He clenches his fists. Steam billows from his ears. He stands there shaking in rage until he spins on his heel and stalks off, cursing.
I’ve never been much of a gun enthusiast before. I only have the thing because my dad left it behind when he and my mom moved. But right now, I’m feeling all sorts of Clint Eastwood tough, and all it took was resting my hand on this weapon.
This weapon that couldn’t blow a hole through anything, human or otherwise, because it isn’t loaded.
As Chris peels off down the street in a cloud of smoke, I stand in the open doorway, unsure if I want to laugh or cry.
I go to bed depressed.
When I wake up sometime later, it’s still dark. The room is silent and still. For a moment, I’m disoriented, listening hard into the darkness and wondering with a little flutter of panic inside my chest what made me wake up.
Then my heart starts to pound, because I realize I’m not alone.
Someone else is in the room with me.
22
Nat
With a yelp of terror, I lunge for the nightstand beside the bed, yank open the drawer, and pull out the first solid thing my hand closes around to use to defend myself.
Then I scramble back against the headboard and shout, “I have a weapon!”
The lights flick on.
Kage stands in the doorway of my bedroom.
Shadows nestle in the hollows under his eyes. His dark hair is disheveled. He’s wearing black dress slacks, black leather shoes, and a fitted, button-up white dress shirt that accentuates the beautiful architecture of his upper chest and arms.
From the neck to the hem, the entire left side of his shirt is saturated with blood.
He says, “We need to have a talk about self-defense, baby. You can’t scare away an intruder with that.”
With a faint smile, he gestures to what I’m brandishing at him:
My big pink dildo.
I toss it away, leap off the bed, and run to him, throwing my arms around his shoulders and burying my face in his neck. “You’re here!”
He winds his arms around my back, pulling me tight against his chest. His voice is a low, pleased rumble. “I’m here. Did you miss me?”
“No. Not even a little bit.” I snuggle closer against him, as close as I can get, dragging his scent into my nose and shuddering a little in happiness.
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Liar. Give me your mouth.”
I tip my head back and immediately get his lips on mine. He kisses me voraciously, holding me tight.
When we come up for air, I say breathlessly, “Why is there blood all over your shirt?”
“Because some asshole shot me.”
Horrified, I pull out of his arms and stare at him, looking for holes. “What? Oh shit! Where?”
“My shoulder. Relax. It’s barely a scratch.”
“Scratches don’t bleed like that! Let me see—take off your shirt!”
He smiles indulgently at me, as if I’m a fussing baby. “Not even sixty seconds in the door and she’s already trying to get me naked.”
Hands on my hips, I glower at him. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room. And get your shirt off before I have a heart attack.”
His smile grows wider. “And you say I’m bossy.”
He complies with my demand, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt. When he drops it to the floor and stands there bare chested, I take a moment to admire him before I remember what I’m supposed to be doing: looking for holes.
I quickly find what I’m looking for. On the outer part of his shoulder is an ugly red gash from which blood is still leaking.
“Sit,” I order, pushing him toward the bed.
He sits on the edge of the mattress, then grasps my hips and gazes up at me as I stand between his legs and inspect the wound, grimacing.
He murmurs, “My own personal nurse. You should take off your shirt, too.”
He slides a hand up my rib cage and squeezes my breast.
I’m wearing my typical sleepwear of boy shorts and a soft cotton T-shirt with nothing beneath. He thumbs over my nipple until it’s taut, then leans in and gently bites it right through the cotton.
It feels incredible, but we’ve got more pressing matters to deal with.
“I need to clean this, Kage. Quit distracting me.”
He nuzzles my breasts, inhaling the scent of my skin. He whispers, “I missed you. I haven’t been able to breathe since I left.”
A fizzy starburst of joy explodes inside my stomach, but I hold firm.
“Compliments will get you nowhere. I’m gonna get some antiseptic—”
He grabs me, tosses me onto the bed, and presses the long, hard length of his body against mine, settling his bulk between my spread thighs.
“Later,” he says, his voice husky with need. “Right now, I need to fuck you. Every night, I’ve been dreaming about the way you sound when you come. My dick has been aching for you for weeks. I’ve been aching for you. I think you’ve put a spell on me, little witch.”
He kisses me again, passionately, his hands dug into my hair.
I’m torn between wanting to clean that gash in his shoulder and wanting to feel him inside me. It’s a battle that lasts until he shoves up my shirt and starts sucking on my hard nipples, back and forth, one after the other.
I give up with a grateful sigh and slide my fingers into the thick mess of his hair, arching up against the hot, demanding pleasure of his mouth.
He’s right. I can clean him up later.
At the moment, he doesn’t seem to be in danger of bleeding to death.
Propping himself up onto his elbows, he slides my shirt over my head. Then he presses my arms to the mattress and slides the shirt up farther, until it reaches my wrists. He does some kind of Houdini magic trick to tie my wrists together with the shirt.
Now I’m bound, gazing up at him with wide eyes and a galloping heartbeat.
“My captive,” he whispers, his eyes hot. “Move your arms, and I’ll punish you.”
Shivering with desire, I lick my lips. “I revoked my permission for you to spank me, remember? I said you’d have to let me do that to you first.”
He smiles. “There are so many other ways for me to punish you, beautiful girl.”
My voice goes high. “Really? Like what?”
“Try me and find out.”
I swallow. Take several deep breaths. Attempt to not pass out.
Chuckling, Kage lowers his head to my breasts again. He lavishes them with attention until I’m squirming and panting beneath him, wanting that clever tongue of his somewhere else.
He works his way down my body, kissing my belly and hips, squeezing my flesh, fondling me with his big, rough hands. He nuzzles his face between my spread thighs, inhales deeply against the crotch of my boy shorts, then exhales with a soft groan.
My cheeks flame. I clench my hands to fists, trying desperately not to start panting.
He slides off my shorts, tosses them to the floor, then French kisses my pussy.
When I groan, delirious, he makes a humming noise that reverberates all the way through me.
“Tell me you missed me,” he whispers, licking me like an ice-cream cone.
“You know I did. Oh…oh…”
He slides a thick finger inside me. “How much?”
“So much. Oh god. Please don’t stop that. That’s amazing.”