his cock. She met his gaze, and everything in her went completely still.

His eyes glittered and held hers as he slowly pushed into her. “It's you and me, gorgeous. Always.” He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her, hard and deep. She dug her fingers into his scalp and wrapped her legs tightly around his pumping hips, holding him close with her body. With her heart. Taking everything he had to give and letting it fill her up like gold, warm and pure.

“I love you,” she whispered, but the words were lost against the night breeze and the sounds of their bodies coming together.

Frank spit out a mouthful of blood and glared up at Jonathan Fairfax, who wiped his hands on a white handkerchief.

“What are we going to do about this, Frank? Hmm? You don't have the money you owe us. You stole our drugs. Now, I know that I can't get blood from a stone, but you understand that I can't just let this slide, right?” Fairfax paced the small room, shaking his head. “What kind of message would that send, if I let someone who stole from me, someone who couldn't pay his debts, just walk, no consequences?”

Frank didn't answer, knowing that Fairfax didn't really want to have a fucking conversation.

“We tried to talk to your daughter, but that didn't work out so well. Now three of my guys are in jail, and she ran off somewhere to hide.”

“What do you want, Fairfax? Spit it the fuck out already.”

“Well, I want my money. You don't have it, but your daughter does. So you'll need to figure out a way to get it from her. Here's a little preview, on the house, of what you can expect if I don't get my money.” He tipped his head at someone behind Frank. A huge man holding a sledgehammer emerged, smiling grimly at Frank.

The sledgehammer swung down, and Frank screamed.

The sound of knocking woke Colt out of a sound sleep, and he rolled to his feet, grabbing his SIG from the bedside table. He yanked on a pair of boxers and then stood still, listening. He glanced over at Taylor, still asleep, her golden hair spilling out across the pillow.

The knocking sounded again at the front door, and he quickly pulled on sweat pants and a T-shirt. He glanced at Taylor again before opening the bedroom door, pulling it slowly to avoid making a sound.

Flipping on lights as he walked through the silent cabin, his SIG tucked into the waistband of his sweats, he slowed as he approached the front door. He glanced through the peephole, staring at the man on the other side. He was midforties, plain looking, wearing a pair of jeans and an old USC sweatshirt. Colt unlocked the front door and opened it, resetting the alarm as he stepped outside.

“Can I help you?” asked Colt, his voice rough with sleep.

The man nodded. “I'm so sorry to bother you, but my car broke down and my cell phone's dead. I was hoping you'd have a phone I could use.” He glanced up and down the deserted road. “You're the third cabin I've tried. The others seem to be empty, and I'm kind of stuck here.”

Colt narrowed his eyes, glancing between the house and the man's car, which sat on the side of the road, the hood propped open. A creeping sensation prickled up his spine, and he crossed his arms in front of him.

“Don't have a phone, but I can take a look at your car for you. Might be able to get you going.” He tipped his head in the direction of the man's car, not wanting him near the house, or Taylor. Just wanting him gone.

The man smiled. “I'd appreciate that. Thank you.”

They started down the driveway, and Colt studied him, on high alert for anything suspicious. “Where you headed?”

“Not far. I'm supposed to be meeting some friends for the weekend. Took a wrong turn, ended up on the wrong side of the damn lake. Next thing I know, car dies on me.”

Colt tipped his head, relaxing slightly the farther he got the man from the house. His brother-in-law had a small toolshed near the end of the driveway, and Colt stopped there to grab a toolbox and a flashlight. The man made idle conversation about the weather and how nice it was up here, away from the city. When they arrived at the man's car, Colt leaned forward, bracing his hands on the front fender as he took a look.

The man shifted behind him, and the hairs on the back of Colt's neck stood on end. He spun to face him, just in time to see the man swing a heavy wrench at him. It connected with Colt's temple, and he slumped against the car, his vision fading around the edges. Gritting his teeth, he started to reach for his gun, but the man swung again, and darkness fell.