Locked and Loaded (Bullet, #6) Page 8

  Jennifer was impatient, though, and she moved her hands to the top of her blouse. He could feel her messing with the top button and then she grabbed the bottom of the shirt, pulling it up. He had to take his lips off hers so she could yank it over her head and off—and he wasn’t sure where it landed.

  But he couldn’t resist her bare flesh. Underneath the shimmery pink blouse was a lacy white bra—and why the fuck hadn’t he noticed that before right this second? Her breasts were noticeably larger than the last time they’d been together.

  Holy fuck. Had she had enhancement surgery? He wasn’t complaining but he doubted it just the same, because her breasts weren’t monstrous compared to before—in fact, running his hand over the top of one hadn’t revealed to him its larger size. It wasn’t a huge change at all, so he couldn’t believe she’d even bother with surgery? They merely seemed plumper, rounder, and maybe it was all his imagination.

  But his cock very much liked them.

  As much as he fought to keep the image out of his head, he wondered if it was because he’d been spending far too much time with reedy, strung out versions of Jennifer, instead of the real deal. Maybe it had been far too long that he’d appreciated the real woman in the flesh.

  Zane pushed out the images once more and pulled Jennifer close before then dropping them both to the big fluffy bed, but he wasn’t content just having her body touch his. His lips, his mouth needed to feel and taste the beautiful flesh underneath that damned lacy bra.

  He licked along the scalloped edge at the top of her left breast, not far from that pointy nipple, and she sighed, once more grabbing his hair in her fists. God, he loved that feeling, because it indicated that she was starting to feel as needy as he was. He could feel his hands grabbing her hips, a little too hard, perhaps, and so he slid the right one up her side until his palm covered the breast just underneath his chin. Delicately, he eased his fingers over the edge of the bra and pulled down on the cup. It got tight, resisting his pull because he hadn’t yanked the strap down off her shoulder, but he got it down past her nipple anyway and, as if he were a hungry man, he lapped at her pointy nipple, eliciting a gasp from her lips as her hands tightened around his hair again.

  He let go of the cup then, tracing her skin with his tongue down to the cleavage while he ran his fingers up her strap to her shoulder, pulling it down her arm. He balanced himself on his elbow while running his other hand up, ready to be done with the bra entirely. After pulling the other strap down, he slid that hand behind her back and began working at the clasps while he moved his mouth up, one kiss at a time, to her neck. He alternated between tasting her with his open mouth and licking the flesh with his tongue, and she didn’t seem to have a preference. She was enjoying every sensation he laid on her.

  “Mmm, Zane,” she whispered, causing the blood to surge though his veins again. She loosened her grip on his hair and pulled her arms down, squeezing them between their bodies until they were at his waist, and then she began working on the button at the top of his jeans.

  Wow.

  He brought his lips to her ear. “You are so fucking hot, babe,” he told her, and she responded with a little moan. His cock wasn’t going to get any damned harder, especially with her fingers right there. After she undid the button, she yanked down on the zipper and the vibration made the blood pump harder into his cock. It was all—everything—right there: his thoughts, his sense of feeling, every bit of attention he had.

  In seconds, she wrapped her warm hand around his shaft, loosening it from the confines of clothing, and he felt her thumb rubbing against the head, swirling the pre-cum that had oozed out around it, as if getting him ready to enter her. He knew, though, that they’d use a condom—at least the first time. They always started out utilizing caution—she didn’t know where he’d been (and likely wouldn’t want to know) and vice versa...although he knew—just knew—she wasn’t nearly as big a slut as he was.

  It was his turn to let out a groan and he brought his mouth to hers, ramming his tongue inside where she took him, all of him, just as she was going to do with his cock in a few moments.

  How he had any restraint left was beyond his reasoning.

  How they’d waited this long was also beyond his imagining.

  She was his other half and it had been far too long since they’d been together. She was the water he needed to drink, the air he needed to breathe, and he hadn’t realized how big a need she’d been until he was taking her in again.

  Jennifer pressed against him, urging him to lie back against the bed, and he obeyed. It gave him easier access to her, and he used it as an excuse to unbutton her pants. She removed her hands from inside his jeans and ran them up underneath his t-shirt, her warm palms sliding over his abdomen and then chest. When she got to his pecs, she paused, because he was touching her through her panties.

  They were soaked.

  Jesus. As he moved his fingers down, creating space between the jeans and panties on his way, he realized he could feel the hardened nub of her clit through the fabric. Shit. He looked at her then and she closed her eyes as he swirled his index finger against that spot. “Mmm.” He wanted to work his hand inside, but he was afraid of ruining the moment. She was enjoying this right now, and to pull away—even for a second—would be to break the spell. The silky fabric was so wet, it was almost like touching her flesh anyway, so he went with the flow. The next groan out of her caused her mouth to open and her palms to squeeze so that he felt her nails against the flesh of his chest.

  He kept his finger rotating in a clockwise motion, keeping his eyes on her face. He could see the pleasure there, even though her eyes weren’t communicating with him. He wasn’t going to stop now until he left her a quivering puddle of jelly, melting onto his body. As he continued drawing the circles against her, he heard her breathing quicken, saw her chest swelling with each deep gulp she took. She started grinding against his finger, making him wonder if he wasn’t moving fast enough for her or in the right way, but he kept pushing against her just the same. He felt her leg muscles getting tighter and tighter as she pressed into his pecs harder, her knees mashing into the sides of his body.

  Her response to her climax began as a hum in the back of her throat and her grinding slowed, indicating to him that he needed to, more than ever, focus on moving that finger against her. Her knees pressed even harder into him in an undulating fashion as the sounds from her mouth grew louder. She moaned then, wailing what was almost a song and, to him, it definitely was music to his ears. It told him he needed to keep going, continue giving her what she needed.

  God, he wanted that pussy wrapped around his cock.

  As soon as her orgasm dwindled into nothing and her knees were no longer digging into him, he lifted his ass up off the bed and pulled his jeans and underwear down. He was then going to flip Jennifer onto her back, but she removed one of the hands from his chest—the one that had nails practically embedded in his left pec—and he felt her hand brush against his cock before working her hand down farther, where she pulled the panties to one crook of her leg and positioned herself until she was able to slide him inside.

  Ah. Oh, God. That. That was pure bliss.

  Heaven...the one place he never wanted to leave.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “ZANE CARSON! YOU’RE a...a...”

  “Aw, c’mon, baby; just listen.”

  “...a no good motherfucker!”

  “Whoa. Whoa. Listen, babe, I know you’re upset. I know because you never say shit like that. But listen—I...didn’t mean to, honey. It was an—”

  “Watch it. If you say it was an accident, so help me God, I’ll rip it off.”

  “You’ll—you’ll rip it off?”

  “It’s not funny, you bastard.”

  “It is, Jen. C’mon. Admit it. Picturing you yanking on my dick, trying to rip it off, and it would just fucking grow, baby.”

  “You asshole. I’m outta here.”

  “No, wait. Wait, Jen. Hone
y, I’m so sorry. You gotta believe me. I don’t...I don’t know what came over me. I—believe me. I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally...”

  Jennifer nuzzled her cheek against Zane’s warm chest, relishing the feel of the smooth flesh against her face, breathing in his scent as deeply as she could. She’d forgotten how much she loved the feel of resting against this man. There was no one else who could compare.

  The biggest reason was because he knew her, knew her body in a way no other man ever could. He knew the perfect way to touch her to bring her to climax. For some reason, this time seemed to happen faster than in the past. Was it because she’d felt like she needed him now more than ever?

  That made no sense. She’d been ready and willing to let him go for good—for the sake of their daughter’s well-being. And now, all of a sudden, she was ready to just fall into his arms again, able to forgive all his past wrongs?

  Yes.

  It was stupid—she knew that—but it was testament to how much Zane meant to her. She had never, not once in her entire adult life, met anyone else who had a hold on her like Zane did. It was strange, and she couldn’t explain it. But there it was just the same.

  Once more, she found herself deeply in love with Zane, wanting to give her entire life over to him. She was even considering telling him her secret.

  She sighed and opened her eyes, watching herself brush her hand back and forth over her chest. She felt his arm underneath her body, his hand cupping her ass, could feel his breath stirring the hair on top of her head. “Zane?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  She paused in moving her hand and considered sitting up so she could look him in the eyes, but she decided instead to keep her head down for the moment. She was vulnerable right now and needed that distance. “Why can’t it always be like this?”

  His voice was sleepy sounding. “What? You mean...getting along?”

  She smiled. “Yeah. Why can’t we always do that?”

  “Hell, honey, I don’t know. That’s like asking me why the sun comes up every morning.”

  “I can give you the reason for that.”

  Zane chuckled. “So you’re telling me that we’re the unsolved mystery of the universe?”

  She couldn’t help the giggle. “Pretty much.” She fell quiet again. If she couldn’t explain it, couldn’t figure out how to make it continue happening, she could at least enjoy it while they had it. Maybe overanalyzing it was part of the problem. Maybe they had matured enough now that they could get along from now on.

  She could hope. There was that other reason too, but she couldn’t go there.

  “Hey, Zane.”

  “Yeah, babe?” His hand was slowing in its motions, so she knew he was getting sleepier. Before he drifted off, though, she was going to have to leave. She had their baby to care for. She had but one thing to do—she had to decide if she was going to tell him or hang onto the secret for longer.

  Oh, she was so close...

  But no. She couldn’t—shouldn’t—tell him.

  “What is it, Jen?” She felt him stir a little, maybe considering sitting up to look at her.

  She sucked in a deep breath. “Um...what if—” Jennifer stopped talking when she heard a noise outside Zane’s room. The door was open, but she couldn’t imagine what she’d heard was outside. Still, it could have been a noise his house made regularly that she wasn’t used to—maybe the AC or...something. But it gave her the chills just the same. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  Jennifer focused her attention on where she’d heard the noise. Somewhere in the hallway, she thought. She didn’t sit up but she turned her head back a little, straining. “That. It sounds almost like scratching.”

  Zane sat up a little. “Shit. Like a mouse or something?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Goddammit. I just had the pest control guy here last month.” He sat up and Jennifer had no choice but to sit up with him. She smiled, taking him in. Yes, he looked a little tired, but he was still her guy. This was the man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago when she was, for all intents and purposes, still a child. She would accept him, good or bad, tired or lively. He grinned at her. “Can’t get good help these days.” He got out of bed and started walking toward the doorway.

  “Don’t you want to put some clothes on, Zane?”

  “What? Think a mouse’ll bite my junk off?”

  She giggled again but then got serious. “No, but—but what if...what if it’s not a mouse?”

  “What else would it be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s fine, Jen.” He started walking again.

  “Want me to come with you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  She wanted to make sure he was okay, even though her worries were unfounded and silly. It would give her a chance to check out his always-cute ass, though. She saw his t-shirt hanging off the edge of the bed and grabbed it, pulling it over her head. He might not care if a mouse saw his junk, but Jennifer didn’t feel comfortable walking around his house nude.

  She didn’t even do that at home.

  Zane was already in the hallway by the time Jennifer had her private parts covered with his shirt, but she sprinted on tiptoe to catch up.

  He’d paused a few feet away from the bedroom door. They’d left the hallway light on earlier, so she could see the entire length. Nothing looked suspicious. His head was tilted and he was listening. Jennifer touched his arm and he turned to face her, putting his finger to his lips. As he stood in place, though, she saw his brows furrow. Finally, he looked at her and whispered. “I don’t hear it anymore. Do you?”

  Jennifer leaned her neck forward and tilted her ear. But she couldn’t hear a thing. “No.”

  His face broke into a grin and he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Then fuck it.” He kissed her and marched back to his room, dropping her on the bed, causing her to explode in a spasm of giggles until he leaned over her and touched her forehead with his. Then his expression was serious...and amorous.

  Could she go again? Yes, more than likely...especially with Zane.

  His kiss that time was slow, luxurious, and it made her wet in seconds.

  And then she heard the scratching noise again.

  She raised her eyebrows and wasn’t able to respond to the kiss anymore. Zane heard it too and paused, opening his eyes to look at her. He nodded, letting her know he too heard it, and he moved off her, sitting and then standing, looking around some but listening with effort.

  If she hadn’t been growing nervous, Jennifer might have found Zane’s gun half-cocked a bit amusing. As it was, she grinned...but she figured her inappropriate and stupid humor was being fueled by her anxiety.

  Zane’s eyes zipped toward the wall opposite the bed toward a doorway—there were two doors in the room other than the one exiting into the hallway, but in her desire, Jennifer hadn’t thought much about it. Now, she wondered what they were. Zane looked at her and pointed, then began walking slowly toward the door that was open. Jennifer wished he’d covered himself up but again knew it was silly to worry...probably because now she was thinking maybe he had a stalker. He was famous, after all, and he wouldn’t be the first celebrity to have a batshit crazy person break into his house.

  But she kept her mouth shut and walked behind him toward the mysterious door. When Zane got there, he reached his hand inside and flipped a switch. Seconds later, he was yelling. “You! What the hell are you doing here?”

  Jennifer heard a squeaky, tiny human voice. “Filing my nails.”

  “I can see that. But why are you doing it here?”

  “Because.”

  Zane walked inside and Jennifer crept a little closer, and then she could see that the room was a master bathroom. She saw a blonde woman huddled on the toilet seat and she was, in fact, filing her fingernails. That was when Zane stepped inside and grabbed a large black towe
l off the rack and wrapped it around his waist. “You need to get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”

  The blonde lifted her chin so she could see Zane’s eyes, and the look on her face was pathetic—imploring with no sense of dignity. “But...I heard you guys having fun. I could help out if you’d let me.”

  Jennifer didn’t say a word but furrowed her brow. This poor woman was obviously mentally disturbed. She wondered if she should be afraid of her, but she looked sad and rather harmless, the way she was kind of tucked into herself. The pathetic thing didn’t even seem to realize she should have been defending herself. “I told you earlier you needed to leave.”

  A ringing started in Jennifer’s ears and she felt the breath escape her body, all while her brain fought. Did Zane just say what she thought he’d said? Something impossible?

  “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

  Jennifer needed to sit down...but, first, she needed some answers. She found her voice and, even though it was scratchy, it worked. “Zane, do you know this woman?”

  He wrinkled his forehead and pulled his attention away from the tiny tragic blob huddled on his toilet. “What?”

  “I asked if you know her.”

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  Jennifer could feel that age-old anger building up in her chest cavity. Maybe she needed to rephrase. “Okay. But was she here earlier when you left for our date?”

  Zane started to respond and then stopped himself. And then he didn’t need to answer, because she could see it all over his face. It didn’t matter why she was there now.