Monster (17 page)

“Exactly. I mean
I could have gone to the Henchmen or those survivalist freaks up on
the hill...”

“Hailstorm,”
Breaker said, looking over his shoulder at me. “Why didn't
you?”

“Well because the
Henchmen look like they'd be all to happy to blow my head off if I
tried to even get a meeting. And Hailstorm, well, I mean... have to
seen
that place?” I asked, thinking of the recycled
storage containers they lived in powered by solar and protected by a
huge fence, armed guards, and trained dogs.

“I did a job with
Lo last year,” Breaker said calmly, dropping the name of their
leader like it was nothing. When Lo was known on the streets as a
“plain old crazy mother fucker”... whatever that meant.
“They're not as nuts as they seem. Really well trained
mercenaries. Lot of ex military.”

“Regardless.
They're creepy. The Mallicks might be loan sharks, but they're pretty
normal people.”

“Clearly you've
never seen them at work.”

I rolled my eyes. Like
a little knee-cap breaking would scare me with all the shit I had
seen. “I've never seen you at work either. And you're
reasonably normal.”

“I'm...
normal
?”
he asked sounding insulted, turning to me with an oven glove in his
hand and I felt myself laughing.

“Oh, sorry,”
I drawled, still laughing. “You're truly terrifying standing in
your kitchen with an oven mitt and a wooden spoon. I'm
shaking
.”

“Woman,” he
said, his voice hard as he reached into the oven, grabbed the
broiling pan, then slammed it down on the top of the stove, shutting
off the broiler as well as the heat under the potatoes.

And then he took a step
toward the center of the room, reached behind his back, and pulled
off his shirt.

Now there were plenty
of words to describe the kind of rippling muscle perfection that
greeted me.

Jacked. Ripped. Built.
Drool-worthy. Man candy.
God damn!

But the most
appropriate seemed to be:

holy fucking shit.

“Tee off”
he demanded, his voice even deeper than usual. His hands went to the
front of his jeans and made short work of the button and zip.

“I, um, thought
you were going to... feed me first,” I fumbled, feeling both a
surge of desire so strong it was a miracle I hadn't melted into a
puddle, and a rush of uncertainty.

“The food can
wait. Get that tee off and get over here,” he said, pushing his
jeans off his hips. I watched, too shocked to move and do as
instructed as he stepped out of the feet and stood there in the
middle of his kitchen in a pair of black boxer briefs that did
nothing to hide his hard-on.

My hands reached for
the hem of the tee as his moved to push away his last barrier of
clothing.

And, well, yeah, my
hands dropped numbly to my sides.

Because the sight of a
man like Breaker naked required every ounce of concentration. And
besides, lifting my shirt over my head would block him from sight.
Granted, only for a second, but a second was just too long. Because
he was like a Greek statue come to life. Every muscle, tendon, vein
on full display. There was a raised white scar running three inches
down his belly. Another round one near his hip.

Then, well, there was
his cock.

Was it appropriate to
stare? I didn't know. I didn't care. I was staring.

Because it was perfect.
Long and thick and standing at attention.

And, suddenly, I wanted
to wrap my hand around it. I wanted to feel him. I wanted to hear his
breathing get ragged. I wanted to show him even half of what he had
shown me earlier.

And, somehow, I was too
wrapped up in my little fantasy to notice he had moved.

As in
moved.

Across the floor
and right in front of me.

I knew this because I
felt his big hands grab the bottom of the tee and haul it roughly
upward. My arms were forced up and the material was discarded.

My eyes went up to find
his watching my face, a purely masculine satisfied smirk toying at
his lips. “See something you like, doll?” he asked,
watching as the heat rose in my cheeks.

So, yeah, there was no
way he hadn't seen me ogling his naughty bits.

“I... uhm...”

“You like how my
cock looks, babe, just wait till you see how it feels buried in that
tight pussy of yours.”

Oh lordy.

Okay.

Someone needed to tell
my lady bits to chill the fuck out.

I was pretty sure there
was like a pre-orgasm fluttering going on.

He hadn't even touched
me yet.

“You nervous?”
he asked, his head tilted to the side, watching me.

Nervous?

Yeah. You could say
that. Though I was pretty sure there had to be a better word to
describe the heady cocktail of nervousness/ excitement/ desire/ and
crippling terror that was swirling its way through my system right at
that moment.

“It's... been a
while,” I hedged. Years. It had been years. And I was pretty
sure my prior experience barely counted given that nothing had ever
felt like I was feeling right that moment. Hot. Physically heated.
Despite being bare ass naked. My skin felt flushed, head to toe. But
also hot in another way. Like there was a burning deep in my belly.
Like if it didn't get extinguished, it would burn me up. And on top
of that, the overwhelming need to feel him. To know what his chest
hair would feel like against my breasts. What the hard palms of his
hands would feel like stroking up my ribs. What his mouth would feel
like pressed into my collarbone.

Nothing had ever come
close to how I was feeling standing with Breaker. And that was
terrifying.

“How long?
Months?” he asked, like it was totally normal to have a
conversation whilst nude in the middle of his kitchen. Hell, maybe
for him it was.

“Years.”

“Years?” he
breathed out, shaking his head. “No fuckin' way. Not with you
lookin' like you look. Talkin' how you talk. No fuckin' way.”

“Talking how I
talk?” I asked, my face scrunching up.

“That fuckin'
attitude. That temper. Sets a cock at full mast across a crowded
room.”

Well. That was news.

And maybe the nicest
compliment I had ever received. In a really pervy kind of way.

“Well... I
haven't made time for dating.”

“Ain't talking
about dating. Talking about fucking.”

“Whatever. Same
difference. I haven't made time for it.”

“We ain't got
nothin' but time,” he said, his smile fading a bit, his eyes
getting darker.

“I guess.”

“You guess? You
know... you ain't exactly helping my ego here.”

“What am I
supposed to be swooning and moaning
'take me, take me'
?”
I asked, exaggerating the last two words to a porn-star worthy
throaty groan.

His hand slid between
us, quickly thrusting his finger inside me, making me let out a
for
real
throaty groan. “Something like that,” he said,
his smirk coming back as his finger worked in and out of me until my
legs felt wobbly and my hands slammed down on his chest to steady
myself. “Smart fuckin' mouth,” he said, his mouth near my
ear as I leaned into him. “And wet fuckin' pussy.”

His finger pulled out
of me suddenly and my hand slapped his chest. “No,” I
groaned, my hips moving against him shamelessly.

“You want my
cock?” he asked, his hand slipping into my hair, pulling it
back to look in my eyes.

Oh god.

Yes.

I did.

But did he really need
me to admit it?

I felt my head nod,
accepting that my pride could take a little beating if it meant the
tightening in my core could be relieved.

“Then why don't
you get on your knees and show me how much you want it?”

Okay.

There was another of
those mini-flutterings between my legs.

Which, if I was in a
right mind to examine, would seem weird to me.

But as it was... my
mind had one thing it wanted. And if getting it meant that I had to
get on my knees for him first, well, so be it.

I sucked my lower lip
into my mouth, wetting it, as I slowly lowered myself to the ground.

Alright. So I had only
done this like twice before. And it was awful. As you can imagine.
Glenn with his half-flaccid penis led to something that felt a lot
like lockjaw before he finally pulled me up and pushed me onto my
back.

There was something
about Breaker's hard, thick cock that I found myself excited to
explore. With my hands. My mouth.

So my hand went
outward, closing around him and stroking down to the hilt as I leaned
forward, lips opening around the head and feeling his velvety
hardness slip inside my mouth. My tongue flicked over the head,
tasting the beginning of his desire, and I heard his breath hiss out
of his mouth. Encouraged, and maybe a bit more than excited, my mouth
slid down his length, my hand working him where my lips couldn't,
twisting and stroking at the same time until his hand came down,
gathering my hair and pulling it backward. He let me work him for
another short minute before dragging me back by my hair. I made a
sort of objecting sound in my throat that had him chuckling in a
deep, rumbling way that made my insides feel fluid.

“Don't worry. I
am gonna let you work that sweet mouth on me again. But right now,
doll, I need to fuckin' be inside you. I need to feel your cunt
squeezing me as you scream my name. And just when you start to come
down, I am going to push you right back up. Over and over. Until you
can't scream anymore. Until all you can do is choke for breath and
let it slam through you.”

Oh. My. God.

Okay.

Yeah.

I was pretty close to
groaning out 'take me, take me' for real.

I swallowed hard,
clenched my thighs together, and attempted a smirk that I was pretty
sure came out a bit wobbly. “All talk,” I teased,
watching as his brows lowered over his eyes, making them look hooded
and even sexier than they usually did.

Then he was using my
hair to drag me back onto my feet. The sensation at once painful but
so erotic I felt my mouth falling open on a silent moan.

He tugged my hair hard
to the side, leaning close to my ear. “Hands on the counter,”
he growled, then released me roughly, making me stumble back a foot.
When I didn't immediately move to do as told (because I was too
stunned and turned on and confused to do anything but stare at him),
he took a warning step forward, brow raised. “Do I need to
repeat myself?”

I shook my head,
turning, and slapped my hands down on the cool counter.

“Spread your
legs,” he said and I could feel his eyes raking over my body
from behind. Steeling my stomach against the rolling embarrassment I
felt at that instruction, I pushed my feet apart. “Wider,”
he said and I pushed them wider, leaving my legs wider than
hip-width. “Good girl,” he murmured, the sound
practically a rolling purr off his lips and I felt his approval like
a warm blanket.

I felt rather than
heard him moving, the air around him seeming charged as he got
closer. His hands moved to span my hips, sinking in my skin in a
delicious way that made my head tilt backward and hit his shoulder.
But then he was moving. As in
down
. Like... onto his knees. I
had the barest of seconds to feel the mortified objection form in my
mind before his tongue slid up my cleft and found my clit, making my
entire body jolt, my hands curling into fists on the cold counter.

Because... holy shit.

My inner thighs wobbled
as his lips closed around the sensitive bud and sucked hard, a
strangled groan rushing out of my throat.

“Oh my god...”
I whimpered, arching my ass up, giving him better access.