No one got to me like he did.
He pulled me away from the van, carrying me across the shop without pausing in his attentions to my neck. I found myself laid back on the counter behind the panel truck, Ruger’s body covering my own. My hands clutching his head as he kissed down my throat, pausing every few seconds to suck, his fingers reaching between my legs to rub slowly up and down along the inside of my thigh.
I’d worn a black T-shirt with a V-neck, which proved no barrier to him at all. Ruger tugged the shirt up and flicked open the front clasp on my bra with disturbing speed. Then his mouth sucked in my nipple—the hard metal ball in his tongue almost painful—and my back arched up off the counter.
The hand between my legs unzipped my fly, and he lifted my hips just enough to slide off my cutoffs and panties. I felt the cool metal of the counter on my bare ass as Ruger’s roughened fingers rubbed up and down along my clit.
“Holy shit, that feels good,” I muttered, trying to wrap my brain around everything he’d said. This wasn’t the plan, not even a little bit. For one, I hadn’t planned on unpacking and sharing all that old baggage about Zach. Not now, not ever. The girls had told me to confront Ruger directly, set out my requirements and then stand up for myself.
Instead he gave the orders and I melted like a damned puddle all over a dirty bench in a shop.
What if someone walked in on us?
I’d opened my mouth to protest when Ruger pulled away from my breast, shoving his fingers into me hard at the same time. He dropped to his knees, lips finding my clit, and my brain shorted out completely.
His tongue flicked over my most sensitive spot, teasing me with the unholy combination of his soft tongue and that hard metal ball. Throw in the steady suction of his mouth and it was nearly enough to send me over the edge. Then his finger pressed deep, finding that perfect spot on my inside wall, sending shudders racking through my body. He kept up a steady pressure, rubbing back and forth as his tongue drove me slowly insane.
Then Ruger pulled away long enough to say, “Play with your tits.”
It didn’t occur to me to argue.
I moaned and reached up, taking my ni**les and rolling them between my fingers, pinching and tugging like he’d done the morning before. I’d held out against him then—I’d put Noah first, because any relationship between me and Ruger would be a disaster, and the fallout could leave us homeless again.
This time I wasn’t strong enough to say no.
There’s only so much self-control any woman can call upon before she melts. Mine was officially used up. Those fingers of his, rubbing across my G-spot, placing a strange, terrible pressure on me from within … That flicking tongue with its hard little knob … The strength of his shoulders as they supported my draped knees …
I wanted to squirm and kick and push against him. Instead, Ruger took his free hand and held it down across my stomach, controlling me. He drew me to the brink three times, utterly sadistic, and I hated him when he pulled away to catch his breath. Then I heard voices in the distance and reality broke through my haze.
There were people around—lots of people.
People who could walk into this shop at any minute. It didn’t even have a door. I opened my mouth to tell Ruger we needed to stop, but he chose that exact instant to suck me in again, hard, plunging his fingers deep. Instead of protesting, I felt my back arch as I exploded in a deep climax, trying my hardest not to scream, with mixed results.
Ruger stood up slowly between my legs, running his hands along my body, from my br**sts to my thighs, eyes full of dark satisfaction. I lay there, almost dizzy as he leaned over and caught my hands. He pulled them tightly over my head, whipping out his belt and wrapping it quickly around my wrists, securing them to something behind me.
The whole process took about thirty seconds—Ruger was a little too proficient at tying someone up for my comfort. I tugged my wrists, realizing it wasn’t just for show. He had me. Completely. My eyes widened. Ruger gave me a hard, feral smile as he unzipped his fly.
“Yeah, you’re mine now,” he muttered. “Don’t come until I say you can.”
I heard more voices, turning my head to look for them. Were they in the shop? I opened my mouth to protest, but Ruger reached up and put a finger over my mouth.
“Don’t start with me, Soph,” he said, his voice low and merciless. His hands reached down between us and then I felt the head of his c**k rubbing up and down along my clit, slow and deadly. Holy shit. Kimber hadn’t been lying—there was definitely something metal down there and it felt f**king fantastic.
Given that I’d already come, you’d think Ruger would be in rougher shape than me. Instead I found myself super-sensitized. If I’d thought his fingers felt good, they had nothing on his c**k sliding along my clit. He teased me until I hovered right at the edge again, eyes fixed on the hoist hanging from the ceiling. Then he leaned down, sucking my nipple in so hard it almost hurt, and sensation burst through me. I tried to wiggle my sex against his cock, but he held me pinned and immobile.
“You don’t come until I say,” he repeated, letting my nipple slide free, giving it a quick lick. “We clear?”
“Look at me,” Ruger demanded. I did, finding his face full of grim satisfaction. He slid his c**k up and down my clit again, one, two, three times. I grew wetter with every pass and for the life of me I couldn’t remember why I’d been against this.
Then he centered his c**k on my opening and pushed it in.
He slid his c**k into Sophie’s sweet pu**y as slowly as possible, savoring every inch. She was f**kin’ tight, like a clamp around his dick, the tug at his barbell making things just that much better. He could actually feel her heartbeat. If he didn’t know for a fact she’d given birth to a child, he’d think she was a goddamned virgin—hot and swollen and perfect.
Maybe he should’ve felt guilty, taking her like this.
She was all worked up emotionally, and vulnerable as hell. Understandable. Her little confession about Zach had floored him. He still couldn’t believe he’d been so blind, but he’d already decided one thing.
Next time he saw his stepbrother, he’d kill him.
As for Sophie … He’d f**ked up by not keeping a closer eye on her and Zach, and f**ked up even worse by letting the law step in to fix the problem. He hadn’t been ready to admit Sophie was his responsibility four years ago, despite what’d happened between them at Noah’s birth. He’d spent too long playing the good uncle, ignoring what he felt because he knew it wasn’t the best thing for her. She deserved to be free, and who was he to take that away from her?