Driving Whiskey Wild Page 12

  When he lowered his mouth over her breast and sucked, she cried out, “Ah! So good!” Her hips rose up, up, up, and when he sucked harder, she bucked and cried out again, her sex pulsing tight and hot around his fingers.

  “That’s it, baby. Jesus, fuck, you’re beautiful.”

  He reclaimed her mouth, circling her clit with this thumb, keeping her at the height of her orgasm. She whimpered and mewled, panting into his mouth. When another orgasm slammed into her, sending her into a wild, rocking frenzy, his name flew from her lips like a demand, again and again, until it was nothing but a whisper. And when she collapsed back to the chair and he withdrew from between her legs, she was shaking all over.

  He gathered her against him, kissing every spec of flesh he could reach.

  “Bullet,” she pleaded. “Good Lord. You were heaven sent.”

  “More like the devil. I’m thinking very sinful thoughts about you, lollipop.” He lowered his lips to hers. God, he loved her mouth.

  He drew back for only an instant, to look at her beautiful face, and then he returned to her delicious mouth, loving it thoroughly, pushing his tongue in and out, deep and insistent like he wanted to do with his cock. He cupped her jaw, holding her cheeks so he could feel their tongues moving inside. More sinful sounds bubbled up from inside her. He kissed his way down her body, slowing to love each breast with his hands and mouth. He wiped her arousal from his fingers on her nipple and licked it off, tantalizingly slowly, reveling in his first taste of her.

  “Bullet—” she said desperately.

  Good Lord, she was his undoing. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. Her hair was tousled around her trusting face. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, the purest, kindest, and perhaps one of the strongest women he’d ever known. He wanted to stay right there, loving her until the sun came up.

  But he knew he couldn’t, and because of that, he said, “Open your eyes, sweet girl.”

  FINLAY OPENED HER eyes, her body still tingling from head to toe. Bullet was looking at her with the most tortured, and somehow also contented, expression. He slid his tongue along her lower lip and drew up quickly, as if he wasn’t sure he should have done it. She couldn’t stifle another greedy noise from slipping from her lungs. She’d never felt so needy in all her life, but there was an energy, a hunger in Bullet that fed the empty parts of her. He was so visceral, so intense and closed off most of the time, but in the moments when those barriers lifted, he was warm and passionate. Tonight he’d allowed her to peek beneath his complex layers, deepening their connection well beyond the physical. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d revealed a side of himself that had been long ago sealed shut. And the more she learned about him, the more layers she peeled back, the more complex and real he became.

  He cradled her face between both hands and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Hi, beautiful.”

  “Hi.”

  “It’s nearing the witching hour, when guys like me turn into werewolves.”

  An uneasy feeling floated through her. “You’re leaving right now? Seconds after…?”

  “Not on your life,” he said in a raspy voice full of so much emotion it calmed the worry that had crept up on her.

  He kissed her neck and carefully hooked her bra and righted her sweatshirt, which was so unexpectedly sweet, it felt intimate and special. Then he gathered her in his strong arms, and she snuggled into the curve of his body, feeling safe, even though she didn’t really know where they were heading or what a night like this meant to a guy like him. For the first time since she’d been with Aaron, her heart was beating for something more than her job, and it felt too good to dissect the meaning of it.

  He tipped up her chin and pressed his lips to hers. “I just need to put on the brakes so that doesn’t happen.”

  “I didn’t know the Bullet train had brakes,” she teased.

  “That makes two of us,” he mumbled.

  A pang of discomfort trampled through her. “You mean you don’t ever stop before going all the way?”

  He kissed the top of her head, but no answer came. She pushed back so she could see his face, and wasn’t surprised to see his go-to serious expression. The one that told her—and everyone else—to back off. But they’d just been more intimate than she’d been with any other man in forever, and she didn’t feel comfortable backing off.

  “Seriously?”

  He sat up and said, “You don’t want to go there, Finlay.”

  “I shouldn’t want to go there, but I do.”

  “Why would you put yourself through that? Why does it fucking matter what I did with anyone else if I don’t do it with you?” He stood up, and his boots thumped across the deck as he paced, his massive frame looming in the darkness.

  She pushed to her feet, her mind spinning. Her cognitive brain knew it shouldn’t matter what he did with anyone else. They weren’t even a couple, but she wanted to know. Needed to know, needed to understand him.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I feel like I should understand what you’re usually like so I know if you’re different with me. I mean, you stopped, so that’s obviously epically different for you, right? But what about diseases?”

  “I don’t ride bareback, and I’ve never had a damn disease,” came barreling out of him. “I’ve got a handful of women I screw when the urge hits. They’re clean. They know me. They don’t give a shit if I leave afterward.” He threw his arms out to the sides, an annoyed expression on his face. “What else do you want to know? I don’t fuck them naked. I don’t even give a shit if they come. It’s quick and dirty.” He stared back at her, his jaw clenched tight. “It’s not like it is with you. Nothing in my life has been like it is with you. Not even close.”

  Finlay crossed her arms and sank back down to the chair, trying to grasp how she could be so attracted to a guy who could say, much less do, those things. A handful of women? Quick and dirty? “So, you use them?”

  He stopped pacing and shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “We use each other.”

  He let out a long, steady breath, watching her as she processed the information. His features softened as he knelt before her. “Finlay, nothing about me will fit the mold of who you see yourself with. We talked about this.”

  “I know, and I don’t really care about that, because when I’m with you, I want to be with you. But it’s one thing to think you’ve done those things and another to have confirmation. I don’t want to be a one-night stand, or one of the girls you use.”

  “Don’t even fucking say that.” His eyes narrowed angrily. “I’d never do that to you. I stopped before we went further. Doesn’t that tell you everything you need to know? Do you think I’m proud of the fact that I can’t have a normal relationship? That I can’t sleep without my fucking dog for fear of nightmares? That it took every ounce of strength I had not to walk away instead of coming over to apologize to you?”

  “You can’t sleep without Tinkerbell?” Oh, how he made her heart hurt.

  “Tink can’t sleep without me, either. She’ll be clawing at the window whining until I get home.” He huffed out a laugh. “She hasn’t slept alone since I found her. Some asshole threw her out of his car with a load of trash on the highway. She was in a green garbage bag, rail-thin, scared to death. I took her directly to my buddy, a vet and a member of our club, and spent weeks nursing her back to health. She’s been by my side ever since. She gets me. On the rare occasion when I have a nightmare, she wakes me up before it pulls me too far under.”

  Finlay swelled with love for both of them. It was no wonder he didn’t want to leave her.

  “We’re both messed up,” he said, “but we work. I need her and she needs me.”

  The love in his eyes was tangible. “And you debated not coming over at all? Just leaving me hanging?”

  He took her hand in his, his gaze as apologetic as it was honest. “I debated saving you the grief of having a guy like me in your life. I was coming down from
major flashbacks. That scene unearthed all sorts of shit. Fin, everyone’s got baggage, and I know I’ve got a whole cargo load of it. I know what I am, and I’m not ashamed of it. I’m a survivor. My life is what it has had to be in order for me to make it through each day. I’m good at protecting others. I suck at”—he lifted their joint hands—“this. Even as a kid I didn’t go on dates. I’d nod at a girl and we’d hook up. That’s all I’ve ever known or wanted. And then you came into my life like a star falling from the night sky, and all I wanted was to catch you.”

  His honesty was like a drug, soothing the harshness of his confession. “It was all physical at first,” she reminded him.

  “Absolutely. You’re gorgeous.”

  “So if I had accepted a ride on the Bullet train, that would have been it?” The thought made her uneasy.

  “We’ll never know for sure, but I can’t believe for a second that I would have fu—gone through with it, or that I would have let you walk away afterward. Not if we had spent ten minutes having a real conversation. You’re too special. You said there was a difference between surviving and living, and I know you’re right. It’s evident in who you are and how you live your life. When I’m around you, you lift me up, make me see and feel. Because of who you are and who I want to be for you, I brought you flowers from my garden, showered, and shaved before our date—”

  She glanced at his beard. “Shaved?”

  He looked down at his privates.

  “Oh my gosh. You did think we’d sleep together!” As she said it she realized she’d been thinking about what he’d be like in bed for far longer than just one day.

  “I don’t recall saying real men shaved for sex.”

  She gasped. “You thought I’d…on the first date? I mean, I let you touch me, and I’ve never done that on a first date before, but I wouldn’t have…” Would I? Oh gosh! I might have!

  His brows lifted, and they both laughed softly.

  “Clearly whatever this is between us is new and different for both of us,” he said, a spark of hope glimmering in his eyes. “I just found you, Finlay. Please don’t let my messed-up life scare you away. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I don’t want to just survive. I want to live.”

  “Bullet,” she said breathlessly, trying to solidify her melting heart. “I haven’t been really living either. I know it looks like I am, but I didn’t move back only because I missed Penny. I moved back because I was lonely. I tried to feel something toward a man after Aaron died. I went out on a few dates and I tried to be intimate, but I was too broken to feel anything, even as recently as last winter. I moved back home because I figured I might not be able to love or be loved by a man, but at least I could love and be loved by Penny. And sisterly love is better than no love at all.”

  “That breaks my heart. You’re too sweet to be alone forever.”

  “But I felt something tonight,” she admitted. “I felt a lot. So much, it’s a little scary.”

  “Don’t be scared. Just be with me. Give us a chance.”

  She wanted that now more than ever, despite their differences. She’d never met anyone as honest, or as selfless, but at the end of the day, there was a certain level of respect she needed from others, and for herself. She gathered her courage like a cloak and said, “I can’t if you’re going to be with other women. I don’t have it in me to share you. Protecting others is one thing, but giving your body to them is another.”

  “I won’t share you,” he said with the demanding tone that for some crazy reason endeared her toward him. “And I’d never expect you to share me.”

  “Okay.”

  His breath rushed from his lungs with a long, “Ah, lollipop,” as he hauled her onto his lap and kissed her breathless.

  “Tomorrow,” he said against her neck, “I’m making up for tonight and taking you out on a proper date.”

  “You are?” She couldn’t wait to see him again.

  “What are your plans during the day? I have to work at four, and I want to stop by the hospital in the morning and see how the Beckleys are doing, but I could pick you up afterward.”

  Her heart filled at his thoughtfulness. “How about you pick me up in the morning and I’ll go with you? I have to order the appliances for the bar, and I was going to work on the menus, but I can do that after four, when you’re at work. I think I’ll also bring some of the goodies I made tonight to the bar. The customers really liked the cookies.”

  “Just what I need, more guys going apeshit over your goodies.” He groaned, smiling, though she was pretty sure he wasn’t teasing. Then his tone turned serious again, and he said, “But you don’t need to be around that sad stuff in the hospital. I’ll swing by afterward.”

  She wound her arms around his neck and said, “Mr. Whiskey, let me give you a little lesson in relationships. It’s okay to let people who care about you be there for you. That’s how coupledom works. You might not need me there, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to be there anyway. Just in case you need a hug, because even big, tough protectors need hugs sometimes.”

  “What if I need to be kissed?” His eyes smoldered, and he pressed his lips to her neck.

  Shivers ticked over her skin. “Mm. That could be arranged.”

  “And touched?” He nipped at her jaw.

  “Maybe in private,” she said coyly.

  He brushed his lips over hers and said, “Ah, so you do want to touch my privates.”

  Chapter Nine

  FOR THE SECOND time in less than twenty-four hours, Bullet found himself sitting in front of Finlay’s house in his truck with a handful of flowers from his garden. Only this time there wasn’t a damn thing that could make him contemplate walking away. And just to be sure, last night he’d called Bones to talk about the flashbacks he’d had when he’d been dealing with the accident. Bones had reminded him of what he’d learned from his buddy, the therapist. And now, as he cut the engine, he was on the phone with his younger brother again. Bones had called to make sure he was still cool.

  “I’m good, buddy. I’m sorry I called at such a crazy hour last night.”

  Bones was fifteen months younger than Bullet, and to an observer they were about as different as two brothers could be. Not only was Bones a clean-cut professional to Bullet’s scruffy appearance and blue-collar job, but he also kept his ink carefully hidden from the eyes of his patients and peers, limiting his tats to his shoulders, torso, and above the knee, while Bullet’s body was a testament to all the hell he’d seen. But while they looked and acted different, the foundation of what they believed in and the creed by which they lived were the same.

  “No worries,” Bones said. “I was just getting in from a party out in Pleasant Hill. I know last night you said you didn’t want to talk about Finlay, but B, if you’re going to be with her, you’ve got to clue her in about your past.”

  “Dude, she’s more clued in than you are now,” Bullet admitted.

  “This is me you’re talking to, B. Just tell me to shut my mouth. Don’t give me a load of horseshit.”

  Bullet glanced up at Finlay’s house, his chest constricting with the memory of her expression when she’d seen his body and the hurt and confusion in her voice when he’d been honest about his personal life. “It’s true, bro. I have no idea what compelled me to be honest with her about all the shit in my head, but she didn’t run, and she didn’t tell me I was too fucked up for her.”

  Bones was quiet for a beat too long.

  “Spit it out, Bones,” Bullet said angrily. “You think when I go to pick her up today she’ll blow me off now that she’s had time to think about it?” He’d been worrying about the same thing since he’d gotten up that morning.

  “No, man. Just the opposite. You’ve never let anyone into your head. Hell, B, it took you almost dying to reach out to me, and you still haven’t come clean to the rest of the family about what really happened with your medical discharge.”

  Bullet mindlessly rubbed his hand over hi
s chest and side, where scars marked the end of his military career. “Your point?”

  “My point is, you must feel a hell of a lot for Finlay for you to let her in. You’re an incredibly smart, capable, bighearted guy, and it sounds like you found someone who sees those qualities in you, the way the rest of us do.”

  “You make me sound like a pussy.”

  “No. I just make you sound human, and you hate that.” Bones laughed and added, “What are you going to do about the whole sleeping with Tink thing?”

  Last night Tinkerbell had been a whiny mess of love when Bullet had gotten home, and he’d taken her for a long walk around his property while he’d talked with Bones on the phone. “Tink is as much a part of my life as you are. She’s not going anywhere.”

  “That’s no answer.”

  Bullet laughed. Leave it to his younger brother to push him into a corner. But this was a corner Bullet was ready for. “Well, she doesn’t know it yet, but I plan to bring Fin home with me this afternoon to get to know Tink. I figure she’s not terrified of dogs, since she could sit in the truck and sing herself silly with Tink in the backseat. She’s scared, and if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s ease into something that scares you.”

  “Good luck with that. Maybe you can go to joint therapy—you for your flashbacks and nightmares and Finlay for her fear of dogs.”

  “Fuck you,” Bullet said with a smile. “If we’re going, then so are you.”

  “For…?”

  “Needing to go out of town to find a woman to fuck.” While Bullet had a host of women he could call day or night and never cared who knew it—until now—Bones was discreet with his extracurricular activities. As a well-respected oncologist, Bullet knew he had to be, but that didn’t stop him from giving his brother shit.

  “Asshole.”