Chapter 12
12
I ’d dreamed about exactly this moment for a month, then last night I jerked myself off like a fuckin’ teenager just thinking about Marisol and her perfect body. A body now naked and melting into me. Fuck, but I couldn’t control myself.
The limited brain cells still functioning told me it was because I hadn’t had pussy in over two months. Unheard of for me. With other women, it was usually immediate gratification, but whatever this was with Marisol was more than all those things put together and it scared the shit out of me.
The innocent way she came to my door. The almost shy way she presented herself. It turned me the fuck on in a way I hadn’t expected and never experienced.
I pumped between her luscious ass cheeks a few more times. The glide and slide made my eyes cross, but my selfish dick wanted more—way more.
I reached for the bedside table, yanked open the drawer and pulled out a strip of condoms, tore one off, then ripped it open with my teeth. I sheathed myself, and leaned over until my lips were inches from her ear .
“You ready for me, babe?” I wanted to hear her say it, I needed to know she was still as into it as I was.
She answered by arching her back and wiggling her fine ass, then she turned her head and mumbled, “Yes, do it, now.”
That was all the encouragement I needed. I pushed back onto my knees, gripped her hips and slid home.
“Fuuuck!” Her pussy swallowed my dick and I held her hips tighter as I pumped her from behind.
I wanted to start out slow but my body took over and there was no controlling the absolute pleasure rocketing through my veins. Like the strongest drug she hit my bloodstream and heated me from the inside out.
Swear to fuck my vision blurred and little sparks of light shot through my brain. The air in the room crackled with the tension sparked from need and want. I never denied myself what I wanted with advancing the club or with women, but this wasn’t about keeping score or adding notches. Whatever this woman did to me bordered on unique, something I’d never experienced—and fuck knows I’d experienced it all.
I pounded harder wanting to get deeper, wanting to own her, and know her, and feel every part of her. I smoothed my hand up her back over her spine, then brushed her hair to the side. My lips devoured the soft skin of her neck. She angled her head toward me and I captured her lips again as I rode her from behind.
When I nipped her lower lip she moaned into my mouth and I lost all control. Easing up I slid my hand to her core finding her clit and teasing it between my fingers. I moved my thumb in small circles keeping time with the rhythm of my hips. Her soft whimpers grew to demanding moans louder and louder as her head thrashed against the pillow. We were both so close, but fuck I didn’t want it to end. I never wanted this glorious out-of-body release to end.
I pinched her clit and she exploded with a groan drawing my cock deeper with every pulse of her body. The aftershocks consumed me and I had no choice but to give up my fight. Let my body float to another place where club grudges and bad blood didn’t exist. A blissful place I knew only existed while I was deep in Marisol’s body.
Collapsing to her side I held her close not wanting to let go of her—or this moment afraid any movement would break the spell surrounding us. We laid in each other’s arms, hearts beating, ragged breathing, not able to move.
“This would be so easy, if it wasn’t so fuckin’ hard.” The words fell from my brain and slipped out of my mouth before I realized it.
She cocked her head. “I wasn’t expecting philosophy from an outlaw biker who owns a strip club in Tijuana.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Me either.”
“What did you mean?”
I shrugged confused by my moment of emotion, and not even sure what I meant.
“You mean this is hard because I work for you?”
“Okay.” I’d come to my senses enough to give her a tough-guy response. A pussy move, for sure, but what choice did I have? Whatever this was would be doomed from the beginning. I was down here to get shit done with Sandoval and clear my name with the Royal Bastards which didn’t include any distractions—especially with this delicate flower.
She shifted and propped herself up against the pillows. “I get it. This was a one-time thing.”
“Right.”
“And it can’t happen ever again.”
“Right.”
“Because you’re my boss and it would be awkward and certainly not professional.” Marisol swung her legs over the bed. “ Because the right thing to do would be to stay far away from each other.”
“Exactly.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and hauled her tight against me. “But fuck me, I’ve never been known for doing the right thing.”
I nuzzled her neck and she tried to wiggle away from me. “What are you doing? You just said we can’t?—”
“Fuck what I said. Give me a few more minutes and I’m gonna be sinking into your sweet body again.”
Two loud knocks on my door filtered through to the bedroom. “What the fuck?” I mumbled against the soft skin of her neck.
I rolled off the bed, grabbed for my tequila-soaked jeans, and tugged them on. As I headed for the door realization hit. I just fucked a woman I definitely shouldn’t be with who could wreck me with her pouty lips.
I yanked the door open to Blood’s pissed off face. “What the hell are you doin’?” His nose flared. “You smell like you downed a bottle of tequila.”
I motioned to my jeans. “A bottle broke and I came up to change.”
Blood’s eyes narrowed as he eyed my jeans. “Hurry up, we’re slammed downstairs.”
“I’ll be right down.”
“Marisol also went missing. Gina said she went out for a break and hasn’t been back. You seen her?”
“I’ll be right down,” I repeated, because shit, I didn’t know if Blood was on to us or if he was just fishing.
I could hear Blood’s hard voice and he didn’t sound happy. He would be the one deterrent with my plan. The man barely uttered more than four words at a time, but I had a feeling he didn’t miss anything. Plus, with their history, he probably knew Smoke better than he knew himself.
Dangerous.
While Smoke answered the door, I quickly retrieved my clothes and slipped into the adjoining bathroom. If this was to play out right, I couldn’t appear too anxious. I had to sell innocence, which wasn’t a stretch with my limited sexual experience.
The aftershocks of whatever just happened continued to pulse through me. I’d prepared myself to stay in the moment, but somehow Smoke’s X-rated body invaded me in more ways than one. I’d planned on faking the moans and whimpers, but they were all too real. I’d also planned on faking the orgasm, but that was way too real and totally unexpected especially since I’d never experienced an orgasm with any of my other partners. That fact shook me to my core and left me confused. How could a man I despised and hoped to take down bring me to such a euphoric place?
I finished cleaning up and slipped into my clothes, then exited the bathroom. There was no time to analyze my mixed-up emotions now especially when?—
“That was Blood. I gotta get downstairs.” Smoke entered the room and quickly closed the distance between us pulling me close. “We’re gonna figure this out.”
“I think we already did. You made yourself clear and I agree with you. It would be a very bad idea for us to get involved. Plus, I need this job and I don’t want to put it in jeopardy.”
He dug his fingers into my hair and angled his mouth to mine. After another sensuous kiss he pulled back and mumbled against my lips, “But I’m not ready to let you go yet, and there’s no fuckin’ way I can see you at the club and not want more of this.” He kissed me again and for a split second my sly, artful plan dissolved in a rush of emotion.
Concocting this strategy with Smoke as the main target came together easily when I was in my room at the villa. Seeking revenge and retribution kept me going for the last year. For the first time I had a slight understanding of my father’s need for vengeance.
“But for now, I gotta change and get back downstairs.” He stepped away from me and I missed the heat of his body. He pushed the tequila soaked jeans over his hips until they pooled at his feet. I told myself to turn away, but I had to admit the back of this sculpted man was as good as the front. Even his bare feet were sexy.
Stop ogling the enemy.
When he turned toward me a sly grin curved his lips. “I think you like what you see.”
“Definitely.” I walked backwards desperate to put some distance between us because after experiencing my first orgasm ever I didn’t trust myself. I knocked my calf on the footboard of his bed, righted myself, then headed for the door. It didn’t help I could hear him chuckling at my act of clumsiness as I fled his apartment.
I focused on the stairs in front of me and getting back to the last hour of work. I caught my breath and adjusted my game face determined to stay in character.
Putting my idea in motion wiped away the helpless feelings. It gave me a purpose and a reason to wake up every morning after months of debilitating depression. A way to finally wipe the slate clean and put the pain behind me. My natural skills for list making and setting goals played into the scheme, but organizing it all in my head and carrying it out were two different functions.
I certainly hadn’t planned on Smoke as a living, breathing sexy as hell male. Frankly, I always envisioned the Bastards as the devil without any human characteristics. I’d clumped them together and wasn’t prepared for the real-life in-your-face version. Or the person who gave me my first orgasm .
My sexual past would be categorized as mechanical at best and downright boring at worst. Mostly with partners I really didn’t care about, which led to just going through the motions. Sadly, although my former partners were capable, there was no excitement and therefore, no happy ending.
Then enters Smoke, a man who belongs to an MC club I’ve vowed to hate, and all I can think of is jumping back into bed for another round of the hottest sex I’ve ever experienced.
Not good.
Not good at all.