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Authors: Sylvia Ryan

Being Emerald (12 page)

BOOK: Being Emerald
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He never wanted her to leave his side. She belonged to him. And owned him. It was too late for her now. She wanted in, and she’d gotten in.

Standing naked before him, she communicated her unease with her expression. She almost looked panicked as he lowered his hand and nudged her lower lips apart. He found the string to her tampon nestled between, and tugged, removing it.

“You think I didn’t know?” he said low. His cock was as full as it had ever been.

She shook her head, maintaining the silence as directed.

“There’s little that gets past me when it comes to you. Now,” he prompted, “get in the shower. I’ll join you in a minute.” He turned away, leaving her to follow his direction. She had a long way to go if she thought her period was going to change anything. He disposed of the tampon.

She’d done well, so far. He needed to drive home the notion that her body belonged to him. He would do what he wanted, when he wanted with it, and her compliance was expected.

Rock grabbed the razor and shaving cream from the sink and joined her in the steamy warmth of the shower. He pointed the spray toward the wall, directed her to sit and then joined her on the tile floor. Gently he lifted one of her legs until her foot rested on his shoulder and coated it with shaving foam. With long, slow strokes, he scraped the foam away, feeling the smooth stripe of skin left behind, making sure he’d gotten everything. Meticulously, he shaved one, and then the other leg. When he was done, he nudged her legs wider and knelt between her knees. He applied a dollop of the white foam on the hair between her legs. Her head jerked down to look and then up so she could meet his gaze. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, but—

“No buts.”

“Okay, no buts.”

“I think your training has been going extraordinarily well.” He fingered the cream between her lower lips. “Do you agree?” He waited for the menthol in the foam to stimulate her clit, watching for her body’s acknowledgement of it.

“Yes.” She said the word in a breathy whisper.

He pushed her knees farther apart, exposing her pussy, beautifully decorated with clouds of fluffy white cream. It looked lickable, like a cupcake piled high with airy frosting. His mouth watered at the thought.

Rock lifted the razor to her exposed, intimate skin and scraped the first delicate swipe, clearing it of hair and cream. He was slow and precise as he handled her, manipulating her lower lips so he had adequate access to scrape the sharp steel against the curves and valleys. Then, as he got closer to what was hidden between, he pinched her clit a little more roughly than he should have, protecting it from the sharp blade he wielded, but also subjecting her to lightning bolts of pleasure and pain. She was flushed and panting as he performed the motions again and again, leaving smooth, bare flesh and an increasingly aroused woman in the wake of every stroke.

He admired her pleasure when she groaned aloud from his manipulations. Her features were serene. She was in this moment with him, feeling it, absorbing the sensations, soaking every one of them up with her senses.

He finished the shave and swiped her now soft, smooth skin with his fingertips. She was breathless and needy, using her eyes to convey her feelings.

“Very good, peanut. I can read you perfectly. Those expressive eyes tell me everything I need to know.” He slid his fingers inside her.

She flinched. “Rock, I’m having my period.”

“I think we’ve covered that topic already,” he said as he brushed his thumb over her clit and a third finger joined the first two.

“But aren’t you,” she hesitated, obviously searching for a word. “Put off, by that. I mean…” She stammered then shook her head. “Most—”

“I’m not most men.”

She met his gaze, and he didn’t recognize the expression, couldn’t pinpoint exactly where her emotions were.

“What are you thinking?”

“You’re really leaving no barriers between us. It’s uncomfortable.”

He nodded, smiled. “Yes. Some things flourish when uncomfortable. I like it. I like causing it, watching it.” He leaned in, and flicked her clit with his tongue.” It makes me want to fuck.” Her body jerked. Her pussy clenched his fingers. “My poor little peanut. So eager for my touch. It’s taken you a long time to earn it.”

Her hips flexed, in tiny, and he guessed, mostly unconscious motions as he slid his fingers in and out of her. This was their reward for the hard work they’ve been doing. Even though lately, training Laila was like getting an ice cream reward for finishing dessert.

He leaned in and exhaled on her bare pussy, then captured her clit for one torturous lick.

She growled at him, her frustration filling the shower stall. He inserted a pinky into her ass, joining the in and out motion of his other digits. He quickened the deep, thick strokes that had her clenching around his fingers.

“Oh God,” she cried.

He withdrew his fingers from her, and she froze. Then he leaned in and sucked her clit, taking the entirety of the little nub into his mouth.

Her body spasmed violently, as if an electric jolt moved through her, shocking her muscles and making them jump. One long, sweet shout followed. An endless note expelled from her until her lungs ran out of air. When she finally sucked in a breath, she cried out, “Stop!” Her chest heaved and her body shuddered as she attempted to slink away from him. He gripped her hip, keeping her there while he watched her pleading expression in response to the intolerable stimulation.

Finally he stopped and absorbed every nuance of the spent and wilted woman on the shower floor. He lifted himself. The hot spray hit his back, shielding her from the direct stream.

Her gaze moved down his body and landed on the ruddy cock pointed at her. She positioned herself to crawl toward him on her hands and knees. “Let me.” She rose to her knees. “Please.” The pleading in her eyes made his chest ache and, he fought the man inside from grabbing her by the hair and pulling her mouth down to his cock.

Instead, he scooped her up and whispered in her ear as they exited the shower. “God, baby, you were spectacular.” He planted a swift, rough kiss on her lips then set her down.

It took only a minute to get a clean tank top on her and boxers on himself.

Rock’s earbud pinged, signaling an incoming call just as Laila followed him into the bedroom. He gave her the signal to hold, a skill she still had trouble with, and answered. “Rock.”

“Nice to hear your voice when it’s daylight out, son.”

“Dad. I was planning on calling you later.”

“You can still do that. Right now I’m wondering if you’re with the young lady, the one you’re working with?”

Rock glanced over his shoulder at Laila, who was doing a mighty fine job of holding her spot while he was in the room with her. He repeated the hold signal as he walked past her and exited the bedroom. Taking the steps to the first floor two at a time, he said, “All right, Dad, what’s going on.”

“After we talked last time, I kept stumbling over the name of this girl. It bothered me for a while. Then, poof, it just pops into my head while I’m getting dressed. Lila Lewis.”

“Lila Lewis?”

“Lila Lewis is Laila Lewis’s mother.”

Rock leaned his rear against the edge of the kitchen counter, facing the direction of the stairs. “You know her?”

“I did. A long time ago…two, maybe three, times,” he murmured. After the flu took Rock’s mother, his dad dealt with his emptiness in a way opposite to the way he had. His father ran toward women, a lot of women, in an attempt to fill the emptiness inside.

Rock groaned. “Dad, you didn’t.” It was rare for his father to draw his ire, but this did it.

“Now, hold on. Let me finish. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“God dammit, Dad. That’s my—” He cut himself off before he said the next word perched on the tip of his tongue.

“Your what, son?”

Every muscle in his body tensed. “My woman.”

A charged silence spread long and loud over the connection. Then, in a gentle tone, his father said, “Nobody knows better than I how hard it is to look forward instead of looking back.”

“I know, Dad.”

“You did the right thing.”

More silence.

“So, uh…I’m so sorry about Lila.”

Rock couldn’t remain mad at the man who’d raised him. “Okay. Tell me.”

“I met her at an open house at your elementary school. She had a daughter, who I now know is Laila, in one of the younger grades.”

Rock caught movement by the stairs and looked at the time display on his hand-held. He shook his head. She couldn’t even hold for two minutes.

“Anyway, we had a conversation at the school that resulted in a date, which ended up, well, you know. We saw each other a few more times after that. Nevertheless, the rebuilding was demanding and it took most of my time. That, and you. We liked each other, but it was too hard. We were too broken after watching every one we knew die within the span of months. Shit, the entire population was traumatized, and all formed the most fucked up ways of coping. Lila Lewis was just another futile attempt to fill the hole your mother left. As you know, it didn’t work. I’m sorry, son.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Like you said, you were just trying to cope.”

“You’re a better man than I was. A stronger man.”

“How did it end?”

“Amicably. Neither of us thought we’d develop some grand love affair. We just took some comfort where we could get it. We lost touch fairly quickly.”

“And once you realized the connection?”

“I paid Lila a visit. I’ve been visiting a lot of people lately.” That was his father’s way of telling him he’d seen Xander and received Rock’s letter.

“And?”

“And I’d like to speak to Laila, please.”

Rock was asking if he received the escape plans mapped out in the letter he’d left at the safe house. But either his father didn’t get the point to his broad inquiry, or he was being purposefully dense.

“Now.” His tone said you might be all grown up, but I’m still the Alpha here.

“Hold on.” Rock pulled the earbud out of his ear and walked to the bottom of the stairs. Laila sat on a step as far down the flight as she could without being easily seen from where he’d been standing. “You didn’t last two minutes.” She shrugged and shot him an innocent smile. “Are you even trying?”

“Mmmm.” She pursed her lips and tapped a finger to her chin, looking serious for a moment, then grinned. “Not really.”

He shook his head and offered a hand. “Come on.” He walked her to the kitchen and pulled his hand-held from his pocket. “My father wants to speak to you.” He hit the speaker button. “Go ahead, Dad.”

“Laila?”

“Yes?”

“This is Rock senior.”

A smile crossed her face. “Are you a super hero, too?”

He chuckled. “Far from it, darlin’. From what I hear, it’s the other way around.”

Her spine stiffened and she darted a glance at Rock.

“Isn’t that what they’re calling the woman who’s going to risk her life to rescue all those important pieces of paper in Washington?”

Her shoulders slumped slightly. “If you say so. Nobody’s saying that to my face, though.”

He chuckled. “I wanted to let you know I saw your mother this morning.”

Laila’s mouth dropped open. “You did?”

“Yes, and she’d never try to contact you. She’s too loyal a supporter of Morgan to break his moratorium on trans-zone calls. And, of course by now you must know that I don’t give a shit. Pardon my French. So I just wanted to let you know she’s okay and pass on a message.”

A sudden rush of emotion transformed his girl. Sadness filled her eyes and her bottom lip protruded, quivered. “Message?” Her voice quavered. “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine. She said she’s proud of everything you’re doing. Be safe. And, of course, she loves you.”

Laila stood, looking at her toes to escape Rock’s observation, then whispered, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It was nice to reconnect with your mom after all these years. We’d been friends when you and Rock were in elementary school. Rock knows the story and can fill you in on the details later. Just know I’ll be keeping an eye on her for you. Make sure she doesn’t need anything, that she’s okay.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“You can call me Big Rock. That’s how people refer to me when they need to distinguish between us.”

She snorted. “That means you’re Little Rock?” She pointed at him.

Rock scowled at her in return. “Done, Dad?” he barked.

“Now Little Rock,” his dad said, “don’t get your panties in a twist.”

That sealed it for Laila. She laughed so hard she had to cross her legs so she wouldn’t pee herself.

Rock disconnected, put the hand-held in his pocket and waited until her laughter died from a roar to gulping, stabilizing breaths. She wiped her eyes and finally met his gaze. Then she started laughing all over again.

* * * *

“Go ahead, get it all out,” Rock said to her. “And then we need to talk about your inability to hold in place when I give you the signal.”

He obviously didn’t find his father as funny as she did. What a shame, because Big Rock had made her day. “Uh, no. I don’t feel like it,” she said mischievously.

“Too bad.” He took her hand and led her out his front door.

“Where are we going?”

“Tonight, we’re working on the hold command. I need to know you’ll stay where I left you if we have to separate.”

“I’ll hold when I really need to. Not everything has to be training, Rock.”

She glanced up at his gorgeous face every couple of steps, hoping for a reply. She got none. His stern mask was in place. He was in Rock wall mode.

Realizing what he was going to do, she said, “I don’t want to stay here by myself. This is silly, Rock. I can hold if I need to.”

“Baby, it’s not your call. It’s mine.” He stood with her just inside the doorway to her house. “You need to do this unconsciously. When we’re out of the city, there’s no room for errors. You have to show me you can do this.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He gave her the signal to hold and walked out her front door.

Her mood jumped from the proverbial ledge, freefalling due to the harsh desertion. He’d transformed her house into a prison, holding her in solitary confinement with just his words. She stood there in the silence, scanning the space. The living room was a modern interpretation of a rustic cabin with hard wood floors and saddle-colored leather furniture. A fine coating of dust covered the surfaces.

BOOK: Being Emerald
6.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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