CHAPTER EIGHT
MERISSA LIKED THE stunned look on Armie’s face. Wasn’t often she could take him off guard.
She watched him gather his wits, saw his eyes narrow, and then he reached for her breasts. “I’ll like making you come.”
“I’m sure I’ll like that, too.” She didn’t dissuade him from touching her. Heck no. She’d craved his touch for so long she couldn’t deny him now even if she wanted to. “But do you like this? Touching me?”
Voice gravelly and deep, he said, “I love touching you.”
“I think you’d like me touching you, also. Right?”
He went still. “Yeah.”
“Could we get naked first?”
His chest expanded. His gaze burned over her. “Yeah. Naked is good.”
Merissa usually felt a little insecure about her figure. She was long and lean, lacking lush curves, especially on top. But the way Armie looked at her, with so much palpable lust, she knew he liked what he saw and that made her feel sexy. She moved off the bed, smiled at him and skimmed her panties down.
Slowly, he sat up, his gaze consuming her. In a near growl, he murmured, “Come here.”
She walked over to him—but when he reached for her, she took his hands and urged him to his feet.
“I want to see you, too, Armie.” She didn’t wait for him to remove the boxers. She did it for him, stepping close and coasting her hands over his broad chest and his hard back, and then down until she had both hands over his muscled tush.
Sinking to her knees, she took the boxers down.
Armie breathed harder.
Could a man be more stunning? His messy hair, beard scruff and tattoos added an edge to his gorgeously honed body. Everywhere she looked, everywhere she touched, he was rock solid. Sleek, taut skin on his shoulders and biceps led to sparse chest hair over his chiseled pecs, then down to dance over the ridges of his carved abdomen. With his feet stationed apart, she admired his strong, hairy calves and his thick thighs.
Finally she looked at his erection; heat expanded, spreading out to her limbs and making her tingle all over.
“I love your body, Armie. I love looking at you and feeling free to touch you.” She lightly dragged her hands up the front of his thighs, then asked again, “What do you like most?”
“You, naked and on your knees in front of me, has to be pretty damned close.”
“Good.” She brought her hands up the insides of his thighs. “I can work with that.”
“You don’t have to work, honey.” He sucked in air when she curled her hand around his straining erection. “Believe me, I want you enough already.”
She stroked him slowly and reveled in his harsh groan. “For so long, you’ve rejected me.”
“You know why.” His hand petted over her head until his fingers tangled in her hair. “Truth is, I’ve wanted you since you were sixteen years old.”
Shocked, Merissa looked up at him.
“That surprises you?” His face looked hard, his eyes dark as he struggled for composure. “I was twenty—too old to be perving on you like I did. But you were so damned sweet, so hot. You’d smile at me and all I could think about was getting under your skirt.”
“You hid it well.” She went back to stroking, but brought up her other hand to fondle his testicles.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes momentarily closing before he opened them again to stare at her with blatant hunger. “You’re my best friend’s lil sister. Your family was always special, to the neighborhood and to everyone who knew the Colters. I was just the guy with the drunk for a dad and the mom who ran off and—”
Merissa pressed a kiss to the underside of his erection, stopping his awful speech. She didn’t want to hear him run himself down. To her, he was...everything. Protective and brave and funny. Armie was honor, reliability and the best of friends whenever someone needed him.
“You smell so good,” she whispered, brushing her nose along his length, then licking back to the head, over the tip where she stole a drop of precum.
Armie said nothing, but he now had both hands in her hair, and she felt him shaking. She looked up and found him watching the mirror. She’d forgotten all about it, but as she glanced that way, too, she saw what he saw; their bodies in profile, his big and strong, his muscles clenched in arousal while she knelt before him, her hair held in his fisted hands like reins.
Still he said nothing, but in his face she saw naked emotion. In his stance—feet apart and hips forward, shoulders braced—she saw pure, piercing lust.
She loved having him like this. She loved his pleasure.
She’d loved him—since she was sixteen years old.
Opening her mouth, she drew him in, taking him as deep as she could.
“Rissy,” he whispered, agonized.
She felt him growing taut, tasted more of him, and knew he was close—so fast. She’d expected him to last longer, but the fact that he didn’t, that maybe he couldn’t, thrilled her.
Each time she took his length, she sucked, and as she withdrew, she worked her tongue over him.
His powerful legs stiffened. He murmured low words, encouraging, cursing, praying a little...
Cupping one hand at the back of her neck, he drew her closer, and gave a harsh groan as he released.
Merissa stayed with him, her own heart racing, her body buzzing in excited awareness. When at last he relaxed again, his hands stroking her head, she eased back and looked up at him.
He breathed heavily, his shoulders loose, his expression both quizzical and poignant, somehow shaken and maybe even pained. He released one more big breath, then whispered, “Now you.”
With ridiculous ease he caught her under her arms and lifted her up and onto the bed, parting her legs as he came down over her.
His weight pressing her into the bed was a special delight, also the way he put hot, damp kisses on her shoulder, her neck, along her jaw. His mouth touched hers as he whispered, “When you start the night like that, it’s tough to beat.”
She smiled, pleased that he was pleased.
Then he added, “But let me try.”
* * *
SURROUNDED IN SENSATION, Armie struggled to find his usual finesse during sex. You’d think something he’d done so often, so many different ways, should be routine.
Not so, not with Rissy. The subtle scent of her hair and skin, the feel of her tight body beneath his, the touch of her small hands and, most of all, the emotion she gave him, all conspired to leave him nearly sick with need. The moment was fresh and new, incredibly hot, but also indescribably sweet, and it shook him.
I want you.
An invisible fist squeezed his heart, making him desperate to ease the restriction with her touch. With her taste. With the sounds of her release.
He kissed her, meaning for it to be sensual, an act of foreplay.
Damn if that didn’t turn near desperate, too. It seemed he’d been craving her for a lifetime, with familiar fantasies that played and replayed in his mind.
But the reality was far different from anything he’d expected. She was different.
Better, when he hadn’t known that was possible.
He moved down to her breasts, molding the small mounds in his hands, loving her delicate curves, and loving even more her faint gasps and whimpers as he licked her nipples, then drew one in, sucking gently. He could have done that for an hour, just relishing the intimacy as he learned her body, the feel of her, the taste of her, touching her in ways he found she liked, and ways she shied away from.
He always paid close attention to a woman’s reactions, but now it wasn’t a deliberate move to enhance the sex. It was because this was Rissy, and what she liked fascinated him.
He loved witnessing her building need.
“Armie,” she whispered, her back arching, one leg wrapping over his.
He switched to the other breast, this time not as gently. Her hips rocked against him; he was hard again, throbbing, hurting for relief.
Leaving each nipple ripe and wet, he put openmouthed love bites down her body, occasionally sucking to mark her, licking in certain spots, nuzzling in others.
Coming up to his knees between her long legs, he opened her thighs. He hadn’t lied about enjoying the sight of a woman, most especially this woman. Her sex looked very pink and slick against the dark curls of her pubic hair. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She choked. “Armie.”
His fingers sank into her pale inner thighs and he used his thumbs to part her lips. She was wet, glistening, her clitoris swollen with need. On a groan, he leaned down and licked over her, then in her, gathering her sweetness, inhaling the heated aroma of her arousal. He loved eating Rissy, feeling the tension grow in her lithe body, how she shifted and moaned and whispered words of entreaty.
Her cries went higher, thinner, mixing with short moans and gasps. One hand locked tight into his hair, the other fisted in the sheets. “Armie...” she breathed, then more frantically, “Armie.”
He stayed with her, knowing she was close, pushing her, and she came with a trembling sob that went on and on. Even after she sank boneless back to the bed, he continued to lazily lick and taste her. She flinched. He knew he should stop, but this was Rissy, a fantasy come to life. He pressed his face to her, locked his arms around her thighs.
He didn’t want to let the moment go.
“Armie,” she whispered. “Please. Come up here to me.”
His heavy heart beat like a bass drum. Sentiment tried to well up, but Rissy tugged at his ear.
“Armie,” she pleaded. “I want to feel you inside me.”
God, he wanted that, too. To be a part of her, to take everything from her, at least everything physical.
Taking his time, he nibbled his way back up her body. Her skin was now dewy, her scent intensified and twice as rousing.
When he reached her mouth, she smiled and said, “That was pretty amazing.”
“Yeah.” He kissed her neck to keep from letting her blue eyes consume him.
“I see you’re not surprised,” she teased. “But it was a revelation for me.”
“I love eating you, Rissy.”
She hugged him tight. “I liked going down on you.”
His arms constricted around her. He wanted her to be his, but he had no right to expect that. Hadn’t he already told her that no one could know about them?
Hating that thought, he levered up and reached to the nightstand to snag a condom. Once he had it, he fell to his back and tore it open with his teeth.
“Already?” she asked, sounding a little worried.
“Yeah.” He seemed to be the master of one-word answers tonight. With haste, he rolled it on and braced himself over her again. Beautiful. Her feathery lashes lowered and she bit her bottom lip. Aroused color clung to her cheekbones. Armie kissed her, at first barely there, then pressing firmer, touching his tongue to her soft lips, slowly licking in until they were involved in a hot, wet mating of the mouths.
When her arms crept up around his neck, he kneed her legs farther apart and wedged one hand down between their bodies.
So slippery, soft and ready. He slicked his fingertips over her, parting her, spreading her wetness, then pushed two fingers into her.
She freed her mouth from his and put her head back. “Ah... God.”
Pleasure pulsated, expanding and withdrawing, until all he could see, all he could feel and taste and smell was Rissy. He took her mouth again, drunk on kissing her, raw with need. He worked her with his fingers until she was again ready, then shifted, nudged against her with his cock and slowly sank in.
They groaned roughly together.
Rissy immediately moved against him, lifting into him with a frantic rhythm.
He gentled her with a hand to her hip. “Slow down, babe. Nice and easy.” He didn’t want to come too quickly, not with her.
Her nails sank into his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can.”
Pulling her hands down and lacing her fingers with his, he pressed her hands to the pillow and nuzzled her throat while slowly, heavily thrusting. He watched her, how her eyes went dazed and the wild tripping of the pulse in her throat.
That damned emotion ripped at him again, making it hard for him to inhale, to swallow. Putting his forehead to hers, he shared her breath as he ground against her, feeling her tighten, squeeze him, milk him.
To keep his release at bay, he concentrated on her. Deliberately he brushed his hairy chest to her sensitized nipples, thrust shallow and slow, then deep and fast, teasing her, keeping her on the very edge.
Heat built between them. Their skin melded together. She tossed her head, straining, wanting to come but controlled by him. Releasing her hands, he came up on stiffened arms to watch the shimmying of her breasts. Thinking of how she’d gone down on him so naturally, how she’d seemed to enjoy it, he pumped faster, pressed deeper.
“Come with me,” she gasped, her hands clutching at him. “Armie, come with me.” Her slender body bowed and she cried out, the sound first high and thin, before going low in a deep guttural moan as she climaxed.
Overwhelmed by the potent mix of emotional and physical pleasure, a first for him, Armie put his head back and let himself go. The release was so intense, so shattering, that he lost himself, only to realize a short time later that Rissy was stroking the back of his neck and putting an occasional affectionate kiss to his shoulder.
Ah, hell. Still sucking air, he sluggishly lifted up to see her.
All gentle and sweet and satisfied, she smiled at him. Her silky hair was everywhere, her lips reddened from his kisses, her eyes smoky.
“You’re dangerous,” he told her.
Her laugh was happy, carefree, and proved she didn’t believe him.
Keeping her close, Armie rolled to his back and released a big breath. Rissy curled against him, her fingers playing with his chest hair.
“Armie?” She sighed and kissed him again, this time on his chest. “That was pretty wonderful.”
He hugged her, kissed the top of her head and concentrated on finding the right words.
He didn’t have to bother, because Rissy had plenty to say.
“The other night, when you were drunk?”
Dreading her answer, he asked, “What about it?”
He heard the grin in her voice when she said, “You talked about your cocksmanship.”
God. “You should never pay attention to the ramblings of a drunk.”
“You said you were a better cocksman when drunk.”
Wishing she’d quit saying it, he bit back the groan of humiliation. “Sounds like me.”
“Something about—” she snickered “—using your cock like a sword.”
“Enough.” He turned so she was under him again. “I think someone liked her spanking and is looking for another.”
Now she laughed outright. “Maybe I want to try spanking your sexy butt.”
What an appalling thought. “Never happening, Stretch, so forget it.” He dipped down to take her mouth, then liked that enough that he kept on kissing her, until kissing wasn’t enough, until they were both primed again.
He’d just come twice. That should make him good for some extended foreplay. Rissy deserved that, and more.
For now, at least, he was the lucky man ready and willing to give it to her.
* * *
STEVE PACED THE private room at the club, his anger simmering just below the surface. He would never forget the feeling of broken fingers, busted ribs.
And that damn nut shot. His balls hurt just thinking about it.
Armie Jacobson—now he had the bastard’s name—had really put it to him. After he’d taken apart Steve’s friends. He’d walked through each of them as if he fought women. Or kids.
Steve wasn’t a slouch, damn it. He knew how to fight, was strong and fast. But clearly not strong enough or fast enough to go up against a trained MMA fighter.
“You know where he is,” Keno said with a shrug. “I’ll go there and put a bullet in him. End of story.”
First thing he’d done after leaving Merissa’s house was a quick internet search of Armie Jacobson. Since he frequented the same rec center as Merissa’s brother, it had been easy enough. Jacobson lived in the area, worked at the gym and apparently would be competing on a professional level.
It was no wonder he hadn’t stood a chance against him.
“I don’t want to murder him,” Steve growled. Jesus. That was the problem with hiring lowlifes. They were always pushing to cross the line. “I just want to destroy him.”
Boyd said, “Death would destroy him.”
Steve ignored them both, still pacing. He’d found out what he could locally; Jacobson’s address, his Facebook profile, his work schedule and when his next fight would be. Then he’d hired a professional PI to find out everything else. He’d used the PI before and knew he could be counted on for discretion.
Bored, Keno said, “You realize I have better shit to do than watch you fret like an old lady.”
Eyes narrowed, Steve turned to him. Keno looked like shit—more of Jacobson’s doing. “If you hadn’t fucked up the robbery, she’d be with me now. But he handed your ass to you.” He slanted his attention to Boyd. “To both of you. And you were armed!”
“Didn’t know a fucking MMA fighter would be there.”
Keno took it one further, standing to face off with Steve. “You fucked up, not us. You said to spook the woman. Period. You didn’t say anything about a professional ass kicker playing her personal bodyguard.”
“I didn’t know he’d be there, either.” Steve ran a hand over his head, leaving his hair mussed and not giving a shit. All he’d wanted was for Rissy to be robbed. Everyone would know about it, of course, and that’d give him a viable reason to check on her. He’d already learned that her roommate was gone, so she’d be in her house, alone, vulnerable, shaken from being robbed at gunpoint. And he’d have played her hero.
For months he kept thinking she’d come back to him. But she didn’t and it still infuriated him whenever he thought of how she’d walked away. He hadn’t loved her, but more than any other woman, he’d cared for her. They’d been good in bed, and out of bed she wasn’t too demanding. She was independent rather than needy. She could carry on an intelligent conversation. And her brother was a local hero. He’d figured on marrying the bitch eventually. But when he’d been at his worst, beaten and hurting, she’d given him the boot.
No one treated him that way.
It had taken him months of stewing to finally decide he couldn’t just let it go. He had to get even—so he’d instigated a simple robbery. He knew enough about her branch that it was easy to plan. Boyd and Keno were capable, but perhaps too ruthless.
Though not ruthless enough to finish the job properly.
Right now, Merissa should be welcoming him back into her life, full of apology, needing him—and then the outcome of their relationship would be in his hands.
Instead she was with Jacobson and it enraged him.
“We were supposed to keep the cash,” Boyd complained.
Of course they were. But they’d fucked that up, too.
Boyd shrugged. “Now we got jack shit.”
With enough sense to know he didn’t want to get on Boyd or Keno’s bad side, Steve shook his head. “I’ll pay you a grand each.” He needed their silence and cooperation. Especially now that shit had gone sideways.
The thugs shared a look, and Keno turned cagey. “Make it fifteen hundred apiece and we might be agreeable.”
Through his teeth, Steve said, “You’re the ones who left the money behind.”
“So?” Keno narrowed his cold blue eyes. “We put it on the line for you and things did not go as you claimed they would.”
Shit. “I don’t know if I can scrape up that much, but give me a few days to see.” Steve had that and more, piece of cake. But he wasn’t in the mood to be hustled by two clowns. “Now—”
The ringing of his cell phone interrupted him.
A glance at the screen told him it was the PI. Did he have news on Jacobson already? Maybe the prick was married, or even engaged. That’d get him tossed out of Merissa’s life real quick.
After he answered the call, Steve realized the PI had something even better than a romantic commitment.
He had the big score.
It’d be the perfect way to drive the fighter away from Merissa—and in the process he’d get to destroy him.
For good.
* * *
LEESE LEANED HIS elbows back on the counter at Rowdy’s bar. It was crowded, as always on a Saturday night. He saw most of the guys from the rec center, but Armie and Merissa were notably absent. Smiling, he sipped his drink and took in the different ladies glancing his way.
Cannon joined him, his arm around Yvette. “Solo tonight?” Cannon asked.
“So far.” He tipped his head at Yvette. “How’re you feeling?”
“Just fine.” She put a hand over her belly. “Excited.”
Funny, because she didn’t look preggers, but she already glowed. He figured that was happiness more than the baby.
Just then his phone beeped and he took it out of his pocket to see a message.
Rissy was here—but she won’t be there. Sorry!
Standing next to him, Cannon saw and lifted a brow. “She’s texting you?”
He sent a No problem text back to her and returned the cell to his jeans pocket. “She’d said she might be in tonight, depending on how things went with...” The words fell off, and he exchanged Armie’s name with “...her day.”
Cannon gave him a funny look, but then Yvette spoke to him, indicating that she was going to join Stack and Vanity at a table. He kissed his wife, put a hand to her flat belly and kissed her again.
Leese felt like a damned voyeur, so he looked away and thought again about that message scrawled on Armie’s ass. Despite the explanations he’d been given, he knew Rissy was nuts for Armie. He assumed Cannon knew it, too, but things might be viewed differently by a brother.
“So she’s not coming in?” Cannon asked after his wife had walked away.
Leese shook his head. “Guess she has other plans.” Plans that probably involved private time with Armie.
“You two had a date?”
Quick to shake his head, Leese said, “Negative.” Jesus, he didn’t need Cannon thinking things like that. “She’d asked if I was going to be around, that’s all. In case nothing better came up.” He was pretty sure Armie was finally “up” with Rissy. And he was happy for her, as long as Armie didn’t break her heart. “We’re just friends.”
“So you don’t mind that she’s probably with Armie?”
“No.” Cautiously, Leese asked, “You assume she is?”
Cannon’s grin came slowly, then turned into a short laugh. “I like that you’re trying to protect her, but you don’t ever need to do that, not with me.” He ordered a beer, then took the bar stool beside Leese. “You know Armie was there with her at the bank when the robbery happened.”
“Everyone knows.” And Leese also knew that since then, Armie had been different with Rissy, less like a friend and more like a man guarding what was his.
“I think it shook up both of them, and it’s nice that they can work that out together.”
“If you say so.” He watched a woman walk by, appreciating the smile she sent in his direction. “Look, I know Armie’s a really good guy.”
Cannon nodded. “The best.”
“He has a great rapport with the kids, especially the little toughies.” Kids from bad homes, some of them neglected, came in with bad attitudes and a lot of hurt. “Armie has a way of getting them to settle down and take part.”
“He gives them a positive focus. For some reason, they relate to him.”
Leese laughed. “One toughie to another?”
“Probably,” Cannon agreed with his own grin. “They’re in awe of his tats. Plus he never looks riled. He just reins in tempers and keeps kids in line so that the quieter kids and the potential punks can all get along. It’s always impressed me. That’s one reason why he runs most everything at the rec center. He has a knack for it.”
Leese set his drink on the bar and shifted to face Cannon. “He has this way of acting like he’s known everyone forever. You know what I mean?”
“I do.” Cannon, too, set aside his drink. “Armie isn’t easily impressed or intimidated, so to him, no one is a big deal or a problem. He isn’t shy or modest and no one scares him.”
“Oh, I dunno.” This is where Leese felt he had to tiptoe. But Cannon seemed in the mood for a heart-to-heart, so why not? “I think your sister scares him plenty.”
Cannon studied him, then clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “That’s pretty damned observant. And yeah, I’ve always thought the same. It’s because she matters to him. Armie is like a brother to me, but it’s different with Rissy. Not like the significant others with his friends, and not like the women who helped to build his rep.”
“His rep would scare most brothers.”
“Rissy is a really strong person. Independent, too. She knows I’d like to spoil her, but she insists my success is my own and she can take care of herself. But the robbery, being held at gunpoint...” His jaw worked. “Regardless of how she tries, having some bastard maul her and put a gun in her face, that’s not something she’s going to push past. And if I can’t be with her, then I’m glad Armie is.”
Nice that Rissy’s brother was okay with the setup. For her sake, Leese hoped Armie felt the same. But given what he’d witnessed so far, he wasn’t convinced.
Seemed everyone was on board with them being together—except for Armie himself.
When Yvette called him over, Cannon stood. “I’m glad you’re keeping an eye out for her.”
“No problem.” Hell, all the ladies, especially Vanity and Rissy, considered him a confidant. For whatever reason, they trusted him with their secrets, and their worries. Leese wasn’t sure if that was a compliment to his character, or an insult to his masculinity.
“You might not see it,” Cannon continued, “and Armie would deny needing it, but do me a favor and keep an eye out for him, too, will you?”
“You’re serious?”
Cannon nodded. “Everyone is so used to Armie being outrageous, it’s tough to notice when he’s struggling. It’s not the workload, and it’s not the SBC debut. But seeing Rissy threatened—that put him in a tailspin.”
“What do you expect me to do?” Leese just naturally looked after kids or women or whatever. Old people or stray dogs. But Armie was a phenomenon. A natural fighter that everyone assumed would carve a straight line to the title belt. How the hell would Leese be of any help?
“You’re single. If you see him out and about and he has a problem, any problem, whether you think he’d want your interference or not, let me know.”
“Sure.” But it felt weird as shit to babysit Armie “Quick” Jacobson.
“Thanks. And Leese? Keep it to yourself.”
“What?”
“All of it. Anything to do with my sister or Armie.”
Yeah, that was the big brother speaking, what he’d expected all along. “For the record,” Leese said evenly, “I would have done that without the warning.”
“I figured. Thanks.”
Cannon no sooner left than Justice and Brand joined him. A few minutes after that, several ladies invited them to their table. Leese soon had his mind on other things—like the cute brunette who invited him back to her place.
Right before they left, he heard two of her friends ask about Armie, and he smiled. Since he knew Rissy wasn’t the type to share, he figured Armie was off the market, at least for now.
And if Rissy got her way, Armie would never have another three-way. He almost felt sorry for him—except that Rissy was a catch, and if the lucky SOB didn’t screw it up, Leese was pretty sure she was the one woman who could make Armie a very satisfied man.