As I draw back on my cigarette, I crack the window open just enough to let the smoke out that’s collected within the big open space. I lean back against the waist-height windowsill, and just watch her while I enjoy my cigarette. Her curves are sensational. They roll in all the right places. God, I can’t get enough of your body, honeybee.
She rolls over and watches me. Her smile is slight, just enough to tell me she likes what she sees. Having a cigarette with a view of a gorgeous woman after four solid hours of fucking is indescribably good. As I inhale, I think about all the other positions I could have her in. I look down at my little man. The life has practically been sucked from him. I chuckle.
“I think you broke him,” I tease.
She gasps dramatically. “He better not be broken! I can’t live with myself if that’s the case. Bring him here and I’ll try to revive him.”
She signals me to come to her with her index finger. Casually strolling toward her, I take the final drag of my cigarette and flick the butt into the flaming fire. Exhaling the contents of my lungs, I sink down and lie next to my honeybee.
I slide my hand down the length of her long leg and raise it up to see her feet. Ten toes.
She giggles. “What are you looking at?”
I’m not telling her how perfect I think she is.
“You know, I could keep fucking you all night, but at some point we are going to have to eat.” I tuck her soft blonde hair behind her ear as I speak.
The tattoo on the back of my hand—the one that usually reminds me of how many lives my hands have taken—now shows me just how much they want to care for someone.
Her doe eyes softly gaze at me. “Do you mean to say the world is still revolving out there?”
She makes me laugh. She’s right; nothing else matters in the world right now, except for my honeybee and me. I smooth her hair back, and run my palm across her cheek. She nuzzles into my hand. Her skin. Soft and edible.
“I can call the restaurant and get them to deliver?”
Her eyes spring open and narrow for a moment, deep in thought. “Just how often do you do this kind of thing? Or am I going to regret asking that question?”
I can’t help but laugh. Sure, I love fucking women, but I couldn’t be bothered bringing any of them out here. This is where I like to come to be left alone. Her jealousy is cute, though. I shake my head at her. Do I tell her the truth, or leave her hanging? God, I wish I knew women better sometimes.
“I’ve never brought anyone out here,” I admit, folding and telling her the truth.
Glancing away, she avoids my stare. “That was the rehearsed response I was expecting. Guys are so predictable,” she snaps back.
I hold her chin and raise her face to mine. I want her to look me dead in the eye. “Hey, I have no reason to lie to you. No other woman has ever known as much about me as you do. There’s just no point in lying to you. Do you understand?”
She nods. An enormous grin spreads across her face, and I tenderly kiss her soft lips. Our kiss is gentle, opposite to the heated kisses from earlier. Our twisting tongues confirm how much trust is between us. I will never give her a reason not to trust me. This is the first time I’ve been so open with someone. It’s a wild feeling, laced with vulnerability. I never want her to know just how undone she makes me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I watch Pacer’s gorgeous round ass cheeks as he walks up the four stairs to the kitchen level of the house. He’s off to find his phone and have our dinner delivered. Seeing his ankle monitor as he walks reminds me that he has a curfew.
Damn it! Just when we were enjoying each other, his criminal activities get in the way.
“What’s the time? There aren’t any clocks in this house,” I call out.
He reappears. His body is even better without clothes. He has muscles, but they’re not bulging. They’re in proportion with his strong physique. His chest is broad and his shoulders are square. Ink covers one side of his ribs, all of his left arm, and his left pec. The tattoos are a blended mix of pin-up girls, old sailor symbols to religious figures and script quotes about loyalty … or something. They don’t match, but all fit in with one another just fine. I want to study them more, and learn if there is a meaning behind each of them. In fact, I want to study Pacer more. I want to know everything about him.
I grin at how much of a stalker I am with him.
“Yeah, there’s a reason for no clocks,” he says with a smile, as he makes his way back down the stairs. “This is one of the only places I can escape as much of the world as possible. Time means nothing to me out here.”
“As your barrister, I need to remind you that you have a curfew to adhere to … and an ankle monitor that will alert authorities when you’re not home.”
He shrugs and lies on the rug again. “As the guy who wants to fuck you all night long, I need to tell you that I have it sorted and that you don’t need to worry yourself about technicalities like that.”
What is he talking about?
“Unfortunately, this is the one technicality that you should worry about. I can’t have you being locked up now. Not after you gave me multiple orgasms … multiple times.” I bite my lip at the thought of those orgasms.
He laughs and touches my face. I love how tender he is, but then how he unravels me with his dominate hand when it’s needed. I know what atrocities his hands have caused, but somehow they make me feel safe.
“I’m not going anywhere, honeybee.”
I believe him.
“Do I want to know?” I brace myself for his explanation after asking the question. A part of me finds this so exciting, but the other part—the lawyer part—knows how much work this could mean.
“Not unless you want to know the truth.”
Do I? Do I want to know the truth?
“Just make sure you don’t get caught. I’m already under the pump with your case … and it would be devastating if you left me now.”
“I wouldn’t risk it. Trust me.” His smile is devilish.
“I do.” There’s a strange pull in my emotions when I say those two little words.
I push him back into the rug and climb on top of him. Who needs food when you have this?
***
The sun bearing down on my face startles me from my sleep. My eyes spring open, but I can’t move. Pacer’s arms are draped heavily around me, the weight of his embrace constricting yet amazing. I feel at peace. It’s perfect. We’re still in front of the fireplace. I don’t remember falling asleep.
I try to move again, but for a guy who’s not overly muscly, Pacer is really heavy. He grunts and swings his leg around me, now completely enveloping me.
It makes me smile.
Lying my head back against the cushion again, I figure I might as well enjoy the moment. I wish I knew the time. I have an important day ahead. Today’s the day Pacer will be acquitted of all charges, and I no longer have to worry about losing him.
Wriggling around within the confines of Pacer’s arms, I finally roll around to meet his peaceful, sleeping face.
Is he such a heavy sleeper because he doesn’t get to rest like this often? Or has our mammoth fuck-fest exhausted him? Maybe it’s the house? It does feel peaceful and secluded here.
I carefully lean in and kiss his soft lips as he sleeps. His arms flex as he slowly wakes. His lips move and reciprocate the kiss. I feel them stretch into a smile. Opening my eyes, I see Pacer looking at me behind weary, hooded eyelids. I grin back. This is something I can get very used to.
“Mmm … morning,” he grumbles.
Damn, even his sleepy voice is sexy. It’s a vulnerable sound first thing bright and early.