Explicit Detail E-Book

Scarlett Finn

• Herausgeber: Moriona Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

"I make my own rules."

Saving women without hope is part of who Rushe is. At least, that’s what Flick thought. She’s his priority now. All he wants is to keep her safe and in his bed.
 
Domestic bliss is not in the cards for them, danger seeks Rushe out.
 
Her lover knows the rules, but Flick is new to the game. He tries to keep her out of it, tries to keep her safe. But that wasn’t what Flick signed up for.
 
Ready to get her hands dirty, she wades in, ready to prove herself capable. As threats close in on them from all sides, they have to learn to work together before the job drives them apart.
 
Warning: Contains explicit language and imagery. Suitable only for ages 18 and over.            
 

Leseprobe

Copyright © 2014, 2022 Scarlett Finn

Published by Moriona Press 2022

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

First published in 2022

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. It may not be used to train AI software or for the creation of AI works.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.scarlettfinn.com

THE EXPLICIT SERIES

Explicit Instruction

Explicit Detail

Explicit Memory

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For other titles from Scarlett Finn, please read on after the story.

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Enjoy!

CONTENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY-SIX

THIRTY-SEVEN

THIRTY-EIGHT

THIRTY-NINE

FORTY

FORTY-ONE

FORTY-TWO

FORTY-THREE

FORTY-FOUR

FORTY-FIVE

FORTY-SIX

FORTY-SEVEN

FORTY-EIGHT

FORTY-NINE

FIFTY

FIFTY-ONE

FIFTY-TWO

FIFTY-THREE

EPILOGUE

ONE

“Would you relax?”

“No.”

“Ask a stupid question…” Flick muttered to herself, pushing her shoulders back against the poolside chair to tilt her chin toward the blazing sun.

Rushe’s eyes narrowed further. She opted to ignore him. “You’re doing that on purpose,” he growled. “We’re all aware of your tits. You don’t have to put them on show.”

“Rushe, baby, I love you, but we came out to the pool to relax.”

“No, Kitten,” he said. “You came here to relax.”

“You didn’t have to come with me.”

“You’re wearing a bikini,” he said, as though it required no further explanation, and actually… it didn’t.

“If you thought I was the type to run around on you, you’d have dumped me three months ago. You’d have walked out of my studio apartment with Jansen. I wouldn’t have seen you for dust.”

“If I thought you were that type, I’d have chained you to the wall weeks ago.”

“You have… once or twice.” Oversized shades concealed her eyes, but she let her head roll toward him anyway. “You could’ve at least brought a bathing suit… do you own a bathing suit?”

“We didn’t come here to swim. We came here ‘cause you like baiting me.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“You’re wearing a bikini.”

She twisted as she sat to set her feet on the ground between their parallel chairs. Theirs were just two of forty similar loungers arranged around the glistening outdoor pool.

When she tried to glare, the intensity of his burning eyes distracted her. Her love’s concession of the day was removing his tee-shirt. That was a big concession coming from him. One which gave her an up close reminder of how capable he was, how he possessed her… and of how his body lured hers.

“You’re here to protect my virtue from other sexual predators.” Rushe did his own sexual stalking of her on a daily basis. “But when you look at me like that… I’m the only person here.”

“I’m looking at you,” he said. “But I’m aware of exactly where the other thirty-seven men are.”

“You counted them,” she said on a sigh. “Of course you counted them. There must be fifty women here.”

“That I hadn’t noticed.”

Rushe never tried to romance her. Sweet nothings definitely did not feature in his repertoire of skills. But he could charm her. Unintentionally. Somehow, that made it all the more potent… not something she should be aroused by while people surrounded them.

“I’m going to get a drink,” she said, sashaying away from their seats without giving him a chance to retort.

She weaved through various groups of people to reach her aim. As she progressed, she was most conscious of one constant, Rushe’s eyes burning into her spine. His stare was so intense, and already being protected by it was second nature to her.

At the refreshment stand, she ordered for herself and Rushe too. As the vendor disappeared to fill the order, she drummed her fingernails on the counter.

“Let me buy that for you.”

Uh oh. She didn’t want to turn around and give face to the words. One thing was for sure, they hadn’t come from Rushe’s mouth.

“No, thanks,” she said, leaning over the counter seeking the drinks guy, silently pleading with him to hurry up.

“A beautiful thing like you shouldn’t be buying her own drinks.”

“I’m not,” she said. “My boyfriend opened a tab when we arrived.”

“Is that your standard response? You must get hit on a lot.”

“Not so much recently, if I’m honest.”

These days she was aware of drawing men’s attention. Partly because her more recently found vigilance made her look around. The other part? Rushe. He went on high alert when men looked at her.

“I’ll change that if you turn around and talk to me,” he said.

“No, actually, that’s not a good idea.”

“What do you mean—”

“Problem?”

Yep. They definitely had one now.

“No problem,” she sang, cursing her need for hydration.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Rushe said.

She spun to see him looming over the man who’d spoken to her. “Said boyfriend,” she said by way of explanation. “I did try to warn you.”

Rushe hadn’t been having fun… until he had this hapless victim in his sights. He would remind her it was impossible to be a hundred percent sure of someone’s intentions. This guy didn’t pose an obvious threat, but her love had been bored, now he had sport.

This couldn’t end well. At least it couldn’t end well for the guy who didn’t have a shred of a tan left. His pallor likely had more to do with the invisible pressure Rushe exerted than the lack of sunlight.

“Maybe we should go,” she said.

Though her words were vague, the intent of her intonation was to convey her adamance.

“You’re having fun,” Rushe said, without taking his attention from the shrinking man.

“I was having fun,” she said.

Though sitting by the pool hadn’t been fun so much as foreplay.

Rushe was commanding in the bedroom at the best of times. But subtle actions on her part could push him closer to the edge. Her love took what he wanted, when he wanted it, and she didn’t make a habit of refusing him. In fact, she could count on one hand the number of times she had.

The stranger spoke up, “Man, I didn’t mean anything by it. She’s a good looking woman and—”

“Trust me, you’re only making things worse,” she said, coiling her fingers around Rushe’s wrist. “I want to go home now.”

“I’m busy,” Rushe grumbled, in that way when his lips didn’t move.

“Ignore him, he intimidates for a living,” she said.

Rushe didn’t say anything. As the guy shrank even further back, her nails dug deeper into her love.

“He’s good at it,” the guy stuttered.

“I want to have sex,” she said.

“I don’t,” Rushe replied.

“Yes, you do. You’re just being ornery.”

“And you’re trying to distract me.”

“Even so,” she said. “You get sex out of the deal.”

“If I want sex, I get sex. I say when.”

Rushe knew how to take control and liked to imply sex was for his pleasure above all else. But when his pleasure came from controlling her orgasms time and again, she was okay with the illusion.

“I want sex now, and if you won’t supply…”

She released his wrist but didn’t get two inches away before Rushe’s hand snapped up to seize her wrist.

“You want me to hurt people?”

“No,” she said. “Hurting them is your choice. All I’m looking for is a little attention… topless sunbathing is allowed around here, isn’t it?”

Rushe’s growl wasn’t audible, but she felt it all the same. Her smile spread. She’d achieved her goal… both of them knew it.

“I’ll get the car.”

He turned and hooked her hand into his back jean’s pocket. She laid her smile briefly on Rushe’s stricken almost-victim while trotting along behind her love. Judging by the strength and the breadth of his gait, he was sufficiently tormented to make every second of their next joining count.

TWO

No one would miss that Rushe was dangerous. Her first encounter with him had been in voice only. Back then, the deep resonance of his tone stopped her in her tracks. Just a shame she hadn’t heeded the instruction his words gave.

Although if she had, she wouldn’t be with him now. Funny what she’d had to endure to find the most important thing in her world. Every second was worth it. He was worth it.

Walking into that bar, in spite of Rushe’s warning, threw her into the path of criminal depravity. Much to her shock and confusion, Rushe protected her. Until it was safe to free her from the criminals’ hideout, he’d kept her under his wing. When the time was right, he’d cast her out. His harsh behavior saved her life. Except the evil brought her back, twice. Each time Rushe protected her, to his own detriment, until…

By then, they were both in deep and at the penultimate play had confessed their love. The truth was revealed when there was no way out. When they thought losing their lives was guaranteed.

To that day, she wasn’t sure how they’d made it out alive. The odds had been stacked against them. Liberating Rushe from his confines had ensured she and Jansen, the undercover cop working with her, came out on top.

With most of the criminals dead or behind bars, she’d had a choice. Remain in her mediocre life, with a sub-par job, without friends to trust, and estranged from her family, or she could be with the man she loved.

The decision wasn’t difficult.

Rushe was a man with a checkered past, a vagrant lifestyle, and some serious trust issues. He wasn’t on any system; the system had failed him from almost the moment he was born. He’d never known his parents, never had family, and always relied on himself.

One tragic episode in Rushe’s pre-teen years shaped the path of his life. A woman he’d barely known was tortured and killed. Though he’d witnessed the attackers carry the woman away, he’d been powerless to stop them.

To look at the man he was now, it was difficult to believe he could ever be powerless. That was because he’d spent his life ensuring he never would be again.

She stretched her toes in her sandals and wiggled them while peeking at his solid form in the driver’s seat. He hadn’t said a word since he’d powered out of the pool parking lot. But they were nearly home, and she struggled to keep her eager anticipation in check.

During the mission that brought her and Rushe together, she’d been held for a ransom that Rushe paid. After, he’d told her that the job paid well and he knew people, whatever that meant.

His bank balance was healthy, but he lived modestly. His car wasn’t new, his apartment decent. Rushe didn’t care where they lived or about things. She’d asked why a boy raised with nothing wouldn’t take full advantage of his improved means. His response had broken her heart.

“It doesn’t pay to get attached to anything,” he’d said. “Attachment is another word for weakness.”

Men like him didn’t get attached. No matter how many times Rushe said those words to her, he hadn’t been able to resist their bond. He’d told her he resented their love, but he didn’t really. The contempt wasn’t resentment, it was fear, and men like Rushe didn’t experience fear.

Having her, accepting their union, was a risk, and he tried to minimize those. Now that they had each other, Rushe’s emotional issues flared up. He feared trusting her, and their feelings for each other, because losing her, or letting her down, was his biggest burden.

A button on the dash opened the shutters for their underground parking lot. Rushe drove down the ramp to park in their usual spot.

“So, Lover…” she said into the ether. “What now?”

“Sex.”

There was the monosyllabic man she loved and adored. As he slammed out of the car, she dawdled over unfastening her seatbelt. As she predicted, her side door was wrenched open, and he hauled her out without finesse.

The moment he pressed the elevator call button, the doors opened, as though the carriage was intimidated by Rushe’s mood too. A few seconds later, a ding declared them on their floor, and he pulled her down the hall to their door.

The apartment was spacious, with half the external wall made up of windows from the ceiling down. To the left upon entering was a solid partition, hiding the otherwise open-plan kitchen from the rest of the living space.

He dragged her past the dividing kitchen countertop to the alcove hallway, which led to the other rooms: a family bathroom and two bedrooms. The second bedroom was presently half study, half gym. The latter was a necessity for a guy like Rushe.

He hung a right into their corner master suite. They had a wall of built-in storage, and their private shower room was accessible at the other side of the bed.

In the bedroom, Rushe relaxed, and with a generous nudge he sent her stumbling onto the bed. Before she could steady herself, he grabbed her hips to pull them up, getting an eyeful of her ass.

His grunt of satisfaction made her smile, and while his hand skimmed her curves, she straightened her arms to prop herself up on all fours. Describing Rushe’s skills as a lover never did them justice. He’d told her she was the only woman he’d made love to in his entire life, and she believed it. This man, her man, didn’t do soft, not at first. Her patience paid dividends.

Rushe’s fingers traveled over her bathing suit down, between her legs, until they found her opening.

With slight pressure, he began to circle it. “You think you’re smart, don’t you, Kitten? You think you’re a bad girl. You think you’re tough… Playing games with me is dangerous, Kitten, very dangerous.”

Curling one finger around the crotch of her suit, he pulled it aside to plunge two fingers into her. Yes. Oh, yes, she pushed back to meet them.

“Oh,” Rushe said with that dry, sinister amusement he utilized so well. “I know you like that, Kitten. I know just what you want. You’re my horny little slut, pleasure on demand, that’s what you are to me…”

His fingers withdrew, but the bite of disappointment didn’t last. He dragged her suit down her thighs, just enough to reveal her most intimate corner, then he stopped. Everything stopped.

“Are you going to fuck me?” she asked, trying hard not to beg or show impatience despite the rising heat of blood rushing through her veins.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

She hadn’t meant to sound quite so indignant.

His heavy hand smacked her ass in immediate punishment. “You been screwing around?”

“What?” she barked, astounded by the insane question.

“Your little boyfriend might like the attitude but don’t forget your place here. You get it when I give it, and you’ll be grateful for it.”

She always was.

Always.

She would never have imagined her life looking like this. Could never have imagined playing their games or that she’d enjoy them so much.

“Up,” he commanded. She jumped off the bed, tugging up her suit, finding herself right up close to the bearer of those arousing words. “You got something to say?”

“Sorry,” she said. His head tilted a few degrees. “Sorry, sir.”

“Strip.”

She was almost as close to naked as someone could get without going all the way. But she did as told, taking careful time to untie each knot, the one behind her neck, the one on her left hip…

Rushe bared his teeth in familiar frustration. While he gave the orders, she held the power. The control… Almost. Before she reached the next knot, his thick, muscular arm came around her waist to haul her body against his. It took a few seconds to register his damp, devouring lips and the slick heat of his tongue invading her mouth.

When they’d met, Rushe hadn’t been a kisser. That changed after they made love for the first time. He gave her so much, more of himself than he’d ever given anyone.

Coiling her arms around his neck, she prepared for their mouths to battle it out a while. So when in the next breath, he thrust her away, she reeled.

“Let’s see those cans.”

Rushe loved her breasts. Then again, he loved every part of her.

Twisting her arms around to her back, she untied the top and let it flutter to the floor. Her love said nothing. His gaze gobbled her breasts as though this was their first encounter.

Rushe didn’t have to move closer, he lifted his arms and cupped a breast in each hand, testing their weight, their texture, their responsiveness. She’d never been a fan of the large breasts that dominated her meagre five three stature… not until Rushe laid his eyes, and his hands, on them.

“You’ve got a body made for sin, whore,” Rushe said, rolling her nipples then caressing their very tips in the way he knew drove her wild.

“Rushe,” she sighed, relaxing into his hold.

“You talk when I tell you to.”

She could only nod. Her eyes closed, anticipating his mouth, yearning for it. With his skill, he could torment her for hours playing with her breasts, her figure. His entitlement over her was enthralling, his ownership gave her an intoxicating power. She wanted him to be entitled, to possess her body and her pleasure.

“Naked.” With his one stern word, she untied the last knot, finally presenting herself for him, bare, without barriers. “Just my insignificant plaything.”

Her eyes remained closed, reveling in the wonder of his voice. Each of them lived in awe of the other. In amazement they would choose to love and live with each other.

She opened her eyes to his and moved her hand slightly toward his fly. “Can I…?”

Rushe shook his head. “On your knees.”

A shimmer of arousal quaked her and he didn’t miss it. He hadn’t bothered putting his tee-shirt back on, it still hung tucked in at the back of his jeans. So close to his sculpted form, it was difficult to resist the urge to touch, to taste, but he’d just given her implicit access to his most valuable asset… or the physical one she valued most in moments like this anyway.

Taking his order, she descended to her knees, her attention trained on his all the way. Sometimes she was meant to retrieve him, and sometimes he took the lead. She awaited further instruction and after eight seconds, his hand moved to the top of her head.

“You like to show off your stacked little body, Kitten. You like playing with me. You think you can push my buttons? Speak.”

“No,” she said.

In the moment it appeared he meant to respond, he was distracted by her tongue moistening her lips. “You lying to me?” he asked eventually. “Are you allowed to do that? Speak.”

“No.”

“You think you can push my buttons?”

Either her lungs had shrunk or the air in there was thinning, because her chest pulsed with the desperate shallow breaths that were all she could muster. “Yes.”

THREE

She was right, though he didn’t acknowledge or deny it. Unbuckling his belt, she sucked her lips in around her teeth ready to consume him. Like a starving animal, she shuffled forward a few inches.

“You dirty little skank,” Rushe muttered. With a tug, he loosened the buttons on his jeans. Running his fingers through her hair from forehead to crown, he coiled them into a tight fist. “You want it? You wanna suck my cock? Do you? Speak.”

“Yes.”

“You hungry for it? You gonna suck the spunk from my balls? You want it? Speak.”

“Yes.”

On that syllable, he opened his jeans to liberate the heavy organ. It jutted up, hard, long, insistent. It might be daunting, sure was in their early days, but she didn’t fear it, not anymore. Over the last few months, her technique had improved, and Rushe had no issue with her getting in as much practice as possible.

Guiding her toward his groin, Rushe shifted forward a step and took himself in his other hand to touch the tip of his bulging head to her sealed lips.

“You’re my whore, open.”

Unlocking her jaw, her sticky lips parted as he yanked her forward and plunged in deep. The blunt top of his cock hit the back of her throat. Sliding out, he painted her lips with his pre-seed and urged himself into her cheek, undulating back and forth, reminding her of his mass. She tried to reposition, to direct him to the back of her mouth again, but his grip in her hair bit deeper, locking her in position.

“You’re a greedy little slut,” Rushe grumbled. “This isn’t for your pleasure.”

No, maybe not, but she loved it all the same. He surged into her throat, catching her off guard, so she didn’t have the time to inhale. Rushe held for a couple of seconds then moved out and back in, stretching the confines of her throat half a dozen times, each advance slower than the last.

Retreating, he left her mouth entirely and bumped her aside. The taste of him on her lips gave her a craving for more. She flopped against the edge of the mattress, tucking her feet underneath herself.

Rushe sat on the edge of the bed, his denim clad thigh only a few inches from her head. He bent to unlace his boots, as if he had all the time in the world.

“Rushe,” she sighed, angling her cheek to gaze up at him.

“You like it when I fuck that sweet little mouth of yours. You get what I give you. It’s not feeding time yet.”

He stood to shirk his jeans. As soon as he was naked, he took hold of her hair again, this time lifting his cock to ease her closer. She licked her lips and kissed the base of him before sucking on his balls. Yes, he knew how to pleasure her, but she knew how to return the favor. Using gentle pressure, she clasped and bounced them. She didn’t hear his groan, it vibrated through him and into her.

The hand on the top of her head shifted until both were on the back of her skull. That was her invitation to take control. She parted her lips and took him into her mouth again. With a long suck, she held position. Releasing the vacuum of suction, she slurped him in and out. Exploring the ridges and grooves of his member again, she toyed with his testicles, placed kisses where she could, then pulled him into her throat again, sucking him in and letting her hand follow him out.

With another push his hands balled tight in her hair to increase her pace, forcing himself deeper until all she could do was breathe.

Extending her arms up between them, she dug her nails into his torso, scratching her way down to his groin until with a roar of possession, he surged into her throat and his thick, salty milk flowed into her belly.

His fast, shallow breathing was a thrill. Sometimes it still amazed her that she could do it for him. Long after she’d swallowed him, he stayed in her mouth. Maybe he’d forgotten. When she swallowed again, he twitched, and withdrew.

“On the bed,” he said. “On your back.”

She climbed up and landed on her back. Bringing her bare heels up to her rear, her knees fell apart, just how he liked her to present. Then, she waited.

“That snug little cunt of yours hungry?” he asked. She nodded. “If you weren’t such a greedy little whore, I’d be fucking you right now. You want me to fuck you? Do you?” She nodded. “Speak.”

“Yes.”

His dirty talk got her deep every time. With just a few words, he could take her close to the edge. Now that they were together, he played it up, pushing further each time. Their deep-rooted trust allowed their sexual play to become almost like theatre. Each knew their roles, both worked hard to get the other riled more every time. It was a game. A saucy, sexy exchange that stirred them into a stimulated, lustful frenzy.

“You liked showing off those hot titties today? You’re a little whore, out parading for those pretty boys… Those tits are mine. Your pussy is mine. Your body belongs to me. You do with it what I tell you. Speak.”

“Yes, sir.”

He opened his hand. “Ankle.”

She stretched her leg toward him, he grabbed her ankle and thrust it up, yanking her closer to the edge of the bed. He bit the ball of her foot, then kissed it. He kissed her instep, her heel, her ankle. Crouching lower, he rested her calf on his shoulder and put a knee to the mattress between hers.

The anticipation prickled her skin.

His rough hand skimmed down her leg to the back of her knee, and she sighed at the delicate magic touch that trailed electricity in its wake. He’d found a soft spot there on the back of her knee that poured heavy embers into her abdomen, every hair on her body responded in salute.

“You don’t deserve to be fucked, not after that stunt today.”

“I’m sorry, Lover, I—”

“No,” he said, slapping his other hand on her still bent knee. “You’re gonna learn that playing with me has consequences.”

Falling to his knees on the floor beside the bed, she was surprised when Rushe hooked her other leg over his shoulder and yanked her butt to the edge of the bed. He kissed her clit and ran his tongue down the seam of her body to push into her vacant passage. Her eyes sank shut as she wriggled against his advance. When his tongue retreated from within, he directed his attention back to her clit, flicking it repeatedly, he sucked it between his teeth and salved it with his tongue.

His arms came around her thighs and each of his thumbs pushed down the inside of her outer labia, narrowing the space his tongue played in, concentrating her pleasure.

“Rushe,” she whimpered.

“You’re dirty, Kitten. Dirty and desperate, you’re fucking drenched. I’m drinking you down in mouthfuls. What’s in your head now?”

“I’m thinking about your mouth, about your tongue, your hands, how you torment me.”

Instantly, his mouth abandoned its post. She lifted her head to see his frowning eyes over her pubis.

“I torment you?”

“You know how you do,” she said, crossing her legs at the back of his neck. “You know how much I want you.” She constricted her legs slightly. “How much I love you.”

She tightened further, but he got a hold of her ankles and ducked out of her vice.

“You’re gonna pay for that manipulation,” he said, rising to full height before her. “Maybe I leave you without.”

Until then, he’d never left her sexually unsatisfied, but he wasn’t the type to make false promises. Skimming her palms over her breasts, she stroked and squeezed, watching his eyes light and flare. She knew how to get her guy.

He shook his head. “Hands off. I didn’t say you could play with my toys.”

With force, he grabbed her knees and shunted her to the center of the bed then came down upon her. Taking a breast in each hand, he mimicked her squeeze and rolled her nipples. Dipping his head, he pinged one with his tongue, but the pampering didn’t last long.

His face appeared above hers again. “Sex. The only thing a man thinks when he looks at you is sex. You weren’t teasing them today; in his head, each one of those guys nailed you good. They were thinking about your body, what they’d do to your hot, tight ass.”

Sweeping his arms under her, he took a butt cheek in each hand and adjusted her angle. His thickness took up residence in his tongue’s playground, in a delectable, pleasurable torture.

“You belong to me, Kitten. You do what I tell you. No other man will ever touch you. If I see it again… if I have to watch one more man approach and threaten my property, I’ll kill him, Felicity. I don’t want any man near you.”

“He didn’t threaten me.” Her love despised being out of control, but until that moment she hadn’t realized how much that day riled him. “Lover…?”

“You’re gonna see one day…”

“See what?”

“You’re gonna see what I’m capable of.”

“I know what you’re capable of,” she said. “I’ve been with you, we’ve been through it together.”

“That was nothing.”

There was more to his words than the physical. Something was going on in his head. “You’ve got something to lose now,” she said, her fingers running into his hair. “That’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of nothing.”

“You don’t work alone anymore, Rushe. I stand by that. There isn’t anything—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Kitten. You think it’s over. You think this is it. You think we’re past the danger.”

“We are.”

“Danger is what I do,” he said, with a shake of his head. “I’ve turned down a couple of dozen jobs these last three months because…”

“Because?”

“Nothing.”

Just because they did it every day didn’t mean it ever got boring. His hips rose and he thrust into her, forging a path of familiar union.

Familiar, but unexpected. “Oh, God, Rushe,” she inhaled in surprise.

He withdrew and advanced, his lazy frequency crossed her eyes and moved her hips.

“That feel better?” he asked, grazing his nose down hers and licking her lower lip before he sucked it into his mouth. “You forget all about your troubles, my predictable little slut. I’ll take care of everything. You think about my cock, Kitten. Think about it every second of the day. You keep my dick happy, and you’ll have everything you could ever want… You thinking about my dick?” This time he held himself steady, half-in, half-out. “What do you want? Ask me.”

“I want you to fuck me, Rushe,” she breathed, opening her eyes to meet his.

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling back further. “I’m not convinced.”

“Please,” she said, locking her ankles at his lower back in hope of bringing him deeper.

“You’re not stronger than me,” he said, fully aware of what she was trying to do. “You get it when I give it.”

“Please fuck me, Rushe. Please!”

“You learned your lesson?” She nodded. The very corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “I fucking doubt it.”

Pushing in, he filled all of her making it impossible to resist the urge to squeeze herself around him. When he froze, she curled her legs higher, tighter.

“More, please, sir… fuck me.”

“Felicity Hughes,” he murmured. “You’re gonna fucking kill me one day.”

She didn’t like the statement, and wasn’t sure of the sentiment, but he wiped away her worries by driving in fast. He picked up the pace until the knots in her stomach clamped tight. She was up for another ride to remember.

FOUR

Many, many hours later, she yawned into the darkness and stretched herself out on the body she called her bed each night. The opportune lump in her mattress tempted her to wriggle south.

Rushe’s chest fell in a regular pattern that betrayed he was still sleeping. Running her hands the width of his shoulders to his neck, she stroked the stubble on his jaw, and pressed on his chest as she slithered south.

Her intention had been to pleasure him awake, but her pussy kissed the rod she’d slept on, the temptation was too much to resist. She sat up, keeping him steady in one hand to spear herself deep. Still in the half-mist of sleep, she wriggled, side to side, in small circles, in a figure of eight.

Before Rushe, only one man had been inside her. All other sexual encounters had ended prematurely. Even after kissing and rolling around with other men, she’d never felt the urge to go all the way… then there was Rushe.

So despite being in her late twenties, she was still learning what to do sexually. What she liked, what Rushe did, what got each of them off, what worked.

Continuing her assault, she leaned back a little and nudged the head of his cock against a sensitive spot inside her. Resting her hands on his thighs, she lifted slightly. At this angle, she got him to the optimum ecstasy point and kept on rocking and writhing. She was almost lost to it when she heard a rapping noise.

Her body tensed. Her senses went on alert. She strained to listen and see if she could hear it again. The rapid knock was insistent. Only a couple of seconds later, it came again.

“Rushe,” she whispered, slapping her hands to his chest. “Rushe.”

On a grumpy mutter, he sucked in a breath.

Even though he didn’t open his eyes, he spoke. “Sex.”

“No,” she said, unsure if he was awake. “I mean yes, we’re having sex, but—”

The knock came again, and Rushe’s eyes instantly opened. In an involuntary but flattering act, he observed her naked figure straddling him and his embedded member pulsed in satisfaction.

“Can’t get you off my cock, can I?”

The knock sounded again, and he sat up.

“Is this it?” she asked. “The danger coming to us?”

The drawer in the nightstand on Rushe’s side began to buzz. He reached past her to open it and retrieved a small black pager she’d never seen before. She also couldn’t see the glowing screen he now read.

The knock distracted her again. “Should I get dressed? Do I need a weapon?”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Rushe said. With an arm around her waist for support, he dipped her back to kiss each of her nipples. “Don’t touch. I’ll finish you off when I get back.”

He lifted her body away from his, but she snatched his neck. “Back? You’re not going anywhere without me. What’s going on?”

“No time to explain, Kitten.”

“But—”

“No,” he said without humor, so she let him remove her hands from his body.

Still with the pager in one hand, he grabbed his jeans from the floor to put them on.

She sat alone and naked in the middle of the mattress, feeling hollow now that he no longer occupied her body or her bed. “I love you,” she said as he clipped the pager onto his belt.

His eyes flicked to hers. “I’m not gonna die. I’m going into the living room, that’s it.”

She snatched the corner of their sheet to her chest. “You’re inviting them in here?”

The knocking continued. Either the person didn’t know not to piss off Rushe by hurrying him, or they were frantic.

When he observed her action and her position his brows clamped down. “You think I would let anyone hurt you?” He approached the bed again. “Do you think I would let anyone into our home who’d hurt you?” He stole the sheet from her hands and tossed it off the end of the bed.

“I—”

“Up!” Rushe demanded.

“But—”

“Up!”

She rose to her knees and walked on them to the side where he stood. “They’re still out there.”

“They’ll wait,” he growled, without moving his lips. “This…” he grabbed her breasts, “is mine.”

“I know.”

One hand began to work her nipple, while the other glided down her sensitive waist to her hip and descended to cup between her legs.

“No one touches what’s mine. You’ll always be safe here.”

“I know,” she said, hooking her hands into his jeans pockets to rest her weight on him. “But I still love you.”

“I know.” At the same time she kissed his jaw, one of his fingers jabbed into her up to his knuckle, taking her by surprise. “I’ll wake you when I’m done.”

As he departed, he took his invading finger into his mouth to clean her taste from his digit.

FIVE

She trusted Rushe’s instinct. He regularly gave her commands to obey… though, if they weren’t sex related, it was hit or miss whether she’d comply with them.

They’d known each other for less than half a year, but with the gravity of what they’d experienced together, they understood each other’s essence. Again, not something she’d say to him. But that night reminded her she didn’t know all of what he was or everything about him.

She’d trust Rushe with her life and had done so in the past. Still, questions zoomed through her mind just like they hung in Rushe’s aura. But she wouldn’t push, not with a potential threat in the next room.

This was the part she struggled with the most. Not so much the being left out, though she didn’t like that, more the temptation of information just out of reach. Her curiosity grew. Lying there in their bed, alone, listening to the distant murmur of voices drifting through, she felt helpless and didn’t like it. He’d spoken about them working together, but so far, hadn’t had the whisper of work. At least that was what she’d believed until his declaration he’d been turning jobs down.

Rushe was selective. In describing what he did, he’d told her he was “…the guy people come to when every other avenue has been exhausted.” More curiosity. Being with him gave her confidence. He provided a security she’d never had in her life before. In return, Rushe got acceptance from her. She’d never tried to change him, and never would.

But he’d been out in their living room for an hour with whomever had been battering down their front door. She wouldn’t sleep with them out there. Strangers, and unknowns, weren’t conducive to slumber. Telling her he’d wake her was wishful thinking on Rushe’s part. It was also his way of telling her to stay out of it. Another thing he should know better about her.

Sick of lying there wondering, she punched the mattress to sit up. Being there helped no one, and she didn’t want to be out of the loop. Rushe would take care of her from a distance forever if she let him, but she didn’t want to be treated like glass. From the moment they’d met, he treated her as a woman, he didn’t handle her with kid gloves. Just because she didn’t want him to change didn’t mean he hadn’t.

Decision made, she tiptoed out of the bed and swept his tee-shirt up from the floor. After tucking her head and arms into the fabric, she opened the bedroom door a fraction.

The bass of Rushe’s voice carried to her immediately. “What do you want me to do about it?” he asked.

She crept out the narrow gap and pulled the door almost closed behind her. Staying in the shallow hallway, she pressed her back to the wall and skimmed along it.

“You going into retirement?” an unknown male asked.

“Maybe,” Rushe said.

“I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Who was that guy? Rushe didn’t have friends. In their time living together, the only person to come to their door was the pizza guy. Her love didn’t even own a phone, though, apparently, he owned a pager.

“Rushe, you’re the guy for this… the only guy.”

Inching closer, she turned to press her chest to the wall and peeked around the edge. Three men sat in their living room. Rushe was closest, with his back to her. One man sat opposite him on another couch. At the top of the coffee table, in the armchair with its back to the window, was a second unknown man.

“You haven’t—”

The man opposite Rushe stopped talking, prompting the guy in the armchair to look up and ask, “What?”

“You got company?” the couch man asked. The guy in the armchair followed his attention, and she ducked back to hide again. “This about some whore? You want us out so you get your money’s worth? Shit, what did you pay her? I’ll give you double to get the fuck out of here, darlin’!”

The last sentence was for her. Any shame at being caught spying evaporated into outrage.

“I beg your pardon!” she retorted, leaving her hiding spot to march toward them.

“You shut up,” Rushe said, getting to his feet faster than she’d seen him move in a while.

“I’m not a whore!”

“Yeah, you are,” Rushe said.

She’d thought her love was telling the couch guy to shut up. When he skirted the furniture making a beeline for her, she re-thought that assumption.

“What is going on here?” she asked.

“Bedroom,” Rushe commanded.

“No,” she replied, looking him in the eye when he bore down upon her.

“Now.”

That snarl and those bullet black eyes were familiar. The thunder that emanated around him had flared in the past too. She had seen it intimidate men into humiliation… she was immune.

“I’m not—”

“Now!”

Rushe got hold of her. When she tried to resist, he hooked an arm around her stomach and swung her up into his arms. She fought, because she always did, but she kept her mouth shut until he got them back into the bedroom and tossed her on the bed.

As the bedroom door slammed, she scrambled up to her knees. Her intention was to get back on her feet, but Rushe closed the space between them and blocked her from leaving the bed.

“When the fuck are you gonna do what you’re told?” he roared.

“Did you hear what he said? He thinks I’m a hooker!”

“Good!”

That took her aback. “You love me. You’re happy with him disrespecting—”

“First off…” Rushe started, “there’s nothing fucking shameful ‘bout being a hooker. I know some damn fine hookers, some do it by choice. Others are forced into it, but… it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“You’ve slept with hookers?”

From the way his expression relaxed, it was obvious her naivety entertained him. “Yes.”

She smacked his chest. “Why?”

“A guy has needs, Kitten. The only thing better than a good fuck is a woman who doesn’t ask questions. Hookers don’t fall in love with their clients. They don’t give a fuck who you are or what you’re doing. They fuck and run, perfect for guys like me.”

“You paid for sex?”

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no.”

“I’m learning there are few absolutes where you’re concerned. You had relationships with these women?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Rushe said. “When I tell you to stay, you stay.”

“I don’t,” she said. “When have I ever done what I’m told?” His attention flitted to the bed. “Apart from in bed.”

“If I tell you it’s a sex game, will you stay?”

She wasn’t convinced and hoped her blank expression conveyed that. “It arouses you to have me out of the loop?”

“It arouses me to have you safe,” he said, all teasing over. “If you’re dead, who’s gonna screw with me every chance they get?”

“I do not!”

Rushe snagged her hands and stuffed them in his jeans pockets. “If they think you’re a whore, they won’t look twice. It’s nothing to have a hooker in my bed. But if they think… I don’t have relationships. I sure don’t have long-term commitments.”

Conceding some, she formed fists in his pockets and leaned forward, tucking her head under his jaw. “I’d be expensive.”

The single bob of his chest released one low bassy note of a laugh. “Yeah, Kitten, I pay for you every day.”

He wasn’t talking money. She pressed her cheek closer, turning her face to kiss his chest. While still kissing him, her fists relaxed just enough to find the length of him, still imprisoned in denim. He was already hard, because of her actions, or just because of her presence?

Kissing up to his throat, she was surprised when he lowered his chin to urge her away enough to meet her mouth. His hands cradled her face to control the merging of their lips in a calm but insistent kiss.

Rushe had to be aware of the men in the living room; to be doing this now he had to trust them. If they had sex with others in the apartment, they’d be vulnerable. But this wasn’t a sex kiss, or rather it wasn’t a regular sex kiss. His devotion encompassed her and increased when his hands slid around and down her back. As he lifted her, she took her hands from his pockets and wrapped her legs around his hips.

“Rushe,” she whispered when he trailed kisses to her throat.

The heat of bliss circled her brain, making her heavy, her head fell back under its own weight, giving Rushe a larger area to work with. He laid her on the bed, his weight still in control of hers when they landed in the soft cocoon of their nest.

Once again, his mouth kissed its way up to hers, and with the sweep of his tongue on her lip she opened wide. Torn between snatching his hair to keep him in place, and freeing him from his jeans, she didn’t notice one of his hands leaving her body as the other snaked under her tee-shirt to fumble with her breast. Arching into the caress she craved, his belt buckle won out.

He caught her hand, delaying its journey, she expected him to direct it to exactly where he wanted it. She tightened her legs around him and let her love stretch her arm above her head. His other hand took her wrist, something cold and metallic touched her skin.

Her eyes opened, but it was too late. On the familiar grating snick, she tried to tug her hands free, but they stayed put. He’d locked the handcuffs to her wrists around one of the metal bars of the headboard.

“Rushe!”

The rogue told her she tormented him and then had the audacity to do this. Fastened in place, bound, kept prisoner, in what had become her own bed!

He conveyed no apology just pulled her legs away from his hips. When he sat up, he raised her tee-shirt to expose her body and kissed one nipple then the other.

“Stop that!” she said.

He continued to tease her breasts with his mouth, burying his face in her cleavage. “You gave me a free pass, Kitten.”

She couldn’t argue because she had done exactly that, just as he had. Their open consent was the reason she took the liberty of using his erection without asking for permission when he was still asleep.

Rushe made such a huge deal of consent when they started sleeping together. Even after they’d been having sex for quite a while, he still asked her for consent every time. So she’d made an exaggerated plea of granting him full and permanent access. Consent was important to him, and she knew why. But after a long discussion, and constant reassurance on her part, they’d agreed consent would be presumed. They even established a safe word to use if they wanted the other to stop what they were doing.

Showing him the truth of the trust she had in him, a trust she’d never experienced with anyone else, was crucial. It meant everything to him, he cherished it. Even if he didn’t say it aloud, it was obvious in his uncertainty. Giving him that faith somehow translated to a responsibility he took seriously. He didn’t want to let her down.

Her responsibility to him was as valuable to her. When he claimed her as his, it gave her a sense of completeness. She wanted to be owned by him. Maybe later, in the course of what he did, he’d have to rent out his body to be away from her. Wherever he was, he belonged to her just as much as she did to him, even if neither of them said it regularly.

“This is not okay,” she said but didn’t use the safe word. Neither of them ever had. Probably never would. “I’m not having sex with you for a month.”

“Seems like that’s up to me,” he said, slipping a finger inside her, following it with another.

“You’re going to leave me here and go back out there,” she said, gritting her teeth, fighting to ignore the warmth of his mouth on the underside of her breast, and the pressure building around his fingers in her pussy.

“You’re safe in here,” Rushe said, licking his way up to her nipple.

“I’m safe in any room you’re in.”

The curl of his lips around her breast was so gratifying, she sighed. Rushe never smiled. He just didn’t. Well, he did, and she’d seen it around the apartment on a somewhat regular basis. But outside, or in situations with others, it was gone, locked away in a place she hadn’t found yet.

“Good girl.” Rushe pressed her clit, massaging it while drawing her nipple deeper into his mouth.

His other hand squeezed her neglected breast and a yelp of bliss escaped her. The slope of orgasm was long; her lover kept working his mouth and hands until he’d coaxed her through every aftershock.

Then, in a snap, his body leaped from hers and he was on his feet by the bed like he hadn’t just completely undone her.

She panted through the endorphin haze marring her vision. “You’re a real bastard.”

“I know.”

“Who are those people?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rushe said, perusing her exposed figure.

“You expect me to trust you?”

“Yes.”

“When you don’t trust me?”

His perusal halted. “Explain.”

“If you don’t let me in… you don’t trust me to understand or you don’t trust me to accept it. Has to be one of the two.”

“You don’t need to know.”

“No,” she said, her body sank into the bed as every part of her deflated in dejection. “A whore is only good for one thing.”

“Kitten—”

“Go to work,” she said.

Rushe was a man of few words. Though he carried frustration in his gaze, he departed the bedroom, closing the door, leaving her alone, restrained, exactly where he wanted her.

He’d been putting off work to avoid this. She realized that now. Jobs meant questions he didn’t want to answer. Understanding his work meant sacrifice was one thing, but if he expected her to let him walk out the door and disappear for months, he had another thing coming. Yes, he’d worked alone for years, when he didn’t have a choice. What he didn’t understand yet was that he had no choice now either.

She hadn’t signed on to this life expecting to sit at home and be the dutiful little woman. What if he needed back up out there? Wasn’t like she’d never helped him out of a jam before. Both of them had almost lost their lives; their unity was the only thing that saved them.

All her life, she’d been an information gatherer. Her work in the National Library research department whetted her appetite for investigation. When she left her previous life be with Rushe, she did it to be of help. Of course, they loved each other, but she had told him straight she wouldn’t simply be a female for him to fuck. She wasn’t going to be a hooker: live off his money and be around to service him when he demanded it.

The last three months had been spent talking and learning each other… and a lot of sex, a helluva lot of sex. Some laughs too. Rushe might not be a smiler, but he occasionally let her make him laugh; his ultra-dry sense of humor had often left her in stitches. She’d asked him to show her some fighting techniques, but he’d insisted she would never need them. After a lot of persuasion, he had shown her a couple of moves, but it quickly became a naked workout session on the gym mat… which was probably his plan all along. At the time, she hadn’t cared enough to push the issue.