Off Limits(136)
Kade paused, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at me. “Alix?”
“Go on. I trust you.”
Kade slowed and pulled back, letting me adjust, then pushed forward again in slow, tiny little thrusts. I held on, my hands balling into the comforter underneath me, and I forced myself to look Kade in the eye. He was studying me intently, his eyes filled with love, concern, and yes, lust. He was pushing me, watching me ride the line truly for the first time.
As he did, the pain didn’t quite go away, but instead changed in flavor. I welcomed it, stopped fighting it, and let it come over me. Behind it I could sense the pleasure chasing after it, slower but deeper, more powerful, like the old story of the tortoise and the hare.
I’d never in my life to that point felt more accomplishment than when Kade’s hips nestled against mine, and his balls rested on my ass. Without a word, Kade pulled back, slowly pushing forward again, my ass loosening as the pain retreated, exhausted under the loving strokes of my Kade, unable to resist his will and mine. Instead, the pleasure grew within me, joining with my pride to propel me higher and higher.
Kade kept riding that line with me, his thrusts speeding up as the pain diminished and my pleasure grew. Soon, all I could feel was pleasure and the love in Kade’s eyes as he thrust in and out of my ass. I was building to another orgasm, and I could tell from the way he was shaking that he was closing in too. “Please, Kade, give it to me.”
“After you come,” he said, smiling. “I love you.”
We went faster and faster, our bodies joining in a way no other man ever had. When my ass tightened, I knew I could hold back no longer. “Kade, I’m coming!”
It was like Rita had promised. Riding the line, my body exploded, shaking and losing control. My fists beat at the bed spread and my head threw back, my throat working to find air but unable to draw breath. The sound of Kade grunting and coming sent me the rest of the way, cascading into unconsciousness, warm and secure.
Chapter 29
Kade
The next morning, I had to grin at Vince when I dropped Alix off with Rita at her apartment in Torrance. “You look like something the cat dragged in,” I said as he gingerly got behind the wheel. “And yet you also look like you’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“Yeah,” Vince said quietly. “In a heartbeat.”
We drove in silence toward Ventura County. “Where are we meeting these guys?” I asked.
“Near the Long Beach pier,” Vince said. “Kade, about last night, Rita told me . . . ”
“Forget it. Rita and I are done. Not that we ever had anything to begin with.”
Vince nodded, and for the rest of the drive, we specifically avoided either the subject of his budding relationship with Rita or the people we were going to meet. I was nervous enough with Vince’s idea without having to discuss the damn thing to death.
Calling it the Long Beach Pier is a bit of a misnomer. The entire Long Beach Port is pretty big. Cruise ships dock there all the time, so it isn’t like the other piers that dot the Los Angeles area coastline, simple things that jut into the water. Instead, it’s a true shipping complex, but there is one area, off Pier J, that has a fishing spot. This is where Vince and I went. It’s actually pretty ugly, very industrial with nothing but asphalt and steel around you, the air thick with the combined stench of burning fuels and the not so clean parts of the ocean. Why anyone would choose to fish there I have no idea.
Vince’s connections were waiting for us, approaching us as we got out. “You’re Vince?” one of the men, who looked a bit long-haired but other than that normal, said.
“Yeah. This is my associate,” Vince said. “Thanks for meeting with us.”
“No problem. Nice to meet you, Mister Prescott.” Before I could react, the man held up his hands in a show of peace. “Hey, you’re a famous face these days. It doesn’t have any bearing on what we’re going to discuss today.”
I nodded, and the man turned. He had two other men with them, much rougher looking characters who looked uncomfortable in their work pants and polo shirts. They looked like people pretending to be middle class guys out to fish, if anything. “Come with me, please. We chartered a boat for the next three hours.”
It made sense. In three hours, we could go beyond the twelve mile legal limit of US jurisdiction, discuss whatever we wanted, and then come back. Of course, as a lawyer I knew that such ideas were more or less a legal fiction, but if it made the men feel more comfortable, I wasn’t going to object.
The boat was actually kind of nice, a thirty-five foot cabin cruiser equipped with fishing gear and even a lightly stocked galley, complete with snacks. “Have you ever been out on the ocean before?” the first man, who seemed to be the leader of the group, asked. The other two men had taken over operating the cruiser, one steering while the other worked on preparing the fishing gear. “I try to get out at least three or four times a year.”
“It’s been a while, but I used to surf. And yeah, I’ve been out some,” I said, not mentioning the time Dad had booked a summer vacation cruise around Baja, California. Two weeks of private use of a yacht, complete with a crew to man it. As I was fifteen at the time, just coming into my own as a teenager, it was quite a memorable experience, stopping in little port towns and then being gone the next day.