Caged

  “Her best friend from high school. They were constantly together. She mooned over him like a lovesick calf. I think he dated her out of pity. But now that she’s not such a porker . . . maybe you’d better watch your back.”

  “Maybe you’d better watch your mouth, because you don’t know a fucking thing about her.”

  “Doesn’t seem like you know as much as you think you do either,” she retorted.

  The slam of the back door broke Molly and Mr. About-to-Be-Punched-in-the-Kisser apart.

  Molly glanced over at him with a measure of guilt.

  Deacon’s eyes narrowed.

  Mr. Gonna-Be-Handed-His-Ass looked at Molly and then Deacon.

  Clasping Tim’s hand with a challenging look, she towed him over to Deacon. “I’d like you to meet my good friend. Tim Bakke, this is Deacon McConnell.”

  With his build and coloring, this Tim guy was a dead ringer for Sandan Zach from Black Arts—a guy Molly had once dated.

  Now it’s on, motherfucker.

  Tim offered his hand first. “Nice to meet you, Deacon.”

  Shaking the proffered hand, Deacon muttered “ass-licker,” knowing it’d pass as likewise. Good one, bro. Dante laughed in his head, as he always had when they’d pulled that old gag. Never not funny.

  Deacon refocused on Molly. Why hadn’t she clarified who he was? Or when she’d said good friend—maybe she hadn’t been referring to Tim.

  Fuck that.

  Tim grabbed Molly’s hands. “I’m here; put me to work while we catch up. God. You look amazing. I’ll bet you have to beat the guys away with a stick.”

  E-fucking-nough.

  Deacon stood behind Molly, gliding his fingers down her arms in a deliberately sensual caress. He pulled her hands free from Tim’s and tugged her back against his body. “I don’t need a stick to beat down the guys dumb enough to touch her. I just use my hands.”

  Silence.

  Tim raised his eyebrows at Molly. “He’s your boyfriend?”

  Deacon almost snapped that he was a fucking man, not a goddamn boy.

  “Yes. We’re together.”

  “Huh.”

  “Who’d you think I was?” Deacon demanded.

  “A moving guy here to help with . . . stuff.” Tim didn’t budge at Deacon’s nonverbal expression of displeasure.

  Molly squeezed Deacon’s wrist as a warning. “Be nice.”

  Keeping his gaze on Tim, he said, “This is nice for me, babe.”

  “We’re working upstairs. Come on.”

  Deacon had no choice but to let her go.

  “This should go fast. Then we’ll head down to the cellar.”

  “I hate the cellar,” Tim said.

  “Well, at least Grams cleaned out the majority of crap down there two years ago, or we’d be stuck down there for a month,” Molly said as she started up the stairs.

  Tim followed her, but he paused to look at Deacon.

  That’s right. I’m watching you. And you’d better keep your beady eyes off her butt.

  He grabbed the garbage can and headed up the stairs. He’d make sure that motherfucker kept his hands off her too.

  • • •

  FOR the next two hours Molly and Tim reminisced.

  It went like this:

  Cue Tim’s braying laughter after they journeyed into the dank cellar: Hey, Mol, remember when we were fourteen and stole a bottle of homemade dandelion wine from down here?

  Cue Molly’s tittering laugh. Yes, the woman fucking tittered at Tim: All I remember about that night was puking outside, next to the grain bin.

  And so it went. On and on.

  Deacon pretended to tune them out. But that meant his thoughts drifted to his own memories. He hated getting sucked back into that time of his life, before life as he knew it ended.

  That was how he defined his life. Before. And after.

  What will happen when Molly asks about your childhood?

  He’d do the same thing he did when anyone pried into his life before; he’d hedge. Or flat-out lie if he had to. With her, he could fuck her until she ceased to think at all.

  Brandi and Jennifer clomped down the stairs.

  The one good thing about Tim showing up was the cousins had steered clear of them.

  Molly tossed an empty bottle in the garbage. “We’re almost done.”

  “Good. The auction guy will be here soon.”

  Jennifer stepped forward. “We need to talk to you alone.”

  “About family business that’s none of theirs,” Brandi said, gesturing to Tim and Deacon.

  “Nice try,” Deacon drawled. “Any family business will be handled by Molly’s attorney from here on out.”

  “You’ve just completely taken over her life, haven’t you?” Jennifer said.

  “Nope. Molly can take care of herself. I just ride shotgun and don’t let anyone run roughshod over her.”

  Tim snickered.

  “Whatever. We’ll be in the barn taking inventory.”

  “I guess we’re done here.” Molly stood and slapped the dust off her hands. “I need to wash up before I leave.”

  The mood was more subdued as Molly walked through the house one last time. Deacon would’ve left her alone, but he didn’t trust her cousins not to ruin this moment for her too.

  Finally she reached for his hand and said, “Let’s go.”

  Tim was waiting for them in the driveway. His focus was entirely on Molly. “You okay?”

  “It’s surreal to think this is the last time I’ll be here.” She shook off her melancholy. “Would you like to have supper with us since we’re leaving in the morning?”

  Tim’s gaze winged between Molly and Deacon. “Actually, my folks made plans.”

  “I’ve hardly seen you. Can you come to the motel when you get a moment so we can say goodbye?”

  Deacon set his hands on her shoulders and pulled her firmly against his chest. “You’d better call first. We probably won’t hear you banging on the door when we’re in the bedroom.”

  “Omigod, Deacon! What is wrong with you?”

  Tim frowned. “Molly, you sure you’ll be all right?”

  “She’s fucking fine. I take care of what’s mine.”

  Molly looked up at him.

  Deacon pressed his lips to hers. As much as he’d love to kiss her until the passion consumed them, if he didn’t back off, he’d be fucking her right here in front of her good friend Tim. When he rested his hand on her throat and stroked her jaw, her brown eyes were black with lust.

  For him. Not for that fucker who stood ten feet away, trying to encroach on his territory.

  “Uh, yeah. I’ll be heading out now,” Tim said. “And I’ll definitely give you a call before I swing by tonight.”

  Deacon said, “You do that,” without looking away from Molly.

  Only when he heard Tim’s car door slam and his engine start did he release her.

  Neither spoke on the drive to the motel.

  He parked in front of their room.

  Molly scrambled out of the car.

  Deacon followed her. He moved in behind her, watching her struggle with the room key. “Don’t run from me, babe. You’ve got nowhere to go.”

  She shoved the key in the lock.

  “Here’s what’ll happen once we’re alone,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ll be on you. In you. My mouth. My fingers. My cock. I’ll remind you who I am to you.” Deacon grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled it aside to get at her neck. He opened his mouth and sucked a love bruise on the tender skin.

  Her knees buckled. “Deacon.”

  “Open the goddamn door.”

  As soon as they were inside, he crushed her mouth beneath his.

  This was what he needed—to gorge himself on the taste of her. To revel in her response as she kissed him back with equal voraciousness.

  Between kisses he demanded, “Lift,” and yanked her shirt over her head. He twisted the front clasp of her bra until her tits tumbled i
nto his hands. After tossing the bra aside, he undid the button on her pants and lowered the zipper. “Off. Everything.”

  Molly kicked off her shoes. She wiggled her hips and her pants hit the floor.

  Planting his lips on hers, he backed her into the alcove. After he curled her fingers around the half wall, he said, “Brace yourself,” and dropped to his knees. He opened his mouth over her sex, sinking his teeth into the top of her mound as his tongue stroked her slit.

  When her legs bobbled, he gripped the back of her knee, lifting her leg up and draping it on his shoulder.

  “Oh god. What are you doing?”

  The first taste of her sweet pussy on his tongue turned him into a wild man. He moved his head back far enough only to spread her wide-open with his thumbs, fully exposing her hot, wet flesh. Burying his tongue deep in her tight channel. Coating his face with her essence.

  Now that I’ve had this, you’re mine.

  Deacon wanted to tell her how fucking addictive her taste was. How hard he was going to make her come. But he couldn’t tear his mouth away from this fragrant flesh to even speak. He mapped her folds with his lips. He curled his tongue into the opening to her body to lap up the sticky sweetness.

  Above him, Molly whimpered and moaned, but she held herself upright . . . until the moment Deacon’s mouth connected with her swollen clit.

  Four hard sucks, a few flicks of his tongue, and she detonated.

  More sweet juice coated his chin as he ate at her. He felt each hard pulse of her sex against his lips. When they tapered off, he released her, lowering her foot to the floor as he nuzzled the soft skin between her hips.

  He looked up to see her beautiful face flushed with pleasure.

  I did that. No other man gets to see you like this.

  Deacon rolled to his feet. He latched on to her right nipple and suckled softly, in spite of the need riding him.

  Her head lolled forward. “I don’t think my legs will keep me up much longer.”

  “Good thing they’ll be wrapped around my waist as I fuck you into the wall.”

  She opened her eyes.

  Deacon dug the condom out of his pocket before he ditched his jeans and boxers. His mouth sought the warm skin below her ear as he ripped the condom package open and rolled it on.

  He lifted her left leg, pressing the soft inside of her thigh against his hip bone. The head of his cock gravitated toward her wet center like a heat-seeking missile.

  One hard snap of his pelvis and he buried his cock in those snug pussy walls.

  She gasped.

  Deacon paused for a moment and realized Molly was still shaking. “You okay?”

  “You overwhelm me.”

  “Babe.” His eyes searched hers, his body vibrating with the need to get them back to the place where words weren’t necessary. “I’m not scaring you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then why is your whole body trembling?”

  “Because of that.”

  “What?”

  “That look in your eye.” Molly touched his chest. “You’re all this. I’m just me. Nothing special. But when you look at me like that, you make me feel . . .”

  “What?”

  “Precious. Like I’m worth having.”

  “You are. And you’re mine.” Possession roared through him. “Hold on to me.”

  Molly clutched the back of his neck.

  He plowed into her, hips pumping at full force. The all-encompassing need to imprint himself on her was stronger than he’d imagined.

  Her mouth was on him, treating him to tender kisses. On his lips. On his neck. On his jaw. This reverence destroyed him.

  Deacon pushed her knee out. Every time he drove in, he canted his pelvis, putting friction directly on her clit.

  “Yes. God. Don’t stop.”

  One. Two. Three thrusts and Molly unraveled.

  Fuck. He fought the deep rhythmic pulling of her cunt muscles, milking his cock. Not yet. He had to see this. Her total abandonment to the moment. To him. He had to hear the sexy moans drifting from her kiss-ravaged lips.

  That’s fucking mine too.

  He murmured, “Beautiful,” against her throat.

  She clamped her hands on his head. With her breath in his ear and her pussy tight around his cock . . . he felt the beginning of that spiral into the ultimate bliss. He clenched his ass cheeks, holding his breath through every hard spurt.

  White spots danced behind his lids.

  Molly whispered, “Babe. Gotta remember to breathe when you’re fucking me.”

  The noise he made was half laugh/half gasp.

  Deacon panted against her neck. Seemed to take forever to find his balance.

  “You okay?”

  “Fuck. I came so hard my balls hurt.”

  “It’s only fair if I’m chafed you should be too.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “There’s a lover’s concern,” she said dryly.

  He raised his head and gazed into her eyes. “I warned you it’d be like this.”

  “I know.” She paused and whispered, “One day.”

  “One day what?”

  “One day we’ve been lovers and you’re already fucking me into acceptance of your caveman ways.”

  “You’re not complaining,” he said, lightly sinking his teeth into her chin.

  “No, I’m not. But can you let me go so I can clean myself up?” Almost on cue, her stomach growled. “We forgot to eat today.”

  Deacon’s lips followed the arc of her throat up to her chin. “I forgot to work out today too.”

  “You carted stuff and moved stuff around for hours!”

  “Fetching and carrying doesn’t count as cardio.” He swept his lips across hers, unwilling to break their connection. “I can’t go without it. Not this close to a fight.”

  Guilt darkened her eyes, and she looked away.

  “Molly. Don’t. There are enough hours left in the day to get my workout in. I didn’t tell you that to make you feel guilty, dammit.”