Saved For Me Page 4

  “Yeah.”

  She touches my face and traces a finger down the scar on my cheek. “And this?”

  I nod.

  “God damn. When I met you I thought you were a killer or a dealer…but you’re a Purple Heart, literally saving people’s asses all over the world.”

  I shrug and look away. “I might have saved a few in my time, but it wasn’t heroics. It’s just human. It’s what we’re supposed to do, right? Help each other?”

  Mercifully, she lets me change the subject. Once a Marine, always a Marine. But we have our whole lives to unpack all the horrors I saw there. And besides, there was nothing that happened to me there that didn’t also happen to thousands of others, some who died or came back without some limbs, or dogged by PTSD. Nothing that special about me.

  “When I finished with the military, I transitioned to law enforcement. Fortunately my family supported my decision. They invested a lot into me as a kid, trying to understand my quirks, so they’ve always understood my craving for danger, even if it puts them on edge.

  “Besides, I have plenty more brothers and sisters to take over the family’s business and holdings and philanthropic causes.

  When the opportunity came up for me to work undercover, the added danger and excitement appealed to me a lot more than the paperwork involved as a beat cop.

  “With my scars and my size, they trust me to handle the dirty job of undercover work without too much whining.”

  Wendy is still touching my face. Electricity sparks across the surface of my skin, and her warmth and light seep down underneath, into my veins. It feels so good to have a girl like her touching me, it’s beyond simple caveman lust.

  That’s there too. I mean, I could wrap her legs around me and have my way with her like a Marine on leave right now if she’d let me—if my sheer size wouldn’t completely decimate her—but there’s plenty beyond all of that.

  I don’t just want her. I want her to be a permanent part of my life. I want her attached me to at all times.

  “Your turn, Tink.”

  She smirks at the nickname I’ve given her, but then her smile turns sad.

  “I was raised by my single mom. Dad was never in the picture. She got sick when I was 15. We had no insurance, so there was no money to fight off the tumors. She said she didn’t want chemo anyway, but I feel like she was just saying that to appear strong for me. After she died, when I was 16, I started moving around, sleeping on friends’ couches, just staying ahead of Child Protective Services.

  “I managed to finish school and earn money by working evenings at the public library in my hometown. When I was 18, the librarians finally convinced me to apply to college, and they helped me apply for financial aid.

  “I ended up with a scholarship package to the college here, so I picked up and moved across the country all by myself. I got a part time job at the public library, thanks to great references from back home. The scholarship money covers tuition and room and board.

  “But right now I’m between semesters, and I can’t afford to stay on campus during the break. I have nowhere else to go for the holidays. Nobody on campus was hiring during the winter break, so I posted online that I was looking for babysitting work.

  “That bitch Amber lured me to the parking lot of the library, where Morty forced me into my car and made me drive at gunpoint to the strip club, the Wham Bam. She took my phone, too, which really pisses me off. Somehow Slate had seen my ad and set Amber up to pretend to be a single mom who was going to interview me.

  “And I guess, you know the rest of the story.”

  “You should have just come to me for money,” I say.

  “Why would I think you had any money while you were living in the same shit shack as I was? And also, we literally just met!”

  I smile. “Good point.”

  We finish eating and talking. She looks happy and full and relieved to just have somebody to talk to.

  She talks about growing up an only child with a single mom. She talks about wanting a bunch of kids of her own someday, in a big, loud house. Little does she know, these are things I’m already planning on giving her.

  After a while, she starts to yawn.

  “Oh shit. You’re tired. I really gotta learn to anticipate your needs,” I say.

  Wendy laughs. “No, you really gotta calm down.”

  “Let’s go then,” I say.

  Chapter 10

  Wendy

  He grabs me up in his arms and takes me to my new suite. The mysterious Fletcher has already put everything in place. There are fresh, squishy blankets on the four-poster bed and a dozen new throw pillows.

  “How did you know I liked throw pillows?”

  “Educated guess. You have a vagina?”

  I hit him in the shoulder and he winces. “Sexist much?”

  “Sorry,” he says.

  But it was a good guess. Of course. I love lots of throw pillows. Who doesn’t?

  “I can walk, you know.”

  “Thanks for the information,” he grunts out.

  He carries me into the en suite bathroom, which is replete with skin care products and the most luxurious towels I’ve ever seen. “Wow,” I say when I see my new electric toothbrush, hairbrushes, and an assortment of hair products and makeup brushes.

  “Fletcher is paid well to help me take care of my guests.” He sets me down on the counter and applies toothpaste on my brush for me.

  He keeps one hand on my knee while I brush my teeth. When I finish, I pick up a hairbrush and he takes it from me. “Here, let me.”

  I blush. “I’m not gonna say no to a man brushing my hair. I love having my hair played with.”

  “Good to know,” he says, as he smooths the bristles along my scalp. I close my eyes as a little bit more tension leaves my body. My scalp tingles. It feels like I’m a snow globe that he’s shaken and turned right side up again, and glitter is spreading all over my body, down into my blood, settling between my thighs.

  A tiny moan escapes my lips, and in response I think I detect a very low, very quiet growl in his throat.

  He’s leaning in close to me while he gently brushes out my tangles, so close I can feel his breath on my forehead. He’s so tall he’s still looking down at me as I sit on the counter.

  He could crush me with one meaty fist, but this tenderness is revealing him to be a giant teddy bear. A giant, glowering, extremely literal teddy bear who is now blatantly inhaling my hair.

  It’s then that I notice his legs are between my knees.

  And then, one hand is cupping my face.

  I feel his breath on my cheek and then his lips are there. They are soft like before, but now they’re warm and remind me of fresh buns from the bakery. That’s what his skin close up smells like, warm and toasty and tempting.

  He’s still brushing my hair while feathering my face with small kisses. My heart pounds in my chest. I turn my face upward, exposing my neck.

  The hairbrush clatters to the floor.

  Chapter 11

  Lars

  “Lars,” she says, just louder than a whisper.

  Her eyes close as she succumbs to my lips more urgently exploring her face, her forehead, the tender skin of her eyelids.

  “Tell me how you found me, Lars.”

  “Easy,” I murmur between kisses. “I’m a cop. It’s what I do.”

  She turns her face up to me, and my lips find hers.

  The sweetness of her is building a roaring fire of desire in me, and I want to kiss her harder.

  But dammit, I gotta go slow with this one. Her size and her inexperience compel me to. I don’t want to hurt her.

  She puts a hand on my chest, and this simple gesture brings a low moan out of me.

  Both of my hands grip her hair before I can stop myself. I feel her gasp, but she does not press me away.

  Her kiss grows deeper and I tease her mouth open for me. I growl when she welcomes my tongue. Pleasure swells as we taste each other.

/>   She grips the front of my shirt and she opens her mouth wider and moans for me.

  I break the kiss, which surprises her, and we both open our eyes.

  “My little Tink. Do you have any idea what your little noises are doing to me?”

  She examines my face and I see her swallow. “What am I doing?”

  I growl and grip her hair a little tighter. I grit into her ear, “You’re making my dick so hard I’m gonna blast a hole through these jeans any minute.”

  Her eyes flash and she gives me a wicked grin. “What about what you’re doing to me? I can feel myself dripping right through this jersey of yours.”

  She tightens her thighs around my hips. I claim her mouth with mine, more forcefully than before. I thrust my tongue in deeply, reaching all the way to the back of her throat.

  Her hands go to the front of my jeans. My cock twitches and I grunt into her mouth.

  She palms my cock and spreads her fingers to gauge its length and girth.

  I don’t see how her body could possibly become slick enough to fit me.

  “Sweetheart, I want you so bad, but I’m afraid I could hurt you, you’re so damn delicate.”

  She grips my cock harder and I have to call on every shred of restraint not to flip her over and have my way with her pussy.

  “I may be small, but I’m not going to break. Well, in a manner of speaking I guess I will, since technically I’m still a virgin…”

  I grit my teeth and remind myself that not only is she a virgin, she’s also been through trauma and, like me, is in desperate need of sleep.

  “Baby, we both need some sleep to get our heads right before that happens. Trust me?”

  She nods, but I can tell she’s not convinced.

  I lift her off the counter and carry her to the bed. When I set her down she averts her eyes and swallows. This pitiful look on her face, like I’ve abandoned her, kills me.

  “We can go slow,” she says.

  I lift the covers and gesture for her to slide her body under the blankets. She obeys, and I smile when I see she has fallen into my pattern of wanting to keep the physical connection going at all times; while I peel off my clothes, she strokes my body with one foot.

  I slide in next to her. “Baby, when it comes to you, my cock doesn’t have a slow speed.”

  I close in on my girl. I sniff her hair again, and dammit I just can’t place that aroma. Is it honeysuckle? No. But it’s so good.

  “But,” she starts.

  “No buts,” I reply.

  I slide up behind her and ask her to lie on her side so we can spoon. “I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t have your maximum surface area pressed against me at all times. This is your life now. Understand?”

  “Yes,” she says, meekly. “But.”

  “But what, baby?”

  She sighs. “I’m embarrassed.”

  “About what?”

  “Well, you got me so worked up I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”

  I chuckle and inhale her hair deeply.

  “Being too aroused to sleep is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about.”

  I glide my hand down the small curve of her hip, remembering that she’s bare under that jersey.

  “Nobody’s ever made me feel this way before.”

  “Are you telling me you’ve never even had an orgasm before? Not even by yourself?”

  She shakes her head no but says nothing. “I’ve looked at stuff on the internet, but I’ve just never bothered trying to do things…on my own.”

  The degree to which this woman is untouched has me astounded and aroused; I’m stiffer than morning wood right now. Fuck.

  I slide my hand under the jersey and feel the soft skin of her ass. She sighs and attempts to roll over on her back to face me, but I tell her to stay exactly where she is.

  “I’m gonna make you float off on a cloud off to sleep, baby girl, and you won’t have to do a damn thing,” I murmur into her neck.

  My hand slides up to her breast, and her breath catches as I gently squeeze it. I make her moan a little by rolling her nipple between my thumb and index finger, turning it into a tight little bud.

  She reaches her hand behind her and touches the fly on my boxer briefs. “Slow your roll, baby. Let me take care of you.”

  “Hmm,” she sighs, reluctantly taking her hand away.

  I weave the fingers of my other hand through her light golden locks. My other hand leaves her breast and trails downward, memorizing her ribcage, the hourglass bend in her tiny waist, her sweet navel, and finally cupping her sweet, soft little mound.

  “Has a man ever touched you here before?”

  She whimpers, “No, just you, Lars.”

  There’s a little gasp of surprise when my fingers explore her soft, short hairs. She opens up to me, her leg coming up to hook around my waist. God, it’s going to take everything in me to not pick her up and sheath myself in her warmth completely.

  I slide my fingers into her softest, tenderest place. She sucks in a breath and says my name. “Lars, that feels so good.”

  I growl into her hair, “Your pussy is mine, little Tink.” She whimpers as my fingers explore her folds. She moans when I slip one finger gently inside of her. Her walls clamp down on my finger, and I feel her sweetness dripping away. Her hips arc back against me, pressing her ass against my dick.

  “Your pussy is so fucking tight, Wendy. Let me stretch you out a little.”

  She moans her approval and I sink another finger inside. It doesn’t take long before both fingers are soaked in her juices. My fingers massage and stretch her walls. Her moans are getting louder. She presses her hips back so tightly that my dick is now sandwiched in her ass cheeks.

  I’m done for.

  “Your ass is playing with fire, Tink,” I say.

  “I’m not scared of you, cop,” she says huskily.

  Fuck.

  My fingers pull out of her and find her clit, and she sucks in her breath and yells, “Holy shit!”

  I start to rub my dick up and down against her ass because…I just can’t not do it. She’s panting and trembling as I’m massaging slow circles around her tight button.

  “Tink…” I bite out as I’m grinding against her backside. “Tell me again I’m the first to touch you like this.”

  “You’re the first. You saved me and I saved myself for just you.”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “Say my name,” she breathes.

  I press down on her clit and say, “You’re mine. I saved you for me, and nobody else gets this pussy after me, do you understand? I said do you understand, Wendy?”

  When she hears her name, she screams her climax. I join her by streaming jets of hot cum inside my briefs, gripping her body tight.

  I moan into her hair. “Fuck!” Although I regret spilling my seed anywhere other than inside this amazing woman, the relief is so welcome. Just holding her in my arms as she rides out the waves of her orgasm makes me overwhelmed with gratitude.

  Then it hits me. That scent I’m getting from her hair.

  It’s suddenly very vivid.

  When she’s finished, and her breathing returns to normal, I suck her juices off my fingers. It’s confirmed.

  As exhaustion finally takes hold of me, I let out the sigh of a large, sleepy canine and can only get out one phrase: “Orange blossom.”

  That night, I dream about running through my grandmother’s orange tree orchards, a place we visited every spring when I was a child. That place was the home of my best childhood memories. I would climb the trees when I wasn’t supposed to, and I would fall and hurt myself at least once a day. But I didn’t mind. I couldn’t stay away from that smell.

  And now it’s come full circle. I’ve never known where I fit in this world. And now that I’ve found my Wendy, I’ve finally fallen all the way down, landed safely and come home. I can finally sleep.

  Chapter 12

  Wendy

  “What the fuck is thi
s?”

  I’ve been straddling Lar’s chest for the last hour, waiting for him to wake up and face the music. It’s pretty comical how deeply he can sleep.

  I’m holding his phone aloft when he finally pops his eyes open.

  “Uh, a virgin pussy on my chest?”

  “Shut up. This,” I say, shoving the phone screen in his face.

  Lars’s eyes come into focus and then he wipes his hands over his face.

  “Guess the jig is up is what the fuck this is,” he says, giving me a wicked bad-boy grin.

  “Are you serious right now? I woke up to some alerts going off and I remembered I didn’t have my phone, so I figured it must be your phone. So I dug your phone out of your jeans and saw that you had an alert for activity at my apartment. Oh, and then! I found my phone in your other pocket! Amber took my phone at the library once Morty had me at gunpoint in the car. Can you please explain how you found this?”

  He suddenly sits up in bed, sliding me off and onto the mattress.

  “Wait, what?” he asks.

  “Yeah, that’s right. I found out you’ve been tailing me. Tailing, that’s the word, right? Or maybe stalking?”

  “Tink.”

  I get up on my knees and point in his face. “You don’t get to call me nicknames until you tell me the whole truth. Have you been stalking me?”

  He booms at me, and he’s so angry I fall backward and he’s now hovering over me. “Well if I hadn’t been watching you, where the fuck do you think you’d be right now?”

  I huff. “Oh, so the ends justify the means?”

  He gives me the look of a predator, and he’s literally on all fours on the bed, staring down at me like I’m about to get eaten alive.

  “Listen, Miss Thing. You had no business being in that apartment complex. I took it upon myself to protect you. You want the truth? I put a tracker on your phone. Why? Because you fucking handed it over to me on a silver platter. That right there told me you were too trusting to be left alone. And I had cameras installed outside your window and in the hallway. And…I put a tracker on your car. That’s how I found you in the end.”