Eating Asphalt (Sacred Hearts MC Pacific Northwest Book 5)

by A. J. Downey

  I wrapped my legs around him and didn’t feel an ounce of fear that he would drop me or anything like that. He lifted me easily and pressed us together where it counted, and I wanted to die all over again.

  God, how long had it been?

  Too long.

  He reached next to us, supporting me against the house, and twisted the knob, pushing the front door inward on smoothly oiled hinges, which at least there was that.

  I tore my mouth from his and murmured, “Marc—”

  “He’s old enough,” Jared growled. “He hears anything, he’ll keep it to himself.”

  I smirked.

  “You don’t know my kid.”

  He grinned and reached up with his mouth and ordered, “Hold on to me,” as I lowered mine to meet his. I held on to him, and he backed me away from the wall and propelled us both forward through my front door, carelessly kicking it shut behind us. He carried me bodily through the house and into my room, kicking that door shut behind us too before tossing me down on the bed.

  I bounced laughing and halfway sat up, his hands pushing the denim jacket I hadn’t worn since high school off of my shoulders and halfway down my arms, trapping them at my sides. He climbed over me, putting one knee to the edge of the bed near my hip and smiling down at me. He murmured playfully, “I’ve got you now.”

  I felt my breath rush from my lungs and asked, “Now what are you going to do?”

  His playful expression sobered some and grew very solemn and very serious all of a sudden.

  “Whatever I want,” he answered. You would think such words said in such a way would chill me to the very bone but it had exactly the opposite effect. I felt my body heat from the inside out by several degrees, as though his rough voice and murmured promises cranked my thermostat.

  “Why does that sound so hot coming from you?” I asked as he leaned in close.

  “Because I’m me?” he asked, and his voice held an edge of teasing to it that made me smile.

  “I’ve certainly never met anyone quite like you.” I whispered the confession.

  “And you never will,” he said. “I’m one of a kind, baby.”

  Now that, I could believe. I said as much and he grinned at me, his mouth the barest inch from my own as he leaned over me, my arms still trapped.

  “You nervous?” he asked.

  I blinked stupidly for a moment and confessed, “Yes.”

  “Mm.” He leaned past my lips and his own tickling the hair by my ear, his breath sliding down the side of my neck in a warm, tingling rush. He said, “Don’t be nervous.”

  I rolled my eyes at first in exasperation, but then his lips caressed the lobe of my ear and a second later, his teeth, hard edged and sharp, skimmed the side of my neck and my eyes rolled back for an entirely different reason. I shuddered, the rippling sensation of light airy tingles radiating from the erogenous zones he plied with expert effect in a tingling rush over my shoulder. It went down my arm, and across my back beneath my jacket, under my thin and well-fitted tee, and even beneath the constriction of my bra beneath that.

  So many layers, too many layers did he cut through with that one, light, barely there graze of his teeth and I almost couldn’t deal with how my body responded.

  You’d like to think I was some kind of virgin sitting here!

  I didn’t have long to allow my nerves to take over and shut me down. Jared’s lips were working along my jawline and capturing mine again. Every time he kissed me like this, my God, I just… I just couldn’t hold on to a single thought, a single worry or care and it was so instantly addictive.

  He backed off and let me sit up, taking my jacket from me and letting it fall to the floor. With my hands suddenly free, I could reach for him, and I did, eagerly, catching his face between my hands, the stubble along his jaw rough against my palms as he came in for another kiss, which I offered up to him more than willingly.

  His tongue swept against mine, sure and true, and I melted into his embrace. He advanced on me, personal space a thing of the past, thrusting a thigh between my legs and up against me, our jeans separating us still, but damn. Just the feel of his muscular thigh against me there, where honestly, no one had gone for what felt like ages was so hot. I felt as though my panties were going to catch fire at any moment.

  His hands swept down my body to the hem of my tee and obediently and without any thought, I raised my arms and let him sweep it up off over my head. He threw it down on my bedroom floor, his hands going to my hips as he leaned back and took me in. His eyes roving over my chest in its pushup bra, his gaze sparkled with appreciation.

  “Look at you,” he breathed, and it was the same sort of awe and reverence reserved for discovering some ancient treasure, not for the likes of me.

  The effect his words and his tone caused me to practically glow, and effervescence I hadn’t felt for a very long time swept through me to the point I felt lighter than air as I shoved his jacket with its leather vest over it back off of his shoulders.

  He tossed his jacket and the vest on top of my dresser behind him and without my prompting, grabbed the back of his tee between his shoulders and hauled it over his head in that way that guys just did and holy smokes was it hot. Watching his muscles flex was a treat and I bit my bottom lip as he dropped the tee to my floor and practically dove in for another kiss.

  We lay back in a tangle of limbs, tongues twisting around one another, lips pressed, hands wandering over exposed skin, pressing and massaging. His hands delved beneath me from where he lay over the top of me and with a snap of his fingers, my bra came unhooked. I laughed as the band practically sighed with relief around me and he swept everything efficiently from my arms, almost magically making the elastic and lace disappear.

  It was immediately replaced with the warmth of his skin as he hitched my thighs higher around his hips and pressed our lower halves together. I could feel him hot, an iron rod through our jeans as he pressed me into the rumpled covers of my bed, his mouth stealing my enthusiastic cry of surrender. He echoed the sentiment with a satisfied mm, as though tasting the sound and finding it delectable.

  He let his hands glide over my skin, his touch warm and firm, sweeping over my body, memorizing every plane, every curve, every goosebump, scar, or imperfection by touch, learning me by braille, the effect intimate and so pure.

  I likewise let my hands wander over his hard body; the muscle carved from hard work rather than time spent at the gym, over knobs and hard ridges of muscle and bone, his body so hot, so warm beneath my touch. I loved that. It made me want to press more of myself against him.

  He leaned into me, his capable hands pressed behind my knees, bending me in half, the position leaving me vulnerable and feeling exposed despite the fact I was still clothed from the waist down. He leaned up and let my legs down, his hands going for my waistband, and I watched him curiously.

  He watched me right back as his hands moved, unfastening things, unzipping others. Finally, slipping shoes and socks off my feet, he peeled me out of my jeans and panties beneath in one fluid motion, dropping them to the floor and kneeling over me, sweeping with those intense hazel eyes.

  I covered my chest out of – well, I don’t really know why, and he frowned slightly.

  “Don’t you ever cover those perfect tits of yours when we’re alone like this,” he ordered, and I immediately dropped my arms to my sides. “That’s a good girl,” he said and went for his belt.

  Holy shit.

  He shucked himself out of his own jeans and the tightly clinging boxer briefs beneath them efficiently and I all but held my breath. He was… he was definitely more well-endowed than I was used to but considering I had ever only been with my husband, that wasn’t saying much.

  He kneeled at the edge of the bed and smoothed his hands up and down the tops of my thighs before hooking his arms beneath my knees. I yelped in surprise as he dragged me bodily toward him, leaving my butt hanging slightly over the edge of the mattress.

  “What ar
e you doing?” I asked breathless with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty.

  “Having my dessert,” he said, and he literally hooked my knees over his powerful shoulders and without any more preamble, thrust his tongue against my sex, teasing my pussy lips apart and suckling over my clit.

  “Ohhh, God!” My voice was strangled with surprise and I lay back and let him do whatever he wanted.

  He chuckled deeply and my hips jerked slightly at the tickling sensation the vibrations from that laugh sent through me.

  He worked me expertly and nearly had me coming before he ever even slipped a finger inside of me.

  “Oh!” I arched, gripping fistfuls of the blankets and sheets beside my hips and he hummed in satisfaction against me, adding a second finger to the first, meeting no resistance, gliding through my wetness and Lord I was wet. I was wetter than I could ever remember being. I panted as he felt around inside me, and I let out a strangled cry when he touched something particularly sensitive. Pleasure rippled out from that place, and he stared up my body, watching my face as he swished his finger over the spot again to make sure. I was only vaguely aware of my eyes rolling into the back of my head as I panted. With another devious chuckle, he had lowered his mouth to my body once more.

  Oh, God! The feel of his mouth on my clit, tongue gently teasing, as his fingers swept over that spot inside me… it was almost too much. No, it was way too much! Before I knew it, I was caught in a riptide of pleasure that swept me out from the safety of the shore and dragged me under mercilessly, sweeping me down and spinning me until I didn’t know up from down or what was touching me inside from the outside. I cried out, panting, gasping as though I couldn’t get my breath, drowning in whatever he was doing to me.

  The bubbles swept against my skin, goosebumps rising on my skin in their wake. I couldn’t identify if I was hot or chilled and I shuddered and shook as though a very real current ran through me. I experienced a complete loss of control as he refused to stop, refused to let me up, even though I frantically slapped and then pushed against his shoulders. Just when I thought it would never end and when I was on the verge of complete panic, he let up, chuckling with this smug, self-satisfaction as he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and chin, rubbing my essence away.

  I lay back, limp and panting, overloaded, as he rose.

  “You on birth control?” he asked.

  What?

  I nodded dumbly, and he smiled.

  “You want me to put a condom on?”

  My mind flashed briefly to how quickly and expertly he had released my bra without looking, and only one-handed, and I had the presence of mind – just barely – to nod again.

  He turned back to his jacket on the dresser and rooted in a pocket, pulling out a silver foil square and tearing it open with his teeth.

  He watched me watch him with a heated gaze as he rolled the latex over his considerable girth and down his equally considerable length.

  “Get up on the bed,” he ordered, and I pushed myself back up onto the mattress where he would have enough room to join me. He moved over me like a panther – movement controlled, eyes fixed on me in a gaze that was equal parts predatory and victorious, and I have to say, nothing about either of those things exactly turned me off. Quite the opposite was in effect, actually. My lady parts tingled with anticipation as he laid me flat and nudged my thighs apart with his knees.

  He kissed me hot and heavy as he settled over the top of me, and I silently sighed out in blissful surrender.

  It had been too long… far too long, and I felt as though I had wasted so much time trying to make things work. In hindsight, I had been the only one trying.

  “Stop that,” he ordered briskly.

  “Stop what?” I asked, confused.

  “Thinking about him when you’re with me,” he said. “No offense, darlin’, but he treated you like shit and I’m not about that. Let his ghost go and join the land of the living.”

  He smoothed my hair back from my face and his expression was one of tenderness. I nodded, tears pricking the backs of my eyes at how deftly he dealt with the situation, efficiently laying my memories down and picking up the good. He wasn’t being hurtful, he wasn’t trying to be a dick, he was just… I don’t know what, but there wasn’t any malice or selfishness in how he spoke. He communicated as much without words as he did with them.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured, and he smiled and shook his head.

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” he whispered and kissed me sweetly.

  I closed my eyes and let myself go then – let a lot of things go – and just sank into the moment with relief.

  God, I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve a man as strong and as present as Jared was in the moment.

  His body moved against mine and I whimpered slightly. If he only knew how much I wanted him to be inside me at this very moment. How much I wanted to feel good. How much I wanted him to feel good.

  He slipped inside me, startling me at first, my hips giving a little jerk of surprise. He put a hand to my hip and stilled, meeting my eyes with his, silently checking with me. With a slight nod from me, he slid in against me a little further and oh, God; it was pure fucking nirvana.

  He hummed out in purest pleasure and lifted my leg over his hip, thrusting in just a little bit deeper, and I clapped my hands over my mouth to keep from crying out too loudly. He chuckled then and rolled his hips just so against mine, and I swear my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

  We fell into this glorious rhythm that evoked feelings and sensations in me that I don’t think I had ever felt before. It was somewhere between floating down a pure river of bliss and flying on little air currents of ecstasy.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around him too as he thrust deep, carefully and slowly. He bowed his head and grabbed fistfuls of my hair, tipping my head back and demanded in a low, sexy, dirty tone, “You like that? Hm?”

  “Yeah.” My voice was breathy and high, almost unrecognizable.

  “You want me to give you this dick?” he asked. “You want me to come back here and fill you up like this once a week?” he demanded.

  Holy shit. Ben had never talked to me like that, and it was so… so hot.

  “Yes!” I gasped and clung to him harder.

  “You want me to fuck you like this every time?”

  “Mm-hm!”

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “Yeah!”

  He turned up the volume to his pace, thrusting both harder and faster and I lived for it. He grinned, pulling my head back, but it didn’t hurt. No, I don’t know how he had his hold on it, but it didn’t hurt at all. It just didn’t allow for me to go anywhere. I felt wholly at his mercy and goddamnit, I was overjoyed to be there because as wild, on the edge, and just plain deliciously dirty as Jared fucking me felt? It also felt safe.

  I knew in my very bones, by the look in his eyes, that he had me, that I wasn’t going anywhere, and by the same token, he wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to me. He was in perfect control, and I was pleased to let him have it. To not be the decision maker for once. To cede control and to just let things happen and to just be for the time being.

  God, it felt so fucking good, so damn… cathartic.

  14

  Glass Jaw…

  I can’t even describe how good she felt wrapped around my cock. Shit, wrapped around all of me. How her legs wound around my waist, how her arms went around my neck and shoulders. She twined around me like some kind of kinky, flowering vine and I carefully and sweetly pushed my luck to see how far down the rabbit hole her submissiveness went.

  I tangled my hands in the back of all that rich, long, mahogany hair of hers, the strands like fucking silk against my palms and between my fingers. I got snug and tight up against her scalp and fisted her long locks, not pulling per se, but definitely locking shit in place so I had the control. She gave this throaty moan of surrender and I almost nutted right then and there. It was
everything I had in me not to blow my load too soon.

  “You like that?” I asked her, my voice raw with need, with how much I desired her.

  “Mm!” It took her a second to form a coherent thought and I definitely liked that – the effect I had on her when she finally made up her mind and went with yes, her hum of appreciation sweet as she went, “Mm-hm!”

  “Yeah?” I demanded. I wanted this shit clear as day, black and white, no gray area.

  “Yeah!” she cried.

  I plunged deep and deeper still into her sweet wet heat and reveled in it, in her, fully. She was all softness and silk under me, and I gathered her to me like a treasured living flame.

  The way she moved underneath me was intoxicating – the way she arched into me, the way she held onto me, the way when I hit and rode over that sweet spot her nails dug into my arms slightly.

  I was just beginning to unlock all of her secrets, one by one – which angle worked best, pace, rhythm, how deep, how long, how slow, how fast, how short on the stroke – experimenting to find the right combination of things to make her come. I wanted to bring her to that pinnacle screaming, then I wanted to go and do it again and again until she was too exhausted and satisfied to do anything other than come for me, sighing.

  I wanted all her secrets. I wanted to test every position and see what pleasures I could bring her, and I was dead serious that we weren’t leaving this bed until I had thoroughly rocked her fucking world, tilting it on an axis she’d never even dreamed possible.

  I started slow, gave myself somewhere to go, and I loved how just talking to her evoked such clear and positive responses.