Lunchtime Chronicles: Carolina Reaper

by Keta Kendric

  I didn’t move my hand right away. There was no use in lying to myself — I was attracted to the man. I had seen him naked, gawked at him showering, and sat on his dick while riding backward on his motorcycle. There weren’t many secrets we had left, and I hadn’t known the man a full twenty-four hours.

  The deep rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was asleep. My attempt to feed myself the lie that he’d been the one staging my hand over his dick failed because I’d fallen asleep thinking about it. There was no doubt that the unconscious part of me had done what my conscious mind wasn’t willing to.

  Although consumed by the way his firm body pressed into mine, I eased up. Damn, he was sexy. He was someone I would never have given a second look to if I’d met him in passing because I would have been too busy profiling him like I’d done last night.

  I wouldn’t have considered that he was more than what he presented on his surface. I would have missed that, despite the way he looked, he had a caring nature, strong protective instincts, and those mesmerizing green eyes had the incredible ability to hold a lifetime in a single stare.

  Instead of getting up like I had intended to, I laid my head back on his chest, carefully placed my hand back on his thick bulge, and allowed sleep to lull me back under.

  Chapter Seven

  Israel

  A week later.

  When Zyana was comfortable enough to stay home alone, I started leaving to help her brother. I had shown her around the compound enough that anyone with a pulse knew she was mine even if she didn’t.

  Conventional measures weren’t getting the job done, so Major had requested my assistance in catching his man and disassociating Zyana’s identity from the underground. The relentless pursuit seemed to tighten the unusual bond we had formed with each other.

  Me, being what Major called a modern-day outlaw and him, the non-traditional lawman, weren’t supposed to be friends, but here we were, hunting together. However, this was the second time in our decade-long history that we had banded together for a shared personal reason.

  Wait a damn minute. Had I allowed my brain to admit that I was no longer doing this as a favor, but as a personal quest? What the hell did that mean? Fuck it. I knew exactly what it meant. I cared for Zyana more than I wanted to admit, and I damn sure wasn’t telling her brother.

  Major may have played the law-abiding citizen and by-the-book cop in front of the department, but I knew better. I’d borne witness to what had gone down during a few of his deep cover operations. The man would put a bullet in someone who deserved it faster than I could snap a finger, and like me, he knew how to make a body disappear as masterfully as a seasoned magician.

  He and I had hunted common enemies on several occasions, men who sought to come after my MC for one reason or another, and men who’d committed heinous crimes that Major had to prove in the eyes of the criminal justice system.

  There were times I did him the favor of killing them if he was unable to gather the proof needed to convict them. There were times he’d have an unexpected shoot out when he knew it was someone hiding from me that needed to be dealt with.

  Usually, I didn’t appreciate the difficulties we faced to solve the problem, but this time I was enjoying the company of my houseguest and welcomed the roadblocks, even if it meant flirting with a lingering danger. The idea of coming home to a beautiful woman every day was not something I’d pictured for myself, but there was something special about Zyana that made me add her to my priorities list.

  She and I were from such different worlds that I couldn’t imagine us cultivating a working relationship, but I’d be damned if I didn’t spend time wondering what if. She couldn’t cook for shit, but by the time I made it home every day, she’d have soaked in all of the Messy Mandy she could stand on my secure laptop, the house would be clean, and she’d have half-burned a dinner that I would eat like it was a gourmet meal.

  I wanted to fuck her so badly that I ached all over, and my dick readied itself for a search and destroy mission whenever she was within my reach. She’d taken up the habit of falling asleep against me every night. Somehow, she managed to burrow herself in so tightly, that I was left with no choice but to wrap her up like the gift she’d turned out to be.

  Now, while rolling through the compound’s front gate, I regarded the guys with grunts and quick waves because I was in a hurry to see her. When I rounded the bend of my porch, I found her sitting in one of the lounge chairs with her gaze fixed on the view of the water. Usually, late June brought in extreme bouts of humidity and heat, but the temperature had been unseasonably pleasant.

  Seeing her face light up at the sight of me put a funny twinge in my chest that had me rubbing at the area. The faint sound of music seeping from the house through the screened outer door deepened the smile she had put on my face.

  Rock or heavy metal was what I usually played during my waking hours. Hearing her sing along to some of the tunes hinted at her open-mindedness and had me wondering if she was as impartial about who she dated and slept with. She was attracted to me, I had no doubt about that, but attraction didn’t always translate into a willingness to embrace the next level.

  “You’re not afraid of the snakes and insects anymore?” I asked, remembering how she’d been glued to my side each time we went outside, batting at the insects and searching for snakes.

  Her easy smile made her eyes sparkle. “It took me a minute to understand that the animals are relaxing in their peaceful settings as much as I am. It’s like we’re respecting each other’s space now.”

  The idea of her calling my place peaceful had me downplaying a deep grin while I was taking the seat next to her.

  “Did you burn us some dinner today?” I asked, fighting, but failing, to keep in a laugh.

  She smacked my arm, leaving a little peppery sting that I liked. “I made chicken alfredo, and you will be happy to know that it’s not burned.”

  I nodded, knowing that if it wasn’t burned, the noodles would be over or undercooked, or the chicken may be frozen on the inside. She had no concept of the right time to combine the dishes she made, and me attempting to show her made it worse. It had taken me a while to learn the mechanics of cooking, so I figured time was her only hope.

  The notion that Major and I were another step closer to resolving the case added to the heavy ache that roared to life at the idea of Zyana leaving. Each time she asked about the progress of our hunt, I’d skirt the subject.

  “Can I ask you something, and you give me an honest answer?” she asked, staring under those thick lashes at me with one brow lifted.

  My stare met hers, burrowing in deep enough to catch that exact moment it stirred her discomfort. “I haven’t lied to you yet.”

  She dropped her eyes, and I didn’t miss the small smile that touched her lips before she lifted them to recapture my waiting gaze.

  “I assumed a lot of stuff about you, judging a book by its cover and all. Now that you’ve brought me to this place, I don’t know what to think. The gunfire I hear sometimes—” she said, pointing in the direction of our gun range that I had taken her to see the second day she was here.

  “—The way the word ‘outlaw’ gets tossed around about your MC. The way everyone around here has that look in their eyes like they aren’t afraid to march straight into hell and confront the devil. Instead of assuming about you and your MC, I figured I’d check before speculating this time. What do you guys do for a living?”

  She sat her hope-filled gaze on mine, unaware that I didn’t have shit to hide from her. I wasn’t her brother, and I wasn’t going to place her in a bubble of protection that could get popped by anyone or anything.

  “We sell protection, the kind you can’t walk into a store and buy or purchase online.”

  “Guns?” she asked.

  My head shook in the negative. “The authorities suspect that we sell guns or drugs and we let them think it, knowing they will never prove it. Th
eir assumptions provide the perfect cover for what we really sell.”

  “What do you sell?” she asked, almost breathless with curiosity.

  “We sell protection, like what I’m doing with you, but for much more dangerous and high-profile people. However, our main product involves selling a more permanent solution to people who may find themselves stuck in deadly situations. We track down their problems and provide a solution.”

  She allowed my words to soak in, her eyes flicking left to right before they widened. She leaned closer and whispered, “You guys are hitmen?”

  “Our MC isn’t named Hell Reapers because it has a nice ring to it. When someone puts in an order for a reaping, a soul is claimed and collected,” I told her, holding her wide, unblinking gaze.

  Grinning at the awed expression she flashed, I stood and prepared to enter the house. If she only knew how many people I’ve killed for her brother, I thought, shaking my head.

  Chapter Eight

  Israel

  Later, we assumed our usual positions on the couch. It always started with us sitting apart before she would ease closer and let her head fall against my shoulder. I would play along and turn so that her body would be snuggled into mine.

  Tonight, I couldn’t wait through the game we played and hauled her smoothly into my lap, dragging until she was straddling my legs. She sat, stunned, her wide gaze aimed at mine until I leaned in for a kiss that she didn’t turn down.

  The impact of our lips touching sent heat racing through my veins before I slid a hand behind her neck and the other over her ass. I pressed my lips harder against her mouth, deepening the kiss before my tongue slid between her plump lips. The fresh flavor of her plush mouth, so warm and wet, was like a touch of dark magic penetrating my body. The smooth sweeps of her lips gliding so firmly against mine had me gripping her tight enough to cause pain.

  I adjusted her against me, making my stiff erection fit into the V that parted her thighs. The action made her lose her breath as her quick pants breezed against my lips, the sound flirting with my earlobes and making love to my mind.

  “I’m tired of you teasing my dick and not doing anything about it. Touch it,” I commanded, shoving her hand down between us. I busied one hand with one of her lush ass cheeks and kept the other behind her neck to keep her in place to prolong our heated kiss.

  Her stroke was light along the rigid edges of my shaft, her hand running up and down the length before she began to squeeze and stroke harder and faster. Thankfully, I had showered and put on sweatpants.

  “Fuck this,” I growled. “Take these fucking clothes off,” I barked, not caring that I sounded like a demanding asshole because she was into this as much as me. She sent a few lingering flicks across my lips with her exploring tongue and pressed her lips into mine with a final smack before she backed off. She stood in front of me, taking her sweet time removing her clothes, giving me a show.

  She peeled my t-shirt she wore up her body, exposing a silky blue bra before she tossed the shirt at me, landing it on my head. I took a quick sniff before tossing the shirt around my neck like a towel. She slid her shorts down her legs, and the fluidity of her body movements captured my hungry gaze that traced every tempting curve. Shapely brown hips and thighs moved seductively and kicked up my urge to spread them and feast on her.

  The shape her pussy print made in those tiny blue panties had my full attention. Since the first night we’d met, I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in her pussy before I explored the area extensively with my dick.

  “Wait. Let me help you with that,” I told her, standing. My throat had gone dry because the sight of her had made me thirstier than a motherfucker. She had my whole body jittery and overflowing with a palpable energy that I needed to expend. I’d never been like this for a woman, burning so hot, I could be the replacement for hellfire.

  Her hand slid over my hot skin when I stepped closer and didn’t stop until she was caressing my straining erection. I reached around and unsnapped her bra with a quick twist of my fingers.

  “Have you ever had anything that big?” I asked as her hand continued to pet it like the fucking animal it was becoming.

  She shook her head. “No. I can’t say that I have.”

  “Think you can handle it?”

  She shrugged, but the sneaky grin on her face was speaking her thoughts. “I don’t know. My mind is telling me to be cautious, but my neglected pussy is saying, “You got this, bitch.””

  That’s my fucking girl. She was speaking bold words while holding what was still growing and uncurling in my pants. I loved that she was letting me see that feisty side of her personality I liked so much.

  The bra went sliding across the floor after I tossed it aside, and a second later, one of her dark tips grazed my tongue. I placed a kiss on each, making them pucker even tighter. My hand ran possessively down her body, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her warm silky skin. The sight fed into my ravenous state of mind, fueling a hunger I’d never experienced.

  My hands worked their way down until my fingers were hooked on either side of the thin waistband of her panties. Ripping them would be too quick and easy. I wanted to enjoy the sight of them sliding along her skin and dragging over those delicious curves.

  The way she swayed and quaked when I slid her panties over her ass and watched the wet center separate from her pussy lips had me swallowing my impulsive need to fuck her like a caged beast. The sight of those thin wet panties slipping down her legs had my dick jumping and my mind on sensory overload. I wanted her so badly that my tongue was lapping at my lips like I could already taste her arousal just from the scent alone.

  Once I had the panties off, she watched me lift them to my nose and all but inhale them. There was no doubt in my mind that I had fibers from her panties floating around in my lungs.

  Without warning, I shoved until I backed her into the wall from my bent position and with my hungry tongue, licked up the soft, warm skin of her leg like a starved dog. The action set off a visible shiver in her body as I used the backs of my hands against her soft inner thighs to spread her legs open further.

  I bit deep into the inside of her left thigh, the nip making her push out a loud moan. The bite also made her pussy slicker, and a rush of liquid heat surfaced like the sticky-sweet juices squeezed from fresh fruit.

  When I guided my tongue closer to the heat source, I gripped her above the backs of her knees before lifting and positioning myself between them so that only her back was pressed against the wall. A deep groan bubbled up my throat when my starved tongue licked across her slick lower lips.

  “You’re so fucking wet. I love the way your sweet juices are pouring over my tongue,” I whispered against her as I leaned forward to lick at the essence flowing down her inner thigh. I realigned my face with her pussy before leaning into her flowing heat and allowing it to consume my lips and my mouth. A low possessive growl crawled from my chest before I inhaled a deep breath that allowed me to take in her heady scent.

  I backed away to look at the area that had my face wet, unable to help running my fingers between her lips. Back and forth and back again, I slid my fingers over her pussy, toying with her pulsing clit with my thumb. Her nails dug deeper into my shoulders as she shuddered, her head thrown back against the wall and rocking from side to side like I was delivering the gospel that was soaking into her spirit.

  “Fuck, I gotta have another taste. I want you all over my fucking tongue and all down my throat,” I groaned out my words as my quick breaths bounced off her pussy and made her gasp. The sexy, anxious sounds she made rushed out in quick pants as she teetered against the wall like her whole body had gone weak.

  I drew closer to secure her in place, my tongue ready, and my mind anticipating the moment her hot sex landed over my taste buds again. A fresh hot shot bloomed over my tongue, and there was no stopping the ravenous urge I had to eat her alive. She was like a sweet, hot fruity punch that I was i
nstantly addicted to.

  “Fuck, your pussy’s good,” I couldn’t help saying. “Mmm.” The flavor had me moaning in pleasure, the sound traveling along my skin and echoing through my dick. For the first time in my life, taste was a tool that sharpened my arousal. The shit had me iron hard.

  I raked my tongue across her lower lips before slipping it between them and finally curving it up and shoving it deep into her where the heat level scorched my taste buds. Once I had my tongue inside, I waved it, lapping at the quivering flesh that pressed against my tongue while my top lip kissed her clit.

  “Shit. That’s it!” she screamed as she managed to grip my hair, raking her nails through my scalp.

  She shoved the outer layers of her pussy against my chin and nose, taking advantage of more than my mouth. “Israel! Fuck! Oh!” She heaved out. “I need. I want. I’m—”

  She came hard, and I felt it all. The internal jerks pushing at my tongue, her sweet nectar flowing into my mouth, and her thighs quaking and knocking against the sides of my head as she fell apart. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and hotter than flames stolen from hell.

  She looked so fucking sexy, all laid back against the wall and spread open for me. Her parted mouth, tightly-shut eyes, and tensed and twitching muscles caused a satisfied smile to surface on my lips. The way her chocolate-tipped nipples tightened and her ample globes bobbed with the harsh push and pull of her breaths added fuel to my amped-up passion.

  Not giving her time to recover, I gripped one of her arms and shook it to get her to retract her nails from my shoulder so that I could ease her feet down to the floor. With a tight grip on her upper arm, I led her to the couch, steadying her swaying body.

  My finger was aimed at the spot I wanted her in, on the couch. “On your knees. Hold on to the couch back. Tightly. You’re going to need it,” I warned her. I walked around to the back of the couch to face her in the kneeling position she was in, preparing to give her a show by stripping my shirt off and tossing it at her.