Fighting: Fighting for Forever Part 12

"The lights on The Strip make the stars impossible to see, but up here, we get the un.o.bstructed view."

The dark sky is alight with billions of flickering stars, cl.u.s.ters of some that are lighter and darker, and a smattering of tiny ones that make up the Milky Way. We sit in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the view and the quiet company of each other.

I've been coming up here for a while, and after I found this clearing on a hike, I thought it would be the perfect place to come see the stars. I'd planned on bringing Eve, but after she made it clear she wanted Cameron, I decided she didn't deserve my sharing this with her. But Trix, she makes what is already beautiful absolutely breathtaking.

She lifts her hand and paints the sky with wide brushes of her fingers. "They almost seem so close you could touch them."

"You wanna touch one; just ask."

She giggles as her hand continues to swipe through the sky. "I do, can you get one down for me?"

"Your wish is my command, m'lady." I hold up my hands as if I'm aiming a shotgun, make the "cha-chic" sound of me c.o.c.king my rifle. "Look out. It's about to rain stars." I push an impressive explosion sound from my lips.

She laughs and s.h.i.+elds her face from the downpour of fake stars. "Oh here, let me get a few for you too." She holds up one delicate hand, three fingers tucked in, pointer out, thumb up. "Pitchu. Pitchu, pitchu, pitchu."

"What the f.u.c.k you shooting with? Peas?"

She shows me her gun hand. "Peas! I'll have you know this is a very powerful weapon."

I shake my head, fighting the urge to pull her on top of me and taste her lips. "I don't know. Sounded like a peashooter to me."

"It's not the size of the gun; it's how you use it." She shrugs.

"Is that right?"

"Um . . . no, actually." She grins wide and s.e.xy. "It's more about the size."

We laugh until humor fades into silence as we stare up into the sky.

"So, are you going to make out with me under the stars, or just make me lie here fantasizing about it."

My body springs up, and I rein in my l.u.s.t enough to slowly lean over and slide my knee between her legs rather than pouncing. "Fantasizing?" I rest my forehead against hers. "Tell me."

Her hands sift into my hair and grip. "Better, how about I show you?"

I tilt my head as she brings it down to hers, and I press into her full soft lips. My teeth rake against her bottom lip, requesting entrance. She grins and opens to me, allowing me to delve into the delicious cavern of her mouth. So slick, warm, and so f.u.c.king sweet. She moans and arches her back, pressing her chest into mine, searching for more contact. I slide my hand up under the flannel s.h.i.+rt and splay my hand on her belly.

I hear the sound of her bare feet hitting the tailgate, and then she s.h.i.+fts, pus.h.i.+ng herself back further into the truck bed and breaking our kiss. I look to see her b.r.e.a.s.t.s are now at my eyes. I trace the line of stomach, moving up and up until my fingertips. .h.i.t one pebbled nipple and . . . no bra.

"f.u.c.kin' h.e.l.l." My hips flex on instinct, pressing my hard-on into her leg, searching for the friction that will dull the ache.

Her legs snap together to lock around mine, and she s.h.i.+fts as if she's putting out a flame between her thighs. "You're teasing me." She reaches down and pulls up her tight little s.h.i.+rt to expose one plump breast. "Take it, please."

I drop my mouth to her and suck deep, rolling my tongue in slow torturous laps over the sensitive tip. I feel rather than see her hand move from her belly, lower, and lower until . . . I grasp her wrist just as her fingers dip between her legs. "No. That's mine."

What the f.u.c.k? That's mine?

I don't know where it came from, and I brace for her to unleash h.e.l.l on me for claiming her p.u.s.s.y as my own, but she shocks the h.e.l.l out of me and smiles. I push up and take her mouth in a deep kiss, using my tongue and teeth to pull greedily at her lips. I run my hand along her inner thigh, groaning into her mouth and drinking in her soft sigh when I hit the small piece of satin between her legs.

Her knees fall open, and I run the length of my finger up and down, up and down, over her panties, pressing in deeper with each pa.s.s. She rips her mouth from mine, sucking in quick pants of air.

Between her perfect b.r.e.a.s.t.s and her full suckable lips, I can't decide which one to hit first. Rather than drown in her taste, I watch her expression as I move her panties aside and dip my fingers into her body.

She cries out, and my jaw locks down, teeth gritting against the urge to pound my fingers between her legs until she screams my name. The visual of her writhing against me, grinding down on my hand and meeting my fingers thrust for thrust becomes too much.

I nip at her bare breast. "Other one."

She complies, popping the other breast free. I take turns lapping at her t.i.ts while finger f.u.c.king her so hard they jump in my mouth. "Mase . . . don't stop."

Mase. My eyes roll back in my head, and I suck her deeper into my throat.

She clenches down around my fingers, her heels to the tailgate, thrusting up hard enough that her a.s.s lifts off the bed while she chases down her release. My mouth waters, wanting to taste her and feel the flow of her o.r.g.a.s.m against my tongue, but I can tell I'm too late.

Her tiny body stiffens seconds before she detonates. I push back and watch her back arch, her hips lift into my hand, and her mouth open as a long moan falls from her lips. Her hands fist my s.h.i.+rt as she rides my fingers, milking every last bit of her o.r.g.a.s.m.

I rock my hips into her thigh, pretending we've just come together and mimicking the movement of a slow float back to earth. But every rub of my boxers against my d.i.c.k, every rasp of fabric against the tender flesh, propels me on.

She lies there, my fingers still knuckle deep inside her while I dry f.u.c.k her hip. I bend down, suck her t.i.t in my mouth and ride her harder.

"Don't stop." She rolls her hips on my fingers again, ready for more.

I growl, wanting release so badly it hurts, but more than that, wanting to taste her. As I slide my fingers from her body, she s.h.i.+vers.

I move from her breast with a wet pop of suction and kiss down her belly. Straddling her hips, I hook her under the arms and push her up further into the truck bed.

"Mason?"

"Shh . . . gotta taste you." Her skirt is around her waist, and I hook my fingers in her panties to pull them off.

"I . . . I can't." Her hands come to mine in what I a.s.sume to be her help. "Stop!"

I tear myself from her body at her command, my heart hammering in my chest. "What?" I blink away the fog of l.u.s.t and arousal. "Did I hurt you?"

She scoots back, covering her body with the flannel and sitting up. "I'm sorry. I can't let you do that."

If that isn't a cold f.u.c.king bucket of ice water to the nuts.

"That's okay." I take in a deep breath of mountain air and try to breathe through the disappointment. "I'm sorry. I'm moving too fast."

She avoids my eyes. "No, it's not that. I mean"-she shrugs-"I know what you're thinking, and you're partially right. I've never been one to say no to a hook up."

Anger flares quick and hot. "No, f.u.c.k no. I never thought that about you." Did I? Well, I don't anymore. Unless, is that all this is?

"It's okay if you did." She pulls a rubber band from her hair and shakes out her messy braid. "I'm not going to lie. I like using my body for pleasure, and I'm not above giving it just because I know I can."

I swallow back the sour taste her words evoke.

"But a girl has to draw the line somewhere, right?" An awkward giggle rumbles in her throat.

I sit with one a.s.s cheek to the tailgate and rub the back of my neck, trying to force blood back up and into my brain. "I don't understand."

"I've never had a man, um, go down."

"What?" No f.u.c.king way. Curiosity sizzles through my blood. "Never?"

"Nope." She dips her chin and twirls a long strand of her hair. "I know you probably don't believe me, and that's okay, but it's something I've been saving."

"For who?"

She cringes. "You'll think I'm stupid."

I angle more towards her, my fingers itching to comfort and erase her insecurity. "Not at all, but no s.h.i.+t, I'm curious as h.e.l.l."

"I was raised that a woman should save herself for her husband. Obviously, I messed that up, but I thought if I could save one thing for him, that would be it."

"Huh." I climb up into the truck bed and sit next to her. "So everything else-"

"I've done. Yeah." She picks at a loose thread on the b.u.t.ton of the flannel s.h.i.+rt.

"But never-?"

"No. Men only care about getting off, so it's never been a problem before." She shrugs.

"Sounds like you've been with the wrong men." My fists numb and my jaw aches.

She blinks up at me. "Stop staring at me like I've grown a second head."

I move my gaze from her, wondering what the h.e.l.l I must look like from her perspective and not wanting to make her ashamed or embarra.s.sed.

"What are you thinking?" She whispers and concern etches her question.

"I think"-I meet her stare-"you're pretty spectacular."

With the light from a billion stars, I watch her full lips pull into a grin. "You do?"

"Yeah, Trix, I do." The feel of her name from my lips is off now, like something has changed between us. She's no longer Trix the exotic dancer, but a girl, a woman who is saving a very intimate part of herself for only one man-one very f.u.c.king lucky man who will end up being her partner for life, protecting her, s.h.i.+elding her from heartbreak, cheris.h.i.+ng her love, and ensuring her happiness.

"Hey, can you tell me what your real name is?" I have to know. With every bit of my soul, I want to know who this woman is outside of the G-strings and stiletto heels.

Her face twists in confusion. "My real name?"

"I'm a.s.suming Trix is a made-up name, you know, to create and entice the fantasy."

She bites her lip, thinking. "Hmm. And what would you say is so enticing about the name Trix?"

Seems pretty obvious to me. She can't be clueless about it, but she wants to hear me say it. I'll play. "Trix is a sweet tasting cereal that melts in your mouth. It's like candy, sweet like you."

"Ah, aren't you the charmer." She holds up a finger. "I've also heard Trix implies I 'turn tricks,' like I'm a hooker."

I shrug one shoulder, ashamed to admit it, but . . . "Yeah, that too. Creating the fantasy."

She laughs and drops her chin. "If my dad hears this, he'll wish they'd renamed me," she mumbles.

"So, what's your real name?"

She peeks up at me and smiles. "Beatriks, with a 'k.' It's the Russian form of Beatrice."

"Your real name is Trix?"

"Yeah." She laughs, and the sound shoots straight to my groin.

"Wow." I study her: big eyes that, even though it's too dark to see, I know are blue with the slightest hint of lavender, full lips, and under all the blond and purple hair is a natural blond that I bet lightens bright white in the sun. "Beatriks."

"My brothers and sisters call me Bea, like bee-ah."

"Bea." I tuck a few loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "That's cute. I like it."

I like it. I like her, and f.u.c.k if all this information about her isn't making me even more curious.

Twelve.

Trix "Take your pick." Mason holds up a bag. "Peppered"-he holds up another bag-"or teriyaki."

"Hmm . . ." I'm sitting with my back leaning against the pick-up truck cab as I survey my options. "That depends. Are we going to be kissing again?"

He nods repeatedly, even closes his eyes for emphasis. "Oh yeah, there will be a lot of kissing, but"-he tosses me the peppered flavor jerky-"I can tell by the way you're eyeballin' this bag that you like it spicy, and lucky for you, I do to."

I pull out a long piece of smoked, dried meat. "You like spicy? Even secondhand?"

His eyes track to my mouth as I chew. "I'm willing to bet my life that with every taste, taking it from your mouth makes it sweeter."

"I guess we'll find out." I grin and toss the bag back to him, hitting him in the chest.

He rips out a couple pieces and then pushes in next to me. "So, tell me about your sister. Lana, was it?"

I cough on my food and reach for the bottled water that Mason handed me just before he busted out the jerky.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He pats my back a couple times while I slurp down gulps of cool water.

I clear my throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. I wasn't expecting such a serious question."

He turns his gaze upward, his head resting on the back window of the truck. "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure whether or not it was a sensitive issue."