Featuring lyrics from the songs: right where you left me, willow, august and invisible string by Taylor Swift.
After our little chat, Vaughn walked me to my car with a promise to look into Jeanne Ellen and get back to me as soon as possible. A look of worry crossed his face briefly when I mentioned I was one of Jeanne Ellen's targets. Thankfully he didn't ask for any details. I didn't feel like explaining how there came to be a video of Ranger and I having sex in a parking lot, much less that she was blackmailing him with it. Afterwards though, he seemed a little protective. I'd spent enough time with Ranger and the Merry Men to recognize when they were in bodyguard move, subtly scanning for threats and shielding my body from view when possible. He opened my door for me and gave me a long look before saying, "I like you. You're cute, smart, and funny." His smile faded a bit. "And if we both weren't in love with someone else, I might do something about it." Before I could respond, he kissed me on the forehead, turned, and walked away. Okay then. I shook my head and locked that exchange into the 'think about it later' part of my brain, filing it in the much, much later folder. Men, yeesh, like I didn't already have enough on my mind.
I thought briefly about stopping at the grocery store or for takeout, but I was too exhausted and just wanted to go home. Considering I'd been able to get out some of my frustration and anger, do some thinking, and take a step towards getting to the bottom of whatever Jeanne Ellen was up to, I considered my afternoon a success. Was there still a recording out there of Ranger and me having sex up against his car in the parking lot of a seedy bar? Yes. Did that still scare the shit out of me? Also yes. Was I deathly afraid that if Ranger didn't do what she wanted, Jeanne Ellen would release it to embarrass me and make my life hell? Fuck yes. Was I still hurt and angry that Ranger had chosen to keep this a secret from me? Absofuckinglutely.
But, I'd taken the time and space I needed and felt like I had a little breathing room and no longer felt like my head might explode. I recognized that this was progress for me. Old Stephanie would have either stayed at the apartment and started a fight with Ranger, playing the blame game, insisting none of it was my fault. While the recording wasn't my fault, or his, we'd both pushed each other that night, refusing to back down, allowing things to escalate to the point where we were fucking, up against his car, in public. The other option Old Stephanie might have chosen would've been just straight-up running and sticking my head in the sand, pretending it didn't happen, and checking into Denial Land. Considering Ranger was in my apartment, running would have been nearly impossible and that would have made me feel trapped, and I would have lashed out even more. This was a big deal for me, and I took a minute to appreciate the growth I'd made. I was proud of myself. I made a mental note to mention it to Handsome Handsome Nick at my next appointment. He always stressed the fact that while changing my habits would be a long process and there would be setbacks, it was important to celebrate even the smallest of victories.
The drive passed quickly, and before I knew it, I was in my parking lot. I grabbed my purse and gym bag and made my way up to my apartment. While I was still anxious about the whole Jeanne Ellen situation and frustrated with Ranger for once again keeping something from me, I couldn't deny that there was a feeling of warmth that spread through me, knowing that he was inside, waiting for me. A little voice in my head told me feelings like that were dangerous and unrealistic. But since I'd shown so much maturity earlier, I allowed myself this tiny bit of denial, like a treat for my good behavior, and let myself pretend this was my reality.
I half expected Ranger to be standing in the entryway, right where I left him, but there was no one. Jessica Fletcher didn't even come to greet me. The apartment was quiet, and I briefly panicked, thinking maybe he'd left, but his things were still by the door, mixed in with mine. The sight made my tummy flutter. Pushing the feeling aside, I rehung my own things and slipped off my shoes.
Padding into the living room, I stopped short at the sight that greeted me. My heart melted, and I barely contained the awww that wanted to escape. Ranger was laid out on the couch, sound asleep, Jessica Fletcher curled up on his chest, her head tucked under his chin. One of his hands was settled on her back like he'd been petting her when he fell asleep. The scene was so adorable, so domestic, and so not Ranger. I pulled out my phone and took a picture.
"Don't even think about sending that to Tank." His deep, rumbly, sleep-edged voice warned me. I didn't even startle, knowing him like I did; I figured he'd woken up the moment I inserted my key in the lock. Years of training had made him vigilant, and probably saved his life and mine on more than one occasion. The fact that he'd heard me arrive, but remained where he was and allowed me to witness this sweet scene caused the warm feelings to return, and as long as we were inside these four walls, I was going to allow myself to just enjoy them.
He turned towards me, opening one eye as his hand on the cat flexed, and he started petting her again, almost absentmindedly. I grinned at him. "You don't snuggle with Tank's cats?" He tried to look stern, but the fact that some of his hair was sticking up as a result of his napping ruined the effect.
"No. I don't snuggle Tank's cats. You…" He stopped for a minute, glancing down at Jessica Fletcher. "And apparently, your cat, are the only ones I snuggle." The cat in question perked up at the sound of his voice. She began purring loudly and rubbing her face against Ranger's chin in that way cats do, leaving her scent on him and laying claim. I understood the impulse and giggled at the confused look that crossed Ranger's face, not sure what to make of her actions.
"I think she likes you." My grin widened.
He smiled at my words, and then a look of worry replaced it. "Right now, I'm a little more concerned about whether her owner still likes me." His guilt was back, and I sighed, knowing the sweet moment was over, and we were returning to our real-world problems.
I crossed to him and sat on the edge of the coffee table. Noticing me for the first time, hopping off the couch, Jessica Fletcher began her pre-dinner ritual; Ranger letting out a little oof at the pressure of her dismount. She started meowing loudly, rubbing against my legs. When I didn't stand immediately, she bit me on the ankle.
"Shit. Alright, I'm coming." Ranger chuckled as I rubbed the sore spot before following her into the kitchen. I made quick work of feeding The Queen, not wanting to be further reprimanded. I knew the second reminder wouldn't be a quick nip. She'd sink her teeth into my skin and hold on, rolling her eyes up to give me a death glare that would rival any woman in the Burg.
As much as I would have liked to hide out in the kitchen, I knew Ranger and I had more to discuss. The thought made me reflect on just how much we'd talked about over the past twenty-four hours. I knew it wasn't his way, something he enjoyed, and I took time to appreciate it. Not only was he making the effort to communicate, but the topics were things that weren't easy for him. I tried to keep that in mind as I returned to the living room.
Ranger was sitting up now, an anxious look on his face, his hair disheveled and sticking up in several places due to him running his hands through it and pulling at it like he did when he was frustrated. My heart melted a bit and when he held his hand out to me, I didn't hesitate to take it and allow him to pull me down to sit in his lap. He let out a small sigh of relief and I felt him relax a bit. My body did the same, and we sat together in silence for a few minutes before my stomach let its demands be known, sounding as angry as my cat had been. Ranger's chest rumbled in silent laughter and he gave me a squeeze. "I ordered dinner right before you got here. Thai food. It should be here soon." My stomach gurgled again, this time in approval.
"Thank you. My mother would be horrified at my lack of hostess skills. First I walked out, leaving you alone in my apartment, and didn't make a dinner plan, much less cook for you, and left you to fend for yourself." Not that I gave a fuck about Burg rules of etiquette, but I did feel bad for leaving him here so abruptly.
He insisted, "Babe, I showed up unannounced and have monopolized the last twenty-four hours of your life, not once asking if you had something going on that I'd interrupted." If only he knew how much I wanted him to wreck my plans, to be my man. I'd cancel my plans just in case he called. "What's worse is I never even considered it, not even when a CIA agent showed up with your breakfast. It wasn't until your friend Abigail came by earlier that I realized you have a life here, and I just barged in and demanded all of your attention. I'm such a selfish bastard." Midway through his admission, he'd turned his head, staring across the room, rather than looking at me. I'd never heard him talk about himself like this. It was like the last 24 hours, maybe the last year and a half had changed him, chipped away at his confidence. I didn't like it.
I cupped his jaw, turning his head so his eyes were forced to meet mine. "Hey, don't do that. The things we needed to talk about were important, the other stuff in my life can wait." While not an emergency, his visit was urgent, and I bore part of the blame for the mix-ups. "I should have been better about communicating with Vaughn and Abigail. It's just…" I trailed off, not knowing exactly how to explain it. I also wasn't sure if I wanted to admit to him what simply being in his presence did to me.
"Just what?" He asked, gently pressing the issue.
What the hell, it's not like he didn't already know; this was Ranger, he knew everything. I took a deep breath. "When I'm with you, when it's just us, it's all-consuming, everything else falls away, the real world ceases to exist; being with you is the only thing that matters." Jesus, this was embarrassing. I sounded pathetic. I looked away.
He was silent for a minute, then said quietly, "I know."
He knows? Of course he does. He knows how pathetic I am, that I'd give up anything, sacrifice everything, just to be with him, so unable to control myself that I had to move across the country to try and preserve some sense of dignity. I moved to get up, get away from him, but he held tight.
His voice was so low that I almost didn't hear it. "I know because it's the same for me." My head snapped back to him, not believing my ears, but I could see the sincerity in his eyes. He cupped my jaw in his hand, using his thumb to stroke my cheek. "For a man like me, that's a dangerous thing."
I wanted to get angry, be insulted, and lash out at him. While I was shocked at his admission, that I wasn't alone in being affected by what was between us, I couldn't ignore the truth of his words. Ranger led a dangerous life; distractions could be costly, just look at our current situation. Because of the effect we had on each other, all rational thought had gone out the window, and we'd been so lost in the heat and emotion of it all, and given into our urges and now there was a recording of the two of us having sex in public.
Ignoring the elephant his words had ushered into the room, I refocused on the problem at hand, not wanting to hear him explain this was another reason he couldn't have or didn't want a relationship with me. Before I could say anything, the doorbell rang and my tummy rumbled in response.
"I'll get it," I offered, standing, grateful for the interruption. I grabbed some cash from my wallet before answering the door, tipped the guy, and set the food on the breakfast bar before pulling out plates and silverware. I didn't even hesitate to grab a bottle of wine and some glasses. By the time I had it opened and poured, Ranger had our food plated. We sat quietly side by side as we ate, the only sounds were the happy noises I made as I enjoyed my pad thai. Somehow he'd managed to order my favorite dish, from my favorite Thai restaurant, but that was just part of the magic that was Ranger. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, or tense, but we both knew we had things to discuss, things that weren't dinner conversations, things that were important.
When I moved to clear our plates, Ranger stopped me. "I've got this." It was nice, if a bit weird because I was used to doing everything myself. But, if the man wanted to do my dishes, that was fine with me. Hell, I'd happily show him where the vacuum was and the caddy of supplies for cleaning the bathroom. If he was going to do the dishes, I'd take the opportunity to clean up and put on some PJs. I'd rinsed off at the gym after my workout, but I needed a proper shower and to wash my hair. I tamped down the warm fuzzies I got at the domesticity of it all.
I gave his arm a squeeze. "Thanks."
Making my way to my bathroom, I stripped down and hopped in the shower. The workout had felt good, but the anger fueling it had caused me to push my limits, and my body was letting me know exactly how it felt about that. I let the hot water soothe my sore muscles, even taking time to turn the nozzle to the massage setting, this time for its intended purpose. I blushed, thinking of the sexy man in my kitchen and the memories and fantasies that usually accompanied my use of this feature. While my dreams of him of late had been off-the-charts intense, they'd truthfully just escalated from what they'd been ever since our first night together, actually, even before that, since the first time he kissed me in my parking lot. It was after I'd allowed his BMW to be stolen, one of the first mishaps in a long line of disasters that had sent more than a few of his vehicles to car heaven.
Since that moment, when he moved from crazed mercenary to potential boyfriend in my mind, he'd been it for me. While I was awake, I could work on keeping thoughts of him at bay with varying rates of success, but at night my subconscious was completely consumed with him, giving him the starring role in all of my dreams. Not to mention every single session with my shower massager, or one of the colorful, ever-expanding drawer full of electronic devices in my bedside table. While thoughts of him never failed to get me off, the experience paled in comparison to the real thing. The intensity of this gaze, his touch, his lips on mine, and the feeling of him sliding inside me, simultaneously evoking a feeling of being struck by lightning and a sense of peace all at the same time. Even when I was with Morelli, and in the year I'd gone without even laying eyes on him, without having any contact at all, even when I didn't want him to be, he was always there waiting for me, haunting me as I closed my eyes.
As my mind wandered, so did my hands. Without conscious thought, they were roaming over my soapy, slick skin. When I realized what I was doing, I momentarily thought about finishing the job, then stopped, remembering Ranger was just a room away. Briefly, I considered inviting him to join me when thoughts of the existence of a recording of us doing just what I wanted to do, and that it was in Jeanne Ellen's possession, popped into my head. It had the same effect as being doused with a bucket of cold water. I quickly rinsed off and performed my nightly routine of moisturizing, both my skin and my hair. Slipping on another set of PJ shorts and a top, I returned to the living room to continue the discussion we had paused for dinner.
I found Ranger on one end of the couch, having a stare-down with Jessica Fletcher, who was occupying the other end. She looked pissed off, he appeared to be the same. I tried to stifle a laugh at the absurd sight, but was unsuccessful.
"What's going on here?" I asked. Ranger gave the cat a dirty look before holding his hand out to me, pulling me down to sit between the two of them.
He explained, like it was completely logical to be locked in a stare-down with a cat. "She's mad at me." I resisted the urge to say, duh. He reached forward, grabbed the ice cream and spoon I hadn't noticed were sitting on the coffee table, and handed them to me. "She wanted your ice cream." He turned the carton so I could see the teeth marks on the edge of the lid. I giggled, amused, but not surprised.
I scolded her Highness, "You can't have ice cream, you silly goose; you're lactose intolerant and we both know how that ends." I wrinkled my nose at the memory of the mess I'd had to clean up when she'd helped herself to the milk left in my cereal bowl. I took the ice cream and spoon from Ranger before opening up the drawer in the coffee table and pulling out the little crocheted sleeve I'd made that fit perfectly around my Jeni's ice cream pint.
"What is that?" Ranger asked, confused.
I was very proud of this particular project, it had been the first crocheted item that I'd been able to make without having to un-stitch at all. I held it up to show him, "It's like a can koozie, but for my ice cream. It keeps my hand from freezing while I eat." He just chuckled and shook his head. I knew I was amusing him, but this time I didn't mind. It was a welcome distraction from the serious topics that awaited our attention. I knew I'd depleted my supply of ice cream in the freezer, so I asked, "Where did the ice cream come from?" I moaned as the perfect flavor of the Boston Cream Pie custard hit my tongue.
He cleared his throat. "Your friend, Abigail." I'd completely forgotten about her text and her meeting Ranger. I'd been so worked up over the video and Jeanne Ellen at the time I hadn't properly contemplated what that meeting must have been like. I'd never thought, in a million years, the two of them would cross paths. Because of that, I'd felt comfortable sharing everything about Ranger and our sordid past with her. Everything. Ranger was a private man; I was sure he wouldn't be happy about me blabbing such personal information with another person. I'd never done it with anyone back in Trenton–not Mary Lou, not Connie or Lula. I'd never discussed anything with any of the Merry Men, either. The closest I'd ever come was the conversations I'd had with my dad when I was home for the holidays. Telling anyone back home about us would have felt like a betrayal to him, so I kept it all inside–the good, the bad, and the ugly. The first year I'd been in California too, but after everything I'd realized on my trip home and the time we'd spent together, I needed someone to confide in. My friendship with Abigail had been a godsend. Even now that I had Handsome Handsome Nick to help sort my life out, Abigail was the one I could share everything with.
I squashed the anxiety that welled up at the thought of her meeting the man she'd heard so much about. I tried for nonchalant, like I'd ever managed to be nonchalant my whole life. If anything, I was extrachalant. "Oh, that's right, I forgot she'd texted me that she'd stopped by." I wasn't going to ask him for any details about their interaction. Abigail would describe it so vividly over coffee on Monday morning that it'd be like I saw it all with my own eyes. Instead, I just concentrated on my ice cream.
His voice sounded odd. "She said she was worried since she hadn't heard from you." I just nodded and kept shoveling in the deliciousness. Hesitantly, he added, "She seemed to know who I was." It sounded sort of like a question, but he didn't wait for an answer. "After she got over the shock of finding me here and not you, she put the ice cream in the freezer and then stared at me for a while. She looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to interrogate me or knee me in the balls." I choked on the bite of ice cream I was trying to swallow as I pictured the scene he was describing. It sounded pretty accurate. Abigail was small, but mighty and was fiercely protective of those she cared about. Even though she wasn't a trained agent, she could hold her own in a fight. She'd been a self-defense instructor in college, working for a campus sexual assault support program. Even at five foot two, and one hundred twenty pounds, she'd probably win any fight she was in, because she had pure unadulterated rage on the side.
Ranger patted me on the back as I sputtered, then handed me the bottle of water he'd brought out along with the ice cream. I took a drink before setting both the ice cream and water back on the table. Reluctantly, I offered, "Um, yeah, I've mentioned you to her a few times."
"Babe." He knew I was lying.
I kept my eyes on my lap, and it all came out in a rush. "Okay, more than mentioned. I've told her everything. I know you're very private, but I'd kept everything inside for so long, and I needed someone to talk to. She's my best friend here." When I spoke the last part, I recognized the truth in my words. I loved Abigail, and she was my closest friend now. But even with everything that had gone down between us, the fights, the distance, I didn't think I'd ever have another best friend other than the man sitting beside me.
"Babe." This time his voice was softer. When I didn't look up at him, he picked me up and settled me on his lap. Taking my face in his hands, he gave me no other option but to meet his eyes with my own. "I'm glad you've had a good friend to talk to." Relief flooded my body. He wasn't angry. He did quirk an eyebrow and ask for clarification, "Everything?"
I bit my lip as my nerves returned and nodded. "Um, yeah. Everything, uh, in great detail." Both of his eyebrows rose at my words. I quickly added, "In my defense, she was like a pit bull!" His mouth turned up at the corners. I justified my actions, "And I didn't think she'd ever meet you!"
His smile disappeared. His voice was so low, I could barely hear him when he said, "I'm sorry." He didn't specify what he was sorry for, but I knew just the same. He was sorry for the choices he'd made, for the fights, the distance, for not being there for me.
I held his gaze and whispered, "Me too." Slowly he lowered his head, bringing his lips to mine, the kiss soft and tender. Pulling back, he just held me to him and I enjoyed the feeling of simply being in his arms. I refused to think about the fact that while he'd apologized, he hadn't made any mention of changing his mind and putting both of us out of our misery.
The silence was interrupted when I heard a clatter as my spoon fell from the coffee table to the floor. Jessica Fletcher's attempt at stealth failed miserably as she tried to help herself to my forgotten treat. "Oh no, you don't!" I hopped up, snatching the ice cream and spoon. Walking swiftly to the kitchen, I dropped the spoon into the sink, popped the lid back on the ice cream, and put it back in the freezer. Wow. Abigail had been really worried about me. In addition to the Boston Crème Pie, five more pints of Jeni's were stacked neatly inside, including three more of my favorites, Gooey Butter Cake, Powdered Jelly Donut, and Texas Sheet Cake. There were two of her favorites as well, Goat Cheese With Red Cherries, which I secretly loved as well, but refused to admit to her, and Green Smoothie, which I absolutely refused to try, but I bet Ranger might actually eat.
The Queen herself was at my feet, meowing loudly, bitching at me for foiling her plans. I reached into the upper cabinet for a couple of treats to appease her. She gave my pinky finger a nip, just to let me know I was not forgiven, but that she would accept my peace offering. She snatched both treats from my hand, holding them in her mouth, before nudging open the cabinet door to her sanctuary and climbing in to enjoy her dessert in peace. "You're lucky l love you, Miss Piggy," I muttered as I washed my hands.
When I returned to the living room I found that Ranger had turned his back to the arm of the couch, his long legs stretching the length of it. He held his hand out to me again, and pulled me down, settling me between his legs, my back to his front. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he gave me a squeeze. I leaned back into his embrace and felt him sigh in contentment.
Ready to get on with it, I asked, "So what is it? It must be bad if you fed me ice cream." While we'd both apologized, we hadn't broached the topic of what the future held for us. I thought it was best to focus on the most recent and pressing issue. He sighed again, but this time it was in resignation.
"I'm sorry about the video. For not telling you, for putting you in this position, for letting my guard down, for it to have even been taken in the first place." He was being sincere, his voice full of remorse. "When I got the email, I was still struggling with you being gone. I was miserable, not knowing anything about your life, not being able to see you, or able to protect you if you needed it." I knew how hard the first few months here had been for me; I'd been so angry with him at the time, that I never stopped to think about how it had been for him. He sounded disgusted with himself as he continued, "I was already a huge fucking asshole to everyone, but the video sent me over the edge." He stopped, like he wasn't sure he wanted to continue, but eventually did. "I flew into a rage. Destroyed almost everything in my office. Tank finally had to get Cal to help restrain me. Fucker threatened to have Bobby sedate me if I didn't stop struggling." Holy shit. I guess my reaction to the news of the sex tape was pretty tame in comparison. Maybe it was best I didn't know about it back then.
"I didn't know who sent it, or who'd taken it, so I kept watching it, over and over again, looking for some clue." Thinking about him watching us together, on repeat, sent a thrill through me. I probably should be focused more on what to do about stopping the release of the video than imagining its effect on Ranger. But pressed up against him the way I was, I could feel it affecting him too. His voice changed, the disgust replaced with desire. "I felt like such an asshole, but I couldn't stop. Long after I'd given up hope of finding any evidence, I kept watching. It felt so good to be able to lay eyes on you, to remember how it felt to be with you, inside you." His hands started to move, roaming over my body, one traveling down my hip, to the outside of my thigh, the other up to my breast, cupping it and teasing my nipple through the thin knit of my pajama top. His voice turned deep, thick with desire "Fuck, seeing you like that, seeing us together…you looked so fucking sexy." He fastened his lips to my neck and I dropped my head to the side, giving him more space to work as I moaned and shifted, grinding my ass against him. I could feel him, huge and hard, as he pressed his hips into me.
My voice was hoarse, desperate, to see what he saw, my imagination no longer enough. "I want to see it. I want to watch us."
He groaned into my neck as his hands and hips stilled at my words. He used the hand on my breast to hold me to him as he leaned to the side, reaching for his phone where it lay on the coffee table. One-handed, he unlocked it and opened a secure app that required his thumbprint and two separate passwords. Finally, a video file appeared. He nudged my arm and handed me the phone, allowing him the freedom to use both hands on me again. Both moved back to my waist for a moment before one snaked under my top, the other under the waistband of my shorts. I shuddered as he massaged my whole breast before rolling the nipple between his fingers. His other hand moved to cup my mound, his long fingers sliding the length of my slit. Finding how wet I already was, he groaned again, then shifted our bodies, sliding his legs under mine and bringing his knees up, opening me up wide for his touch. When he ran his slick fingers up to trace my clit, my whole body convulsed so hard I almost dropped the phone.
"Turn it on." He paused his assault on my neck for only a moment to whisper the command against my skin. With everything he was doing to my body, I'd nearly forgotten what had gotten us here.
The sensations he evoked were so strong that my hand shook as I reached to press play. I'd assumed the recording was from a security feed, and expected to see a silent, grainy video, and was completely unprepared for the clean, sharp image of Ranger and me from the back, his hand gripping my upper arm as he steered me toward his Porsche, sound so clear you could hear the gravel crunching under our feet. As Ranger reached to open the door for me, the image zoomed in close enough to see the anger flash across my face as I whirled on him, reaching to shove him away. In the blink of an eye, he had my wrists restrained at my sides as he used his lower body to pin mine to the car. I hadn't taken the time to fully appreciate how hot he'd looked that night, his designer jeans molded to his powerful thighs and tight ass. I'm sure they showcased what he had concealed behind his zipper as well, but it wasn't visible with the way he was pressed against me. The muscles in his arms flexed, partly from holding me as I thrashed against him, and I suspect also from keeping himself from throttling me.
I had to say I looked pretty damn good myself. My sky-high heels did wonders for my ass and made my legs look amazing, not to mention they had the added benefit of putting me eye-to-eye with the angry Cuban man I was arguing with. I ignored the angry words we were spitting at each other, instead focusing on our body language. Our voices were hard, the exchange fast, our words sharp, but our bodies told the truth of what had always existed between us. If you'd asked me at the time, I'd have sworn I was struggling to free myself from his grip, but watching myself now, I could separate my words and my tone from the way my body moved against his. It was the same way I was moving against him now as he used his hand to cup my mound while pressing me back into him as we ground our hips together, his cock firmly nestled in the crack of my ass.
I watched as the tension in his body caused his muscles to contract, he was nearly vibrating, the frustration, anger, and need clearly visible. It was as if the invisible string that tied the two of us had been stretched like elastic, all the way to its limit, and rather than break, it suddenly retracted, our bodies colliding from the force of it. Watching as I fused my mouth to his, I had to fight the urge to turn and do the same now. I couldn't look away from the phone, transfixed by our urgent movements on the screen, me frantically working to free his cock, Ranger fisting his hand in my hair, ravaging my mouth, sliding his other under my dress, ripping away the small scrap of lace that was the last barrier between us. Once it was gone, he drove himself into me with such intensity and force, that the Porsche rocked, then rebounded, forcing him even deeper inside me. Inspired by what was transpiring on the screen, Ranger took the opportunity to thrust two long fingers inside me. The sudden invasion and the way the rhythm and intensity of his movements mirrored the way he'd move inside me that night, the way I was watching him on the screen, combined to send me spiraling toward the edge. I fought the urge to close my eyes as I tried to hold off my orgasm, so close I could taste it.
I watched the video intently, Ranger slamming into me over and over again as he held me pressed against his sleek black car, owning me, punishing me. Just as I witnessed my body buck and thrash against his, forcing him to come with me, Ranger added a third finger to the two already plunging in and out of my pussy. When he curled them to hit that perfect spot and brought his other hand down, using the heel to press down low on my belly and two fingers to rub my clit, it all became too much, I screamed and my body contracted, clamping down on his hand as I came. The force of it made me dizzy and lightheaded; I collapsed back against him, panting and sweaty. Ranger was placing kisses along my neck, murmuring sweet-sounding Spanish endearments as he waited for me to return to myself.
When I could finally breathe relatively normally, I turned my head, finding his mouth and fusing mine to it, trying to relay all I was feeling at the moment. He groaned and shifted his hips, grinding them against me. His hands moved to my hips and he lifted me, turning my body so I was straddling him. Reaching back to grab his shirt, he pulled it off, then removed mine just as quickly, but the shirt caught on my hand that still clutched his phone, the video now over, ready and waiting for me to press play again.
"Hold that thought." My voice was hoarse, and I still panted a bit. I snatched the TV remote from the coffee table drawer, clicked the power button, and then a couple more buttons, before dropping it back onto the table. Returning my attention to his phone, I navigated to the settings I wanted and then dropped it to the table beside the remote just as the video of Ranger and I flickered to life on the big screen. Now that I had succeeded in casting the image to the larger screen and set it to play on repeat, I returned my gaze to the leading man himself. His wolf grin was apparent as he raised one eyebrow at my actions. I blushed, giving him a flimsy excuse. "You've watched it more than once, but haven't found any clues. I thought I might find something you missed."
A deep, sexy chuckle rumbled through his chest before he schooled his features. Feigning a businesslike affect, he told me, "That's an excellent idea, Ms. Plum. A fresh set of eyes might be just what this situation calls for." His dirty grin reappeared and he admitted, "I may have been a bit distracted when I watched, other, pressing issues drawing my attention." He slid his hand between us, rubbing his hard cock through the denim.
Jesus, the thought of him touching himself, making himself come while watching the video of us made my pulse quicken and parts of my body began to throb with the need to see it for myself. I covered his hand with my own, before pushing it away and making quick work of the button and zipper on his jeans. Sliding my hand inside, I grasped his cock, giving it a squeeze, before sliding my other hand down to cup and roll his balls. He let out a growl as his hips flexed involuntarily. I looked him dead in the eye and husked out, "Had your hands full, did you?" He swallowed hard and just nodded.
I released him and crawled off his lap, pressed play on the phone screen, and settled on the opposite end of the couch facing him. I flicked my eyes to the TV, where the two of us had just reached the car, then back to him. My eyes met his before drifting down to his cock, then back up again. "Show me," I ordered.