Free Disengaged: A Dangerously Forbidden Love Affair by Jamie A Magee Page B

panties, pressing into my clit on every other sway. His delicious kiss fell from my breast. His teeth scraped across my ribs as he moved lower. A new degree of trepidation swelled inside of me. I had never liked receiving in this position. It never once got me off and always left me feeling exposed and dirty.
    But nothing was the same with Slayton Winslow, a lesson I was gripping fast. I lifted up meeting each of his kisses on my stomach. When he reached my hips, when I felt his hands squeezing my ass as he pulled my legs further apart I was sure I would come at any second. Which is exactly why I was frantically whispering his name.
    His nimble fingers brushed aside my panties. It was sobering at first as my mind pulled on past experiences. But unlike any other boy I’d had so far, Slayton’s lips fell around my clit and slowly drew it into his mouth as his powerful tongue danced around every nerve.
    My eyes were wide in the darkness as my senses went crazy and I moved with him. I heard and felt him groan against me, but when he paused for a second, when I realized as his mouth worked me his hand was working him the entire experience grasped a new level of heat. Need. Nothing this transfixing, this addictive had ever happened to me before, and I’d be damned if I wanted it to end. No, I wanted to ride this edge of ecstasy for the rest of my existence.
    My hands flew to the thick locks of his head as I felt the burning build explode through my core. He kissed me harder. He pulled harder drawing out the rush of my climax to a point of delusion. I heard him move his hand faster. His ruthless moan, the hot breath that sighed over my slick flesh was nothing but icing on the cake.
    I saw them again, the stars. And when he laid his head at the base of my stomach, lax and still beyond the breath he was chasing, I was sure he saw them too.
    Like always, bliss is fleeting...our moment alone was robbed when there was a swift rap on the door.

EIGHT
    (Seven weeks later)
    I was falling in love with Slayton Winslow. There wasn’t a single rational thought that could sway my feelings. Trust me. I’d tried. I’d grown tired of the battle and was ready to relax into the fall. But each time I did, doubt would clench me, and I would feel a sick foreboding that no prayer could push away.
    It had been over a month since we heard the waitress rattling plates outside the stockroom after her friendly knock, ending our passionate bout. Weeks and weeks of days just like our first one. At least the rush of them felt the same. As far as I know, he hadn’t fought in the cage again, but the danger, the watchful glares and distrust were around every corner.
    Slayton drove me to work and home, most times he never left me for long during the day and if he did I always spotted someone lingering and watching over me. Usually, it was Channing.
    Mrs. Jin wasted no time falling into place with the chaos of my life. Before Slayton took me home that first day she had her daughter and sister move all of my things, which wasn’t much, to her apartment. Her excuse was if the men came looking she wanted the truth in her corner, but I knew deep down she’d been looking for an excuse to get me free from my dad, and had found one. It didn’t matter how many times I told her I could control my dad, and I was not broken or confused. She didn’t like him. Never would.
    Beyond that she acted like Slayton staying vigilant at my side was an ordinary affair. He never came in the shop, but he was always in sight. I was sure those drops people made to him had been moved to where he could work and watch me at once. More than once I saw shady guys by his bike.
    Four days into my new life, Mrs. Jin and I were sitting in the sweltering back room, eating the lunch she made for me. That day Slayton had been gone most of the morning and I was staring out the door across the way at Channing, who was parked down the street.
    Something deep, I mean deep, deep, down told me to