Ridge Creek (21 page)

Fuck.

I hear him sigh before he says, “There aren’t any dead
bodies in boxes.”

Phew.

“Well that’s excellent news,” I announce turning my head to see
his profile.  He is still staring at the ceiling.

“You could say that,” he chuckles.  “You might not say that
when I tell you what
is
in them.”

“Oh,” I shape the word out of my mouth slowly and start to
chew my lip.  “Perhaps I
don’t
want to find out what is in the boxes?”

In another sudden movement, Jake lifts to a sitting
position, twists, grabs me off the bed and drags me to sit in his lap facing
him.  I blink as I register the speed with which he moved both himself and me. 
He has the speed of a ninja which seems impossible considering his sheer bulk
of size.  “You want me to be open and honest?” He asks as I sit blinking at
him.

“Well… yes…” I stammer slightly.

Holy shit he’s gunna tell me what’s in his boxes.

In a slow and calculated move, he lifts his hands and places
them on my hips.  A small jolt of electricity spirals down my spine as his
hands settle.  I
like
his hands on my hips.  I relax slightly and slump
to allow my hands to settle on his chest again.  I spend a brief moment
registering the tactile connection as I gently rub my fingertips against his
chest hair.

Jake sighs and with slow, heavy words he says, “Tony is
dead.”

“Yeah, old news,” I mumble as I continue to rub my fingers softly
against his chest.  Then with a jolt it hits me, how does
he
know?  I
snap myself stiffly upright and rip my hands away from his chest.  Before I can
manage to push myself off his lap, Jake’s hands clamp down on my hips and he
stiffens too.

Nice move big guy, you weren’t just being nice holding my
hips, you were getting ready to stop me leaving weren’t you?

“Old news?” He asks looking confused and cautious.

“Don’t fucking
old news
me.  How do
you
know already? 
You’ve been in bed all day and the news of his death only hit the television
this afternoon.”

Relaxing slightly, his fingers soften against my hips.  “You
found the television.”

“Yes I found the fucking television.  Don’t change the subject. 
How the fuck do you already know that Tony Giotti is dead?”

“I know,” he says warily, “because I was the man who shot
two bullets into his forehead.”

Fuck!

Jake
shot Tony.  It wasn’t a mob hit.  It was
Jake.

“Ohmigod,” I breathe out the word as all oxygen exits my
lungs.

“Is that honest enough for you?” He asks as he starts
chewing at his bottom lip thoughtfully.

Nodding, I find my tongue has tied into a knot and I have no
idea what to say.  “He deserved it,” he continues.

I nod again.  I agree.  He deserved it.

“He hurt you,” he adds.

I nod again as my mind wraps its fingers around this newest
piece of information.  Poking and prodding at it, trying to make sense of it.  I
am trying to find a suitable emotion to mirror my thoughts.

Jake is staring at me intently.  Patiently awaiting my response. 
So I give it to him.

I lean forward again to gently place my hands back on his
chest.  Then I take a deep breath before continuing the final part of my
journey as I continue to lean forward and press my lips to his.  “Thank you,” I
whisper softly before slipping my tongue out gently to swipe his top lip.  His
breath catches and his hands clench briefly against my hips before suddenly
relaxing. 

That shocked you didn’t it buddy?

I swipe my tongue across his lip again before realizing he’s
not responding.  He’s not kissing me back.

Uh oh.

A brief idea to pull away crosses my mind before I am
overtaken by the urge to lick his bottom lip as well.  So I do.  That seems to
do the trick.  His lips part and his tongues glide out to touch mine softly.  He
tastes
good. 
A mixture of mint and something else.  The something else
you crave and will go to desperate measures to find.  Like when you lick salt
looking just for the saltiness.

I pull my tongue back and nip his bottom lip gently.  His
lip is soft and plump.  He hisses and one of his hands slides up my back to
settle on the back of my neck.  He applies a slight pressure to my neck before
his tongue plunges back into my mouth.  I let go of his lip as the flavor of
Jake invades my senses and the air whooshes from my body.  I suck gently on his
tongue, trapping it during its wild journey through my mouth and suck the
saliva from his tongue.

He responds with a soft groan that sends tremors straight down
my spine, finishing with a tingle between my legs.  I find myself clenching my
legs either side of him as I press my crutch hard against his.

Slowly drawing his tongue out of my mouth, he licks across
my top lip before he puckers and pecks me lightly on the lips.   I sigh as he
murmurs, “That response was a fuck load different from what I was expecting.  A
fuck of a lot better too.  You’re welcome baby.”

My earlier conversation with Towball flashes through my
mind.  “I owe you,
big,
” I murmur softly staring longingly at his lips. 
I want them back on me.  Soon.

“You don’t owe me anything baby.  He deserved it. 
Conversation done.”

Another realization flashes into my mind.  With a jolt I sit
back upright again.

“Ohmigod.  What if they catch you?  You’ll go to jail,” I
screech.  The concept of Jake going to jail and leaving me here on my own
horrifies me.

God no.

“I won’t get caught,” he replies quietly, but confidently. 
“I have no links to the scumbag.  He doesn’t know me.  He was also on radar to
be hit by the mob for fucking up their prostitution and gun deals.  He was already
a marked man.  The police will search closer to home for someone to blame.  
Stay cool baby, as long as you stay hidden and they don’t link me to you, this
will blow over.”

I physically slump against him, my head hitting his
shoulder.  “Jesus Jake.  You’ve already done enough for me, but this… this…”

“Conversation over,” he growls.  “No word of this to anyone
yeah?  Not even Emma.  I understand that you can trust her but telling her just
makes her an accessory. This is between me, you and Zane.”

I jolt back upright again.  “Zane?”

“Zane had my back.  He didn’t pull the trigger but he was
involved.”

“Jesus,” I murmur softly.  “He didn’t need to do that.”

“He wanted to.  And I’m glad it was him.  I suspect it could
have been any of the boys if I had have asked though.  They like you.”

I smirk at him and roll my eyes.

He grins.

“One of a kind.  Straight from the side of the road. Un
fucking believable.”

He pushes me sideways then rolls our bodies so he is on top again. 
I stare up at his gorgeous face mesmerized.  His eyes darken and start to
smolder as they drift down my face to settle on my lips.

I lift my hand to scratch across the rough stubble on his
face.  It feels nice.  I then push his hair away from where it hangs near his
eyes to hook it behind his ear.  “That’s one hell of thing you did for me,” I
say softly as my eyes drift to his lips as well.

He doesn’t respond verbally.  He responds physically by
leaning in and blistering me with what can only be described as a panty
flooding kiss.  “Wow,” I hum against his lips before he starts to draw away. 

“Wow,” he agrees with a grin as he pushes his arms down firmly
either side of me and lifts from the bed.  Without another word he grabs for
his jeans and starts to slide them up his legs.

“Where are you going?” I ask breathlessly.  A sense of loss
swirling through me as I register that he is leaving.

“Babe, haven’t showered for a couple of days.  I need a
rinse.  You’re waiting here.  When I get back, we’re gunna fuck.”

“Okay,” I agree with a grin.  “Sounds good.”

With a twist, he leans back to peck me on the lips, he
smirks before pushing off the bed.  With a brief stop for fresh clothes at the
tallboy, he walks to the door and is gone.

It is not until after he has left the room that I remember
the boxes.  I still didn’t find out what was in the fucking boxes.

Boring

With Jake gone, the room quiet and little else to do but
wait, my thoughts wander.  First they wander through the conversation I’ve just
had with Jake.  A short time later they wander to what is likely to happen when
Jake returns. 

This means they wander to sex.

To the one activity I have not undertaken in this bed.  This
bed that just a few short weeks ago, felt like a prison.  A bed that I have
spent so much time in since leaving Tony that I’ve exhausted nearly all other
forms of bed based amusement possible. 

Rolling onto my stomach, I drag a pillow up hard against my
face and groan.  I groan because I’m both nervous and excited at the same
time.  My mixed emotions stem from the reality that I’ve only ever had sex with
one person.  Tony.

He took my virginity on my eighteenth birthday when I was so
drunk out of my mind, I hardly remember it.  From then on sex with Tony was
infrequent, sporadic and usually limited to Friday and Saturday nights.  It was
also boring.

Very boring.

Tony’s idea of foreplay had always been simple.  Roll over
to me in bed, start kissing, whack a hand on my boob and then climb on.  What
would then follow would be a sweaty wrestling match where we’d kiss – a lot. 
In among the kissing I would wiggle about trying to get myself comfortable. 
While I did this, he would continue to pump and grunt on top of me at warp
speed as if he was trying to win an Olympic race to achieve the fastest male
orgasm. 

Which also meant that sex with Tony was quick.  Fast and
furious, it was usually over within minutes.  Which also meant that I had never
had an orgasm during sex with Tony.  Ever.

On a couple of occasions, thinking that my lack of orgasm
may have been positional, I’d tried to be adventurous and provoke a change of
position.  These tries also turned out boring (and orgasmless) because Tony
only seemed to take them as a cue to pump and grunt from a different angle.  I
soon worked out changing positions wasn’t worth the effort needed to push him
off and flip either me or him over.  So I stuck with his missionary pump and
grunt sessions, enjoying the kissing because from my limited experience, he
seemed to be a good kisser.

It was because of these brief pump and grunt sessions that I
started reading romance novels.  Hundreds of them.  Hundreds of romance stories
that regaled the amazing activities of what a man and woman could do in the
bedroom and these stories made me
hot.

So hot that I drove myself to the nearest Club X store one
day and bought myself a Boff.  (Battery operated forever friend
.
)  Which
may not have helped improve the boring sessions with Tony, but it sure did
improve the sessions without him.  

Which leads me back to my current groaning.  I am groaning
because Jake makes me
hot.
  Way hotter than any book I have ever read
and he does it by just looking at me.  He also makes me hot when he growls at
me.  Which is strange because after what Tony did to me, if any man even
growled in my general direction you’d think I’d be spinning and running. 
Spinning and running in the other direction as fast as my feet could carry me. 

But I don’t feel like running from Jake.  At all.   When
Jake growls I
know
he is not going to hurt me so it makes me feel
hot. 
It also makes me feel like running
towards
him, not away.  Like I’m
hot and he’s the cold water.  The cold water necessary to cool down my
hot.

Hell yeah.

I don’t remember every feeling like that with Tony.  I’m
also frustrated because I no longer own a Boff and I haven’t had chance to
release any of my tension over the past weeks.  I
need
an orgasm. 

Even if it is only self-induced one.   Which right now
sounds like a good idea.  A very good idea because I swear to God, if Jake
turns out to be a jump, pump and grunter, I may just self-implode. 

Spontaneously.

With a Boff, at least I know I can keep a grip on myself. 
Letting some of the tension go before a session with Tony
always
helped.  If I relieved the tension first, it didn’t particularly matter to me
whether I enjoyed the sex or not.  As long as he was happy, I was happy.

Which means I need to buy a new Boff.

I should get online and order one
today
.  I’ve got my
own credit card now which leaves me with no reason not to.  Admittedly, I have
thought about replacing my Boff a couple of times over the past weeks but shied
away from placing an online order using Jake’s credit card.  I hadn’t liked the
thought of Jake reading his credit card statement to discover I had been
shopping online at Club X.

So what to do right now?

Maybe I could try taking care of myself… manually?

Or maybe not.

Because it feels wrong masturbating when there are people
nearby.  It feels especially wrong when I know there are people not only in the
same building, but just a few short rooms or hallways away.

Whenever I used my Boff in the past, I always did it before
Tony got home and the house was dead quiet.  No distractions and no fear of
being caught.  With all the noises and people coming and going around here, I
doubt I’ll be able to relax enough to let go. 

Damn.

I really need to get over my fear of being caught and my
ability to be easily distracted by noises.  Especially if I’m going to continue
to live here, surrounded by good-looking men.  Panty moistening men who spike
my tension levels so much I think my clitoris is going to burst if it doesn’t
receive some attention soon.