Chapter 5
5
Scorpio
I fell asleep like a goddamn baby with Karma in my arms. Didn’t think I would. And not just because of the nightmares I knew would come after visiting Chicago and Honey’s grave. I also didn’t think I’d be able to sleep because my dick was rock hard and throbbing even as I told her I’m fine and she should sleep.
I must be some sort of sadomasochistic freak telling her that, because I’m sure she’d have done anything for me after I made her come like that. The way she just came undone for me, the way she sighed and moaned and writhed then let it all go as though she was letting go of years’ worth of stuff weighing her down… that was a memory I didn’t want to spoil by just fucking her brains out afterwards. That would make it cheap. And I couldn’t let that happen because watching her come like that for me is definitely up there with my top best memories now.
Truth is, I’ve been trying hard to get Karma in my bed because she’s so gorgeous, tough and cool all rolled into a mouthwatering package. I’ve yet to get tired of just watching her. I always wanted to see if there’s anything soft about her. And oh, boy, there is. From her lips to her velvety pussy and her sweet little moans as she begged me to let her come. Under all that toughness, she’s just a delicate flower, like those pretty tattoos covering her belly and chest. So different from the angry dark ones all over her arms. Some of those are straight out of a nightmare, especially the blood-soaked women, one on each arm. I’m pretty sure those are supposed to be her.
I had a lot of time to study all of them by the flickering yellowish light in the cabin and later by the crisp dawn light, because my own nightmares did eventually make an appearance. Just before dawn, after the moon and stars had already disappeared from the sky and the sun was not yet ready to come up.
At first I thought what woke me was those hard ass would-be rapist guys scratching at the door, but it was just my own bad memories turned into monsters in my brain. I would’ve preferred the bikers trying to break in. At least that’s a threat I know how to fight. I shouldn’t have let Joker drag me back to Chicago. But until I got there, I thought I could handle it. I can’t. So it’s best to just leave it all alone, never think about it and drown the monsters in alcohol and wild sex like I’ve been successfully doing all these years.
If it was anyone else in bed with me, I’d have woken them up and fucked the nightmares away. But Karma… she’s nothing like I expected and I wanna see where that goes before I mess it up. Not that I’m looking for anything but a good time. Anything else never ends well. And this time, it’s absolutely guaranteed to end before it even starts.
But I won’t make the mistake of trying to sleep without first getting my cock taken care of again.
I did eventually fall asleep again, but not before taking a very cold shower at dawn and finishing the bottle of whiskey Karma opened last night.
Now the sun’s hot and in my eyes as I try to open them and she’s not lying beside me.
Realizing that is enough to make me sit bolt upright scanning the room. I don’t fully relax until I see her sitting in one of the deck chairs outside, her long hair shining like gold as it drips onto the planks.
“Good morning,” she says as I walk up to her, smiling at me over her shoulder. “I thought you were gonna sleep all day.”
The sun’s already very high in the sky, but it can’t be noon yet, can it?
“Is that my shirt?” I ask as I sit next to her in the other deck chair.
She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. I just kind of like your smell. So I wanted more of it.”
The shirt she’s wearing is the one she ripped off me last night. It’s also the same one I sweated through in Chicago, at the cemetery and on my ride over here. So she got a lot of smell out of it. But I’m not even worried about any of that. I’m too awestruck by her brutal honesty and the fact it took us so long to get here.
“Is there any more coffee?” I ask, pointing at the small travel mug she’s holding in her hands.
“Plenty. I just made a fresh batch,” she says. But instead of handing me her cup, she picks up a cylindrical contraption from the floor by her feet and pours some coffee into a tin cup she’s clearly set out for me. It’s been a while since I smelled good coffee and hers smells divine. The scent wakes me up all on its own.
“Do you want some creamer and sugar?” she asks.
“Nope,” I say then swallow the contents of the cup in one go.
“More,” I say and hand her the empty cup back. She giggles, a sound I never thought I’d hear pass her lips, and pours me another cup.
This time I take the cup and the coffee maker from her hands. “What is this thing? I want one.”
She giggles again. It sounds like the birds singing in the trees all around us only better.
“It’s a portable espresso maker,” she says. “I just got it. I used to have a bitchin’ pour over set before this. But it broke.”
She pouts her lips in the most endearing way. I want to kiss that pout so bad my cock jerks to attention on just the thought of doing it.
“Bitchin’, huh?” I say. “Sorry it broke, but other than that, I have no idea what you just said.”
Her eyes widen excitedly. “It’s like a glass jar with a filter that you use to make coffee. It takes longer to brew than regular coffee, but it tastes amazing once it does. I used to be able to brew coffee for everyone with it. But I should’ve known glass and motorcycles don’t mix. This is actually better.”
She takes the coffee maker from my hand and looks at it. “But it’s only good for a couple of cups.”
The giggles and excitement drained from her voice the longer she spoke. I bet I know why… she’s thinking about dead Reaper. But I don’t want to go there. This day is too fine for that kind of grief.
“You got some breakfast in that bag of goodies of yours?” I ask, pointing at the backpack by her feet.
She leans down, picking it up. “Sure. I got some jerky and crackers. Maybe a candy bar or two. I need to do some shopping.”
She hands me the things she listed.
“Man, you fugitives really know how to live,” I say, biting into the jerky which I knew would be good and is. “I always forget to pack food.”
“But not liquor,” she says, eying the empty bottle I left out here this morning.
“Nope, that I remember.” Another thing I don’t want to talk about. This day could be perfect. Unless we fuck it up by talking about the wrong things.
Maybe she feels the same way, because she doesn’t say anything more, just busies herself with clearing out the coffeemaker to brew some more coffee. She has a whole set of tools for that, including a plastic baggy for the trash and a special, pump-topped bottle of clean water for washing it.
“So where’d you hear about this place?” I ask. “A good review online saying it was a bitchin’ place for fugitives and outlaws?”
She stops the cleaning and gives me a hard look, the kind I was used to getting from her before she landed in my bed last night.
“Stop calling me a fugitive.”
“Why? It’s what you are, right?” I have no idea why I’m doing this, why I’m making her mad and cold, when all I want to do is rip my shirt off her and fuck her until she screams my name. I guess I just want to see how long her niceness to me will hold. I like to test stupid shit like that whenever I find something good because I’m sadomasochistic. And an idiot.
“So are you,” she mutters and focuses on cleaning her coffee maker again.
“Not that I’m aware of,” I say and take another bite of her delicious jerky. “I’m more just your garden variety outlaw.”
She laughs, but it’s not a sing-song pretty kind of sound. “Don’t sell yourself short now, Scorpio. And don’t be modest. It’s not attractive.”
“Sorry.” I stuff some more jerky in my mouth before I say more stupid things.
Not sure why she’s so offended at being called a fugitive, though. It’s what all of them are in that Forsaken Outlaws MC of hers. They’re all on the run from the law and some of them have even made the FBI’s Most Wanted list. The warrior beauty sitting beside me included. As well as Grim and Reaper.
“I want to get out of that life,” she says quietly, her voice as soft as the breeze blowing across the lake before us. “I’m just so sick of always running, you know? Of not having a place to call home. Of never knowing what’s gonna happen next. Who’s gonna die next…”
Her voice shakes on that last, reminding me of tiny ripples on otherwise calm water. This sadness of hers is just as pointless as those ripples. Because the surface of water always rights itself and wishing for things you can never have sucks all the fun out of life.
“How are you gonna do that?”
She shrugs. “I used to know a guy who knows some other guys that can maybe make it happen. My favorite tattoo artist knows him. I was halfway to Brooklyn to go see her and ask if she can put me in touch with him. But she’s not there anymore. She’s in LA.”
I wasn’t actually expecting an answer. I meant it like a rhetorical question so she’d realize she’s chasing a pipe dream that’ll just break her heart some more. But clearly, she has a whole plan.
“And that also answers your question of why I’m here,” she says, smiling for the first time in what seems like ages. “I’m heading back to LA to find the guy.”
“But you already found me,” I say and take her hand. “You don’t need some other guy.”
She gives me a crooked smile. This time I do kiss it off, vaguely wondering why all her talk of this other guy actually made me feel something very close to jealousy.
Idiotic.
So I forget all about it as I help her into my lap. She comes willingly.
Her kiss is as soft and perfect as the one last night. As tasty as the coffee she made for me and the food she gave me. As healing as the waters stretching out before us and just as wild.
And that’s what life should be all about. Feeling good. Everything else is just pointless noise.
Last night she tasted like the lights that burn late into the night, when passion is high and all stops are pulled. Today she tastes like the fresh morning of a new day. And also of coffee and something so soft and pleasant I have no name for it, just a satisfied feeling in the pit of my stomach that’s quickly spreading outward. Especially as she breaks away from my lips and brushes her cheek against mine.
Then she starts kissing my jawline and my neck, the touch of her lips like the softest breeze. A very fragrant breeze. Her scent is alive around us. Sweet like jasmine, unforgiving like the winter wind. A dizzying combination. And it gets even worse as her lips reach my chest. She doesn’t forget my nipples either, which so many hoes do when they get sweet like this. Which isn’t often. Everyone’s just in it for the happy end lately.
My cock is twitching for the touch of her lips, not gonna lie, but this sweet torture has a charm I can’t deny. She slides down between my legs, her arms holding onto the sides of the chair, her tattoo-covered muscles coiling and uncoiling, making the images come alive.
Her lips are dropping kisses on my abs now, each touch making my breath catch in my throat until I forget how to exhale. Who knew she was this talented? Must have something to do with having two guys to practice on. And as much as I don’t want to think about either Grim or Reaper, because that’s a whole thorny cluster that has no place in this peaceful lakeside cabin, I wouldn’t mind having them here too. I wonder if they did it with each other or just with her. Some of the stuff she said last night suggested they did. I never thought of them that way, but now I am. Especially Grim, with his wild wolf look and crackling intensity.
But then her lips finally reach my cock and I forget all about him again. She kisses my cock right through the fabric of my boxers, the roughness mixing so well with her soft touch I’m fully hard in a second. I want to rip my shorts off and feed it to her, see how much she can take past those soft lips of hers. I bet she can take a lot. But I can wait to find out. There’s no rush. There’s only this lazy warm summer day and her sweet kisses and tiny moans as she gets to know my cock in a way I don’t think anyone ever has.
My hand is in her hair and I don’t remember moving it there. It’s so much softer than I expect it to be with her warrior braids and shaved sides. Just like everything else about her. Even the touch of her hands as she runs them up and down my sides and my abs is as soft as a virgin’s.
She licks the length of my shaft through the fabric, making me groan because even the stretchy cotton is too confining a prison for it now.
She looks up at me, grinning, then finally frees my cock by yanking down the elastic waistband. My eagerly free cock slaps her on the lips as it bounces out, which is good, because it’s exactly where I want it.
She catches it in her palm, her touch soft yet just firm enough.
“Nice,” she whispers as she strokes it a few times, making my breath catch in my throat once again.
“Yeah?” I ask and she grins and nods.
“Then why don’t you kiss it already?”
She winks at me then runs her tongue along a pulsing vein, from the base to the head making all the hair on my arms stand up. I actually shudder as she does it again. And by the time she finally wraps her lips around the head, I very nearly come.
Only the practice from thousands of blow jobs I’ve gotten in my life makes me able to hold it in. But that won’t last long. Not when she does a very special thing with her tongue, swirling it over the most sensitive parts of the head while her hot mouth is wrapped around it.
Her breaths are like blasts from a furnace on a very cold night. I don’t even care who taught her how to suck cock so well. I just want her to show me what else she learned.
And she does, her skilled mouth and tongue taking more of me in. Then pulling back, then swallowing it deeper. By the time my cock hits the back of her throat, my balls touching her chin, I’m not sure I even know my name anymore.
And I don’t know if it’s her skill or my practice that is making it possible for me not to come. But I’m so close I’m about ready to start begging her to let me.
My hands are fists in her luxuriously soft hair, but I dare not make any move that would make her stop what she’s doing. Because what she’s doing is perfection.
She sucks on the way up, opens for me on the way down, her teeth just the barest presence at the edge of the pleasure and heat of her mouth.
I don’t think I could control any part of my body if I tried right now. All my awareness is on my dick and how good her mouth feels wrapped around it. An eternity has already passed since she started. An eternity is yet to come. However long it takes. Or however short.
She’s moaning around my cock, the vibrations sending shivers right up my core straight to the brain. She’s the most perfect woman I have ever had wrapped around my cock. And we haven’t even gotten started yet. That’s pretty much all I know. And that…
“I’m gonna come now.”
She looks up at me, her eyes as bright as the summer sky as she smiles around my cock. And does something new with her tongue that makes any kind of holding back mission impossible.
I come with a groan that feels like it came from the darkest depths of my chest. And the way she swallows it all makes me not want to stop coming. She lets me fill her up like it’s all she ever wanted. This woman. I always knew she was special. I just didn’t know how much.
I still don’t have full control of my arms, but I do manage to wrap them around her as she returns to my lap. She kisses me, my come still on her lips, and there’s precious few people I’d ever let do that. But she can do whatever the fuck she wants to me.