Size Matters (Handcuffs and Happily Ever Afters) (26 page)

“Can I tell you some things?” I asked, leaning my head into his hand.

“Please do.”

“I have some trust issues.” I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his hand in my hair and continued. “My dad disappeared when I was young and I haven’t gotten a male-female relationship right since. I thought I wanted what I never had . . . you know, a husband who came home every night and a white picket fence and two point five children, but . . .”

“But?”

I opened my eyes and stared into his. “But I want you . . . and it scares me to death.”

His quick intake of breath and the tightening of his hand in my hair thrilled me to my toes. “Do you believe in things you can’t see all the time?” He watched me with an intensity that unnerved me.

“Like Bigfoot?” I giggled, needing to lighten the electric current running between us.

“Ookay,” he grinned. “That would work.”

“I believe in the possibility,” I said, quoting my beautiful friend Rich.

“Then I need you to believe in the possibility of us. I may not be with you all the time, but I will love you no matter where I am.”

Something snapped and my eyes filled with tears. A wall inside me semishattered with his words.

“Will you let me come home with you?” he asked.

I held my breath and closed my eyes. I knew what the next words out of my mouth were going to be and I knew once I uttered them, there was no going back. I took a deep breath and slowly opened my eyes. The big beautiful man in front of me looked like a vulnerable little boy.

“I will always let you come home with me, Mitch. Always.”

R
iding fast on a motorcycle wrapped around my own Prince Charming was a damn good way to spend the evening. We rode around the outskirts of Duluth for about an hour at speeds that made me shriek with joy. I was flying and it was magical. Absolutely perfect.

Back at the lodge, Mitch parked his motorcycle and I dragged him down to the washing machine. Thankfully, I remembered I needed to switch my clothes from the washer to the dryer. I would hate to wear wet panties in the morning. Going commando, while kind of sexy, was not really my idea of a good time. That took thirty-seven minutes. Two of those minutes consisted of the clothing transfer and the other thirty-five involved making out like horny teenagers.

“We’re going to get busted out here,” Mitch mumbled with his lips planted firmly against my neck and his hands making their way inside the back of my jeans.

“Let’s go to my room,” I gasped as his teeth nipped lightly at my neck.

He took an unsteady step back and narrowed his eyes. “I’ll race you.”

“No way,” I giggled. “You’ll kick my ass.”

“I’m at a slight disadvantage here,” he said, referring to the impressive bulge in his jeans.

I considered my options while staring at the front of his pants.

“You’re making it harder by looking,” he chuckled.

“Really?” I was loving the power I had.

“Yep. Really.”

“Can I have a head start?” I asked, hopping off the washer.

He leaned forward, trapping me against the machines. “If I win, I make the rules tonight,” he said softly, making me shudder in anticipation.

“And if I win?” I challenged.

“You won’t.”

“We’ll just have to see about that,” I whispered, running my hand over what had to be a painful erection at this point.

He closed his eyes and groaned. I was nobody’s dummy. I slipped away and got my head start . . . and I still lost. Of course, the situation was a win-win as far as I was concerned, so I didn’t give a monkey’s butt about losing.

I almost broke the key off in the door. We couldn’t get in there fast enough, but when we did it got weird.

“So, um . . . can I get you something to drink?” I asked, all of a sudden feeling shy. Why in the hell was I shy? He was just touching my naked butt and I’d latched onto his package like I owned it.

“No, I’m good,” he said, sitting on the desk that was still by the foot of my bed from the poker game last night. The thing weighed a ton and I couldn’t move it back.

“That’s good,” I giggled, “because I don’t actually have anything to offer you.”

He grinned and ran his hands through his hair. He seemed as uncomfortable as I did. “I like the way you’ve rearranged the room,” he said, watching me flit around the small space.

“Oh, the girls were over last night and we played a little poker,” I told him, explaining the odd setup. “I couldn’t get it back over to the wall.” I shrugged and sat on one of the folding chairs that Edith had forgotten to retrieve.

“Allow me.” Mitch pushed the desk back to the wall as if it weighed nothing. I’d bet five bucks he could bench press me. “How’d it go?”

“What?”

“The game. Did you win?”

“Nope,” I laughed. “They cheated and I sucked.”

“Did you lose a lot?” He sat down on the edge of my bed and pulled my chair close. As awkward as this was, I couldn’t help but notice he was still sporting something very hard in his pants.

“No, I didn’t lose money. What I lost could possibly make me lose my mind, but I’ll just have to wait and see.”

He waited for more, but it was too complicated to share right then. He slowly leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine. I closed my eyes and breathed him in.

“Why is this weird?” I whispered into his mouth.

He was very still for a moment and then sat back and stared straight into my soul with those damn blue eyes. “Maybe because neither one of us has made love with someone that we were truly in love with,” he said in a low gruff voice that sent all sorts of unfamiliar feelings ricocheting through my body.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have sex tonight.” I kicked off my tennis shoes and removed my socks.

“You’re probably right.” He stood up and quickly removed his own boots and began unbuttoning his jeans.

“We should take it slow.” I grinned and pulled my T-shirt over my head. I got discombobulated as I watched him ease his shirt off. His rock-hard abs were movie star worthy and the crisp sprinkling of dark chest hair that tapered down to a sexy V right below the waistband of his jeans made me dizzy.

“It’s an interesting concept.” His eyes were hooded as he slid his jeans off. His white boxer briefs hid nothing and my wisp of silk panties were now soaked. This was the most intense nontouching foreplay I’d ever had.

“We’re being very adult about this,” I told him, easing off my chair as I yanked off my jeans, leaving my barely there light pink thong and matching lacy bra on. “Would you like to play poker?” I giggled.

“Strip?”

“Well, considering the amount of clothing, or rather, lack thereof... it would be a fairly short game.”

“True,” he said, approaching me like a starving animal stalking its prey.

Wanting to add flames to the building inferno, I backed away. His eyes flashed and his grin knocked the air right out of my chest.

“What are you doing, Kristy?” His voice held a hint of danger in it that weakened my knees and set off fireworks in my panties.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, drawing my bottom lip into my mouth.

“Oh, I think you do.”

The room was so charged with sexual energy, I thought I was going to have an orgasm merely from the way he was looking at me. God, was it going to get better and better each time with him? I wasn’t sure I could live through much better. Although, I suppose dying from a massive orgasm would be a good way to go.

Speak . . . I needed to speak. I was close to passing out or even worse, having an embarrassing screaming orgasm all by myself right in front of him. Words . . . use words. Fucktard, I could barely remember how to talk . . .

“You’re supposed to make the rules,” I stammered, backing into the wall. “You won the race.”

“Yep.” He stilled, enjoying the fact I had nowhere to run. I was firmly trapped between the wall and the bed. I’d maneuvered that one nicely . . .

“So what are they?” My heart was hammering in my ears. I wondered if he really had handcuffs.

“There are no rules,” he said, moving into my space. “Because this isn’t a game. This is real.”

Oh. My. God. Of all the things he could have said, I was not prepared for that. My knees buckled and I fell to the bed. He was on me so fast I didn’t even see him move.

“Take off your bra,” he demanded in a tone that made me shiver. I quickly flicked the front clasp and released my aching breasts. He gently took one of my painfully erect nipples into his mouth and lightly nipped. My hissed intake of breath made him chuckle. “You like that?”

“Yes,” I ground out through clenched teeth, arching my back and offering more of myself to him.

“God, you are so fucking beautiful.” His mouth found my other breast and his hands worshipped my body until I thought I would burst.

“Mitch, I need . . .” I gasped. “Oh God.”

“What do you need, baby?”

“I need you,” I whimpered.

“What do you need me to do?” His hot breath in my ear flew to all the nerve endings south of my belly button.

“I need you to fuck me,” I gasped, writhing underneath him.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his eyes wild. He ripped my thong from my body and kicked out of his boxer briefs. “I can’t wait,” he said, roughly parting my legs and pushing his body into mine.

“Neither can I,” I moaned, wrapping my legs around his back and lifting my hips to take more of him inside me.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned, trying to hold back.

“I like a little pain,” I whispered with my lips against his neck.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned and buried himself to the hilt.

I think I screamed, but I was too far gone to know what came out of my mouth. For all I knew I was speaking in tongues or possibly Russian. My body was on fire and I met every mind-blowing thrust with a force and passion that only Mitch could draw out of me. His kisses were hard and searching. I laced my fingers through his hair and pulled. His lips seared a path down my neck to the spot on my shoulder that made me see God.

He raised his head and sank his fingers into my hair. Resting his weight on his elbows, he slowed his pace from frantic to slow burn, burying himself in and out of my body at a lazy speed that made waves of electricity throb through me.

“Look at me,” he said in a gruff voice. “Watch me while I fuck you. Watch what you do to me.”

I melted into him. This was so much more than sex. It fundamentally changed me . . . rearranged my atoms or something crazy like that. I gasped for air as his fingers burned into my hips, holding me the way he wanted me. The sounds coming from me were unfamiliar and my nails raked his back. I couldn’t get close enough. And his eyes . . . he sucked me into a place that I never wanted to leave.

I was racing toward something I was sure I wouldn’t live through, but I was hell-bent on getting there. “Mitch,” I cried out. “Faster . . . please, God, faster.”

His laugh of pure masculine satisfaction made everything inside me tighten. I gripped the thick length of him with my body; he swore and raised his eyes to the ceiling. All bets were off and all control was gone. I was on the scariest, most exhilarating ride of my life and there was no going back. He pounded into me with a speed and force that made me see stars. I bit down on his neck to muffle my screams . . . and then I exploded. Shattered into a million pieces. I vaguely heard him shout his release as I slowly floated back to earth.

“Oh my God,” he muttered, refusing to let me put even an inch between us. “I think I just became one with Jesus.”

“I know I did,” I giggled and ran my tongue over his collarbone. “I guess really digging somebody does make it better.”

He slid out of my body and took my face in his hands. “Really digging? Is that all?”

“Um . . . no. That’s not all,” I said quietly.

“Say it.”

“I love you,” I whispered. His crooked grin made my heart flutter and I tried to bury my face in his chest.

“No hiding,” he said. “I love you too.”

I nestled into his arms and realized I fit perfectly. He stroked my hair and slowly rattled off what he liked best about my body parts . . . all of them.

“You have to shut up.” I was mortified and tried to roll away. It was embarrassing to listen to him talk about my tight wet lady parts when we weren’t in the middle of a fuck-a-thon.

He tightened his grip and laughed. “You make me so happy, and I’m not just talking the sex.”

“I wish this moment didn’t have to end,” I sighed, “but it does.”

We were silent for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. I ran my hands over his chest and shoulders, trying to memorize the way he felt beneath my fingertips.

“It won’t always be like this,” he muttered into my hair.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to give you everything you want . . . I want you to have your white picket fence and your twelve point five kids and your . . .”

“Twelve point five?” I gasped. “I never said twelve point five. I said two point five.”

“Oh, you’re kidding. I was sure you said twelve point five,” he teased. “I guess it was just wishful thinking. I always wanted my own football team.”

“Two.” I punched him in the shoulder. “I said two point five.”

“Anyhoo,” he said grinning, “I want to give you . . .”

“Shhh.” I put my finger over his lips. “I don’t want you to give up anything for me. I love you like this. I could never give up my shelter for someone . . . it makes me who I am.”

“But . . .”

“No buts.” I rolled on top of him and looked him in the eye. “Part of who you are is what you do and I want you . . . all of you.” I leaned in and pressed my open lips to his and told him with my body all the things I’d just said with my voice.

“You’re mine, Kristy,” he whispered against my lips. “And I’ll be back soon.”

“When?”

“Soon.” He shook his head in frustration. “Goddamn it, I want to tell you about what I do . . . but I can’t.” He blew out an angry breath and held on to me like I was going to disappear.

“It’s okay. You don’t have any idea of half of the stuff I’m doing,” I said, thinking about my bizarre group of friends and the unsettling way the reality show was turning out.

“I know you’re searching for Bigfoot with the lesbians, the gal who rearranges noses, and a big fat guy with bad teeth.”

I sat up and stared at him. “How do you know all that? I didn’t tell you that.” Did I? God, if I did, I didn’t remember.

“Rena,” he said quickly. “You must have told Rena, and Jack told me.”

“Oh.” I nodded. I didn’t recall talking about Rich’s teeth to Rena, but clearly I had. “They’re actually all good people. Strange, but good.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” he said, pulling me back down and nibbling on my ear.

“Is your case in this area?” I asked. “Wait, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t want you to be afraid to ask me anything. I will always tell you what I can and yes, my case is in this area.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“I hope not,” he said. “I truly hope not.”

I curled up next to him as close as I could get. The thought of something happening to him was unacceptable. He was mine and I was keeping him. “You have to promise me you’ll be careful. I want my three point five kids.”

“I thought it was two,” he chuckled.

“I changed my mind,” I giggled and decided I would hold on tight until he had to go.