Midnight Lust: A Midnight Riders Motorcycle Club Romance Part 2

by Olivia Thorne

  Jack stared at me. “Really. Just how ‘checkered’ are we talking about?”

  “…uh… drug shit. Back when I was a teenager. I’ve cleaned up my act since then, but, um… cops and I don’t mix.”

  “Why didn’t you mention any of this the other night?” he asked darkly.

  “I… wanted to get laid?”

  He laughed. “Well, that’s a good reason – but I was talking about before that. When I wanted to get laid, and you weren’t quite so cooperative.”

  Think, Fiona. THINK.

  “Remember that person I lost?” I asked. “My cousin?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I got her into drugs. I cleaned up… she never did. And I blame myself. That’s why I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Total bullshit, but I deserved an Oscar for my delivery.

  Although… since I still blame myself for not being there for Ali, and for not being able to save her… the feelings behind the words were pretty much the same.

  Jack looked at me for a long while, then nodded somberly. “Okay.” He turned to Kade. “What do you think?”

  “There’s more than enough witnesses,” the Viking said neutrally. “The cops don’t need one more.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said absently, and went back to drinking his coffee.

  What struck me through all of this was how absurd the conversation was. There was no need for witnesses period, since nobody was going to get convicted of any crime. The gunman was most probably dead, and whoever killed him was beyond the law’s reach.

  Despite all my anger at the hitman, that last thought sent a shiver down my spine.

  “Alright, here’s how we’re going to play it. Kade, you get back down to the Seven Veils and give your account to the cops. After all, you called in the 911, they’re going to be looking for you.”

  “What do I say when they ask where I went?”

  “You went to go chase down the asshole, just like the rest of us. After you’re finished with the cops, which will probably take the rest of the night, go find out how Benjy is. Do we know that yet?”

  “No.”

  “Let me know as soon as you do. I’ll fill you in on the rest tomorrow morning. Right now I gotta drop Fiona off at her motel and do some heavy thinking.”

  Kade nodded and stood. “You got it.”

  “Thanks, brother.”

  They hugged, slapping each other’s backs, and then Kade walked out.

  Jack and I were alone.

  18

  “I don’t want to go back to my motel tonight,” I blurted out.

  He smiled. “I can’t understand why,” he teased me gently.

  “Is it… is it okay if I stay here?”

  “Of course it is.”

  He walked around the kitchen island towards me. But rather than a passionate kiss, he just enveloped me in his arms and cradled my head to his chest.

  I have never felt so safe and cared for in my entire life.

  I’m a tough chick. Or at least, I like to fancy myself that way. I’d done a lot of gritty P.I. work. I’d basically always looked out for myself. And a year ago, I’d lost the person closest to me in the world, in the worst way imaginable.

  But tonight had rattled my cage. I’d come face-to-face with my own mortality. I’d seen a man gunned down in cold blood.

  All the adrenaline I’d been surviving on stopped, and I suddenly crashed.

  I didn’t want to do it… I hated myself for being weak… but I began to cry into Jack’s chest.

  He didn’t say a thing. He just held me tighter, kissed me gently on top of my head, and stroked my hair soothingly.

  Truth to tell, it surprised me. I thought I’d spent all my tears on Ali’s death.

  Guess there were a few in me I still didn’t know about.

  After a couple of minutes, I pulled back and wiped my eyes. “Sorry.”

  “For what? Being human?”

  I remembered that he didn’t see me as a tough-ass P.I. out here to investigate her cousin’s death. No, he saw me as a waitress in a bar. A regular chick. There wasn’t any need for me to be tough.

  But it was such a deep part of my personality, I couldn’t let it go. Not even deep undercover.

  “I thought I was tougher than that,” I murmured.

  “You should start worrying for your soul when a night like tonight doesn’t shake you up.”

  I looked into his gorgeous blue eyes. “Did it shake you up?”

  “More than I’d like to admit.”

  He gave me a wistful smile, then leaned in for a kiss. Not like last night, full of uncontained passion, but something sweeter… and darker. A kiss that comforted me, yet reminded me how we’d both cheated death.

  We stayed like that for almost a full minute, kissing in slow motion, until finally he pulled away.

  “Come on,” he said, his voice weary. “Let’s go to sleep.”

  19

  We got into bed. He wore his boxers and nothing else; I shucked off all my clothes in the bathroom and came out in one of his oversized wifebeaters. It came down to the tops of my thighs but barely stayed on my shoulders.

  We lay there in the darkness – him on his back staring up the ceiling, me on my side, staring at him.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered after a few minutes of silence.

  “No, I’m pretty far from okay,” he said, though his voice was gentle.

  “Something really bad happened out there, didn’t it.”

  “I can’t tell you that, Fiona. And I need you not to ask about it anymore.”

  “Okay.”

  He was quiet for another minute, then he said, “Tell me about your cousin.”

  Alarms went off in my head and gut. “What?”

  “Your cousin, the one you lost… what was her name?”

  Oh God, oh God, oh God –

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know… you asked me this morning about somebody I lost… and I might have just lost Benjy… maybe even the whole fucking motorcycle club.” He shrugged. “Misery loves company, I guess.”

  Time to start cataloguing lies.

  “Anna.”

  Anna was my mother’s name. Easy to remember, at least.

  “What happened to her? Was it an overdose?”

  “…yes.”

  “Heroin?”

  “…yes. Why?”

  “The club used to sell heroin, back in the day… before I took over. That was one of the first things we got out of. That was one thing I didn’t want on my conscience. Hell, there’s a lot of things I didn’t want on my conscience. I just… I wanted to try to be a good person, you know? I was sick to death of losing friends. I was sick of seeing the destruction we were leaving in our wake. So I tried to change things. And I thought I did. I thought it was all in the past, that all of it was under control. But I was lying to myself. It was never under control. And underneath, I’m not sure how much it even changed. There was a knock at the door tonight, and all my sins were there on the doorstep, looking for payback.”

  He sounded so lost and despairing as he said it, my heart broke for him.

  “You’re a good man,” I said, and put my hand on his chest.

  “How would you know,” he whispered, his voice in agony. “You don’t know all the horrible things I’ve done.”

  “I know you left the bar tonight trying to stop them from killing somebody. Somebody who deserved to die. You put your life on the line to keep a bad man alive. You know who does that? A good man, that’s who. A good man does that.”

  He looked over at me in the moonlight shining through his window. “But I couldn’t…”

  He caught himself in time, and turned back to the ceiling.

  “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

  “I’m here for you if you want me,” I whispered.

  He looked over at me, and his eyes took in my body. I felt a warm flush in my skin everywhere his gaze paused.

  “I want you,
all right,” he said with a gentle grin, his voice hoarse.

  I smiled back. “What’s stopping you?”

  “You went through a lot tonight.”

  “So did you.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve been through the wringer before. I’ve seen a hell of a lot worse, just… not for years. You… I figured maybe you just needed a shoulder to cry on and a good night’s sleep.”

  “Or maybe I just want to forget for a while,” I whispered. “Maybe… we could both help each other forget.”

  His eyes locked on mine, and he rolled over on his side so that he was facing me. He cupped my face with his powerful hand and slowly, softly kissed me.

  I forgot everything else on earth for the next two hours.

  20

  We lay like that, side by side, for the next few minutes. Our lips pressed together and his tongue played gently over mine, sensually moving inside me.

  I let my hands trail slowly downwards, feeling the hard bulge of his biceps, the solidness of his powerful forearms. His hands roved over me, too, but softly, gently, tracing over the cotton shirt, toying with my hardening nipples, circling my breasts, caressing the curve of my ass up the slope of my back.

  As we continued to kiss – hot, wet, soft, sweet – I traced my fingers over his abs, feeling the individual muscles hard and distinct beneath his warm skin. I toyed with the slight thatch of hair at the waistband of his boxers… and then I moved further down.

  He wasn’t hard yet – not all the way, anyhow. And that’s how I wanted it. I wanted to feel him grow in my hand, the same way I had felt him grow in my mouth the night before.

  I reached into the flap of his boxers and pulled him out. His cock lolled there on my palm, firm and thick, heavy and full. I very lightly stroked him, almost tickling him with the pads of my fingertips. I could get my fingers all the way around him in an ‘O’ shape when he was soft, but he quickly began to expand and get harder. Within seconds the distance between my thumb and my fingers began to grow.

  As I stroked up, I was stopped by the ridge of his head, that firm slope where the crown of the cock ends and the shaft begins. I imagined feeling that hard, firm ridge inside me again, massaging my g-spot as he almost came out, then plunging back in…

  The thought of it made me drip with desire.

  He started kissing down my chin, then my throat, then my chest. I lost hold of his gorgeous cock, but I didn’t mind, because by this point he had pulled the straps of my wife-beater down over my shoulders and exposed my breasts.

  He put his lips over my left areola and began to suck greedily. I moaned and arched my back. I could feel his firm, thick cock between my lower thighs, and I rubbed the smooth skin of my legs across its massive surface, feeling it take up so much space there, aching for it to slide further up my legs and deep inside me.

  But instead of going up, he went down. After switching to the right nipple and licking it to a hardened nub, he pulled up the wifebeater and began kissing down my belly, past my navel, down to my neatly trimmed bush. I groaned and writhed as he parted my thighs, then put his mouth right on my hot, drenched lips.

  Oh Jesus he was good. He started light at first, little tickling brushes of his mouth over my pussy. Then he began to lick me, parting my lips with the hot, wet tip of his tongue, and trailing up slowly until he reached the top. Then he just stayed there, his tongue resting on my pulsing clit, refusing to do more as I thrust my hips against his mouth in frustration.

  Slowly, slowly, he began to circle my clit, pulling back my hood with his finger so his tongue could swirl all over. I gasped as he enveloped me with his lips and started to suck, just lightly enough to pull my clit out of hiding and into his mouth. Then he increased the pressure (and pleasure) by escalating degrees as his tongue slid wetly all over me.

  Then he backed off my clit and – without warning – plunged his tongue as deep inside me as he could. I almost cried out as I felt the tip of his tongue caressing my walls, lapping inside me. Then he came back out and used his mouth to envelope me completely – hood, clit, lips, and all – and began sucking gently as he ran his tongue over my hot, throbbing flesh.

  As he gradually went back to focusing on my clit, I felt something thicker and harder push apart my lips and ease inside me. His finger began to slowly stroke deep inside me, caressing my g-spot as he continued to suck and lick and play with my clit.

  Damn this guy knew how to go down on a woman.

  I felt the first flutters of orgasm building in my thighs and belly. It felt so good – that feeling of creeping up the rollercoaster, higher and higher, but instead of being scary it was all bliss, every inch up the mountain another inch closer to ecstasy –

  And then he stopped.

  Not just stopped licking and stroking, but completely withdrew.

  No touchin’, no lickin’, no skin to skin, no nothin’.

  I opened my eyes in disbelief. He’d taken me quivering to the edge of the precipice, with release only seconds away – and then he pulled it all out of reach, leaving me there to ache and throb and writhe in unfulfilled agony.

  He had pulled himself off me and was now standing beside the bed.

  “What are you doing?!” I cried out.

  “Don’t come,” he ordered in a low, dark voice.

  “Oh my God, come on,” I groaned. “Please – I’m almost there – just a few more seconds – ”

  “I said, don’t come,” he repeated as he bent down and shucked off his boxers.

  As he stood back up, I caught sight of his cock in all its glory. Thick and long, with a swollen head almost as big as the base. The shaft curved up slightly, tantalizingly, like it was made for stroking a woman’s g-spot with every thrust. Apparently going down on me had turned him on, because his crown was slick with pre-cum. A single dribble of it hung from the tip of his cock like a silver thread in the moonlight.

  Oh my GOD. If I had been close to coming before, I was right on the razor’s edge just looking at that magnificent beast.

  Suddenly he grabbed my ankles, pulled my legs apart, and spun me roughly around on the bed so that my pussy faced him. A thrill shot through me – the animalistic turn-on of being manhandled by an alpha male.

  He pressed on the tip of his cock, angling it down, and let the head stop just a centimeter away from my drenched lips.

  “I’m going to fuck you bareback… but first you’re going to beg me for it,” he growled.

  “No,” I gasped, but it was weak. It was an I’m a good girl and I’m not supposed to do that ‘no,’ not an I don’t want to do that ‘no.’

  Because what I really wanted to say was HELL YES.

  “I’m clean. I got tested, and I haven’t been with anybody else since,” he said. “You?”

  “I’m – I’m clean,” I gasped, watching that thick, pulsing head just millimeters away from sinking deep inside me.

  “Then beg me for it,” he whispered.

  “I don’t… please… I need to come so bad – ”

  “Beg me for it,” he demanded.

  To torture me even more, he touched the wet tip of his cock to my labia. It wasn’t enough to make me come, but I could feel the electricity, the hot liquid dam of orgasm about to break through.

  “Just make me come,” I groaned.

  “First, beg me to fuck you,” he growled.

  I couldn’t hold back anymore. I wanted it too badly. I would have done anything he asked, just to be able to come –

  And to come with that massive, gorgeous cock inside me.

  “Please,” I moaned. “Please fuck me, please fuck me – ”

  And with that, he pushed the head of his cock between my aching lips.

  It was heaven. Not latex, not plastic, but wet human skin on skin. Like silk compared with burlap, like full-on fucking compared with just watching porn.

  The first wave of orgasm slammed through me like a hurricane. I screamed as I felt my whole lower body erupt in ecstasy, my thighs vibrating, my pussy
quivering, my body trembling. Contraction after contraction, crest after crest rolled through me like ocean waves.

  But he kept pushing deeper, easing himself inside me… and my orgasm followed suit.

  I started coming deeper – much deeper inside me – the depths of my body following the contours of his cock as he pushed inside me, easing his swollen head up inside my most secret places. My vision went white for a second and the whole room disappeared, and there was nothing but the feeling of his cock filling me up, more than I’d ever been filled in my entire life, flooding me with pleasure, with life, with elemental maleness, with orgasm.

  I moaned and bucked and writhed under him – and still he kept sliding inside me, wet, slick, his massive girth widening my lips, pressing against every interior inch of me, causing me a delicious pain that was immediately overwhelmed by more pleasure.

  As I felt the last waves of my orgasm slowly dwindle away, all I knew is that I wanted more. I had to have more. I would do anything to have more. I would DIE without more.

  “Fuck me, please fuck me,” I moaned.

  He complied.

  Oh GOD did he comply.

  21

  He went reasonably slow at first, rocking back and forth, making sure his entire length was entirely wet from my juices.

  He pulled out almost all the way, so that just the tip of his cock was still inside me, leaving me aching for that thick, UNH sensation of being completely filled.

  Then he would slowly ease his way back in, satiating me for a few seconds until he slid back out.

  An unending cycle of depriving me and then overwhelming me with pleasure.

  There was one really good thing about him almost pulling out, though:

  I was right about that hard, firm ridge on the crown of his cock.

  It stroked my g-spot perfectly, like a kiss.

  A hard kiss, that is.

  Then, once he was drenched and slick from his base to his tip, he began to thrust.

  Medium-fast…

  Then faster…