CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE DAY PASSED IN A HAZE of sex and slumber. Mal hadn’t slept well since he’d gotten the call about Chris being killed by a roadside bomb, but with Sabrina he had somehow let go of the pain and anger for a few hours and had lost himself in her. She was a drug, but a healthy drug.
He loved the way she gripped him tightly, the way her voice broke on his name, the soft cries she made as her body trembled with the force of her pleasure. He could get addicted to those things if he let himself.
Even better, he loved when she woke him late that afternoon with a roaming hand. She gripped his cock and stroked it until it was marble—which didn’t take nearly as long as he might have expected considering they’d had sex only a couple of hours before. She sheathed him in a condom and then straddled him and sank down on him until they were fully joined.
He gripped her hips and watched her pupils widen as she began to move. It was everything he could do not to hold her tight and pump into her hard and fast. Somehow, he managed it, letting her take control, letting her set the pace that sent his pulse into overdrive as his body spiraled higher and higher.
When his orgasm hit, it hit hard, bowing his back and driving him up inside her. She cried out and rode him harder, until his brain was ready to explode from the sensations rolling through him. When she collapsed on him, her hair fanning over his chest, her body moist with sweat and slick with desire, he closed his eyes and felt more content than he had in a long time.
“Damn, you feel good,” he groaned.
“Mmm.”
He pushed her hair from her face, gazed into slumberous chocolate-brown eyes staring back at him. It hit him that he didn’t know much about her, other than she came from Nashville and had nearly married a guy who was already married. She was a good listener and she sang like an angel. He remembered that much from his drunken fog the other night.
“What do you do in Nashville, Sabrina?”
Her gaze dimmed a little. “Nothing exciting. I’m a waitress, but I want to be a singer.”
She was embarrassed. He caressed the indent of her spine with his fingers. “You have a good voice.”
She blinked. “I didn’t think you remembered that.”
“Oh, I remember.” She’d held him tight and stroked his hair. And she’d sang to him while he clung to her and grappled with the fresh agony of loss.
“I play a few clubs here and there, and I’ve done some demos. I just haven’t broken in yet.”
“You will.” He knew it as sure as he knew his own name. Because there was a fire in her. He could hear it in her voice, feel it in the passionate expression of her body during sex. Sabrina had something, and she wasn’t going to let it go without fighting hard to get what she wanted.
“You can’t know that.”
“I can. You’re like me, sugar. You want something and you go get it.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Nothing is.”
She rolled away from him and lay staring up at the ceiling. Her distress was unmistakable. “I’ve been alone most of my life. In and out of foster care. My mama’s an alcoholic, and she’s never been stable enough to take care of a kid. Don’t know who my daddy is because my mother doesn’t know. I wanted a family all those years, wanted sisters and a house of my own with dogs and cats and horses. Wanting something doesn’t make it happen or I’d have had the happiest childhood ever known to the world.”
Mal rolled onto his side and tugged her into his embrace. She was small and she fit there so perfectly. He ran a hand down her side, curled it around her waist. He pressed his mouth to her neck, her cheek, and something inside him howled with rage at all she’d been through. He wanted to protect her. Shelter her. Make it right.
Except that he didn’t quite know how.
“I’m sorry, Sabrina.”
She shrugged, a pretty lift of her shoulder against his chest. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s more than you want to know, I’m sure.”
“Hey, didn’t I get all emotional on you recently? It’s your turn… and I think I can handle it.”
She turned in his arms, met his gaze. “You’re a good man, Mal. I’m glad you’re the one who rescued me from the storm.”
“So am I.”
What he didn’t say was that maybe she’d rescued him too.
* * *
Sabrina woke to a rumbling sound and then realized it was her belly. And possibly Mal’s too since neither of them had eaten a thing all day. The late day sun streamed in through the windows, touching their bodies and gilding them with golden light. She lifted her head to find Mal blinking awake.
“Hungry?”
His voice was a little hoarse and a whole lot sexy. Her body responded to that sound even though she didn’t think she could have sex again today if her life depended on it. Certain areas were a little tender, which she discovered yet again as she moved and felt the burn between her thighs.
Oh, it was a good burn though. The kind of burn that came from having sex repeatedly with a man like Mal. He was big and thick, and he knew how to use his cock in all the right ways. And his tongue.
Merciful heavens, his tongue. Sabrina thought she might blush if she paused to consider all the ways in which he’d used his tongue on her today.
“You with me?” he asked, and she realized she’d been daydreaming. He’d asked her if she was hungry.
“Uh, yes, definitely with you. And definitely hungry.”
Mal scrubbed a hand through his hair. “As much as I’d like to stay here in this bed, I’m thinking maybe I should take you out. Cheese, crackers, and toast won’t cut it, and there’s not much more than that in the kitchen since you fixed those eggs for me.”
The moment of panic she’d felt yesterday at the thought of going into town didn’t hit her today. If she saw Brian, so what? It was over. All she had left was regret that she’d been too trusting and ignored the warning signs that something wasn’t right. She’d believed when she shouldn’t have. She wasn’t doing that again.
“Then I guess we should get dressed.”
He reached out and ran his fingers over her cheek, down to caress her breasts. “Yeah, I guess we should.” He took her hand and tugged her from the bed, leading her into the bathroom and turning on the shower. “Nobody said showering has to be done alone.”
When the water was hot, he pushed her under the spray. Sabrina sighed as the water beat down on her. Mal turned her and then his soapy hands were on her breasts, kneading them, tweaking her nipples while her body grew tight with fresh desire.
His hands were big and broad, yet he used them with such a light touch. A touch that stoked the flame higher and higher. He washed her thoroughly, his hand descending between her legs and teasing the slick flesh there. She leaned back against him, against that hard cock that had given her so much pleasure today.
He made no move to enter her. Instead, he pushed her back onto the bench against one wall of the massive shower and made her put her heels on the edge. Then he knelt and spread her open with his fingers before licking her aching center.
Sabrina couldn’t contain the choked sound that burst from her.
“You taste good,” he said, his voice a rumble against her flesh. “I could just eat you and be happy.”
Sabrina pushed her fingers into his wet hair. “Yes, please. Please.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. Mal’s tongue curled around her clit, over her slick folds, down into her pussy, and then back up again. He spread her wide with his fingers and sucked the sensitive nub of her sex until she screamed. He didn’t stop no matter how she begged, no matter how she needed to breathe, just one breath, one—
And then she stopped begging because her body caught fire again, and her fingers tightened in his hair. She rode his face, rocking her hips against him as he gripped her ass and held her up for his pleasure. It was wild, decadent, and she loved every moment of it. She could live like this, with this man between her legs, making her feel out of control, making her shatter—
And she did, right that second. Shattered apart into a million broken pieces of herself, a million pieces that slowly came together again, making her feel both stronger and more weary at the same time.
When she opened her eyes, Mal was there. Grinning at her, his face wreathed with a self-satisfied smirk.
“I think you’re hot for me, Sabrina. Hot, hot, hot. You’d starve to death if I didn’t make you leave this house.”
She looked down at his cock, arched an eyebrow. “I’m not the only one who’s hot.”
“No, definitely not.”
She crooked her finger at him. “Stand up and bring me what I want, Mal.”
His eyes glittered as he stood to his full height. And then he stepped in close, his hands on the wall as he leaned toward her. She looked up at him, felt confusion and aching need swirling inside her as she squeezed him in her hands. She needed this, needed him—and that was such a dangerous thing to feel.
“My turn,” she whispered before taking him into her mouth and giving back every ounce of pleasure that he’d given her.