Chapter 2
Rowan Rafferty finds out American women are dangerous—to architecture
Kendra missed my stumble as I clumsily eased off the barstool, struggling to keep up with her as she exited the front door.
I had no idea where this woman was taking me, but my dick didn’t care.
I hadn’t been naked with a woman in a personal capacity since before the surgery, and when Kendra asked if I wanted to go somewhere else, the answer was a resounding hell, yes.
Did I care that she was hung up on that dense arsehole? Maybe.
Wait. No. Hell, no.
I expected her to call a cab, but she dragged me toward the back of the bar instead. The Squad Room stood next to the Flamingo Cove Marina and my home for the next however long. Kendra didn’t ask where I lived or where I wanted to go, so I assumed she had a place in mind.
“There.” She pointed to an outdoor stall.
I squinted in the darkness. “What’s there?” My hackles raised. I heard Flamingo Cove was chock-a-block full of crazy motherfuckers, but Kendra didn’t strike me as a woman who could star in a Dateline or Snapped episode.
“There,” she reiterated. “The outdoor shower. Proximity and privacy.”
I blinked a few times in the dimly lit space.
The word "shower" was generous for the spigot that stuck out of the weathered, salt-stained side of the marina building.
The rough-hewn wood walls created an open-air maze without a door—a maze Kendra seemed familiar with as she led me inside the darkened stall.
The scent of ocean air mixed with the sound of seagulls in the distance.
And like a blind idiot with a raging boner who laughed in the face of danger, I followed her into the shadows.
I watched her pull off her shirt to reveal generous breasts spilling out of a utilitarian black sports bra.
I’d seen curvy women in sexy lingerie on six continents, and yet, the sight of this woman in a black spandex bandage did something to me.
I wasn’t going to last very long.
Kendra’s blonde hair caught the light as she bent to slide her pants and underwear off her hips.
My breath stuttered in my chest at her smooth skin.
Was she tanned from living in Florida or some other reason?
I had many questions but couldn’t think of a damn thing to say at the moment.
I could only watch as she stood bared to me, waist-down.
I reached for her, but she pressed her hand on my chest.
“I don’t need complications right now, sailor,” she commanded. “I want a quickie. Hard. Against that wall. Matter of fact, don’t even kiss me.”
My mouth went dry, and my cock jerked in my pants. I tried to swallow. “You don’t want to kiss?”
“Nope. Fuck me. Hard, Raff.”
“But,” I stuttered.
“I’m on birth control and haven’t had sex in,” she paused, and I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, and damn if that didn’t turn me on more. “Well, I think we had a different president. It’s been a while.”
I nodded.
“When was your last check-up?”
My eyes widened, and my heart pounded. “Two weeks ago. I’m cleared for duty.”
Thank god she didn’t ask what kind of duty. I’m not even sure I could have told her.
“Do you want to fuck me from behind?” Kendra didn’t wait for my answer. “Yes. Let’s do that!” She turned around to grab the cross bars on the wall. She widened her legs, and I could swear I saw arousal dripping at her core.
I blinked a few times and tried to unscramble my brain.
She looked at me over her shoulder. “What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Get in there!”
When she turned back to look at the wall, I quickly unbuttoned my pants and dropped trou to my knees enough for my cock to spring free. I was never more grateful for going commando than right that moment. I cleared my throat. “You want it hard? You got it.”
Without preamble or foreplay, I gripped her hips and thrust into her in one go. Her fanny tightened around me, hot and wet, and I nearly forgot to breathe.
“Harder,” she panted.
I pulled out and slammed into her, balls-deep, grunting with the effort. Someone was groaning. Stars floated in my vision even though my eyes were shut. She felt like heaven. I wanted more.
“More,” she grunted. “Give me more, Raff.”
Like the willing fuck-toy that I was, I pressed my hand in between her shoulder blades to push her flatter.
The move jutted her arse toward me more.
She widened her hands to brace for what was coming and grabbed the spigot on one side.
Such a good girl. I about spewed all over us both with the submission.
I growled as I picked up the pace. My fingers were likely leaving bruises on her hips as I clutched her ass tighter to me. The thrusts became less smooth and more frantic as she gasped and clasped her fanny around my dick. The groaning became more insistent.
“Kendra,” I whispered. “Touch yourself. Get yourself there, or I’ll leave you behind.”
“Yes, sir,” she breathed.
I watched her right hand reach for her clit, flicking and circling the tight bud as I fucked her from behind. The sound of my balls slapping her arse filled the space, along with her nonsense cries of pleasure.
“Kendra!” I shouted a warning.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She shuddered as she went over the edge. “Jesse!”
I pulled out of her so fast that the move caused my lousy knee to buckle, and I dropped to the ground as my spoof splattered on the concrete. “Fuck.”
“What?” Kendra tried to right herself but had grabbed onto the outdoor shower stall and spigot too tightly.
It was too late to realize that the loud groaning I had heard was the shower stall on its last legs.
Kendra’s push brought down all the walls with a thunderous crash, sending debris flying in all directions.
The unexpected force caused her to yank the spigot off the wall, unleashing a torrent of water that sprayed everywhere, turning everything into chaos.
We were exposed to every fucking one at the marina and soaking wet.
I scrambled to pull my pants up over my quickly disappearing erection as Kendra grabbed her sopping clothes and took off running, leaving me wondering what the hell happened.