Bones Page 9
Without missing a beat, Lauren leans into me at the sound of my words, and I wrap her in a tight, comforting hug as I lean back slowly onto the bed with her. I hold her safe until we’re horizontal, legs still hanging off the edge of the bed, and I lay her next to me to stare into her eyes with a big, stupid smile as we lay there in each other’s arms.
She stares at me with lidded eyes before cuddling closer to me, desperate for comfort, and it warms my heart to give it to her. We sit in silence for some time. I can barely see anything after she gets close to me and her mess of hair gets in my eyes, but I don’t care. I smell her faint perfume with every deep breath, and with her hands wrapped in mind, I can feel her heartbeat settling down moment by moment.
Her form squirms in my arms, and after I loosen my hug enough to let her move, I feel a soft kiss on my neck. I chuckle as she kisses my cheek, then finds my lips, and I kiss her back. This time, I take a tight hold of her again and grind her against me, feeling her squirm on the bed with me and bask in the comfort of each other’s presence. She just feels...good, in a simple way that feels like it needs more expression but doesn’t feel all that complex.
That suits a guy like me just fine.
Her hands wander over my muscled sides and up to my shoulders, where she drags her nails down as she tastes my tongue in her mouth. Our gentle, reassuring kissing is more for comfort than for passion, but there is a little of both in our every motion. It hasn’t even been long since I last gave her everything I had to give her, but my cock is already getting stiff again. It can’t stand every minute we spend apart, and it knows it wants to be lodged deep within her like she needs. This girl needs my help in more ways than one.
“You forgot all about this while we were messing around with each other,” I say in a rough whisper into her ear. I feel goosebumps prickle across her skin when I say it, and she nods softly. “I can push this away for you. It might not be for long, but I can give you a break from your own mind, can’t I?”
“So much that it almost scares me,” she confesses, squirming desperately against me.
She fills me with so much sympathy every time that we touch and every time I hear her voice or see her worry. I want to comfort her and share in that. I want to beat the shit out of her piece of crap dad. And I have half a mind to give the same thing to the fucking paparazzi trying to keep this poor girl from moving on with her life. But I can’t do that unless I keep her close.
“How about this,” I say, holding her and stroking her hair gently. “What if you crashed at my place for a little while?”
She looks up at me suddenly, surprised by the offer but clearly interested. She doesn’t seem to know what to say at first, so I hold up a hand and shake my head.
“I don’t mean like a you-pay-rent kind of thing, I mean you could just stay at my place as long as you like. If this journalist guy comes poking around, I’ll have the guys keep an eye out, but you’ll be somewhere nobody will come looking for you. A biker’s the last place anyone would guess someone like you would go,” I chuckle.
“Would...would you really be willing to do that, Bones?” she asks softly, eyes wide with desire.
“Of course,” I say without hesitation. “You can take your time, and I’ll help you come up with a plan for what to do next. You’ve had a hell of a lot happen in a short stretch of time, Lauren, you need to give yourself a break.” I pull her close again, putting a heavy hand on one of her breasts and cupping it, feeling its weight and shape as I grope her ass and make a warm smile spread across her face again. “And while we’re planning, I can keep your mind off it, every day and every night. How does that sound, little girl?”
“I think…” she says softly, still squirming in my grasp as I slowly work my hand down into her pants, touching her soft lips and making her gasp. I start to move my fingers in small circles, grinning as I tease her while she tries to think, grinning and blushing. “God, fuck you,” she laughs.
“Yeah?” I chuckle.
“I think that sounds good,” she finally says, putting her hands around my face and pressing a kiss to it. “Really good. Thank you, Bones.”
“Then it’s settled,” I say, sitting up and looking around the room. “Come on, let’s get you packed up and get the hell out of here. I can probably make it happen in one or two trips.”
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” she asks, looking up at me with fluttering eyes as I take stock of the room with a thoughtful look on my face.
“Of course I am,” I say, looking down at her. “What kind of man would I be if I wasn’t?” I stand up and start moving around the room to throw whatever I can into the suitcase for her, and she watches me with a thoughtful look in her eyes for a few seconds before she hops up and jumps in alongside me, looking as anxious as she is excited.
And before long, we’re ready to go, and I know damn well I’m getting in over my head. But I don’t care.
I’d go in a lot farther than that for Lauren. We’re both running from something, and for all I know, my past could be as close behind me as hers. But I can’t help but notice how often she looks at her phone, looking worried. I try not to let my mind wander into dark territory, but I can’t help but think…
...was that really a journalist on the phone, or is she covering something up from me?
Lauren
“So did you decorate this place by yourself?” I ask as I lean against the kitchen counter in Bones’s small, compact wood cabin.
“Yes. There’s not much to decorate. Not a lot of extra space to fill up with junk,” Bones answers from his spot on the leathery brown sofa.
“We have very different decorating styles,” I remark, smiling with amusement as I peer around at the stark surroundings. “I like to collect things. Especially old things. I don’t know why, but somehow it’s comforting to me to own little pieces of someone else’s history. Pre-loved items, I suppose.”
“There’s a certain logic to that I can follow,” Bones says graciously.
We have been here for a couple days now together, and I don’t know if I will ever get over the amazement of sharing a space with another person like this. I have been alone for so long that I began to think it would be that way forever. That I was so set in my ways and accustomed to the companionable silence that any company would feel like an intrusion. I am used to coveting my own space, guarding my privacy and my solitude like a dragon curled around a golden hoard. At home, I keep the house quiet. Even if I have the TV on or if I play music on my antique record player I recovered from a seedy thrift store miles and miles south toward the border, I make sure to keep my ears open to other sounds. I am hyper-vigilant, always listening for the telltale sounds of intruders. And after the life I have lived, the things I have seen, the looming shadows of people I’ve had to evade for all these years, it feels only natural to close myself off to the world. After all, it’s not as though the world has ever offered me anything but pain and loneliness.
Until now.
The past couple of days spent in tight proximity to the strange, mysterious, handsome devil who turned up in my life out of the foggy nowhere have been life-changing. I am learning to adapt to sharing my space, to talking out loud and giving my thoughts. Still, there are some old habits from my youth that seem unkillable. I still bend and defer to Bones. I am submissive to him, malleable enough to be molded and shaped in his hands or quieted with just a simple glance. But I know now that his prickly exterior does not fully extend to his inner world. He may be a bad boy, but he’s a good man underneath it all. He lives hard. He works hard. He plays just as hard, in and out of the bedroom.
It’s odd how easily we fall into a rhythm together. His place is tiny, but functional, and he has little more than exactly what he needs. The kitchen is just a small row of countertops and cabinets along one far wall of the compact living room. The whole place is glossy with floor to ceiling windows, which normally would scare the hell out of me, being so exposed. But even thoug
h he lives in a neighborhood on the outskirts of Pine Haven, much closer to town than my cottage is, it still feels secluded and private. This is mainly due to the lush green woods densely packed around all sides of the small cabin. Trees far older than any townsperson currently living stand tall and proud, looming over the cabin with branches outstretched like protective arms. It’s so thickly-wooded, in fact, that the moonlight can barely strain through the foliage and softly illuminate the living room.
It’s Tuesday night, and we’ve just finished cooking and devouring a sumptuous dinner together of braised short ribs, wild rice, and broccoli. As it turns out, Bones and I make one hell of a duo in the kitchen. Well, the small strip of counter space and burners that count as his kitchen. I can definitely see how this place reflects Bones as a person. Everything is in its place, and everything is clean. He favors stark lines, minimalist decor, and high-quality furnishings that will last a long time. I can tell that he’s probably purchased a good bit of his larger pieces from custom woodworkers, of which there are plenty to choose from in rural Wyoming. On the wall is a large, blown-up photograph of Grand Teton Mountain, looming majestically over the living room. There’s a small, carved wooden coffee table, heavy and durable, under which lies a creamy shag carpet rug. By the door are three sets of boots, plus my one pair of shoes I brought with me. In the back of the house is the small but peaceful bedroom with its gigantic king-sized bed on a carved mahogany frame and snowy-white bedsheets. There are perfectly-cut cabinets and shelves built into the wall opposite the bed, which are sparsely but neatly decorated with framed photographs of the Rocky Mountains, close-up pictures of certain local Wyoming plants and flowers, as well as a crisp photograph of a massive, majestic stag peering back over its shoulder at the camera, caught between two deadened trees in the crunchy snow.
The bathroom is attached to the bedroom, and is surprisingly spacious for how tightly-packed the cabin is overall. There’s a stone-and-marble shower and a claw foot tub opposite a massive mirror and stone basin sink. Following his minimalist style, all of the towels are a fluffy white, all an identical texture. I’m quickly learning that while Bones may come off as harsh and rough around the edges, there is a certain placid demeanor at his core. He makes me feel both tumultuous and calm at the same time, thrilling and comforting me at once. We have spent most of our time together here so far tangled in each other’s arms, barely able to pull apart long enough to do the necessary bits like washing up, eating, drinking. We are drawn together like magnets, and the fire between us doesn’t seem to be dwindling down any time soon.
I turn around to face the sink, switching on the tap to start washing the last of the dishes from dinner. I can hear the soft strains of a classic country song faintly floating from across the house. He has a stereo playing in his bedroom, but the cabin is small enough that sounds carry very well. As I squirt dish detergent onto a plate and start scrubbing, I half-consciously begin to sway my hips side to side, humming along with the music. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I suddenly become distinctly aware that I’m being watched. I know without even having to glance back over my shoulder that Bones is staring at me from his place on the sofa. There’s something so oddly arousing about doing housework in front of him. It makes me feel domestic, like I could really be cut out for his. And it makes me feel needed. Useful. When you live alone, you don’t get to feel that way. But here, with him, I can fantasize about what it could be like leading a normal life. Just doing all the little mundane things I’ve never expected to have in my world. I feel wanted here. That’s something I have not experienced in a long time.
So I decide that, if he’s going to watch me, I might as well give him a little show. I sway my hips more dramatically now, shaking my ass and humming louder. I let my long blonde hair swish back and forth, tossing it back so it cascades romantically down my shoulder blades. I can feel his gaze locked onto my body, following every one of my movements closely. When I hear the faint squeak of the sofa cushions moving, I’m tempted to look back, but I force myself not to. And that gives me an even bigger reward when he saunters up behind me and sweeps my hair over one shoulder, leaning down to kiss my bared neck on the other side. I sigh and close my eyes as his hands slide down my body, groping and caressing me. They slip down to grab my hips and he presses against me from behind. I feel a little thrill in my soul at the sensation of his stiffening cock hard against my ass.
I’m not wearing any panties, and in fact, I’m only wearing one of his old oversized t-shirts. It hangs loosely around my torso but is only long enough to barely conceal my ass. Not that it matters much, because Bones immediately slides the t-shirt up to expose me while he ruts against my body. He leans around to whisper into my ear, giving me chills.
“Are you trying to drive me crazy?” he murmurs breathily.
I shiver with pleasure and a coy smile pays around my lips.
“No. Of course not,” I answer softly.
“Oh, really? This is unintentional?” he purrs, slipping a hand between my thighs to cup my slick, warm mound. I inhale sharply and melt into his touch.
“Why? Is it working?” I murmur.
He chuckles and presses a kiss to my cheek while his fingers toy with my clit, circling and rubbing in perfect rhythm while I involuntarily rock against his hand. I can feel his shaft thickening and getting even harder, the length of it pressing into my ass. Bones presses at the top of my back, bending me over the sink and wedging his leg between my thighs so he can get a better purchase on my pussy. I groan as his fingers slide up and down my wet slit, toying with me and bringing me waves of pleasure before he slowly, methodically slips one long, thick finger inside my clenching cunny. I whimper with desire and roll my hips, my eyes flitting over to the wide window nearby. There are lots of trees shading us from the street, but if anyone were to walk by and look straight over in our direction, they would see me bent over like a slut. Somehow, the idea of being seen, of getting caught in this filthy position only arouses me more.
“You like this, little girl?” Bones snarls harshly against my ear. “You like me fingering your sweet little pussy?”
“Oh god, yes,” I whisper hoarsely, losing myself to the way his finger seems to perfectly reach my g-spot again and again. When he slides a second finger inside me, my knees start to buckle and go weak. But Bones holds me up, pinned against the sink with his hand between my legs. I push back against him, relishing the sensation of his hard cock pressing into me.
“Is this how it’s always going to be with you around? You showing off and making me hard?” Bones hisses. “Begging for me to punish you?”
I wiggle my ass and bite my lip, peering back at him coquettishly. “I hope so,” I whisper back. “I deserve to be punished.”
“Cocky little thing, aren’t you?” he growls possessively. “You better not be talking to any other man like this.”
“And what if I did? What would you do to me?” I hear myself asking coyly. I know without a single doubt that there is no other man alive I would give myself up to like this, but I can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him and make him touch me more.
“I would tear this sweet little ass up, that’s what I’d do,” Bones says gruffly. He rears back and gives my ass a resounding smack. I moan and buck against him, begging for more.
“Teach me, Bones. Teach me how to be a good girl,” I beg, poking out my bottom lip.
He smacks my ass again, harder this time. Against my ear, he growls, “You already know how to be good. I’m going to teach you to be bad. Cocky little girls deserve cock as punishment, don’t they?”
“Yes. Yes, sir. Punish me. Please,” I manage to choke out as his hand slides around to press against my throat. I can hear him unzipping his jeans and my pussy gets even slicker with honey. He gropes my ass, grinding up against me hard.
“Keep this up and you’ll be too sore to sit tomorrow, my filthy angel,” he warns.
By now, I’m so turned on I can hardly thi
nk. Still, my mind manages to throw together a sassy response that I know will get me what I want.
“I’m going to be sitting on your raw cock all day tomorrow no matter how sore my pretty little ass is,” I hiss back in reply.
“Such dirty words for a girl like you,” Bones snarls, pressing the thick head of his cock against my hole.
I press up into him, pleading for him to give it to me. Luckily, I don’t have to beg very hard. He shoves inside of me completely, the velvety tip of his shaft pushing into my g-spot and rocking back and forth while his hands rove up to grope my breasts and tweak my sensitive, stiffened nipples. Bones slaps my ass again while he slams into me again and again, striking that delicious spot deep inside with every powerful thrust. He tangles one hand in my long hair and yanks my head back so he can kiss me. The burning and stinging of my scalp, the twisted ache of my body position, and the heavenly ache of his huge cock inside me is more than enough to make me come. With one hand tangled and yanking my hair, the other pressing against my throat, I cry out and shudder with waves of orgasmic bliss, gushing all over his cock as his balls slap heavily against my ass over and over again.
“You like that, sweetheart? You love being fucked hard and treated like the dirty little bad girl you are?” Bones jeers icily.
“Yes. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” I gasp between gulps of air.
He slams into me even harder, and I can feel my ass cheeks jiggling with every push of his hips. I come twice, three, four times while he pummels my g-spot and toys with my breath, keeping me constantly on the edge of another orgasm. Finally, once my come is dripping down my thighs and his, Bones rears back and spears into me one final time. We both cry out and grasp at the kitchen counter as he releases a thick spurt of seed deep inside my aching cunt. Bones arches over my body, clinging to me as we breathe hard together, coming down from the thrill. He gives my ass one more soft slap and withdraws, his come mingling with mine as it tracks down my thighs.