Laying her down on the mattress, I throw off my cut, yank my T-shirt over my head and kick my jeans across the room. I allow myself one more glorious moment of staring at her fucking perfect body, her breasts rising and falling rapidly with her breathing. My hand goes to my thick cock to stroke it once, twice, but then I have to stop because I’m gonna lose control of myself if I don’t.
Instead, I kneel down on the bed and push her knees apart. The beautiful sight of Jenna’s pussy greets me, glistening and wet between her quivering thighs. Her breath hitches in her throat, her hips arching toward me. She knows what I’m about to do, and she wants it so bad she can hardly stand it. Even so, I take my time, slowly letting my breathing tease her inner thighs until she’s whimpering in frustration. Then, finally, I push my tongue inside her, then lap slowly upwards until I’ve caressed her entire sex with my tongue.
Jenna shudders, and whispers something that might be a word. I could make her come in seconds, but I know I have to make it last for her. I lick and stroke at her folds, avoiding the most sensitive part, helping her climb higher and higher. She clutches at the sheets, her legs fall wider, her thighs tensing. I can feel from the motion of the mattress that her head is thrashing back and forth. The jewel of her clit is hard and pulsing, and finally, finally, when I know she can’t take any more, I slide my lips over it and suck it gently into my mouth, worshiping it with my tongue as she cries out sharply and arches off the bed. Jenna shakes and bucks, and I hold her hips there and draw out her orgasm, licking her as she peaks again and again.
Finally, when she starts to quiet, I push myself up and grab my wallet from my jeans. I roll a condom onto my throbbing cock, then slide my head against the slick opening of her channel. My eyes roll shut. Holy fuck, that’s good. I suppress a groan, knowing I’m not going to be able to slow myself down much. I need her now. I’ve waited long enough.
I push myself inside her, my jaw clenching against the pleasure. Jenna parts her lips and I hear her whisper. This time I can make it out: “Yes.” I pull out, then press in again, deeper, until I’m completely inside. Slowly, as slowly as I can stand it, I start to move, thrusting exquisitely and trying to make it last as long as I can. Jenna moves with me, arching her hips to meet me, and soon my cock starts to swell, my balls heavy with seed. Then Jenna cries out again, shuddering, and it sends me over the edge. I empty myself deep inside her with a shout, the orgasm so intense I lose my breath for a second. I’ve told myself over the years that I’d exaggerated the memory of how good sex was with Jenna but I know now that I was wrong, it’s never been like this with any other woman. Spasm after spasm rocks me, and when it’s over I’m bracing myself on her thighs, almost dizzy from the force of it.
Jesus fuck.
That’s when I make the decision: Jenna is staying here tonight. And I’m not letting her out of my sight until we do that again. And again.
17
Jenna
I must have fallen asleep for a little bit, because when I wake up, it’s to find Cas climbing back into bed with me.
“Ugh,” I groan, stretching my arms out wide. “I should probably get going.”
“Nope,” he corrects me. “You’re staying right here.”
“Cas,” I sigh. “I have to get back to Noah.”
“Taken care of.” He pulls up the covers and gathers me into his arms. “I just got off the phone with Jewel. She’s more than happy to stay the night at your place with him.”
“But I —”
“It’s settled,” he says firmly, interrupting me. I open my mouth to protest again, but he gives me a look that’s both stern and sexy, so I stop.
I shouldn’t let Jewel do this, even though I’m sure she’ll take good care of my son. I should get back to Noah.
But God, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to feel like anything but a mom and, frankly, a cash-poor loser.
It’s been so long since I’ve just felt like a woman. A sexy, desirable woman, even. And the way Cas Watkins looks at me, the way he touches me — I realize it’s something I’ve been needing so much, for way, way too long.
With a sigh, I sink back against him and allow myself to close my eyes and luxuriate in the feeling. Just for a little while.
God, if only it could always be like this with a man.
Cas’s hands begin to roam over me again now, and even though I thought I was completely exhausted, his touch reawakens my desire. He moves over me, then reaches for his jeans again, but I stop him.
This is crazy, I know. But I want it anyway.
“I’m on the pill,” I breathe. “If you think you’re clean.”
I’ve been on the pill for years. Wishful thinking, mostly. It’s not like I’ve actually used the protection. A hundred times, I’ve told myself I should just admit that I live in a sexual desert and stop refilling the prescription.
But right now I’m grateful for it. I want to feel Cas inside me. I want to feel us together, skin on skin.
“I don’t do unprotected sex,” he tells me. “I don’t like surprises.” I think that means he’s refusing, but then he says, “So yeah, I’m clean.” His eyes bore into mine, dark and stormy with desire. “You sure?”
The ‘surprises’ line hits me a little in the gut. Something must change in my expression, because Cas’s face turns gentle.
“Look, if you’re not sure, it’s completely fine,” he murmurs. “Don’t do this just because you think I want it. Like I said, I’m not in the habit.”
Shit. I feel like I’m wrecking this moment. “No,” I say, reaching down for him. “I’m sure.” My hand slides around his thick cock, gripping it. It’s the first time I’ve actually touched him there. He feels amazing, the heft and weight of him making the rising ache between my legs even more painful. I’m dying to feel him inside me again.
Cas closes his eyes for a second as I begin to slowly stroke him. “Fuck,” he hisses. “You’ve got me on the goddamn edge already, Jen.” I angle my hips upward, and he presses the thick head of his shaft against my opening. Closing my eyes, I exhale slowly as he joins us together, skin to skin. God, the heat of him inside me like this… it’s unbelievable. He’s perfect, it’s all so perfect, that for a second I just freeze and marvel at what it feels like to have him inside me, filling me so completely.
We begin to move, a rhythm that starts out slow but quickly becomes more driven, more frenetic. I can feel the two of us begin to climb higher and higher together, Cas’s moans joining with mine. Our bodies need this, with an urgency I can tell is the same for both of us.
“Cas,” I moan.
“I know, baby,” he croons at me. “I know. Come with me, baby.”
“Oh, God, I’m so close. Oh, Cas, please don’t stop, I’m… Oh God YES!”
I shatter just as he empties himself inside me with a roar, our bodies shuddering together. For a few moments, I sort of lose all sense of my body’s borders, like my body is Cas’s body and both of us have expanded out into the universe. When I finally start coming back to my senses, Cas is kissing me deeply, our bodies entwined, with him still inside me.
He’s whispering things about how gorgeous I am, and how sexy I am, and for a few minutes, I just feel so incredibly happy — like seriously, probably the happiest I’ve ever felt in my whole life. The only thing that comes close is the day I gave birth to Noah, but even that happiness was ringed with fear and worry and oh my God how in the hell am I qualified to be somebody’s mother? But this… right now… is just bliss.
The sex, of course, is amazing. Sex with Cas is so much better than it’s ever been with anyone else that I’m a little worried he might have ruined me for future boyfriends — assuming I ever manage to have a boyfriend again. But it’s more than that. What just happened between us feels… intimate. It feels like it was more than just sex, more than just fucking.
It’s not, though. I know better than to let myself imagine things that aren’t there. I’m probably just so sex-starved after all
this time that I’m imagining things.
But he did ask me to stay the night. Practically insisted on it.
Stop it, Jenna. Stop reading into it. Cas could have any woman he wanted to, practically. Just because he’s choosing me tonight doesn’t mean anything. I need to just enjoy it for what it is: a much-needed vacation from reality.
18
Jenna
I should be exhausted after our second round of sex, but for some reason I’m wide awake afterwards. Luckily, Cas seems like he isn’t in any hurry to go to sleep, either. We fall into an easy rhythm of conversation, catching up with what we’ve each been doing for the past few years — as though we’re not lying in bed naked next to one another after two rounds of mind-blowing sex.
I tell him about going back to school for a second year of college, and then dropping out again. What I don’t tell him is why. That after I’d discovered I was pregnant, I made it through the school year, and even Noah’s birth, but in the end I couldn’t make it all work financially with a baby on a full-time student’s budget.
I feel a twinge of guilt and nerves as I tell him all this. Part of me is both hoping and dreading that he’ll put two and two together and figure out that Noah is his. I should tell him, I know. Now that Cas has actually met Noah, I feel like I have to tell him. But how do you do that? How do you tell a guy, “Hey, by the way, that kid running around with deep brown eyes and a shock of brown hair? Yeah, he’s yours. Sorry I forgot to tell you at the time.”
The fact is, I agonized about whether to tell Cas about Noah throughout the entire pregnancy. But I didn’t want him to think I was trying to rope him into a relationship. And I didn’t want Noah to have a father who didn’t want him. In the end, I told myself that I could love my son enough for two parents. But it was easier to believe that when he was a baby. Now that he’s older, I know Noah is starting to miss having a father. And now that I’m back in Tanner Springs, it’s even harder to figure out how to navigate all this.
Especially since here I am back in Cas’s bed.
“Hey,” Cas is saying, as he begins to twine a lock of my hair around his finger. “What’s with the hair, by the way?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Why did you dye it?”
Oh. I’ve been coloring my hair for a while now. Long enough that I forgot Cas hasn’t ever seen me as a brunette before. “I don’t know,” I shrug. “I guess… I thought people would take me more seriously as a brunette. You’d be surprised how many people seem to believe the ‘dumb blonde’ thing.”
“Huh.” He’s quiet for a moment.
“What?” Now I’m self-conscious. Reaching up to touch my head, I ask, “Does it look bad?”
“No, no. Not at all.” He looks at me. “It looks good, actually. It’s hot. But…” For a couple of seconds he looks like he’s trying to decide what to say. Finally, he murmurs, “I get that it’s just hair, Jen. Women dye their hair all the time. But… don’t cover yourself up, okay?” His face is serious. “You don’t need to hide from anyone. Be yourself.”
Anger flashes through me. I hate when guys tell women how to dress, or how much makeup they should have on, or how to do their hair. It happens to me all the damn time. I open my mouth to tell Cas to go to hell, but then I close it again.
Because as pissed off as part of me is that he thinks he should get to tell me what to do with my hair…
He’s right.
I dye my hair precisely to cover myself up. To hide the part of me that does nothing but screw things up. To look more serious, more capable.
But for the first time, I realize that I’m not hiding myself from other people. I’m hiding myself from myself.
And somehow, Cas Watkins saw right through me.
I’m not about to let him know that, though.
“What about you?” I challenge. “You’re hiding behind that big bad biker thing.” I’m trying to rile him up — suddenly I want him to be angry with me — but he just laughs.
“I’m not hiding anything, Jen.” He lifts his head to grin suggestively at me. “What you see is what you get. And you’ve seen pretty much everything.”
I blush. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” I wave my hands around. “You’re Big, Bad, mysterious Ghost Watkins, Sergeant at Arms for the Lords of Carnage. You’re trying to tell me that’s not something you use to keep the world at a distance?”
He shrugs. Clearly, I’m not getting under his skin as much as I want to. “Not more than anyone else,” he says calmly. “The club’s a brotherhood. I’m not hiding from anything.”
I snort. “I don’t buy it.”
“What would I be hiding?” he asks, raising his hands wide.
“I don’t know. You tell me,” I say. “I mean, I barely know anything about you. How would I know what you’re hiding?”
“What do you mean?” He frowns, genuinely perplexed. “We’ve known each other for years.”
“Yeah, but… what do we really know about each other?” I persist.
“I know what makes you scream,” he says reaching for me.
“Stop!” I bat him away. “I’m serious.”
“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “What do you want to know?”
“Ummm…” I sit for a few seconds, thinking. “Okay. Cats or dogs?”
“What?” He’s confused.
“Which do you like better?” I explain. “Cats or dogs?”
“Oh.” He cocks his head at me. The smirk on his face tells me he’s considering whether to play this silly game with me. Finally, he relents. “Dogs. You?”
“Both,” I say. “With a slight preference for dogs. Okay, now your turn.”
“Are we seriously doing this?” he complains, but I’m not having it.
“Yes. Your turn. Go.”
He sighs dramatically. “Okay. Uh. Day or night?”
“Hm. Day,” I smile. “I love the sunshine on my face. You?”
“Night,” he grins, reaching out to stroke my breast. I shiver, but push him away. “Pizza or hamburgers?”
“You have to choose between pizza and hamburgers?” I ask.
“This is your game,” he reminds me.
“Pizza. As long as I can have different flavors.” I specify. “Okay, my turn.” I think for a second. “Leather or lace?”
“What? On me?” He starts laughing.
“No, silly. On women.” I shrug my shoulders. “Like, do you like women who wear jeans and leather, or more frilly, girly stuff?”
“Whatever you’re wearing is good with me,” he growls. “Right now I’m partial to naked.”
“Focus,” I say. “Oh, here’s a good one. Movies or books?”
“Books,” he replies firmly.
“Seriously?”
“What?” he protests. “You think I can’t read?”
“No, no, it’s just… a little hard to imagine you reading.” I admit, eyeing him curiously. “What’s your favorite book?”
“The Count of Monte Cristo,” he replies instantly. “My granddad gave it to me when I was a kid. I still have it. And you’ve asked like three questions in a row.”
“Okay, sorry. Your turn.”
He looks at me for a few seconds, thinking. Then finally: “Regret something you have done, or regret something you haven’t done?”
Whoa. I thought this was just a stupid game. But once again, it’s like somehow Cas has just reached inside my head.
Regretting things has become almost a religion for me. I’ve made so many stupid mistakes in my life so far. Sometimes I think making mistakes is all I’m good at.
I almost just give him a flippant answer so we can move on. But instead, I can’t help but turn Cas’s question over in my head. I think about my fling with him all those years ago. It’s a fling I regretted almost instantly. But it gave me Noah. I can’t regret that, no matter what.
I don’t know what’s going on between Cas and me, now, either. It might end up blowing up in my face. Bu
t if I’m honest with myself? I can’t regret this, either, no matter what happens.
The one thing I really, really regret as I sit here right now, though? That I never told Cas about Noah. That I’m going to have to do it eventually, and it’s probably going to be way worse because I didn’t do it when I should have.
“I’d rather regret something I had done,” I finally choke out.
“Me, too,” he breathes, bending toward me. He kisses me, deeply, and then for the third time in a night — just like our first night together — we come together, crying out our passion in the dark.
Afterwards, we lie panting next to each other.
“I sure as hell don’t regret that,” Cas murmurs.
I burst out laughing.
19
Cas
I manage to see Jenna most nights for the next couple of weeks. It’s not like I plan it that way. It just sort of happens. Whenever she’s in my arms, she’s all I can think about. And whenever I’m away from her, all I can think about is seeing her again.
Usually, I come over to her place at night. Most of the time it’s after Noah’s gone to bed, but sometimes when I get there he’s still up, all fed and bathed and in his pajamas. I’ve never paid a hell of a lot of attention to little kids, but I gotta say that Noah’s a pistol. Smart as a damn whip, too. He’s already reading, even though he’s not even in kindergarten yet. Jenna told me he just figured it out one day. I guess she was reading a book to him and he interrupted her and started sounding the words out himself. He even brought me one of his little books one night and read it to me out loud, sitting next to me on Jenna’s old worn-out couch with his stuffed monkey beside him. He’s always asking questions about how things work, and he’s got this damn quirky sense of humor, too. He cracks me up, which is pretty damn amazing in a four year-old. It’s weird — in some ways, the kid really reminds me of me.
GUNNER: Lords of Carnage MC Page 26