by Shandi Boyes
“Is it classed as a sport, amore mio?” When she nods, I murmur, “Then I can play it.”
As we enter the swinging saloon doors, we bump into one of the smirking cowboys she referenced earlier. Except, he’s not a cowboy. He’s the interim cornerback for the 69ers, and he’s in such a hurry to leave, he sends Skylar toppling backward at a rate faster than I can catch her.
Chapter Sixteen
Skylar
Lorenzo does his best to save me, but I’ve barged too forcefully to avoid colliding with the ground. When my backside hits the cracked concrete with a thump, the smile I’ve been wearing all night vanishes. Tonight has been one glorious moment after another, but this is one incident I would have happily avoided. My ass is stinging, and we’re not going to mention the knock my ego is being hit with.
I thought the flashing of my panties would occur at the end of our fun-filled night. I had no idea it would happen smack bang in the middle of it. I wouldn’t have minded if Lorenzo and I were acting on the sexual chemistry that’s been crackling between us all night, but this is downright embarrassing.
I’m stunned I’ve been hit, but it’s nothing on the shock that rains down on me when the person responsible for knocking me over doesn’t attempt an apology. Joshua I-pee-my-pants Jones snickers as if hurting women is funny, his action a complete contradiction to how Lorenzo has treated me all evening. He opened my car door, offered me his jacket when it got chilly, and forever complimented me.
His chivalry wasn’t surprising. He gives off a swoony vibe, however, my body’s response to his valor was. I assumed I’d hate a possessive, alpha male since my dad is one. Lorenzo is making a quick liar out of me.
While Lorenzo helps me to my feet, Joshua bumps shoulders with one of the two men he’s with. I don’t recognize them, but if their broad shoulders and tall height are anything to go by, I wouldn’t be surprised to discover they’re football players as well.
Although the whiskey scent pumping out of Joshua reveals how he licked his wounds after his run-in with Percy, intoxication doesn’t excuse assholery. Drunk or not, if you knock someone over, the least you can do is offer an apology.
I don’t get that. I get insulted—again.
“What did I tell you, Slade? On her back within two-seconds of meeting you. All jersey sluts are the same.”
With my anger beyond reproach, Joshua is about to learn my early awakenings the past six months weren’t solely to perv on my boxing instructor, but before I get the chance, Lorenzo takes up my campaign to teach him some manners.
He pole-drives into him so powerfully, Joshua’s head cracks the drywall of a closed café next to the saloon. As Lorenzo throws his fists into Joshua’s face, stunning him, Slade and the unknown man step in to assist their friend.
By the scruff of Lorenzo’s shirt, Slade tosses Lorenzo off Joshua like he’s a ragdoll. I assume this will be the end of their fight since it’s three gigantic men against one not so gigantic man, but muscle-bound freaks aren’t known for their smarts.
While wiping away the blood seeping from his mouth, Joshua encourages his friends to crowd Lorenzo until he’s trapped in the alleyway at the side of the saloon. I’m about to shout for help, but before I can, a move I’ve only seen in action movies snatches my words out of my mouth.
Lorenzo gets an impressive amount of leverage from the ground before the tread of his shoes adds to the ugliness of Slade’s face. With Slade on his knees cradling a broken nose, Lorenzo’s focus shifts to the unnamed man. After buckling his legs out from beneath him with an impressive sweep kick, Lorenzo stuns him with a quick left, right, left jab combination to his face. His moves are a blend of mixed martial arts and the backyard brawling my brothers participate in every Thanksgiving.
He must have older siblings.
“Watch out!” I shout when Joshua tries to sneak up on Lorenzo unaware.
When Lorenzo rams his elbow back, Joshua’s eyes pop out of his head. With their heights starkly contradicting, Lorenzo’s jab landed right in Joshua’s nether regions, which sent a parroted “ouch” bellowing across the dusty lot.
I was so tied up having Lorenzo’s back, I didn’t realize his fight is being witnessed, much less live-streamed on social media. There are over a dozen cameras pointed at Lorenzo, and even more nosy-narks reporting the incident to the local sheriff’s office.
“It’s time for us to go, Shortie J.”
I might not know much about soccer, but from the number of admiring glances Lorenzo received tonight in the little unknown town we visited, it didn’t take me long to realize he has many fans. Some were happy to snap his picture from afar, however, more than a dozen approached him throughout our festivities. It had jealousy roaring through my veins before it settled in an area of my body that hasn’t stopped beeping all night.
When sirens overtake the thump of my pulse in my ears, I yank Lorenzo off Joshua, who’s having his face rearranged by Lorenzo’s fists. “Unless you want to spend the remainder of our date in a jail cell, Shortie J, we need to leave!”
The panic highlighting my tone leaps Lorenzo in action, much less the scuffling of feet as spectators swarm in to get a bird’s-eye view of the carnage one man created in a very short period.
I thought Lorenzo kissing a bear was impressive. That has nothing on this. He just took down three men almost double his size. I’m in complete awe, and my panties are drenched.
As blue and red lights flash in the distance, Lorenzo and I race to his sports car parked a few spots down. He jumps into the driver’s seat like a real-life action figurine, whereas I open the door and slide like my feet are made out of concrete. A skydiver I went jumping with last year said backed-up orgasms weigh a ton, but this is ridiculous.
Lorenzo skids out of the lot at a speed too fast to be safe, but mercifully, our departure occurs ten seconds before the sirens we’re avoiding echo off the massive wooden beams of the saloon.
After ensuring we’re not being followed, my eyes drift to Lorenzo. I can’t see my pupils, but I can picture how wide they are. I’m so hyped with adrenaline, I won’t need Ritalin to study for the finals. At this rate, I doubt I’ll sleep for a month.
“You took on three grown-ass men all because one knocked me on my ass.” I sound shocked. Justly so. I am. Jethro, my eldest brother, stepped up to the plate to wield the protective bat a handful of times when I skidded from awkward middle schooler to blossoming senior, but this is the first time in my adult life I’ve had someone defend me, much less twice in the one day.
“No,” Lorenzo murmurs, his eyes shifting from the road to me. “I took on one man. His friends were merely in my way.”
My laugh switches the dynamic between us in an instant. It goes from shocked to needy faster than I can snap my fingers. Sexual chemistry has been roasting between us all night, so you can imagine how tense it is after being boosted with a massive shot of adrenaline.
“Pull over.”
Lorenzo glances at me as if I’m insane. His surprise is understandable. We’re not being followed by the police, but we are in the middle of nowhere.
“The cabin is over an hour’s drive away. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to wait that long to test our compatibility, so I’m more than happy to settle for a sweaty car romp.”
He flashes me a grin before pulling into a familiar street on the right. “Follow this road to the T intersection at the end, then take another right. Half a mile down is a mining quarry that was shut down years ago.” My instructions are jutted by me bending down to unlatch the buckle on my heels. I’m so toey, I don’t want a single thing slowing me down when we reach our destination.
It appears as if Lorenzo is just as eager. As soon as he pulls into the vacant lot of the debunked mine, he yanks back his seat as if his legs are as long as Elvis’s, tugs me onto his lap, then ravishes my mouth.
Our kiss starts at a PG-13 rating before it quickly shifts to X-rated. Just like our first kiss, he woos me with a perfect amount
of speed, control, and spit. He kisses me with everything he has like lightning cracking through dark clouds after a hot and humid day.
Sparks fly, hands creep, and moans initiate one of the sexiest kisses I’ve ever had.
In no time at all, I’m on the verge of climax. A kiss shouldn’t evoke such a frantic response from my body, but Lorenzo’s does. It’s too perfect for a lackluster response.
“Hai un sapore migliore di quello che ricordo, amore mio.”
My knees hug his thighs as excitement sparks through my body. “I don’t know what the hell you’re saying, Shortie J, but if you don’t quit talking to me in Italian, I’m going to make a fool of myself.”
His lips raise against my mouth before he peppers my jaw with kisses. When his attention drops to my neck, a hearty hum vibrates my lips. He suckles the skin there, marking me in a way I’ve always found sexy.
I’ve always loved the idea of being claimed, it’s just never happened.
Although the confines of Lorenzo’s car are a tight squeeze, they’re not squishy enough he can’t slide his hand up my thigh and under the flare of my dress. He inhales sharply when he tests the dampness of my panties. I’m embarrassingly wet but too horny to care.
I don’t need to slither my hand between us to confirm he is as turned on as me. The rocking of my hips confirms every whim of my body. He’s thick and heavy beneath me, the enormity of his cock barely contained in his trousers.
A moan vibrates his chest when I mimic the movements of his hips, thrusting against him. I drag my aching sex down his hardened shaft before the need to undress him bombards me. After yanking his button-up shirt out of his trousers, I work on his belt and zipper.
As the hiss of metal takes over our combined purrs, Lorenzo shreds my panties off my body. His dominance unleashes a side of me I haven’t seen in years—the confident, I’m-not-ashamed-to-get-what-I-need side.
I slide my hand into his trousers, grip his impressively thick cock, then give it a long, determined stroke. “I need you inside me, Shortie J.”
“It will be my pleasure, amore mio.”
With one hand on my hip, he lifts me off his lap before tugging his trousers over his backside and halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock.
My eyes bulge out of my head. “Jesus. Call off the search party, we found your missing inches.”
His smile makes me hot all over. “Spread wider for me. I don’t want you to miss a single inch.”
Although my body jumps to the command in his tone, which is a hard feat considering our chosen location to get freaky, my head isn’t entirely swamped by a lust cloud. “You’re not going to put it all in, are you? Just the tip… right?”
Lorenzo stops coating the crown of his womb-damaging cock with the wetness between my legs to peer up at me. “Just the tip?”
He crams in the first inch of his cock before dragging it back out. I had no clue how good an inch felt until it was delivered with an impressive amount of girth.
“Still only want the tip, amore mio?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer him. He just slides back in, two inches this time. “Or do you think you can handle a few more?”
“More. I can definitely handle more.” My voice is as rough as his—husky and brimming with need.
With his eyes locked on mine, Lorenzo rocks his hips upward, giving me three inches.
Then four.
Then five.
By the time we reach eight, we’re hitting a steady rhythm. We’re not clawing at each other like wild animals. It is a slow-fuck that gives my pussy time to adjust to both his girth and length.
“Ti senti così bene.”
The wobble of my thighs is heard in my reply, “English, Lorenzo.”
He doesn’t grace me with a reply, he merely silences me with another two inches.
His slow pace teases me for several long minutes. He never entirely gives me his all, but his mouthwatering thrusts elicit more than husky moans from my body. My pussy is throbbing, the tightening of my womb both pleasurable and tormenting.
Several steamy minutes later, I meow, “Please, Lorenzo. I need more.”
“That’s it, amore mio, beg for me to fuck you harder,” he growls, deepening his thrusts. “Tell me how much you want this, how you want all of my cock.” His eyes collide with mine. They’re darker than they were earlier. “All of me.”
“I want all of you,” I beg, my cries frantic. “Please.”
He spreads my thighs by expanding his before raising his ass off the seat. After gripping the back of my neck, he slams me down, stuffing inches upon inches of glorious cock inside me.
I call out, the sensation of being filled to the brim too glorious for a half-hearted response. “Yesss.”
Skin slapping skin booms around the interior of his car as we fuck like wild animals. Every perfect pump has my mind spiraling with pleasure. I ride him as much as he pounds into me. The friction is delicious, and it soon has me chasing release. I’m sizzling all over, equally mesmerized by his skill and sensitized by the closeness of his ridiculously handsome face.
As I grind my clit against the formidable ‘V’ every girl fantasizes about but are rarely lucky to use, Lorenzo tugs down the front of my dress. The growl he releases when my breasts are exposed to his avid eyes is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m not going to mention how his bloody knuckles have me on the verge of climax.
I believed short men were incapable of protecting their women.
How wrong was I?
After dragging the stubble on his chin over my bouncing globes of flesh, Lorenzo draws one of my peaked nipples into his mouth. Although his focus is on my chest, his thrusts don’t slacken in the slightest. He licks me, tastes me, and fucks me like he was born to do it, and I’m electrified all over from his devotion.
“I’ve dreamed about these tits multiple times the past month,” he growls while going from my left breast to my right. “But they’re even better than I remembered.”
I’d respond to his praise if talking weren’t above my caliber right now. Nothing but moans are leaving my mouth, and they’re garbled by lust clutching my throat. The sensation is so overwhelming, even with Lorenzo’s hand in my hair using it as leverage to lift me on and off his cock, my head flops back so my eyes can taper shut.
As I sprint toward the finish line, sweat coats every inch of my skin. I’m hot all over, certain I’ve never been fucked as well as I am right now.
“Look at me, amore mio.”
I shake my head, my lungs too breathless for words.
Lorenzo firms his grip in my hair before commanding me to look at him once more.
“I want this to last. I can’t do that and look at you. I’m not a god.”
I feel his cock throb a mere second before his lips circle my nipple. I call out in an erotic cry when he tugs on the pink bud with force. The pain of his bite forces my eyes to his, more to investigate why my body responded with excitement instead of fear.
When our eyes lock and hold, the shudders sparking through every inch of me get the better of me. I come with a wild cry, tightening and quivering around him as I milk his cock for the cum I want coating the walls of my pussy.
I can’t look away, my eyes are tethered to his, needing the tranquil gleam in them to assure me I didn’t just make a mistake. It should be a terrifying few minutes, but instead, it’s mesmerizing.
I’m barely coherent when Lorenzo’s pumps return to the slow, leisured pace they were doing earlier. “Again. I want to feel you come on my cock again.”
My breathing shortens as I shake my head. “I can’t. I’m a starfish girl. One orgasm and I’m star-fishing the mattress while salty liquid spills from my orifices.”
Laughter would usually spike my hackles, but I’m too spent to let it bother me tonight. And we won’t mention how Lorenzo’s adjustment of my hips has the crest of his cock hitting the sweet spot inside me.
“You’ve got more than one orgasm in you, amore mio.” He
guides me up and down his cock, sparking a new set of excitement to skate across my skin. “At a guess, I say you have at least three.”
His hand clutching my hip brushes my stomach as it makes it way to the bud aching as if it didn’t just achieve release. My hips naturally gyrate when his thumb circles my clit. I wasn’t lying when I said I’m a one-and-done fucker. However, Lorenzo’s dedication to show me a better way has me wondering if my lack of interest is more because no guy has ever made me come more than once. Perhaps I do have three orgasms in me, I just don’t know it.
“Yes, amore mio, ride me,” Lorenzo growls when my Jell-O legs finally follow the prompts of my lust-fried brain. “Show me how much you love my dick. Fuck me as I’ve dreamed about fucking you since the night we met.”
His magnificent six-pack contracts when I brace my hands on the soft-top lining of his convertible before increasing the speed of my rocks. His moans are the hottest thing on earth, especially when added to the gleam his eyes get from watching his cock pump in and out of my glistening slit.
Our pace picks up quickly—as do the dirty words Lorenzo speaks. Half of them I don’t understand since their spoken in Italian, but the ones I do are enough to detonate the grenade in my womb.
His filthy mouth sends me spinning into a spiral of lust. I moan a hoarse groan, both shocked by the intensity of my orgasm and pleased to have achieved it. As I coat Lorenzo’s shaft with additional evidence of how brilliant his cock is, he continues rocking into me.
A sexy murmur escapes his lips when I tighten the walls of my vagina around him, once again begging to milk his cock of cum. It’s an intimate moment that shouldn’t occur between two strangers, but it’s highly anticipated when you’re endeavoring to unravel someone as well as they’ve unraveled you.
“Do it, Shortie J. Come inside me.”
His hips jackknife on repeat, his breaths uneven. The heaves of his chest reveal he likes me whispering dirty thoughts into his ear as much as he loves my heat circling his cock.