Loaded

by Max Henry

  “I’m sticking around. I know you want me to, somewhere deep down in there—” She waggled a finger at him. “—but you’re too macho to let me risk being hurt. You keep trying to push me away, and I’m not having it anymore. I’m not made of china, Pete. I’ve been hurt before, and I survived. So, I’ll damn well do it again.”

  “Conditions?”

  “You share everything with me, and I mean everything. Otherwise you might wake up one day to find your nuts staring back at you from the bedside table.”

  “Love, do you have any idea how much this is turning me on?”

  “You’re a sick boy, Pete O’Malley.”

  “And don’t ya love it?”

  “Too much” Her hands found their way to the buttons of the coat she wore.

  He watched as she popped them one-by-one, revealing a little more of her flesh each time. The last dropped free, and she took each side of the coat in her hands, pulled it wide, and dropped it to the floor.

  “Fuck,” he whispered as she revealed her clear intentions.

  Steph stood in tattooed glory before him, not a scrap of clothing on her beautiful body other than her heels. She had chosen only to wear one accessory. And it was what she had chosen that had him clawing at his threads to join in her nudity. Around her neck was the most feminine purple, and pink collar. Little diamantes studded the sides, and a gleaning silver loop sat at her throat.

  He tossed his shirt aside, and closed the gap between them. “This,” he uttered, and tugged at the loop, “is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve seen.”

  She placed her hands on her hips, and dropped her head to the side. “I thought I was?”

  “It’s only the sexiest, because it’s on you, Love.”

  Her hands wrapped about the back of his neck, and pulled him into her frenzied kiss. “You—” she said between sucks of his lip-ring, “—never stop amazing me.”

  He returned the kiss, fumbling with his belt. His jeans dropped to the ground, and her eyes followed.

  “You’re commando again.”

  “So I am,” he chuckled.

  Sparks of ecstasy pinged through his limbs at the feel of her fingers on his strained erection. She slid her grasp the length of him, before swiping the pad of her thumb over the tip. He shuddered, and felt the moistness of his arousal as she spread it over the head.

  They stumbled together under her guidance, until his back hit the door. “Remember the first time we did this?” she asked.

  He moaned his response as Steph dropped to her knees, and wrapped her sweet lips around his member. “Fuck, Love.”

  She bobbed over him, building the tension in his balls until he thought they’d explode. He drew his eyes shut, savouring the sensation of her warm mouth wrapped around him like it was her only source of air. The tightness became too much, and immediately before his balls lifted, she pulled free. Not this again.

  “Remember how last time I stopped?”

  “Aye.”

  She palmed his package, and licked her lips. “This time I won’t.”

  He groaned as she dropped her mouth onto his length again, and worked her magic pace. Pistol wrapped her hair around his fist, driving himself deep enough to have her gag. The sensation of her throat closing tight catapulted him toward the finish line, and he withdrew, jerking her head back with his fistful. “Stand.”

  She did as instructed, licking the glistening moisture from her lips.

  With a hand cupped under each buttock, he lifted her from the floor, and crossed to the sofa. Steph giggled when he placed her on the arm—perfect height for his pleasure. She moaned into his mouth as he captured hers, and drove home with a single, swift stroke. Pistol pumped until she clawed at his shoulders, rocking her hips beneath him.

  “How does it feel to have me fuck ya, right where anyone could walk in and see?”

  “Oh my God,” she cried. “So fucking dirty.”

  He nuzzled her neck, and whispered in her ear as he pounded harder. “Would you like that? Knowing someone watched?”

  “Oh, fuck Pete!”

  The tightening of her core around him told him the answer to that question. Jesus, I can’t wait to explore this side of her. She tossed her head back, showing him that glorious collar, and he looped the ring over his fingers.

  “Harder. Pull on it harder.”

  He used the collar as an anchor point, giving her more depth with every stroke, and she fell apart.

  “Oh, God. Don’t stop.”

  “I wouldn’t stop if the fuckin’ police walked in, Love.”

  She quivered, and cried out, grinding harder into his hips as her orgasm drained her body of strength. He scooped her to his chest, and helped her sit upright—still impaled on his cock. Steph burrowed her face into his shoulder, and sighed.

  “I love you, Pete.”

  “I love you too, Steph.”

  Steph sat cramped in the back seat of Pete’s rod. She’d been offered the front, but flatly declined knowing full well if she was squashed, Trevor wouldn’t stand a chance. She’d parked herself on a stool for the remainder of Pete’s shift, and watched as the big guy worked his way through the bevvy of willing ladies in the bar. He didn’t seem to have a shortage of interested parties, but he’d ditched them as quickly as they’d arrived. Part of her wondered if it was true what they said about bodybuilders like him—they were fussy about their women.

  “No luck then?” Pete glanced at Trevor as he sat quietly in the passenger seat.

  “Not particularly, Son.”

  “What’s the matter? Did they have too much body fat for your likin’?” Steph snickered at Pete’s contagious grin.

  “I’m not that conceited, you wanker.”

  “What then?”

  “Let’s say I don’t like going for a test-drive knowing half the dealership has used the same seat. No dis-respect there, Steph.”

  “None taken.”

  Pete scoffed. “If you want brand new, unused goods, then maybe you should try looking for a girl who doesn’t display herself on the showroom floor.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, this kind of physique doesn’t exactly attract the more modest, quiet types.”

  “Why not?” she asked. Why wasn’t a ‘modest’ girl allowed to be attracted to a good-looking guy like Trevor?

  Both men threw a look her way. Pete resumed his watch of the road as he drove, while Trevor twisted in the seat to talk directly to her. “You saying, if you were a shy, nice girl, that you’d approach this?” He gestured to the length of himself.

  She had to admit he did cut an intimidating figure. “If you didn’t come off as an arrogant tool, sure.”

  Trevor laughed, and looked to Pete. “I like this one.”

  “Maybe it’s not the girls with the problem, but the way you’re presenting yourself?” she offered.

  “Women secretly love that cheesy shit. What’s wrong with a good pick-up line?”

  “Really?” She laughed. “You believe that?”

  “I bet you’ve had a guy whistle at you as he drove past, and loved every second of it.”

  Steph snorted. “Hardly. What the hell do you men think we’re going to do? Run after the car? If you’ve got balls, pull over and show a bit of respect.”

  Pete snickered while Trevor whined like a wounded dog. “You’re not playing fair, precious.”

  “Simply telling it like it is.”

  “Come on then.” He tipped his chin up. “How would you do it?”

  “Pick up a ‘nice’ girl?”

  “Exactly.”

  She shrugged. Picking up girls wasn’t exactly her forte. She could only say what she’d like. “I guess I’d pay her a bit of attention first: ask her name, about what she does, that kind of thing.”

  Pete choked.

  “What?”

  “Because that is so how I picked you up, Love.”

  “I never said I was a nice girl.”

  She smiled as Trevor burst into a fit of lau
ghter. He screwed himself around in the seat to face the road again as Pete shook his head. “You’ve gotta keep this one, Son.”

  “I plan to.”

  Steph turned to the window to hide her idiotic grin. Although they’d literally declared their love for one another during their ‘interlude’ in the staffroom, she’d been a little wary of the possibility it all been said in the heat of the moment. Hearing Pete say what he had, cemented the last block in the road to their future together. He wanted her around for the long haul. He was as determined as she was to make it work—no matter what. Now all they had to do was get past another murder, and everything would be A-Okay.

  Made it sound so easy when she put it like that, didn’t it?

  ***

  Pistol eyed Steph’s ass as she walked into the house before them, and automatically licked his lips. Knowing she was stark naked under that coat did all sorts of things to his libido. Knowing that Trevor had no idea only made him wilder with the need to rip it off her again.

  He ushered her toward the bedroom. “Ya better get to bed, Love. I’d hate for you to be fallin’ asleep at ya computer in the morning.”

  “It is the morning, Pete.”

  Trevor laughed from his position at the couch, arranging his blankets. “Admit it, Son. You just want to get her into the bedroom so you can have your way with her. Don’t beat around the bush on my account.” He held up a hand, still laughing.

  “I was simply tryin’ to spare the ladies feelings.” He glared at Trevor, and placed a hand on the small of Steph’s back. She eased into his hold as he brought his lips to her ear to whisper. “Bet it makes ya hot to know he’ll be able to hear me make ya scream.”

  She replied with nothing more than a tight sigh, and stepped from his embrace to enter the bedroom. He looked over his shoulder at Trevor, and winked. The big guy shook his head, lay down, and promptly inserted the ear-buds for his iPhone. Pistol stepped in after Steph, and shut the door.

  “You teasing prick,” she snickered. “I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Love. He’ll probably have sweet dreams tonight because of you.”

  “Eww!” Her fingers worked the buttons on the coat while he stepped from his uniform.

  “You have any idea how hard it’s been to look at you all night, knowing you don’t have a scrap on underneath?”

  “I imagine ‘it’s’ been pretty damn hard.” Her eyes dropped to his rapidly rising erection.

  “What you goin’ to do by way of apology, then?” He crossed his arms, waiting on her to complain, call him every name under the sun for being such a prick.

  Instead, she curled a deliciously manicured finger toward herself.

  He positioned himself centre of the bed, and laced his hands behind his head. “This what ya want?”

  “Insanely so.” Her hooded gaze sent pleasant shivers the length of him.

  Steph crawled across the foot of the bed, until she sat astride his hips—her hair cascaded over one shoulder like a waterfall. So beautiful, it seemed a shame to have to ever look away. “What made you think of doing something so bold?” He wasn’t complaining by any stretch of the imagination, but after the mood she left in last time he’d seen her, he didn’t expect that kind of reunion.

  She shrugged—her glorious cleavage boosting as she did. “I wanted to do something to show you that I’m comfortable with the way we are together, and that was the first thing that came to mind.”

  “Jesus, Love. You can do it any time ya like, as long as you give me little fella time to recover in between.”

  “You like, then?”

  “What do you think?” He flexed his rigid length into the warm apex of her thighs. Her eyes darted down to the point they connected, and she giggled.

  “I guess you did.”

  “We goin’ to talk all night, or what?”

  Steph ran her tongue across her sweet lips, and shifted down his body to hover above his borderline painful erection. “What,” she breathed over the length of him, and slipped a hand around the base.

  He closed his eyes, and let the basic sensations take over as her wet, warm mouth enveloped the length of him. She worked her tongue around the head, along the shaft, and flicked the tip for good measure. He groaned—her mouth sweet ecstasy. So what if Trevor could hear? Let the brute be jealous. Because by fuck, if his mate had a girl as sweet, and sexy as this giving head, he sure-as-shit would be.

  Steph drew him close to climax, until his hips bucked of their own accord, trying to find that perfect depth where he could feel her tight throat. He crept a hand down to her head, and wrapped her magnificent hair around his fist like an anchor rope. She drew off him, and his cock slapped onto his stomach.

  “What?”

  She grinned at him, and prowled over his body until she sat astride once more. “Who was Trevor going to hear screaming?”

  “Screamin’ is for girls,” he complained.

  “Show me what you do then.” Steph rocked her hips a couple of times to pick up the end of his still raging hard-on hands-free, and slip it into her luscious heat. He moaned, and drew his lip-ring between his teeth.

  She spied what he was doing; tugging the ring in intervals so it pulled at his flesh. His mouth flew open on a moan as she gripped his nipples, and twisted. “Fuck, Love.”

  Her rocking motion picked up pace, and she slipped her hands onto his pecs. The sweet feeling of nails biting into flesh had his cock fit to burst. Steph threw her head back, and whimpered. Her core tightened the choke-hold it had on him as she fell apart around him. He gripped her backside, and lifted her off enough to give himself he room he needed to move. Wet slapping echoed around the room, mixed with the frantic moans of two people lost in the bliss their bodies could create together. He drove into her in a frenzy, desperately seeking out the finishing line while her centre still had a tight hold on him.

  The pressure welled, and at last he fell over the cliff. Two solid thrusts, and a healthy dose of Steph’s teeth in the side of his neck were all he needed. He groaned as he pulsed inside her. She collapsed onto the bed beside him, and looked across with a silly grin on her face.

  “What?”

  She prodded his neck, and he flinched. “I gave you a hickey.”

  He sat up so he could catch his reflection in the mirror. So she has.

  “Finally!” Trevor yelled from the living room. “I can get to fucking sleep!”

  He looked at Steph who lay stunned beside him. A grin curled her lips, and when she met his gaze he couldn’t help but erupt into a fit of laughter with her.

  For once, he was actually happy.

  ***

  Pete watched Steph laugh at an old joke Trevor shared with her over breakfast. Once she’d got past her initial fear of the guy, they got on like a house on fire. If it hadn’t been for those three words she’d said to him at the bar last night, he would have been all kinds of jealous. But she’d said she loved him, and he believed it. Because he loved her, too.

  Steph sat at the table, idly swirling her coffee as she spoke, stunning as ever. Aren’t women supposed to look like they’d been dragged through a bush backwards first thing in the morning? Not Steph. A couple of flicks of the wrist, and her hair sat back in place—probably helped by the copious amounts of hair-spray he’d seen her apply once before.

  Again, he found himself wondering how he’d happened across such a perfect match for himself. Would he ever stop doubting his luck? All he knew was, they had a connection—something strangely intimate despite the limited information they’d given each other about their pasts. One more thing he planned to rectify in the following days.

  His phone rung next to his hand, startling him from the daydream that was fast heading toward white picket fences, and babies. Steady on. He glanced down, and read Derek’s name on the display.

  “Mornin’.”

  “That it is. I wanted to call and give you the details for Richards funeral
.”

  “Ah, sure.”

  “This Friday at Saint Pauls, 2pm. Is Steph with you?”

  “How did you know that?” He glanced back at her as she waved her hands about with great animation.

  “Educated guess. Can you pass her the information for me? Saves me a call.”

  “Sure thing. Does she know what happened?” Her upbeat spirits suggested otherwise, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be the one to share the news. He knew how close the families were.

  “Yeah. I told her last night.”

  Sure didn’t seem upset, then. “Not a problem. I’ll let her know.”

  “Thanks, Pete.”

  He disconnected the call, and watched her again with a new interest. Nothing about her gave away she’d recently learned of a family friends death. Her eyes were lively, carefree, and content. A little too much so.

  “Love?”

  “Yeah?” She paused in her conversation with Trevor, who continued to shovel copious amounts of scrambled egg whites into his mouth.

  “Can I have a word?”

  “Sure?” Her brow knitted as she crossed the room to him. “What’s up?”

  “Derek called, asked me to pass on the details of Richard’s funeral.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Friday, at 2pm.” He eyed her unaffected response, waiting for any sign of remorse, regret, sadness. Nothing. “He said he’d told you about Richard’s death last night.”

  “Yeah. And?”

  “Ya don’t seem overly upset.”

  “Because I’m not,” she snapped.

  He cocked an eyebrow, and folded his arms across his chest. “Why? Aren’t they like a second family to ya?”

  “Richard, and I didn’t get along, okay.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Not really.”

  They knew each other and had fallen out. Nothing unusual there. So, why did it bother him so much? Was it because the guy had shown himself to be a nark? A traitor? Surely he didn’t think Steph could have … “When did ya fall out?”

  “Why?” She narrowed her stare.

  “When, Steph.”