I opened my eyes in the dark to the scent of Brynne up my nose and smiled when I figured out where we were. She’s in your bed with you. I was careful to be still so as not to disturb her sleeping. She faced me, but her head was turned down and curled around her arm. Entranced and content for the first time in days, I just watched her breathe for a few minutes. I wanted to touch my girl, but I let her sleep. By God she needed it.
Need. So much need inside me now. Needs only Brynne could satisfy, and that scared me. I couldn’t imagine feeling this way about any woman just a month ago, and now I couldn’t imagine not having her in my life. The time apart had changed me forever, I feared.
I inhaled deeply and held it. The faint smell of sex was in the sheets from earlier, but mostly it was just her clean, flowery scent that intoxicated me. It intoxicated me now just as it had intoxicated me on the very first night we met. She smelled so good I hated to leave her alone in the bed, but I got up carefully and threw on some joggers and a T-shirt.
I headed across the great room and down the hall to my office, leaving the bedroom door open a crack in case Brynne woke with a bad dream. I really needed a smoke, and I really needed to talk to her dad.
“Tom Bennett.” His clipped American accent on the other end of my mobile reminded me of how far away Brynne was from her family, although I must admit I loved that she considered London her home now.
“It’s Ethan.” I dragged in a deep inhale off my cig.
A beat of silence and then rushed questions. “Is Brynne safe? What’s happened? Where is she?”
“Nothing’s happened, Tom. She’s sleeping right now and perfectly safe.” I inhaled again.
“You’re with her? Wait. Is she at your place right now?” The silence grew very thick and ominous as Tom Bennett contemplated exactly what I’d been doing with his daughter. “So you two have worked it out. Look, I’m sorry about that call I made—”
“You’re sorry?” I interrupted him. “And yes, Brynne is with me at the moment and I plan to keep her very close, Tom.” I stubbed out my Djarum and decided against lighting up a new one until after this conversation was done. “Just so you know, I’m not going to apologize for being with her either. You set this whole thing up. I’m just the simple bloke who fell for a beautiful, lovely girl. Can’t help that now, can we?”
Tom made a noise that sounded like frustration to me. I had to give him credit for not exploding, but maybe he still had it in him. “Look, Ethan . . . I only want her safe. Brynne makes her own decisions in regards to who she wants to date. I just want those bastards to keep away from her. From reminding her of all the bad shit. You have no idea how she’s suffered. It nearly destroyed her.”
“I know. She told me everything tonight. I have a few things to say to you as well.”
“Go ahead,” Tom said impatiently.
“First, I want to thank you for acting on your ominous vibe and coming home for lunch to check on her that day. And second, I want to ask you something.” I paused for effect. “What in the mother-fuck were you thinking by not telling me what really happened to your daughter? Knowledge is power, Tom. How in the hell can I keep her protected when I don’t know what they did to her? What Brynne described to me was not some indiscreet sex tape, as you alluded to; it was a criminal act of assault and abuse upon a seventeen-year-old girl by three legally adult men.”
“I know that,” he said in a defeated voice. “I didn’t want to break her trust and disclose the details to you or anyone. That story is hers and hers alone to tell.”
Fuck this. I lit a second Djarum. “You left out the part about the senator getting her the scholarship to University of London. He knows exactly where she is, and has for years.”
“I realize that, and again, only wanted to get her as far away from those people as possible!” he gritted back. “I know this situation is potentially a disaster and leaves my daughter in the worst sort of position! Now do you see why I need you? This whole thing would have slipped away into oblivion if not for that plane crash. Who would have imagined Oakley being vetted as the next vice president!”
I sighed loudly. “I’m working on him, and so far I’m not finding any dirtiness popping up about the senator. I know his boy is trouble, but Senator Oakley’s black book is neat and tidy.”
“Well, I don’t trust him. And now one of those fucking degenerates is out of the picture! This story is everything the senator wishes dead and buried, and right now, my daughter is in the middle of that shit pile! This is unacceptable!”
“You’re right, and I’m watching them all, believe me. I have some contacts in the SF that are looking into the son’s military record. If there’s anything there, I’ll find it. Question for you. Brynne said the only person identifiable on the video was herself. She told me the others were mostly off camera and their voices dubbed over with a song—”
“I—I saw it. I saw what they did to my baby girl . . .” The man sounded broken now.
I closed my eyes and willed the images to just fade away. I couldn’t imagine being in his shoes, having seen that vileness and not tried to kill who hurt her. Tom Bennett got praise for not becoming a murderer in my book.
I cleared my throat so I could speak. “There’s something else you need to know about me.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s my responsibility now. I call the shots, and I make the contact with Oakley’s people when and if the time comes. Brynne is an adult and we are together. And if you’re worried about my motives for telling you this, don’t be. I love her, Tom. I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy.” I took a final drag on the smoke and let my words sink in.
He sighed before he answered. “I have two things to say to that. From a client who needs you, I wholeheartedly agree. I know you’re the man for the job. If anyone can see Brynne through this mess, it will be you.”
He paused, and I could guess what was coming next.
“But as a father who loves his daughter—and you really cannot understand until it happens to you—if you hurt her in this, and break her heart, I am coming after you, Blackstone, and I’ll have forgotten we were ever friends.”
I grinned in my chair, glad that this conversation was out of the way. “Fair enough, Tom Bennett. I can live with those terms.”
We spoke a bit more and I got the full backstory on the Oakleys of San Francisco. I arranged for us to talk again soon, to keep him abreast of any new developments, and ended the call.
I stayed at my desk for a bit, wrote up some notes, and sent some emails before shutting down my laptop. As I turned out the light, Simba fluttered madly from the aquarium glowing behind my desk. I went back and tossed him a treat before heading out to the balcony to sit for a while.
I passed the bedroom and heard nothing but silence. I wanted Brynne to sleep well. No more nightmares for my girl. She’d been through enough for a lifetime already.
The night sky held millions of stars tonight. It wasn’t often they were so sparkly, and I realized it’d been a long time since I had sat out here. I lit up another clove. This one was a throwaway, though. If I smoked outside, then nobody had to know about it. I shouldn’t smoke inside with Brynne here anyway.
I crossed my feet up on the ottoman and leaned back into the lounger. I let my mind wander into thoughts of today and all that had happened. I thought about Brynne’s tragic story and just how things had altered now. For both of us. Yeah . . . our times of darkness had been like a parallel universe. She’d been seventeen and I’d been twenty-five. Both of us in a very bad place. I felt more connected to her than ever, sitting out here alone, dragging spiced tobacco into my lungs.
I used to smoke Dunhills. It was my brand of choice and top of the line. I like fine things, so they were no surprise. But that all changed after Afghanistan. Lots of things changed after that place. I absorbed the nicotine my body craved and looked up at the myriad of stars shining overhead.
. . . Every guard smoked clove tobacco. Every last motherfucking rebel had one of those lovely, imperfect handrolleds hanging off his lips as they went about their tasks of beatings and mind fucks. And the smell? Like pure ambrosia. I dreamed in smokes in the first days of my capture. I dreamed about the sweet scent of clove mixed with tobacco until I was sure I would die before I ever tasted one. The beatings and interrogations started later. I don’t think they knew what they had captured at the first. All in good time, though, and they did figure it out eventually. The Afghans wanted to use me to negotiate the release of their own. I got that much from their nearly insensible ranting. Was totally out of my hands, though. Government policy is no negotiation with terrorists so I knew they would be disappointed. And I knew they would take out their frustrations on me. Which they did. I often wondered if they knew how close I’d come to breaking in the beginning. I had terrible guilt for knowing the truth, and felt great relief I’d never had to choose, but there were some interrogations (if you could call them such) where I would have sung like a canary in a coal mine if they’d offered me one of those beautiful, sweet, clove handrolleds to smoke. It was the very first thing I asked for when I walked out of that rubble pile. The US Marine who got to me first said I was in shock. I was . . . and I wasn’t, I suppose. I think he was in shock that anyone alive came out of what was left of my prison after they bombed it to shit (which I thanked him nicely for). But really I was in shock because I knew in that instant that the fates had changed for me. I had finally found some luck. Or luck had finally found me. Ethan Blackstone was a lucky, lucky man—
A shadow moved the faint light behind me and caught my attention. I turned my head. My heart lurched inside my chest to see Brynne standing just on the other side of the sliding glass, watching me. We stared at each other for a beat or two until she slid open the door and stepped out.
“You’re up,” I said.
“You’re out here smoking,” she said.
I set the cig in the ashtray and held my arms open to her. “You caught me.”
She came right over, looking decadently tousled from sleep in a light blue T-shirt and a pair of my silk boxers. And nothing underneath them. I tugged her down to me and she smiled a little, folding her long legs on either side of mine, straddling my lap and holding my face in her two hands.
“You are so busted, Blackstone.” Her eyes moved infinitesimally, trying to read me. I knew that’s what she was doing, and I so wished I could know what she was really thinking. Just the fact that she had crawled up on my lap and held my face thrilled me, but seeing her relaxed and happy after waking in the night pleased me more.
“Mmmmm, I know how you can punish me if you want,” I told her.
She snuggled against me and I drew my arms around her. “What were you thinking about? You looked very far away, sneaking your cigarette out here in the dark.”
I spoke into her hair and moved my hand up and down her back. “I was thinking about . . . luck. Being lucky. Having some.” It was the truth and the reason I still breathed even if I couldn’t share that part with her yet. I wanted to, but didn’t know how to even begin that journey with Brynne. She didn’t need more painful shit piled on top of what she already had to carry around.
“And are you? Lucky?”
“I didn’t used to be. But then my luck changed for the better one day. I took the gift handed me and started playing cards.”
She traced over my chest with her fingers very softly, probably unaware of how much she got to me.
“You won a lot of tournaments. My dad told me that’s how he met you.”
I nodded against her head, my lips still on her hair. “I liked your dad very much when we first met. I still do. I talked to him tonight.”
Her hand on my chest stilled for a moment but then resumed the soft rubbing. “And how did that go?”
“It went just about like I imagined it would. We both said what we needed to say and got down to brass tacks. He knows about us. I told him. He wants the same as me—to keep you safe and happy.”
“I do feel safe with you . . . I always have. And I know my dad respects you very much. He told me how he had to push you to take me on.” She made a sound against me, her mouth right over my pectoral. A nice sound; soft and pretty, and one that got me very hard. “I just wish he had told me what was happening with you.” She paused and then whispered longingly, “I have to know what’s going on, Ethan. I can’t ever go back to being the unaware victim. Secrets will destroy me—I just can’t handle them now. I’ll always have to know everything. Waking up like that and finding myself on that table, not knowing who or what—I can’t—”
“Shhhhh . . . I know.” I stopped her before she could get too worked up. “I realize that now.”
I reached for her face. I wanted to see her eyes when I told her the next part. She was absolutely beautiful looking up at me in the starry nighttime light from where she rested on my chest. Her lips needed kissing and I wanted to be inside her again, but I forced myself to speak instead. “I am so sorry for keeping secrets. I understand why you need transparency. I get it, and I promise to tell you everything from now on, even if I think you won’t like to hear it. And I know that was hard for you to tell me your story tonight, but I want you to know I am so damn proud of you. You are so strong . . . and lovely . . . and brilliant, Brynne Bennett. My beautiful American girl.” I rubbed over her lips with my thumb.
She smiled with half of her mouth up at me. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
“And you know what the best part is?” I asked.
“Tell me.”
“You’re here with me. Right here, where I can do this.” I dipped my hand up under her shirt and cupped a breast, so soft, filling my hand with its gentle weight. I smiled at her. The kind of smile I can feel on my face, and pretty much only give to her and a very short list of others.
“I am,” she said. “And I’m glad I’m here with you, Ethan. You’re the first person to make me . . . forget.” Her voice grew softer but, strangely, more clear. “I don’t know why it works with you, but it does. I—I couldn’t do—intimacy for a long time. And then it was still . . . difficult . . . those times I tried—”
“It doesn’t matter anymore, baby,” I interrupted. I hated to even imagine Brynne with someone else; another man seeing her naked, touching her, making her come. The images drove me mad with jealousy, but what she’d just told me also made me so damn happy at the same time. I was the first person to make her forget. Fuck yes! And I’d make it so I’d be the last person she’d ever remember too.
“I have you now, and I’m holding on to you, and I don’t ever want to let you go.”
She purred at me and her eyes flared as I palmed her other breast and found her tight budded nipple. She had sensitive nipples and I loved to devour them. And make her want me. This was the real motivation if I was honest. Making Brynne want me was my obsession.
I moved her hair aside and latched onto her neck with my lips. I loved the taste of her skin and how she responded when I touched her. We had chemistry together, and I knew this from the very beginning. Right now she was arching into my chest, bumping her breast further into my hand. I pinched the nipple and relished the sound she made when I did that. I knew where this was leading, or where I wanted it to lead. Me moving inside her, making her come, her getting that soft, gorgeous look in her eyes after she climaxed. I lived for that look in her eyes. That look drove me into behaviors I had never even considered before with a woman.
She started to grind on my lap. Her hips rocked over my now very aroused cock under the thin fabric of the joggers, making me envision all sorts of kinky things I could try. And man, did I want to try out some kink with her.
I snaked my hand up through the leg of the silk boxers she had on and right to her cleft. Easy access. And so fucking wet for me I could only forge ahead for more. She made sounds when I touched her quim and started circling over her tight bud of a clit that wanted my cock knocking against it. She wanted me. I made her want me sexually. If it was the best I could do with her for now, then I would take what I could get. I wanted more from my Brynne, though. So much more.
I dragged my mouth away from her neck and my hand from her pussy and lifted her off my lap to stand before me. I stayed in the lounger and flicked my gaze over her. “Strip for me.”
She wobbled on her feet a bit, looking down at me, her expression unreadable. I didn’t know what she would do with the command, but I didn’t care. I was about to find out, and the thrill of the challenge hardened me to iron.
“But we’re outside . . .” She turned to look off the balcony and then back to me.
“Get naked and climb back on top of me.”
She started breathing heavier, and I still wasn’t sure what she would do, but I told her anyway. Brynne liked it when I was blunt.
“No one can see. I want to fuck right here, right now, under the stars,” I said.
She stared me down with those eyes of hers whose color cannot be named and brought her hands to the bottom of her T-shirt. She swept it up and off in a blink, but held it in one hand for a moment before releasing the fabric and letting it drop to the balcony floor. That delay, that look she gave me was pure unadulterated sexy. My girl knew how to play this game. She also had the most gorgeous tits in the world.
She moved to the waistband of the shorts next. Her thumbs dug in under the elastic. My mouth began to water as they started down. She bent gracefully and stepped out of my silk boxers. She stood utterly bare for me, legs slightly parted, her hair wildly mussed from sleep, waiting for me to say what to do next.
“God, just look at you. There’s nothing you could tell me that would change how I feel about you, or make me want you less.” My cock pounded with its own heartbeat, dying to spunk her up. “Believe me,” I told her, my tone carrying a bit of a sting.
She got a look on her face that suggested my words relieved her. Brynne still had so much doubt in her about how her past might change my feelings for her. I have to work on showing her that it’s inconsequential to me. “Come here, beautiful.”
She came to me and crawled onto my lap again, folding her legs and settling right over my cock with only a layer of soft cotton separating our skin. I went for her tits first, cupping one in each hand and squeezing. They filled my hands exactly, not overflowing but a soft weight that tantalized with the promise of claiming another part of her body for my own. Perfection.
She arched back when I bit over a nipple. Not hard, but enough to give her a little twinge and then a glorious moan when I soothed it with my tongue. I wondered how she’d do with clamps. I bet I could get her to orgasm. In fact, I pretty much knew I could. She would be something magnificent to watch when it happened. I worked over the other breast and felt her stiffen, curling back in my arms, all splayed out and warm . . . and gorgeous.
I had to be inside her. To feel Brynne orgasm around my fingers or tongue or cock was an indescribable sensation, one I had become addicted to. I moved my hand down her back, sliding over her bum in a trail, going further down and underneath to meet her wet slit from behind. She gasped a soft sound when my fingers touched her quim, and she moaned when they penetrated her wet heat in a deep grip.
“You’re mine . . .,” I told her in a whisper, just inches from her face. “This pussy is mine. All the time . . . whether it’s my fingers . . . or my tongue . . . or my cock.”
She flared her eyes at me as my fingers went to work. I took her mouth and buried my tongue as far as I could in tandem with what my fingers were doing between her thighs. Those gorgeous thighs spread open over my lap because I’d told her to do it.
I was so sexed out I’m sure I was too rough with her, but I couldn’t seem to rein it in. She didn’t protest, and if she had, I would’ve stopped. Every response, every sound and sigh, every undulation over my cock, told me that, in fact, she got off on it. Brynne liked me dominant when we fucked, and I loved her exactly how she was with me.
Holding her this way, with my arm down behind her ass, forcing her ever closer against me, was something I had to do. I wanted her to understand that I couldn’t let her go again. I wouldn’t let her go.
I guess it was the need inside me to possess her. I’d needed the control during sex before, but not like this. Brynne did something to me I couldn’t even comprehend. Never before had I felt this way. Only with her.
I tugged her weight up off my hips. She got the idea and held herself suspended, enough for me to let go and to shove down the waist of my joggers. Not the easiest of tricks, but required if I wanted to be in her, and she seemed so on board with my plan. I held my cock straight up and told her on a harsh breath, “Right here. And fuck me good.”
I think I might have actually got a tear or two in my eyes when she slid down on me and started to move. I know I wanted to. I felt my eyes water at the first touch of her cunt surrounding my cock with all that slippery, lush heat, and during the wild ride as she bucked up and down, shagging me into oblivion. And then again when I blew my load inside her. I managed to pull another orgasm from her with my thumb rubbing her sweet spot, and cherished every whimper and sound she made as she reached her peak a moment later. She came hard all around me. My name on her lips as it happened was the best, though. Ethan . . .
When she collapsed on top of me, my cock was still in spasms, buried inside her deep, rocked by the convulsions as her inner muscles grabbed and pulled. I was certain I could stay inside her forever.
I held us together, never wanting to separate our bodies. We stayed out on the deck for a while. I just held her to me and rubbed up and down her spine with my fingertips. She nuzzled against my neck and chest, and felt very soft and warm despite it being night, and we were outside, and she was totally naked. I pulled the throw blanket off the other lounger and drew it around her.
For the first time I understood what people meant when they said they cried because they were so happy.
