by A. J. Downey
“I want to ride you, like before…” I murmured against his warm skin and he put his hands over mine and pulled them away from his body, twisting and laying down for me to do just that. I swung a leg over his narrow hips and he reached between us to raise his cock from his stomach so that I could slide over the top of him.
The desire in his eyes was raw and powerful, stealing my breath with a single look. His hands slid up my body to cup my breasts, teasing my erect nipples with his thumbs. It was perfect, and I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of him deep inside me, touching the most intimate parts of me, evoking pleasures that were simply marvelous without my having to do anything. It was like he touched every wanting, aching, nerve just right, and I was almost scared to get moving because if it felt this good sitting still, I was almost afraid of how good it was going to feel when I started to ride him.
His hands glided to my hips, his strong fingers digging into my flesh just so and I got with the program, biting my lower lip, hands on his rippling stomach, I rolled my hips. Sparks swept out from my core, flitting along fibers and nerves, lighting me up in a way I’d never felt with any of the encounters, casual and not, that I’d had before. That was just it, though. Nothing about this, about Kyle, was casual and none of my other meaningful relationships ever were... How could they be when the other person didn’t even know my real name?
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, head tipping back as I did it again. The feel of him, deep and fitting my body like a key, twisting in my locked heart until all my secrets came spilling out. God, the connection with this man was unreal. Our bodies were poetry in motion, breath spilling, world narrowing, hands gliding over damp flesh, smoothing over one another to make sure we were both whole and unharmed by the years and experiences that were lost to one another by the cruel twist of fate that had pulled us apart.
He thrust up gently to meet me when I came down on him the next time and a sweet cry of surrender escaped my throat. I was perilously close to orgasm, just by benefit of him inside me alone. I could never remember that happening with anyone else before, not that I thought much about it beyond that. All I knew was that this was what it must feel like when you found your other half and finally became one whole.
I mean, there were second chances, and then there was this, which I didn’t even have a name for. All I knew was that I was incredibly wet. Wetter than I had ever been in my life, turned on to the nth degree, and it was both wonderful and terrifying, the euphoria of being astride the only man I think I’d ever loved almost too much, and I think he sensed that. His hands smoothing over my skin as we rocked into each other until finally, his arms went around me, and faster than I could blink, Kyle Cochran crashed over me and swept me under, both figuratively and literally.
12
Data…
I’d never, in all our years together before she’d disappeared, seen Mali let go. I watched her come apart above me and while she wasn’t orgasming, not yet, she was close. Her body trembling finely above me and around me, her muscles lax, eyes closed in perfect love and perfect trust as she met me halfway and she felt incredible.
Her metaphysical walls were down, the hardness went from her expression and it was an intimate glimpse of her. I had only seen it a scant handful of times on her face, usually under our old oak tree confiding our deepest and darkest hopes and dreams. I knew I was her number-one confidant back then, and she was my greatest secret, my one heart’s desire that I coveted above all else.
…and now she was really here, really mine, and I was never letting go.
She was finally in a place where she was ceding her hard-won control and I would be a fool not to take advantage. I smoothed my hands over her silky soft skin and sat up, rolling her off to the side and under me. She gasped, holding onto my shoulders but I didn’t give her time to react, I didn’t want to lose her to the dark fear that plagued her. The one that was always there threatening to pull her back from me, so I stroked deep, deeper than our position of a moment before would allow. She gasped, her pussy flaring around the head of my cock, clamping down around my shaft and I knew she was almost there, so close, so damn epically close and I wanted so bad to take her there.
I cradled her body against mine, lifting one leg up over my shoulder and pressing her into the cloud of a mattress. She shuddered beneath me, her cry sweet and beautifully real and true. I smiled to myself and covered her mouth with my own. She was as passionate as I imagined she would be, holding me to her tightly, kissing me fervently, her body tight, squeezing down around me until it was almost hard to thrust. She was a coiled spring, and I wound her tight and tighter until she tore her mouth from mine and with a piercing, passion-filled scream she sprang apart beneath me.
Her body jerked and she stiffened, and the way her pussy milked my cock there was no way I could hold out anymore either. I drove deep and felt myself spill inside her and it was probably the most satisfying experience of my fucking life.
Of course, then reality set in. We’d just done it without a condom, although, to be fair, she’d definitely started it and while Mali wasn’t reckless, she was definitely the more reckless of the two of us. Thus, it bore talking about. Just not right this second. Right this second I was getting us both under the blankets, gathering her close in the dimly lit interior of the shop building of Point Nowhere.
I don’t think this place had ever witnessed anything beautiful before and the vibe of the whole building rang like a tuning fork that’d been struck against a stone. The life-changing reverberations of what we shared echoed back at us from the very walls. Mali and I panted, concentrating on regaining our breaths to a steadier cadence before either of us tried to talk.
She immediately pressed herself to my side, laying her head on my shoulder and one of her legs across both of mine. Her body pressing as tightly as she could make it to my side, and I loved that. I held her close with one arm along her back, my other hand atop her thigh, smoothing up and down her leg to reassure myself that yes, this was really happening and it wasn’t just another one of my fanciful dreams.
“Say it again,” she breathed against my chest and I looked down at the crown of her head, her expression hidden from me.
“What?” I asked, drawing a blank.
She looked up at me, and the keen sharp look she gave me led to my ‘oh duh’ moment of the night. I smiled and said, “That I love you?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded relieved, her body relaxing against mine; eyes fluttering shut as if tasting my words and savoring their flavor.
“I’ve loved you since the third grade Amalia Rose Junix. Nothing about that ever changed and I never thought for a minute you left by any means other than foul play.” I sighed and she laid her head back down, cuddling close. I could feel the tension returning to her muscles and I wished I hadn’t said anything now. I could feel her going back on the defensive and she was always on the defensive. She may have loved her daddy, but I don’t think her daddy really knew how to love her back, at least not by traditional standards. Not with all the shit he put her through.
She came from the epitome of a fucked-up broken home and the scars from that ran deep. They were deeper than skin, deeper than blood and bone. These scars weren’t something that could probably ever be fixed, but I didn’t care. I loved her for who she was, damage and all, difficult as that sometimes made her.
At least, with Mali, I would never, ever, be bored.
“No more secrets, no more games,” she murmured. “Not between us.”
“No games, no secrets,” I agreed immediately.
“I missed there even being an ‘us’ so much,” she said and she shivered against me, the same sort of shudder she gave when we were kids and she was fending off tears. The same sort of shudder that always led someone to ask ‘are you all right?’ which of course led to Mali blowing up in their face in over-compensation to prove that she was just fine.
I didn’t fall for the trap, I just held her a little closer a
nd smoothed my hand up and down her sexy, toned thigh and said, “Yeah, me too. You have no idea how much.”
She huffed a bit of an incredulous laugh and I smiled, too. If there were anyone on the planet who knew or had any idea, yeah, it would be her. I didn’t know exactly where to go from here. What to say, or if I should ask, and I didn’t want to ruin this carefully cultivated calm. Seriously. We were safe here, even though we couldn’t stay here forever, for obvious reasons. We had time, though. Time before we had to make a move.
“Sleep, for now, baby. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
“Pretty sure it is tomorrow, and I like that.”
“Like what?”
“That you call me ‘baby’ so easy, like you’ve always said it.”
I chuckled and kissed the crown of her head. If she only knew how many times I struggled not to say it in the weeks and months leading up to her sudden disappearance. Or how many hours I searched internet back alleys, how much time I spent immersed in the dark web muttering over and over, ‘Where are you, baby?’ into the dark.
Amalia had been mine for a long, long, time. She just didn’t know it then, and I’d had no way to tell her.
“You really like it?” I asked, a little worried by her sudden silence. “You’re not just saying that?”
She pushed herself up, twisting to look down at me. Her lips echoing the movement by twisting into a wry smile that warmed her eyes to a deep caramel.
“I love it,” she whispered and brought her mouth down to mine for a lingering, decadent, sweet kiss that had my dick stirring beneath the sheets all over again. She didn’t hesitate to go exploring, wrapping sure but gentle fingers around me; stroking me to life the rest of the way.
“Do I need to get you the morning-after pill?” I asked against her mouth. She smiled back against mine.
“Implant,” she said, “but I wouldn’t say no to condoms if you decide you want this to be an open kind of deal…”
I froze and pulled back from her scowling, demanding… “Is that what you want?”
“No, but I know how MC’s work. Club girls aren’t always out of bounds whether you’re in a relationship or not. I’m telling you right now though, I find out about her, I’m cuttin’ the bitch.”
I felt a lazy smile cross my face, she was fishing. I shook my head and told her, “Not how I operate.”
“I didn’t think so, but I wanted to be sure.”
“I thought no more games…” I murmured, and pressed my mouth to hers, kissing her breathless even as she stole mine with her careful, nimble fingers.
“Wasn’t playing,” she said straddling me and looking down from her perch across my hips. She was sliding her pussy up and down my length, teasingly… not penetrating, just driving me wild. I laughed and put myself in her. She sucked in a sharp breath and settled into a slow, rocking rhythm.
“I ain’t playing either,” I said, “You’re mine now and you disappear again? I’ll hunt your sweet ass down all over again and spank it.” I swatted her on the ass to make my point and she yipped and laughed before letting out this sultry moan.
“Mm, I’m good with that.”
“You sure?”
“You give fantastic dick. I’m sure.” I laughed and she grinned and once again I marveled at the fact that it was like we’d picked right back up where we’d left off. Like nothing had ever happened.
13
Amalia…
I woke slowly to the sound of masculine voices and lay still for a minute, just listening, trying to decide on who was here. I heard Kyle’s voice, the low, steady cadence a comforting thing. He was still here, and comfortable with whoever he was talking to, so there was no danger… not yet.
One of the cardinal rules of living on the run was that you were never safe. You could never take the illusion of safety for granted, either. The minute you did, shit would go sideways and you would find yourself running again at a severe disadvantage and when you weren’t seven steps ahead of the hunter, that’s how you became very dead prey.
The low, gravelly tone that responded to Kyle mismatched the dude that it came out of. I mean, the big guy couldn’t have been more than forty on the outside and yet he sounded like a regular grandpa. It bespoke way too many cigarettes in too short a time. I knew a couple of other guys like that. Some people, it damaged the voice after a couple of months sucking down a pack a day or more. Made you sound two to three times your actual age. By the time this dude was seventy, if he even made it that far, he might not have any kind of voice at all.
The smell hit me like two seconds after that gravelly smoker’s voice spoke, and my stomach clenched and was like, yes! Feed me bitch! I pushed myself up and stretched and Trigger said, “Whoa, hey, sorry! Uh…”
“Would you look at that?” I mused aloud, “I make the big biker blush.” I swatted aside the mosquito netting and hopped out of bed. Kyle was struggling not to laugh. I’d never been body-shy in my life, and I didn’t particularly care for modesty on a physical front. I kind of viewed my skin the same way I viewed clothes. Just something to wear to hold your soul. You know what I mean?
Still, it was totally worth it to watch the big guy curse, twisting this way and that in the big, pretty much empty building, looking for something to duck behind to give me privacy. I was going to go straight for the bath, but the chance to get a little lighthearted revenge for my discomfort last night made me divert passing the desk full of computer equipment in the center of the large space in favor of going to it.
Kyle leaned back in his desk chair and I leaned a hip against it, draping my arm across his shoulders. He was sitting in just jeans and boots, shirtless save for his motorcycle vest over his bare chest. The look suited him, my pussy giving a bit of an aching throb at the sight that I couldn’t honestly tell if it was in excitement or protest. It’d been a while, and we’d gone at it more than a few times last night. I was sore enough that I couldn’t quite classify it as the good kind anymore, but I wanted to anyway. I also couldn’t deny the deep sense of soothing satisfaction it gave me when his hand went to my waist, around my body, his arm against my ass and the tops of my thighs.
“Grab a bath and get dressed, baby. Rest of the guys will be here soon.” He smacked me on the ass and laughed.
“Oh, you’re going to pay for that one,” I remarked and he smiled and winked at me.
“I don’t doubt it, but all the same…”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” I waved over my shoulder and started up the water carefully. He’d drained the horse trough last night and this morning I went to my knees in it and didn’t even wait for it to fill. I used the pitcher hanging over the side from an ‘s’ shaped hook to dump over my hair and made quick work of it and the rest of me with the stolen hotel shampoos and conditioners and a sliver of a bar of soap.
I didn’t much care for the cheap shit; my skin felt tight and dry with a layer of soap scum on it, but it was better than sweat, the leavings of our sexcapades, and the barely-rinsed road grime of the day before. I got up, wringing out my hair, and shutting off the tap just as Reaver and Dray walked through the door.
“Shit, put some fuckin’ clothes on,” Dray grated and averted his eyes. I rolled mine while Reaver stared openly, grinning like a happy dog who’d just spotted his favorite tennis ball.
“Eh, I give you a solid seven, but my Doll is a ten in my book.”
“Fuck you,” I said, “I’m at least an eight.”
“Nine,” Kyle called, “be a solid ten if you had more of an ass.” He wasn’t looking at me, though. He was clicking through screens in front of him and I smiled to myself, drying off and wrapping one of the large towels around me. Just another reason I loved him. He didn’t bullshit me, and yet, even when he was saying something that might have been taken as a dis or derogatory, he still had a way of being fresh, honest, and complimentary. He knew I hated how skinny I was as a teen and that my biggest pet peeve back then had been my decided lack of a chest. That hadn’t change
d too much. I went from a late blooming solid A cup to no more than an overflowing B… but he liked my tits. That gave me the warm fuzzies, right there.
I went back across the place and pulled on clean panties and some black yoga pants. The door opened up and admitted more men, these ones I didn’t know, just as I pulled a loose dark gray tank top with some pithy saying in shiny silver on its front over my head. I fished through my bag for a comb, pulled the netting against the four bed posts and secured it, before dropping onto the bed and curling my legs across each other to start working on the snarl of my hair.
I picked through endless knots in the dyed ends. Three guys had come in, one with long brown hair, one with short dark hair, and one with hair the color of dirty straw. All three were imposing in their own way. The first and third were both built like a brick shithouse, the second was wiry whipcord over bone in a way that still managed to be imposing. They eyed me just as much as I eyed them, each of us taking the other’s measure.
“Archer, Rush, and Nox, meet Amalia. Mali, this is Archer, his brother Rush and that’s Rush’s twin, Nox,” Trigger made the introductions, Kyle was lost in his mass of computer screens and networks.
“Hi,” I said and looked them over one at a time.
“Don’t look like much, does she?” Rush asked.
“Guess we’ll be fast friends, then,” I said sarcastically. “Right back at you.” Archer and Nox laughed, and I smiled. “And she is sitting right here, so don’t fuckin’ talk about me like I’m not,” I added.
“You were right, Reave,” Nox said and turned back to me, “You’re a firecracker.”