Wild Ride(23)
“Come over here.” He slid his gaze up and down her body as she approached. A flush of excitement turned her skin a soft, glowing pink.
He patted the couch beside him and she sat down. He pulled a key from his pocket and slipped it into one of the cups of the bra.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
He just shrugged, then took her hand and led her outside and across the patio toward the sandy beach where the bed was. Her eyes widened when she saw a wooden stock near the bed. He walked right to it.
“Put your head and arms in,” he instructed.
It was open and ready for her. She leaned over and rested her neck on the large, padded, half-circle opening, and rested her wrists in the smaller ones on each side.
He latched the device closed and stepped back.
He walked around her, his gaze taking in the sight of her bent over, unable to stand up, her hands trapped.
* * *
Marissa watched him step into her line of sight again and craned her neck to gaze at his face, rather than his crotch in front of her.
“Comfortable?” he asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He laughed and stepped behind her. She started as his big hand glided up her thigh, then over her ass. He cupped her, then his fingers stroked over the leather crotch of her skimpy panties.
“What about now?”
The feel of his fingers stroking her there made her quiver with need, but she shook her head.
“Not really.”
His fingers stilled. “You want me to stop.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He laughed again. She liked the deep rumbling sound. He’d always been so serious before this, but now he seemed more relaxed. More… playful maybe.
He stroked her a couple more times. His attention, and the situation, had made her wet with need.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“You’re leaving me here?”
She heard the patio door open.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be alone for long.”
As she stood there immobile, her ass hiked in the air, she watched the waves roll onto the shore, the soft crashing sound relaxing her as she waited for Killer to return.
He’d painted a picture of a hot fantasy with her and one or more men. Did he intend to bring out toys to simulate another man? Or several? Would he glide his big cock into her then press a silicon erection into her back passage?
She squirmed a little at the thought of him filling her both ways. Heat washed through her, not only at the thought of the physical stimulation, but at the thought that Killer was becoming more playful. Could this turn into a real relationship between them?
“Hello, Marissa.”
Her eyes widened and her head jerked upward, straining her neck.
Rip stood in front of her. All tattooed, masculine, dangerous, six plus feet of him.
Her heart pounded loudly and she could barely find her voice.
“What are you doing here?” The words came out barely louder than a whisper.
He stepped closer and her heart hammered faster. Then she realized she wasn’t as helpless as she seemed.
“Go away right now or I’ll scream. I’m here with someone and he’ll come out here and—”
“You mean Killer?”
Her gaze darted to his face, and his smug smile.
“He invited me here.”
She could barely breathe. She felt faint and her body began to tremble.
“No, that can’t be.” She trusted Killer. “He wouldn’t…”
“Wouldn’t what? Serve you up to your ex-boyfriend? Force you to face him? To finally listen to him?”
She stared at him and tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back, but not before he noticed.
He crouched down, his face a foot from hers. “Marissa, what do you think I’m going to do to you?”
She drew in a breath and stared at the face that had haunted her dreams for so long. The face of the man she had thought she’d loved, but who now just sent fear rippling through her.
“Hurt me,” she said in a small voice.
His eyes filled with concern as he reached out his hand and stroked her hair. His touch was gentle, almost comforting.
He shook his head. “I never wanted to hurt you, Marissa.”
He stood up and pulled on the top of the stock. It didn’t open. “Where’s the key for this thing?”
She became very conscious of the hard key between her breasts, tucked there by Killer earlier, but she didn’t say anything.
Rip crouched in front of her again. “Marissa, I want to talk to you face-to-face. Not your face to my crotch.”
He stood up, and despite her fear of the man, she couldn’t help remembering opening his jeans and sliding her hand inside and pulled out his big, thick cock, then gliding her lips around it. She remembered the feel of it in her mouth. She ran her tongue over her dry lips.