Quinn’s smile.
His voice.
His laughter.
I want you, Elly.
You see me, don’t you?
I begin to reach out. And my wish is granted. His face catches fire. Begins to turn to ash right before my very eyes. I want to recoil, but that means letting him go. I don’t want to let go. I try to cling, but my hand comes away with the blackest soot.
Soot. Everywhere. Climbing up my body, invading my mouth, my ears. My nostrils. I can’t breathe.
I jerk awake with a silent scream.
Then realize the dream isn’t over.
He’s found me. He’s in the room with me.
A louder scream as I launch out of bed. My shin smacks painfully into the bedside table as I scramble backwards.
“Don’t hurt me! Please don’t hurt me, Clay. We…let’s work something out.”
“Lucky—”
“I have money! Four hundred thousand dollars. It’s yours. I can get more. Just give me some time—” Wait. The voice. The smoked cedar aftershave. “Q?” I squeak.
“Lucky.”
The adrenaline high releases me with a gorging whoosh. I stagger from the relief, my hand pressing against my chest to calm my hammering heart. Then the implication of the last minute pounds into me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I lurch towards the bed again, intent on throwing some light, literally and figuratively on this situation.
“Stay,” he commands with a low, deep voice.
“No, I won’t fucking stay! I’m not your goddamn dog. You can’t creep into my bedroom and scare the living shit out of me, then tell me to stay.”
“My bedroom. My body. My pussy.”
“My sanity. My terror. My fucking cardiac arrest!”#p#分页标题#e#
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Would you, if I said hell yes?”
“No.”
“Then why bother asking?”
“To make you feel calmer.”
I dig shaking fingers through my hair. “Jesus.”
“Get back into bed, Lucky.”
“Why?”
“So I can make you feel better.”
My breath shudders out as other sensations replace fear and anger. The bombshell I dropped will need addressing. But right now, I see his hulking shape against the wall in the darkness, and I can’t think beyond the fact that he’s here.
He must sense my shifting mood, my building excitement. He detaches himself from the wall. “The bed. Now.”
I haltingly retrace my steps, slide between the still warm sheets. I can’t turn on the lights without permission, so I watch the shadow disrobe. A minute after I get in, he gets into bed with me. One large hand grabs my hips and pulls me into his body.
He’s fully aroused, his cock a solid column between us. I catch the gleam of his beautiful mask as he begins to explore my body.
Fear recedes.
Lust builds.
My sigh contains more than a hint of contentment as he parts my legs and kisses his way down my body. He reaches his destination, throws my legs over his shoulder and precedes to make out with my pussy.
The extreme emotions have me careening towards orgasm in three minutes flat. He licks me clean and prowls up by body. His thick cock finds my core and he rams deep and hard inside me.
“Oh!”
“Feel better?” his electronic voice demands.
“Maybe.”
He rams hard again and strokes in and out a few times. “How about now?”
My hands reach out, tentatively caress his muscular arms. When he doesn’t stop me, I glide my hands up to his broad shoulders. “Y…yes!”
He fucks me till every last shred of fear evaporates. Bending low, I think he’s going to kiss me. Finally. But he leans against my cheek.
“I frightened you. I’m sorry.”
“I…it’s okay.”
“My body. My pussy.”
Laughter startles out of me, despite the climax bearing down on me. “Yeah, champ. I haven’t forgotten.”
He grunts in satisfaction. Fucks me deep. Deeper than ever before. My body is a teeming morass of sensation. But a thought impinges.
“Q?”
“Hmm?”
“No cameras?”
“No. Not tonight. This is for you…for me…for us.”
Well, shit if that doesn’t make my treacherous body sing. Shit if that doesn’t make me come harder than I’ve come in my life.
32
SCENE 2 - VIAGRA NIGHTS
PART ONE
Lucky
“Can I have a friend over?”
Fionnella looks up from her clipboard. “A friend?” She says the word like it’s an STD.
I nod, calmly spoon another mouthful of cereal into my mouth.
“Male or female?” she asks from across the kitchen isle.
“Does it matter?”