Torn (The McKerricks Book 1) (8 page)

When the buttons are all finally undone, I force my lips off hers, and lean back to take her all in. She
’s perfect. Fucking
perfect
. All smooth soft curvy skin, I can’t count a single rib, like I can on super models. It’s all smooth porcelain skin, from the tops of her pajama bottoms all the way up to her bright green eyes. It’s only broken up by a few light spattering’s of freckles. I think I might have moaned at the sight of it… I’m definitely sure I groaned. And her breasts are perfect, just enough to spill over my hands as I slowly begin kneading them. She doesn’t moan or beg for more, she just leans back and gives me better access, and that’s all I need as affirmation. With one more seductive pull at her lips, I begin working my lips and my tongue slowly, achingly slowly, against her skin down toward her taut nipples. I’m hoping for a moan, I’m practically begging for it with my tongue when I get my mouth on one of her dusky pink nipples. But she is silent, strung tight like a line that is about to break.

My lips are pulling at the tip of her nipple, my tongue swirling around, I
’m biting the thing for Christ sake and she still doesn’t make a sound. Not one single moan. The only way I know she is feeling it is the trembling in her body as she arches into the touch. So I slowly drag my mouth across to her other breast and lick and suck and knead at it, trying everything I can to get a response out of her.

“
Hurry up Angus, take your pants off and let’s get to the good part,” she murmurs urgently, and my hands and my mouth still against her skin.

Who. The. Fuck. Is. Angus?

Did she really just call me by another man’s name? She is the only woman I have ever tried this hard to please and she is going to call me by someone else’s name? I pull back, and my blue eyes meet her shifting emerald eyes, and there is laughter there.

“
That is not my name.” The words are past my lips in a whisper, but I know she heard them when her smirk widens. I have never in my life been as angry with anyone over anything as I am in this moment. She called me by someone else’s name. She’s calling her lovers name while
I’m
the one fucking her.

“
Oh, sorry… Benji was it?” She replies with a half laugh, and I can feel my expression grow darker.

Before another word can cross her lips, I
’ve snatched her up and thrown her down on the sofa pinning her beneath my weight. Her hands are being held above her head in a death grip by my own.

“
Sorry sorry… C… C… Caleb?”

I use one hand to hold me up and pin her wrists above her head, and the other reaches between us and yanks her flannel pajama bottoms off. My mouth is on her skin biting and sucking harder than I know I should, hard enough to leave a mark.

“Ah! David,” she implores, and I lose it.

I shove her against the sofa, yank a condom out of my pocket, and unzip and roll it on all the while glaring down at her smiling green eyes.

“Henley,” my voice is the most serious I’ve ever heard it, as I glare directly at her. “My name is Connor McKerrick, and I am going to fuck you so hard it’s going to be imprinted in you. You will
never
be able to fuck another man without thinking of me.”

“
I hope so Angus,” she lets out with a sigh, “I really do hope so.”

My mind sticks on the words. My mind sticks on her calling me Angus,
again
. The other words don’t register, so with a growl I thrust in, knowing she is too tight for that shit, knowing it has to hurt, I practically pin her to her sofa with my cock.

Her parted lips beg with every pant to be kissed, and it takes everything I
’ve got to keep from doing so, but the twisting ache she opened up when she called another mans name hasn’t closed, and exposing myself with a kiss isn’t on my list of things I want a repeat on.

She doesn
’t say another word, even though each thrust makes her body tremble. She stays silent, even when I fuck us both into oblivion.

Chapter 8

It
’s like waking up from a fog, when I finally open my eyes, and for a moment I don’t know where I am. But as the grogginess from a lack of sleep, and a little too much whiskey fade, the quaint cabin room comes into focus. I kissed her. I kissed her like I needed to kiss her, like she needed to be kissed… and then I fucked her till neither of us could stand.

With a groan I roll onto my side to climb off the bed, and come face to face with a condescending pair of golden eyes.

“Don’t judge me,” I snap at the dog, who simply huffs and trots out of the room.

What a weird dog, thank God I won
’t have to see it again, because if last night showed me anything it showed me exactly why I need to stay the hell away. We are combustible, far too combustible. So with a sigh I drag myself out of her bed, her far too comfortable bed, and try to think of a way to get out of here.

I manage to avoid a head rush, as I bend over to scoop my clothes off the floor. They are wrinkled beyond repair, so I
’ll have to stop by my apartment on the way into work. If they weren’t so bad I could just get the spares from my office, but there is no way I’m showing up to work in clothes this wrinkled, I didn’t even bother trying to fold them. I was too focused on Henley to even perform basic functions.

Stepping out of the room as I finish buttoning my shirt, I find Henley bobbing her head in time with whatever music is coming out of her over sized headphones, as she stands in front of her oven. The smell of something warm, homey, and sweet is filling the air, and making me hungry. She is no longer wearing her flannel bunny pajamas, honestly I think they might have lost a few buttons in the fucking last night, she is wearing something far deadlier. A red tank top, and what looks like a pair of superman briefs that should be illegal the way they cup her perfect ass. The only part of it that seems weird are the strange wraps she has on her arms, and even then my body isn
’t deterred, just seeing her makes me want her again. Even though I know she is no good for me.

When she stops singing softly to herself, I take the chance to interject.
“Whats up with that?” I ask motioning in her direction.

She spins around and watches me curiously,
“Don’t tell me rich people don’t have pancakes?”

With a smile I shake my head point to my arms,
“I meant whats up with those.”

She frowns and watches me closely as she replies,
“They’re arm warmers.”

“
Are your arms cold?”

“
Yes,” she says a little of her smile returning.

“
But not the rest of you?”

“
Nope,” she replies popping the p with a broad smile. “Pancakes?”

I shouldn
’t, I know I shouldn’t. I should claim that I’ve a long drive to work, which is the truth, I should run, before we begin catching each other on fire again. Before I make the mistake of letting her close again, because even now she hasn’t said my name once. Not once. It’s like I can’t help myself as I nod and respond and go sit at the table.

“
You want regular ones?” She asks as she turns back toward her stove, and her pancakes.

“
Whatever you’re making is fine,” because honestly I just want to sit here and watch you a little while longer. Just a little bit more before I have to give you up.

She nods, but doesn
’t look back my way as she reaches into a bucket next to her. Its not until she has pulled out a handful and tossed it onto the pancakes that I see what she is putting on them. Holy. Shit. She just threw what had to be the equivalent of a whole candy bar’s worth of chocolate chips onto that one pancake. I’m left seemingly forgotten, as she starts singing to herself again and making ultra chocolate pancakes.

It isn
’t long before she brings two plates loaded with the chocolate covered pancakes to the table. She sets them down on the table with a smile before turning back to the fridge and grabbing syrup and a can of whipped cream. There is no way she is planning on putting all that on her pancakes… I’m wrong. When she gets to the table she sits and piles it all high. I should have known. The first time I met her it was powdered donuts. Henley is unlike any woman I’ve ever encountered, and a million miles away from the women I fuck.

“
You like sweets I take it.”

She nods, after taking a bite of the sweet concoction, and all I can do is shake my head and pick at the food in front of me. I
’ve never seen a woman who enjoys unhealthy things as much as this one does, and it’s a refreshing change.

“
Listen… Henley I don’t normally… I mean,” I let out a groan and bring my eyes up to her green ones that are watching me intently. Every time I’m around her it’s like I become an idiot. “I don’t normally do this, stick around until breakfast I mean… because I do the fucking thing… occasionally.” God I sound stupid.

Henley rolls her eyes and swallows the food in her mouth before speaking.
“You mean frequently? The fucking thing.”

I shrug.
“Maybe… sort of. That’s not the point though, the point is I don’t do the domestic thing its… I just… don’t.”

“
Well I don’t do the fucking thing, I just thought you might want breakfast so I made some extra.”

“
You’re good at the ‘fucking thing’ for someone that doesn’t do it.”

“
You’re not so bad at it yourself Angus,” she replies with a chuckle before going back to eating, and typing on the laptop that is next to her on the table.

She becomes intent on eating and typing, and I am left as a seemingly forgotten guest at the table, so I do what any good forgotten guest does, eat my food and let my eyes wander around her home. It definitely isn
’t what I expected of her. There is nothing chic or modern, it’s all rustic. The only thing she is missing is a taxidermied animal… or two. Where mine is all cold shades of gray, hers is warmth. The rich wood beams, furniture made of creams and browns. There are no photos in woodsy frames, in fact there aren’t many personal items anywhere.

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and I watch Henley to see if she goes for the Taser again, but she is so absorbed in what she is doing I don’t know if she can hear the knocks on the door.

“
Henley.”

“
Mmm?”

“
Do you not answer the door? I mean I get it your in the middle of nowhere it’s probably a serial killer but do you just let it knock constantly?”

She finally drags her eyes of her computer with a frown and looks at me.
“What?”

I point at the door and her eyes follow the direction of my hand.

“Oh, oh oh oh,” she hops up with a start and walks to the door. Her hand stills on the handle before she jerks it back and walks into her room. A few moments later she comes out in a pair of fitted jeans, and a long sleeve shirt. It’s a shame, I liked the almost naked view better. A lot better.

She doesn
’t reach for the Taser she just opens the door with a smile. “Hey boys, come on in.” She steps to the side and two kids walk in, maybe eighteen or nineteen. It’s a age I remember well, an age where all you’re thinking about is what you can do with your dick, and they are looking at Henley like they’ve been stuck without girls or lotion for
days
. I know that look, because it’s the look I give Henley every time I see her.

I don
’t like it. I don’t like the way she is laughing and smiling. I don’t like the way it causes that physical pain in my gut. Twisting like a snake.  I don’t like how she is asking after their families. I can’t stand the familiarity between them. I can’t stand it. So I do something stupid.

I stand and cloak myself in the attitude I wear for business. Dominance. It doesn
’t take the two little kids long to notice me, and once I know they are paying close attention as I stroll over to Henley, I kiss her like it’s the last kiss I’ll ever get with her. I press my lips hard against her lips, hard enough to bruise, my teeth dragging against her bottom lip. With a whimpering sigh, her lips part and give my tongue entrance, and I devour her. In this moment I own her. I fist my hand in the front of her shirt, causing one of the buttons to pop, revealing the bite marks I left all over her skin last night. I know those stupid shits see them, I know that Henley is off limits to them now. Henley is mine for as long as I want her, and I’m not going to let some little shits have her.

When I pull back, Henley slumps back against the wall, her eyes wide and unfocused. It takes everything I have not to grin at the sight. Not only do the two shits know who owns her, Henley knows too.

“I’ll see you around little author,” I say softly before turning and walking out the door, leaving her to sort the rest.

I slide into my car and let out a long sigh. It is physically painful to leave her. But I have broken enough of my rules for my little author, leaving work unattended is just something I refuse to do. So I start the long journey back to my apartment, back to my life. I start the long journey of trying to make my body forget how much I want her.