Chapter Twelve

Chapter

Twelve

The Only Good One Left

Mo

Mo’s eyes opened, and he saw dark.

Not unusual. That happened every night.

What was unusual was he had a little bundle of heat tucked

tight to him.

Lottie.

He was in Lottie’s bed.

Not on the couch.

In the bed.

With her.

Mo stayed still and breathed in deep, taking in the scent of

her shampoo, the feel of her in his arms, and just her.

He’d get up in a minute, hit his place, get some clothes, go

to the gym, workout and be back to her before she got up.

But he’d give himself a minute, or a few, to feel having her

like he’d wanted her for too long of a time.

Then he’d go so he wouldn’t disturb her.

This plan was ruined when Lottie stirred then made a move in

his arms.

He had to shift some of his bulk, since he was

semi-cocooning her, as she turned from back to him to front his way and shoved

her face in his chest.

“You awake?” she mumbled.

“Yeah, baby.” He gathered her closer again. “Just go back to

sleep.”

She didn’t go back to sleep.

She nuzzled his chest with her face and his cock took

notice.

He was about to repeat she should go to sleep, but she

tipped her head back and touched her tongue to the indent at the base of his

collarbone.

His cock definitely took notice of that.

“Babe—”

“Shh,” she hushed, lifting her hands to his shoulders and

pushing him to his back as her mouth moved on him and her body followed his.

“Lottie, you don’t have to—” he started, curling his fingers

around her waist.

“Quiet,” she whispered, her lips trailing down to his

nipple.

Before he could protest again, her mouth covered it and she

drew in, light and sweet.

Mo shut up.

Lottie didn’t talk. Her mouth was busy. And she used it to

take her time exploring his chest, his stomach, so by the time she got down

between his legs, he was hard as a rock and aching.

She pulled the waistband of his shorts down so it cupped his

balls, and he couldn’t bite back the groan.

He also couldn’t stop himself from coming up on his elbows

to watch her through the shadows.

Mo felt the tip of her tongue trace the underside of his

cock from root all the way to the rim of the head, where she stopped and

tickled him there, back and forth.

Fucking fuck.

He opened his legs, this drawing the waistband tighter

against his balls, and that was magnificent.

She fell through and positioned.

Her hand gripped him at the base, lifting him off his

stomach as her tongue traced up to the head and then she took him deep, gliding

a tight fist up the length she couldn’t swallow.

And that was spectacular.

Mo’s head fell back and another groan rolled up his throat

and out his lips.

Sweet Lottie, he should have known she’d have a sweet mouth.

She blew him. She took her time. She did it right. And when

she’d worked him up so much, he beaded for her, she dragged her tongue across

the head to take in that pearl and then lifted up.

Christ.

She dropped to the side, her hip landing on his inner thigh,

and she dragged her panties down her legs, doing this quick.

She repositioned straddling him, and honest to fuck, it took

all Mo had to put his hands to her thighs instead of one to his cock and one to

her ass to drive her down on him.

She then reached long to the nightstand, where he’d stashed

his wallet when her sister and mother were there.

“Let me do it,” he said, his voice alien to him, coarse and

thick.

“I got it, honey,” she whispered, tossing the wallet back to

the nightstand.

And she did.

She took her time. She did it right. And by the time she got

a goddamned condom on him, she had him so wound up, he nearly blew right into

it.

But he held.

And he held through her positioning him so she could take

him.

And he held when he caught on her sleek warmth.

And he held when she slowly settled in, taking him deep.

But he had no idea how he did that since she whipped off her

nightie while she did it.

The silhouette of her sweet little body and perfect tits

nearly undid him.

But it was Lottie who was in control of the unravelling.

She rode him, slow and tortuous, so much of both, he needed

to beg her to go faster.

But he didn’t say a word.

She drew his hand from her thigh to between her legs and he

thumbed her clit.

After that, she rode him faster.

Fuck yeah.

When she fell forward to plant her hands on his pecs to ride

him tough, Mo shifted his other hand around to her ass, clamped hard, the tips

of his fingers pressing into the sensitive skin at the crease, and she made a

sexy noise he felt sear through his balls and started bouncing.

That’s what he needed.

Mo encouraged her by squeezing her ass, rolling her clit and

bucking up inside her.

He heard her breaths come short but fast, blending with his

coming rough and deep.

Suddenly, one of her hands went up to grip the side of his

neck, the thumb on her other hand dragged hard across his nipple, his balls

drew tight, and he clenched his teeth in an effort not to come.

“Mo,” she breathed, and shot back, arching deep and riding

untamed, bouncing with abandon on his dick.

Thank…

Fuck.

He clamped both hands on her ass, forcing her rhythm faster

and harder, and thrust up into her as his cock exploded, his balls emptied, so

did his mind. Everything that was him about his dick and his Lottie, and he was

still coming when she collapsed on top of him, her body lax, her hips moving as

he kept driving her down on his still shooting cock.

Eventually Mo settled.

Lottie was already spent.

They lay there, connected and silent, and caught their

breath.

Finally, she turned her head and kissed the valley of his

pecs.

Mo moved so he could wrap his arms around her. And there was

so little of her, his arms so long, his fingers could grip his own flesh.

His sweet little Lottie.

“How you doin’?” he murmured, his

voice still thick.

“Exceptional,” she replied, shifting to rest her cheek on

him again.

“Sweet mouth,” he complimented.

“Thanks, babe,” she murmured, but he felt that cheek on him

move with her smile.

“You didn’t kiss me either,” he noted.

He felt her body move with a quiet laugh before she said,

“Yes, I did. Lots of tongue.”

There absolutely was lots of tongue.

Mo joined in her laughter before he pulled her off his

softening dick and rolled her to her side.

He kissed the hair on top of her head and got out of the

bed.

He adjusted his shorts and went to the bathroom, got rid of

the rubber, grabbed one of Lottie’s thick, cream washcloths to wipe down his

cock, rinsed the cloth out, washed his hands and went back to her.

Face to face, he pulled her close then yanked the covers

back over them.

“Now go back to sleep,” he ordered.

She pressed closer and asked, “Is it nightmares?”

Fuck.

He didn’t want to get into this with her.

This was one of the things that drove them away.

“No.”

She didn’t utter a follow-up question.

But for some reason, his mouth moved.

“Conditioned myself to wake up before they happen.”

“Okay,” she said softly.

“I don’t go back to sleep ’cause…”

He didn’t finish.

She still said, “Yeah.”

She knew why.

If he went back to sleep, the nightmares would come.

She left it there.

Or she left that there.

“The other women—?”

It didn’t take her long to deduce that.

“Not big fans of the nightmares or me getting up at two or

three in the morning.”

Her frame got tight.

“Lottie, it’s okay,” he assured her.

“It really isn’t,” she replied.

“It is because I’m not with them, I’m with you.”

He heard her head move on the sheet and he looked down at

the shadow of her face in the dark.

“This is true. It’s still not okay. Didn’t they talk to you

about it?”

“Yeah. The rigmarole. Find a way to sort it out. VA. Pills.

Groups.”

“And?”

“The VA is a clusterfuck. Pills slow me up and I cannot be

slow and do my job. And I got a group.”

The pitch of her voice was higher with her surprise when she

asked, “You’re in a group?”

“It consists of Axl, Mag, Auggie and Boone. Sometimes, shit

goes down with one of us, or one of us sees the other’s got somethin’

up, we hit someone’s crib, have a few beers, talk it out.”

“Axl, I know. Mag, Auggie and Boone?”

“More of Hawk’s men, my boys.”

“Oh.”

“Mag’s my roommate.”

More surprise. “You have a roommate?”

“Tammy took off, he was looking for a place. Moved in.”

“Right.”

“Good guy,” he muttered.

“I’d hope you wouldn’t move an asshole in with you.”

Mo grinned at her.

“What kind of name is ‘Mag?’” she asked.

“Short for Magnusson, his last name.”

“Is his first name Kourtney?”

He started laughing again, and through it, said, “No. It’s

Daniel.”

“Speaking of Daniel. Boone, last or first?”

Mo kept laughing. “First. Last name Sadler. And before you

ask, Auggie is Augustus Hero. And I’ll confirm, his last name is actually Hero.

He gets the most shit. He says it’s Greek and since most women treat him like

he’s a god, I don’t figure he’s lying. Axl is Axl Pantera.”

“I was pretty sure Axl was a god,” she told him. “So if

Auggie is a god, then I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Axl’s a cat.”

“As in tom?”

“Exactly.”

That made Lottie laugh.

He pulled her closer so he could feel it better.

Lottie cuddled in and fell silent.

When she said no more for a while, he again urged, “Now go

back to sleep.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Hold you for a while. Then I might get up and hit the gym.

But I’ll come back, probably before you get up again.”

“Okay.”

He waited for more, but that was all she said.

He felt her body relax and he knew when she fell asleep.

It was then he decided he’d make sure it was deep, less

chance to disturb her when she woke up.

And anyway, he was getting off on being right there, with

her, after fucking, chatting and laughing.

So he was good where he was.

Mo woke again after a hand cracked his ass.

“Get up, sleepyhead. I’m making breakfast.”

He tracked Lottie with his eyes as she rounded the bed and

stopped on the other side, staring down at him.

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