His head rolls so his eyes come to mine, and I can see it in his gaze--that is all he intended to give me. I can see clearly that he's done with me, not just for the night but for any night thereafter. He opens his mouth I'm sure to either kick me out or let me down easy, so I push up and move over him quickly. My hands go to his cheeks and I press my mouth against his, forcing my tongue inside.
He doesn't even fight me, seemingly willing to give into me one more time the minute our mouths fuse together. My fingers press into his scalp and I roll, pulling him so he rolls right on top of me. He just fucked me hard and came hard, and yet he kisses me like he's starved. I feel the same way, my tongue and teeth clashing with his.
I start to moan, needing something more from him. He gives me nothing but his mouth, his hands pressed into the mattress to hold his weight off me.
Fisting his hair, I give a jerk on his head and it pops up so he looks down at me. His eyes are fevered yet hard, indicating his conflict. I don't care, though. I have him in bed right now and I'm not letting him push me away.
My lips curve into a catlike smile and I slide my fingers to the top of his head. I push down on it hard, and at first he doesn't budge. Our eyes war with each other, me wanting and him deciding if he's going to give me anything.
Finally he moves and lets me push him right down my body. He stops a moment to brush his lips across the top swell of my breast, still firmly held in place by my bra that never came off. I push on his head harder and he lets me.
I push him right down my body, his breath feathering across my stomach, and I spread my legs wide.
I push him down until my arms can't extend anymore and his face is hovering right over my pussy. My legs raise over his shoulders and come to rest with my calves on his back. His eyes peer up at me, flashing with both defiance and lust.
I tilt my hips upward in demand and tell him, "Give it to me, Van."
Fucking Christ...he then gives it to me by burying his face and stabbing his tongue inside of me.
Crying out, I thrust my hips up, only to have his hands flatten on my stomach and press me back down into the bed. Van gives a groan of approval that vibrates my entire core, and then he eats me out like the world will end if I don't come on his tongue.
My back arches off the bed, my head pressing down hard into the pillows. My heels dig into his back and my hips start to rotate against his mouth. He groans again and lashes at me hard with his tongue. An orgasm curls low in my pelvis and I suck in a hard breath, lifting my head to watch him. That dark, soft hair falling forward so I can't see his face, but the way his head is moving is so erotic, I decide to just let go and give into it.
I break apart with a soft cry, my pussy grinding against his face. I come and I come as he works me with his mouth. He doesn't stop and I don't ask him to. I make it past the uncomfortable oversensitivity of my clit, panting with effort to do so. He still doesn't stop and I know he has no intention of doing so.
So I dig my heels back into him and hang on for the ride.
--
Van slams into me one last time and groans out his release. He's got one of my legs raised straight in the air with a big hand wrapped around the back of my thigh, and the other holds my other leg pinned to the bed. My ass is half in the air so that the angle by which he was driving into me caused me to see stars when I came a few moments ago.
He's finally naked, and that was at my insistence.
God, he's glorious, even as I watch his face start to cloud over with dismay that I seduced him yet again. After he made me come twice with his mouth, I demanded he strip and fuck me again.
Van was utterly silent as he did so, his face awash with beautiful pleasure, so I know he wasn't too pissed at me for causing his fall.
When he finishes this time, though, he pulls out of me and rolls off the bed. I watch as he plucks the condom off, tossing it into a small wastebasket where the other one is resting. He bends over and grabs his jeans off the floor, refusing to look at me.
"Seriously...you're getting dressed?" I tease him as I stretch out with utter repletion on his mattress. "I thought you had more in you."
His eyes flash with annoyance as he tugs his jeans on and zips them up. "You need to get out of here. Lucas could be back anytime."
My chest tightens as I think about what he might be doing with that blonde from the bar. I hope to fuck he got too drunk and has performance issues.
"After he goes to bed tonight, want me to sneak back in here?" I ask Van, choosing to go back to teasing him rather than consider the ramifications of my brother's assholery.
"Nope," he says as he grabs his shirt off the end of the bed and pulls it over his head.
"Let me guess," I say dryly as I roll to my side and rest my head on the palm of my hand. I'm slightly mollified when Van gives a cursory but totally appreciative look at my naked body. "This was a one-time thing only. Or rather a two-time thing. Two orgasms for you. Four for me, to clarify."
"Pretty much," he says as he bends over again and grabs his wallet from the floor, tucking it into his back pocket. He turns toward his bedroom door, and this surprises me enough that I scurry off the bed.
"Wait," I call out as I move toward him. "You're not leaving, are you?"
"Yep," he says in that monotone, don't-fuck-with-me way.
"Do you think this is over?" I ask as I lay my hand on his arm.
"Yep," he says, and I know he's doing it to piss me off.
I roll my eyes at him. "Oh for fuck's sake, Van. What we just did was fucking amazing and you know it. Why would you walk away from that?"
I'm flat-out stunned when he pulls his chin in slightly so he can glance casually down my body. When his eyes come back up to meet mine, he looks me dead in the eye and says, "Now that you're wearing my sweat on your skin, you've sort of lost your shine. Time to move on."
I gasp in indignation over his coarse words, not that I thought what we shared melded our hearts together or anything. But I've never heard him be that cruel before. Part of me knows it's him trying to reestablish a wall, but damn...part of me is a little hurt by that.
"You don't mean that," I say with absolutely no certainty.
He just stares at me, refusing to affirm his statement, but not giving me anything else either.
"So if I dropped to my knees right now and took you into my throat, you wouldn't be interested in that?"
His jaw locks tight and he swallows hard. Triumph sweeps through me, because his refusal to answer tells me everything I need to know.
Leaning into Van slightly, I whisper, "I'll give you some space for now. But don't be surprised if I crawl into your bed while you're sleeping."
"I'll make sure to lock the door," he growls, and then turns and walks out of his room.
I let my laugh follow him all the way out, snickering when the front door slams shut behind him.
He and I both know there aren't any locks on the bedroom doors.
Chapter 9
Van
I take the last sip of gas station coffee I'd picked up about twenty minutes ago and place the empty Styrofoam cup in the cup holder. I look across the parking to the visitor entrance. I've been here once before but I didn't take in the details. I've been sitting in this parking lot for over four hours now, waiting for visiting hours to start.
I've had plenty of time the last several hours to look at the facility. The visitors' complex is a large square building with a guard tower rising up from the southeast corner. Behind that building is the prison itself. Everything is done in white stucco that's aged and molded over the years. A twenty-foot fence with barbed wire coils at the top separates the visitors' center from the rest of the facility, but even if a prisoner were to make it past that, there's another twenty-foot fence with barbed wire enclosing the visitor building from the outside world.
When I see a few people start to arrive, I don't get out of my truck right away. Instead I lean over to my glove compartment and pull out a worn envelope
I'd received almost three months ago. Ironically, it had come just one week before I got the trade offer to come east to the Cold Fury.
It's addressed to Grant VanBuskirk in care of Etta Turner at Etta's home in Redding, California. I was still playing for the LA Demons when she received it. My standing orders were to toss out any letters from the Virginia Department of Corrections, and she always did that. But this one wasn't from him, but rather from the warden's office. She felt it important enough to forward to me.
I reach inside the envelope and pull the letter out.
Dear Mr. VanBuskirk,
I am writing this inquiry to you per the request of Inmate #94920555, Arco VanBuskirk. As you are his next of kin, he has asked me to inform you that he has been diagnosed with non-small cell lung cancer and his prognosis is grim, since he is choosing not to undergo treatment. Mr. VanBuskirk has attempted to contact you, but he suspects you are not reading his letters. He wanted to make one last effort to reach you, in the hopes that you might consider a phone call or a visit with him before he passes.
If you could please contact me to discuss this, I can forward your decision to Mr. VanBuskirk.
Thank you for your consideration.