Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5) (10 page)

“You’ve been doing that since I first clapped eyes on you and tried to let you know I liked what I saw. You’re like a jumping bean; in constant motion before anyone has a chance to hold you down. And, sugar, I’ve been wanting to hold you down in a bad way.”

Still boxed in and with nowhere to go, I can’t avoid the slow descent of his mouth to mine. Not that I really tried.

The rich, potent taste of him is like a shock to my system. While his tongue is determinedly taking charge of my mouth, his hips insert themselves between my legs. My mind is urging to shut him down but the moment I move, his cautioning growl against my lips has me wantonly open my legs and lips wider instead. It’s not like he is holding me down, and yet despite only our lips touching, and his prominent, very hard erection pressing between my legs, he has complete control.  Slow deep sweeps of his tongue in my mouth, in rhythm with barely discernible hip rolls, have me whimpering in submission. All thought, but the taste and feel of him, disappears from my mind. Each time my hands involuntarily move to touch him, his deep growl vibrates through all my nerve ends in a delicious warning.

When his mouth finally pulls away from mine, I can’t stop the little moan escaping me. His hands, which have been gripping the counter on either side of me, finally move to cup my face and tilt it up. The undeniable heat in the dark brown eyes looking down at me sends an involuntary shiver down my limbs. 

“Can’t have your hands on me, or mine on you; I’d lose all control,” he mutters in a low voice.

“Would it be so bad to lose control?” I find myself whispering.

“Absolutely. Can’t have what my hands or yours are touching distract from what my mouth is tasting.”

Fucking hell.

What in blazes happened to the man, who just hours ago said all the wrong things, and yet has me melting at the words falling from his mouth now? Just as I’m about to point that out the shrill ring of a phone interrupts.

“Yours,” Clint says, as he steps back from me and leaves a chill in his wake.

I get up on legs that are more wobbly than I expected, requiring me to grab onto the counter for stability. My phone is still in the pocket of my coat hanging on a kitchen chair.

“Hello?” I manage to catch it right before it goes to voicemail. “Hello?” I try again when the line stays silent. I pull the phone away from my ear and look at the screen. It says ‘unknown number’ so I try one last time. “Who’s calling please?” Nothing. Not a sound except the loud click that signals a hang up.

“What was that?” Clint asks.

“Not sure. Never got an answer.”

I’m still staring at the screen when the damn thing starts ringing again, and I almost drop it on the floor. Clint reaches out and grabs it from my hand before I have a chance to answer.

“Who the fuck is this?” he says, rather angrily, evident by the stark red of the surgery scar on his skull.

“Christ. Sorry, little lady, Beth just got a weird call is all. Thought whoever it was before was at it again. Yeah—sure, she’s right here.” With a sheepish grin he hands me the phone back. “It’s Katie,” he explains unnecessarily.

“Thanks, Einstein,” I mumble, secretly pleased at the forceful display of protectiveness.

“Hey, Katie-girl, what’s up?”

“You tell me first; what’s this business about a weird phone call?” she demands to know.

“Nothing, probably just a wrong number, but did you find something?”

“Only that Dylan was evicted from his house last Tuesday for nonpayment.”

“
Jesus.
”

“He apparently failed to pay rent for the third month in a row, and the landlord had no choice, since he wasn’t returning his calls.”

“How did I not know this? See this? I stayed there for a fucking month and I had no idea. Why didn’t he say something? I could’ve helped.”

I feel Clint walking up behind me and putting his hands on my shoulders in silent support.

“I don’t know what to tell you, girl, but I’m guessing he may have felt he’d tapped you enough for money over the years? Wild guess...”

“Yes, possibly—probably, but I would never have allowed my grandson to go without a home, I wouldn’t even have hesitated.”

“Don’t know what to tell you, honey. The landlord did mention that he was surprised to find the place abandoned already. The notice technically gave them a week to move out, but he said when he went to check yesterday, there was nobody there, and it looked like someone had packed in a hurry. Clothes and such mostly seemed to be gone and a bit of a mess was left in the bedroom, but other than that, he said it looked like they just up and left, leaving all furnishings behind, including the desktop computer. I told him you’d be in touch once you’ve decided what you want done with the stuff?”

I slump a bit and feel Clint’s solid form against my back. “Not sure what to think. Should I pack it up? Put it in storage? I don’t even know when he’ll be back.”

“I actually had a thought,” Katie offers. “Gus has Malachi going to Durango to attend to some business tomorrow. I’d like to have Mal look over the place and at least pick up the computer? Who knows what he picks up on and besides, we may be able to get some information off that desktop. He can arrange to have the rest packed up and put in storage for you? At least it keeps it safe until you want it or Dylan comes back.”

“I guess that’s fine, I can’t even think straight right now. I probably should give that landlord a call.”

“Do it tomorrow morning, it’s too late now. Just let him know Mal is coming and give him the GFI number so we can deal with details.”

When I hang up with Katie, Clint turns me around and wraps me in his arms.

“I think I got the gist of it; he got kicked out of the house for not paying the rent and he left the contents behind. Something like that?” His voice rumbles in my ear.

I just nod my head against his chest as confirmation.

“We’ll figure it out.”

Again I’m momentarily stunned with the easy way ‘
we
’ slides off his lips and settles in my heart. How ironic, since just a short while ago I was ready to run in the opposite direction.

“S
hhh, let Grammy sleep for a bit longer, little man.”

I wake up to the high pitched voice of Max and Clint’s quiet rumbling one. With startling clarity, last night’s events filter my sluggish mind. Katie’s call, the news she brought, and the scalding hot exchange between Clint and I it interrupted. After hanging up with her, the momentary heat was cooled and it wasn’t long before Clint suggested we turn in for the night. He left me at the door to my bedroom, with only a peck on my lips, a longing in my chest, and between my legs. I can’t remember much beyond that except crawling in bed and promptly passing out from what I’m sure was emotional fatigue. Only explanation since even now, after sleeping a long night, the needy ache of my body has me restless.

Reaching over the side of the bed, I grab the bag I quickly stuffed with unnecessary clothes we picked up at my house, to find my battery-operated buddy. A quick twist and the depleted batteries drop out and I slip my hand between the mattress where I’ve wedged their replacements. Fumbling under the sheets, one hand wanders to find the coarse hairs on my mound and my slit already wet and swollen. A little shiver has me draw in a quick breath of air as I part my lips with one hand, while the other slides the bulbous tip of my vibrator through, coating it slick and teasing my clit. A quick flick of my thumb and the low-grade buzz, muffled by the covers has me clench in anticipation. Instead of slipping it into my pussy, I slide it back and forth from my clit, where I allow it to linger, all the way to my perineum and teasing the rim of my puckered hole. Muscles already tensing, I know that it won’t take much for me to reach climax. After building anticipation with a few passes between my lips and beyond, I slowly shove the sizable vibrator in my pussy, deep enough so I can feel the deep buzzing inside my channel and the twitching bunny ears hit my now over-sensitized clit. I regret not having more hands to pull and twist my nipples. My breasts ache to be sucked in between strong lips. My hand is working the vibrator in and out at an increasingly punishing pace. My breath hitches and all I hear is the rushing of blood in my ears. Almost. I pull my knees all the way up to my chest and slam the poor replacement for the real thing home hard. Squeezing my eyes shut to imagine Clint between my legs, pumping his big cock inside me, his heavy balls slapping against my ass; I come apart. My muscles squeezing and massaging the inanimate length still vibrating inside me. Out of breath and heart pumping, I fumble for the little switch that turns off the buzzing, which suddenly sounds loud in the small room. With a deep sigh I pull it out of me, leaving me sated and tender.
Good gawd
.

-

-

F
ucking hell.

I’m standing with my forehead pressed to the door of Beth’s bedroom, having just listened to her get herself off with some aid by the sounds of it. Goddammit, I’m so hard I could knock down the door with my cock. I wanted nothing more than to barge in there and watch, having been teased for over a year with just a vague concept of what Beth was hiding under her clothes. I’d planned on biding my time with her, making her needy for me in a controlled manner, but she just blew that plan right out of the water. Fuck, I want to go in there, but I just left Max in the borrowed highchair at the kitchen counter, coming to grab a wet wash cloth from the bathroom to wipe his sticky face. What I want to do with Beth will surely take more than a few quick minutes.

With a hand pressed against my painful hard-on, I walk into the bathroom, grabbing the washcloth I came here for and wetting it at the sink. When I turn around I almost bump into Beth, who’s standing in the door opening, her mouth slack and soft, eyes heavy-lidded, and a deep flush on her cheeks. My growl is unintentional but rather instinctive and has her eyes widen in response. Trying not to stare at the puckered nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her nightshirt, I breathe in the scent of her. I’m sure my eyes betray me, but I stay in full control as I lean into her. Or so I tell myself.

“You always smell good, but the scent of your orgasm makes my mouth water,” I whisper against the shell of her ear before slipping my body by her, making sure to brush against her breasts. A sharp hiss escapes her and is followed by a mumbled, ‘
Holy Christ on a broomstick,’
making me smile. With the satisfaction of knowing the effect I have on her, I walk down the hall to the kitchen—taller than I have in a while.

Finding Max with apple jelly all over his face, as well as the counter, is a small price to pay.

When Beth finds us a little later, sitting on the floor with some of Max’s toy cars, she smiles but it’s tight. Should’ve kept my big trap shut, ‘cause I can see her mentally retreating from the boundaries we’ve started shifting. She turns to the coffee pot in the kitchen. I hoist myself up off the floor, pausing momentarily until the dizziness dissipates, before following her there. I can see the moment she realizes I’m behind her, because her back straightens up and she freezes in place. Not letting it stop me, I step up right behind her, my front to her back.

“Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Bean, but that was fucking hot.”

Like a shot she turns around and plants her palms on my chest trying to shove me back. I simply grab her hands and hold them between our bodies as I back her into the counter.

“Bean? What the hell is that? Some depraved sexual term I’m unfamiliar with?” Despite the fact that her eyes are burning fire into mine, she spits her words through tight lips; she still makes me laugh out loud. Don’t think that earns me any points, though.

“As in jumping bean, woman. It fits you. Nothing sexually depraved about it.”

She still looks dubious when I lean down and whisper close to her face, “Although I can’t lie and say you don’t stir up some depraved sexual fantasies, your interpretation of that name was all your refreshingly dirty mind.”

Rolling her eyes in her head, she wiggles until I loosen my grip on her hands and back away. Only a little.

“You have multiple personalities or something, I’ve never met someone so confusing. One minute you’re the ultimate charming southern gentleman, if you don’t count the sexist default you fall into every now and then. The next you’re a grumpy old coot who is most definitely not for social consumption, and now—now you’re this horny, predatory sex fiend.” She finally manages to slip away from me. This time I make no attempt to stop her.

“I’m gonna call Dylan’s landlord to let him know Mal will be by, and then I have to get ready for work.”

Clearly dismissed, I leave her sitting at the table keeping an eye on Max, who’s happily playing on the floor and making her phone call, to go outside. I need a little cooling off ‘cause things have gone from zero to high octane since last night.

-

I
t’s pretty cold out this morning. Judging by the white residue left behind on the grass by an overnight frost, I have a feeling we’ll be feeling the full effects of winter soon. The backyard is pretty big, but doesn’t necessarily feel that way with quite the number of mature trees dotting the property. Since moving in, I haven’t really done much with the space, other than throw some folding chairs on the patio made up of old pavers. Come spring I want to take some time and build a nice deck out here, but first the tree house. Don’t know how I came up with the idea, but this big old catalpa tree halfway down the yard reminded me of a tree in my parents’ yard growing up. It’d been an old one like this and I remember my father building Jed and I a tree house one summer. That’s what I’d been drawing; my own tree house. Not gonna deny having the little man around didn’t have something to do with it. I happen to think all kids should have a tree house growing up, especially boys. God, the shit Jed and I used to get into. Good thing my parents never found out half of it. But it’d also been the place where I’d kissed my first girl, Becky Fortnoy. Damn I couldn’t have been more then twelve, if that. I chuckle at the memory of the chubby little girl from next door. She’d been Jed’s age, was in his class actually, and he’d been hanging around her with his tongue hanging out for months. I figured being the older brother I’d test the waters for him. Damn, I was a shit back then. He’d been so pissed when he climbed up and found us in a sloppy lip lock, my hand holding on to her little budding breasts that fascinated me to no end. It was weeks before he even talked to me again. Yeah, now I could laugh about it, but then I hadn’t thought it funny when my pops found out and tanned my hide but good. He made sure I was sorry for hitting on my brother’s girl. Well, Pops, Jed got his own back in a big way.