Chapter 7

 

The smile on Nebraska’s face was unlike anything he had seen from her so far. The worry, the tension, the guard she tended to have up, it all disappeared upon seeing the faces of fans enjoying her work.

“You never looked at the screen. Why is that?” he asked.

“I don’t like watching myself. I avoid it, if at all possible. And hearing my own voice, gah, don’t get me started.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you. You don’t worry about you at all, do you?” he asked.

“For the most part, no. Seems like, until now, you didn’t like that about me,” she pointed out.

“Only when it comes to you getting threatened. You have this habit of exacerbating already-tense situations and, while you have every right to your opinion, if I learned anything being a SEAL it’s that sometimes it’s better to remain silent.”

“You don’t think I should have spoken up for those at Standing Rock?” she asked.

“No, not that. I get why you did it. When you keep mentioning it or commenting on the Keystone spill, that seems to be where the issues lie. Until the threat is gone, anything you say can only bring you more harm.”

“Or it can draw out the person behind this, so we can get it settled once and for all,” she pointed out.

He almost suggested it. But then he figured that she was going to do what she was going to do anyway. Maybe if he said nothing, when she did finally open her mouth, which she would do (it was only a matter of time), she would do so in a way that didn’t rain down a shit storm on herself.

She threw her hands in the air. “Why is it everyone else can say what they want about the situation but, if I so much as have an opinion, I have to worry about being threatened? How is that fair? Part of the benefit of being famous is having a voice. You all would be happy if I were voiceless.”

“Hey, don’t lump me in with the assholes harassing you. Don’t you do it, Nebraska. I’m here to keep you safe and to find out who’s doing this so it stops. I’m the good guy here.”

They rolled down her street, and sitting outside her gate were some journalists waiting with cameras. Willy had stepped out of the booth and was giving them hell, judging by the way his arms were waving in the air and the reddish-purple tinge to his face.

“I guess we’re about to find out how good a guy you are.”

Slyder stopped and she hopped out of the car. “What’s going on here?” she asked.

“Nebraska, do you have any comment on the Keystone Pipeline spill in South Dakota?” the guy asked, shoving his microphone in her face.

“Do you have any plans on returning to Standing Rock?” another called out.

“Word is you’re putting together a rally in Standing Rock, an event that will draw thousands. Any comment on that?” the third asked.

She turned to Slyder, one eyebrow raised, a smirk on that smart mouth, daring him to say something to shut her up. She turned back to the group. “Right now I have no solid plans to return to Standing Rock.”

“So, you’re not going back?” one of the reporters asked.

“No, I didn’t say that. I said, right now I have no plans made to go back. As for the rally, totally false. And the Keystone Pipeline spill? I guess all I have to say is…we told you so.” She strode through the gate, leaving the reporters hollering questions that she ignored.

Slyder clapped Willy on the shoulder. “Can you handle things out here?”

“Of course, Mr. Slyder. You just take care of our girl in there,” he said.

Our girl.

Two simple little words that, apart, didn’t mean a whole hell of a lot. Together, and in reference to Nebraska, they meant everything.

He followed her up the house, proud, a little pissed off, and needing somewhere to put the energy.

He shot off a text to Dylan to give him a heads up that Nebraska would hit the news at any minute. Hopefully, before the night was over, the asshole would come crawling out from under his rock and they’d nail his ass.

“Nebraska!” he called, but got no reply. He checked the kitchen and the living room, and when he didn’t find her he decided to head down the hall she had emerged from the day he met her.

Something had shifted. He didn’t know what, but he sensed it. The energy from the movie, from her satisfaction at a job well done, had turned into something else entirely. She’d challenged him with a look and then spoke to the media.

Her look said, “I dare you to give me shit.”

And nothing made him want to spar with her more.

He followed along the blue walls, to the set of double doors at the end. One door was closed, latched in place at the top where the door met the frame.

The other stood open partway.

He rapped on the door. “Nebraska?”

“Yeah, in here.”

He stepped into a huge suite, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the flower garden on the side of the house. A set of French doors led to an Olympic-sized pool.

A king-sized bed with a billion pillows drew his eye along the back wall.

A soft bed, from the plush look of the bedding, and all the frilly, girly accessories. He’d never been a fan of light colors and frill. It always made him feel like a bull in a china shop. He’d be afraid to move about, and constantly checked his hands for dirt, just in case.

But this? Yeah, he could get used to this. The way Nebraska’s dark skin and black hair would stand out against all that ivory, a tribal princess, with smooth skin, and fire in her eyes.

Oh, yeah, he could get used to frills.

Nebraska stepped out of the walk-in closet in panties.

And nothing else.

She’d shed the contacts and let her hair fall around her face in long, silken strands, the ends teasing the tips of her bare breasts.

His blood shot like lava through his veins. He flexed his hands as they itched to grab her, throw her over his shoulder, and toss her into the silly sea of pillows she had piled up there.

“I decided to not lump you in with those assholes I was talking about. Now I want you to show me how good you are,” she said, hand placed on her cocked hip.

He ran both hands through his hair, holding it back behind his head while he took her in. The under-curve of her plump breast, the way her waist tapered in before her hips rounded out, giving her a slammin’ hourglass shape.

But probably the best part was the slight roundness of her belly and the absence of ribs sticking out. She was flesh and blood woman, and she had invited him in to take.

Fuck, if he was too weak to not pass on the chance.

He crooked his finger at her. “Get your sweet ass over here,” he said.

The side of her mouth tipped up in a sultry grin as she took slow, sweet steps toward him, designed to tease and torture every step of the way.

She stopped right before him, the tips of her toes against the tips of his boots. He could reach out and touch her right now. He could cup that breast the way he had wanted to before. He could slide his fingers right between those sweet thighs and coat his fingers in the wetness he knew was there.

He could do all of those things and she would let him.

But it was too easy.

Reaching around the back of her head, he sank his hands into that mass of silky hair and locked his fingers, tugging her head back, exposing her throat.

The ends of her hair shifted, revealing dusky nipples puckered tight, waiting to be worshipped.

With his cock painfully hard, pressing against his jeans—with temptation right before him—he surprised himself by wanting her to tease him even more.

“Touch your nipples, Nebraska.”

Her heavy-lidded gaze snapped to his. “Come again?”

He shook her, just a little. “Oh, I think you heard me. You’re so used to calling the shots, aren’t you? But here’s the thing, I’m calling them from here on out and you’re going to listen. Wanna know why?”

“Enlighten me,” she said, her voice low.

“Because it’s a challenge for you.” He kissed her cheek. “If I tell you to touch your nipples.” He grazed his lips over her jaw. “Tease your clit.” He bit the soft skin of her neck. “Or finger your hot pussy and then taste your fingers after.” He licked along the swell of her collarbone. “You’ll do it just so I can’t call you a coward.”

A flush rose to her cheeks and she sucked in a ragged breath. “Bastard.”

“And you love it,” he said, taking her mouth in a searing kiss. She opened beneath him and he took total advantage, sucking her tongue into his mouth.

He tasted her, teased her, bit into her bottom lip and sucked in her moan when he laved the bite with his tongue, absorbing her taste, like warm honey, and going back for more.

“Now, I said touch your nipples. I won’t say it again.”

He kept his eyes on hers, but knew she had reached for the stiff peaks because of the way her wrists dragged along his chest, over his T-shirt.

He glanced down and watched as she pinched the tight buds, her eyelids drifting shut, her lips parting with the sensation of it.

“Tell me what it feels like, Nebraska.” He reached for his belt and worked the buckle, freeing the button of his jeans.

“It aches and tingles,” she gasped out, biting her lip and pinching harder.

“Where does it tingle?” God, he had to get the fuck out of these jeans and inside her. He wanted to watch as she did all the things he commanded, but he didn’t know if he had it in him to hold out that long. Not now, having seen her do his bidding and the pleasure she was getting from it.

“My pussy,” she whispered.

“Now say it like you mean it, Nebraska,” he commanded. With a flick of his thumb and finger the button popped on his jeans and he lowered the zipper, careful to not maim his hard cock.

If he fucked up and ended the party before it could really begin, his balls might well just explode.

He yanked his pants down, freeing himself. He put two fingers to her bottom lip. “Open up,” he said.

She parted her lips for him and he dipped his fingers inside her mouth. “Now get them nice and wet so I can rub that pussy.”

She swirled her tongue over the digits and sucked.

“That’s it, Nebraska. Now give them back.”

She opened slightly, and he dragged his fingers out of her mouth, over her tongue, and slid them right between her soft thighs, going straight to the wet pussy waiting for his touch.

He groaned at the warmth of her and clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to bury himself inside her where she stood. Desperate for a taste after prolonging his torture, he sucked her nipple into his mouth as he worked his fingers over her clit, grazing, circling, then grazing again until her breathing grew ragged and her desperate gulps for air filled his ears.

He may not have gotten his vacation, but he’d found his hot woman. And after the way she’d branded herself on him in just the short time they had been together, there was no way he was going anywhere.

***

Slyder sank his deft fingers inside her. She cried out with the way it set off pulses through her veins as sensations built, launching her right toward what had to be the hottest sexual experience and climax of her life.

No man had ever told her what to do in the bedroom. When he demanded she pleasure herself for him, an unfamiliar wave of embarrassment tried to take over, but damn if he didn’t see it and banish it with a litany of hot demands and his even hotter mouth.

“You remember what I said to you this morning, Nebraska?”

With his fingers rubbing against her G-spot, and his palm applying grinding pressure to her clit, she couldn’t remember two times two if someone asked her.

“Um…” She gasped when he flicked her nipple with his tongue. “No, I, uh, I don’t remember.”

“About that position I wanted you in,” he hinted.

“On my hands and knees?” she asked.

“That’s the one.” He pulled his fingers out of her pussy and sucked them into his mouth before dipping them into hers, her musky flavor bursting on her tongue. The taste thrilled her with the naughtiness of it.

Releasing her hair, he took a step back. “Turn around, bend over, and slide off those panties for me.”

She’d be exposed. Really exposed. She looked into those hot blue eyes of his, practically glowing with passion. Knowing she’d put the look there was all the reinforcement she needed to encourage her.

She turned and glanced over her shoulder at him as she slid her fingers under the edges of her bikini, beginning the slow glide over her hips, careful to avoid her bandage.

His hand went to his pants, and she craned her neck to see what he was doing.

Her eyes shot wide when her gaze landed on his hard length—as he slowly stroked, back and forth, while he watched her.

She swallowed hard and sucked her lips between her teeth, wishing she could wrap her mouth around him. Most women she talked to hated blow jobs, but damn, they had to be doing them wrong. The power of having a man in her mouth, controlling his pleasure, tormenting him into a frenzy, and making him shout with the explosion into her mouth was like nothing else.

Just the act of sucking a man off brought her to orgasm, even if she wasn’t being touched.

Seeing the way she affected him built her confidence, so she bent over and dragged the bikinis down her legs before stepping out of them.

Before he could give her another instruction she turned to him and wrapped her hand around his hard length, relishing the way he throbbed in her palm.

He hissed, closing his eyes and arching his back, then thrust himself further into her hands.

He grabbed the back of his T-shirt and yanked it over his head. It hit the floor and he took her other hand and laid it on his chest, inviting her to touch him.

She roamed over the ridges of his pecs and down over his washboard abs, where a sprinkling of hair dusted his lower stomach.

Rock-hard from head to toe, he had the ultimate fantasy-soldier physique. The kind women only found in movies and books.

And he stood before her, flesh and blood.

And all hers.

“When this is over,” she whispered against his chest as she kissed it, continuing her strokes, glorying in the way his breathing became uneven and shallow, “when they find out who’s doing this and I’m out of danger, I want this. I want you.”

He lay his hand over the one she danced over his pecs. “You might hate me before this is done. But if you don’t, I’m counting on it.”

Worrywart.

Why would she hate him? They were going to find out who was after her, and he was going to protect her. She owed him her future peace of mind. Her freedom from fear.

He shook his head and smiled the wicked grin she craved. “I want you to go over there and crawl onto that bed.”

“On one condition. You don’t let all of this alpha bossy shit go straight to your head.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now go,” he said, giving her ass a swat.

She raised her right knee and turned to look at him. He held his hands at his sides, curled into fists, the muscle in his jaw jumping.

She lifted the other and crawled to the middle of the bed. She was just about to lie down, when he called out to her.

“Stay right where you are and arch your back.”

His voice got closer.

The bed dipped at the same time her back arched. The cool air hit her exposed sex, making her wiggle.

His palm came down on her ass and squeezed. She heard him tear open a foil packet, and a few seconds later he pushed inside her, inch by heated inch.

She gasped as he stretched her, the feel of him so different than the toys she used to pleasure herself.

He was a hot-blooded male and she was at the mercy of the way he chose to move, where he put his hands, what he did to her with his mouth. The sensations were intoxicating, changing her, ruining any chance at future pleasure because this man had been inside her.

His palms glided up her back and cupped her shoulders as he pulled her back onto him. He set the pace, a pace that built pressure inside her, propelling her to drive herself back onto him even faster, desperate for the orgasm to break and give her relief.

The bastard knew it, too, because every time she teetered on the edge he slowed to a torturous rhythm that had her crying out.

“Please, Slyder. I’m begging you, please!” she cried.

He pulled out completely and she growled in frustration, but the sound quickly died on a squeal as his tongue dragged over her, circling her clit, and sucking it into his mouth.

She beat her fists on the bed, straining, arching her back until her belly practically touched the bed. Sweat broke out over her skin. She curled her fists into the covers, her nails scraping the fabric with so much force that the sound of it tearing under the pressure filled the room.

“Now,” he grunted, and thrust back inside her with a long, hard stroke. The dam broke and she screamed, with the sensation of bursting into a million pieces and flying apart.

She collapsed onto the bed where Slyder drove into her over and over, keeping the sharp sensations shooting through her until he spasmed above her with a hoarse shout.

He collapsed next to her, his face flushed, his eyes locked on hers as he ran his fingers through her damp hair.

Her eyes drifted shut, exhaustion pulling her under.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

“Sleep with me,” she mumbled.

“Someone needs to keep a lookout. It’s my job.

His voice faded away as weariness took over.