by Erin Noelle
Whimpering, she inhales a deep breath through her nose then blows it out through her mouth. Her legs rub together like she can feel me there already. Unable to talk, she raises her brows, pins her gaze on me, and silently asks, Whatcha waitin’ for, Hulk?
Absolutely nothing.
Less than ten seconds later, the coarse salt granules grate over my taste buds, the warm, spicy tequila splashes against the back of my throat, and my lips slant over Dakota’s as I drink the tangy lime juice from her mouth. Then, as promised, I slide my hands under her thin frame as I hoist her in the air and march to the back of the bus, not giving a fuck about the two people we’re leaving behind. I’ve got important shit to take care of . . . her.
Desire burns bright in her eyes when I toss her on the queen-sized mattress in the middle of the small but functional room I call home on the bus. My dick is so fucking hard I’m honestly not sure how my jeans are containing it at this point. This girl’s got me twisted up like a teenager.
Yanking my t-shirt over my head, I gaze down at her and unconsciously lick my lips, dying to taste every inch of her, no salt required . . . but first, I need to fuck her. I’ve got two weeks for exploration. If I don’t get my cock deep inside that pussy right fucking now, I’m going to die. No question.
“Sunshine,” I growl, my voice filled with a need like I’ve never felt before as I unbutton my pants and allow them to fall to the floor.
“James,” she hisses, sucking in air through her teeth, her stare dropping to the raging boner in my boxers.
Fuck. No one’s called me James since I was a kid, and damn, if it isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard coming from her.
The bed dips with my weight as I crawl in between her already spread thighs, the inferno inside me raging out of control. Lowering myself onto my elbows, my mouth lingers less than a breath away from hers as my throbbing shaft nestles perfectly against her denim-clad mound. Instinctively, Dakota wriggles underneath me, rolling her hips to increase friction against her sensitive clit.
Her tongue darts out and swipes over her full bottom lip, drawing my attention to her sweet mouth. I need to taste her this fucking second.
My mouth crashes down on hers in a scorching kiss, firm and unapologetic. She opens to me immediately, accepting the starved thrust of my tongue. Her muffled moans fuel my hunger, and before I know it, I’m tearing at her clothes, dying to feel her skin on mine.
Tongues exploring, feeding each other’s intense, lust-driven craving, we work together to shimmy her cutoffs down her thighs then break apart to pull her tank tops over her head. And . . . holy fucking shit!
Not wearing a bra, her tits have got to be the best tits I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen more than my fair share. Perfectly symmetrical, they’re firm, perky, and begging to be played with. Oh, and if they weren’t already sexy-as-sin on their own, each rosy, pebbled nipple has a shiny silver barbell running through it, making her rack hotter than fucking hell itself.
Her mouth curls up in a wicked smirk, reveling in my adoration. The little minx loves knowing how much she affects me.
“‘Bout fuckin’ time you’re where you belong,” I grumble, filling my hands with her breasts and dropping my mouth to one of the pretty peaks.
Fingers slide into my hair as I trace my tongue around the perimeter of the darker circle once before flicking it forcefully over the metal piercing. She bows off the bed like I struck her with a jolt of electricity. “Where I belong?” she questions, her voice breathy, fighting for control.
“Mm-hm,” I murmur against her silky flesh. “In my bed. Naked. Under me. Over me. All around me.”
While my mouth worships one nipple, my fingers work the other, massaging, pulling, and twisting. Her body arches into my touch, into my kiss, and the overwhelming need for more consumes me . . . the need to be buried inside her.
“I need you inside me.” She voices my thought aloud as she slides one hand between us to caress my cock outside my boxers.
Well, at least we’re on the same page. Releasing her nipple with a loud pop, I slide the remainder of the way down her petite frame, hooking my thumbs into the sides of her panties tugging the flimsy scrap of material down her legs, and tossing it onto the floor. And then I freeze.
I’ve had a lot of naked women offer themselves to me before, and I’ve taken full and enthusiastic advantage, but never have I seen anything as fucking erotically stimulating as Dakota is right now. Completely nude—squirming, flushed, and panting—her body begs, even if her words don’t.
Keeping my knees anchored between her legs, I reach across her to open the top drawer of the nightstand and grab a foil packet. We work together in perfect sync—she pushes the elastic waistband of my boxers down over my hips, allowing my raging erection to spring free while I tear open the wrapper. She watches intently, her eyes glazed over with passionate hunger, as I roll the condom over my shaft.
“Are you wet for me, Sunshine?” I ask, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her admit it. The smell of her arousal lingers heavy in the air, testing the last threads of my resolve.
I glide a pair of fingers down the valley between her breasts, feathering them across her belly, over her apex, and dipping them straight into her blazing center. Landing on her swollen clit, my thumb rubs tiny, torturous circles over the nub of nerves, eliciting a string of whimpers and moans from her.
“Yes . . . yes . . . more!” She reaches down and wraps her hand around my dick, tugging firmly to line me up with her slick opening. “Need more . . . need you. Fuck me now.”
Entirely lost in her, wanting to give her everything she wants and needs, I thrust my hips forward and slowly ease into her core, soaking up each sweet fucking inch of her wet heat until I’m fully buried. My heart is pounding and I try to match my breathing to my motions, restraining myself so I don’t blow my load before I really get started. Careful not to crush her with my weight, I lower my upper body until my face hovers directly over hers as I begin to plunge in and out of her, each stroke slow and deliberate.
“Look at me,” I demand gruffly, needing to see the unadulterated pleasure swimming in her blue oceans.
Snapping her eyes up to mine, she complies right away. The lust and trust in her eyes take my breath away, and as a reward, my lips seek out hers in a feverish, possessive kiss. She tastes like forbidden fruit, the most delectable, mouthwatering combination of flavors I’ve ever experienced.
“Feels like fucking heaven,” I mumble against her mouth, the rhythm of my thrusts gradually increasing.
In and out, out and in, her irresistible sensuality imprisons my senses, devouring my every thought. Everything else in the world falls away except her and my need to make her come. My hips begin to piston wildly as I can’t get enough, and I’m getting too much all at once. Just like I live my life. Fast. Too fast. Chasing the thrill. Living off the adrenaline buzz.
“Oh, God.” She gasps for air before crying out my name. “James! Fuck yes, James!”
Fingernails tearing into my back, ankles digging into my ass, the hint of pain unleashes something inside me—turbulent, unbridled desire—as we surge closer and closer to our release. Throwing her head back, her tight muscles clamp down on my cock, triggering me to plunge into her one last time. And together, we come undone.
The explosion starts low in my gut, hurling pleasure out with a loud grunt, erupting across my body, and spreading dream-like euphoria everywhere. A wave of dizziness drowns me, leaving my vision hazy and my toes tingly. The faint pulses of Dakota’s climax linger, milking my cock of every last drop, until I collapse onto the mattress next to her, leaden and boneless.
Prying open my heavy lids, weighed down with post-orgasmic harmony, my chest tightens at the sated expression in her sleepy eyes and the lazy smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. The freshly fucked look fits my little ray of sunshine way too well, and my mind is already scheming of ways to keep her looking like this for the rest of the trip.<
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MONDAY, JUNE 18
SOFT, TENDER KISSES TRAILING ACROSS my jaw awakens me, and as I sluggishly open my eyes, I’m rewarded with the spectacular sight of a shirtless Levi lying next to me, propped up on his elbow, his handsome face relaxed and content. His intoxicating, masculine scent fills my nose, making me want nothing more than to bury my face in his broad chest and breathe deeply.
“Time to wake up, gorgeous girl. You’ve been asleep forever,” he whispers, his warm breath floating over the most sensitive spot of my neck, directly under my ear. “We’re in Albuquerque, and if I don’t eat soon,” he chuckles as he draws my lobe between his teeth, nibbling gently, “I may resort to cannibalism.”
Playfully waggling my eyebrows, I lift my hand to the back of his neck, threading my fingers through his rebellious hair. The flames of lust ignite inside me once again. “Oh, I can give you something to eat,” I tease, tugging on the dark strands.
A deep rumble vibrates in his chest, a cross between a laugh and a groan, while he wraps his muscular arm around my waist and rolls us both over. It leaves him flat on his back, wearing only a pair of jeans, and me straddling his hips, still completely naked from our earlier romps. Yes, romps, as in multiple times, with hardly any break in between. The man has impressive stamina.
His cock isn’t fully hard yet, but as his sultry gaze travels up and down my bare chest, I feel it swelling underneath my already aching sex. Impulsively, I press down on him, my body already starving for more of him after my revitalizing nap.
Shaking his head, his signature cocky smirk appears as his rough, calloused hands graze up my abdomen to my nipples, pulling firmly on the barbells. My back bows as a mixture of pleasure and pain washes through me, sending a flood of moisture directly between my legs. I bite my lip to hold back the groan, silently hoping he’ll yank harder.
“You’re for dessert, Sunshine. Didn’t you learn that rule as a kid—you always save the sweets for last or you’ll ruin your dinner?”
I try to think of something witty to reply with, but his magic fingers are still working my pebbled peaks, stealing all cognitive thoughts from my brain. With my hips brazenly grinding up and down then round and round on top of him, the feverish contact between my naked clit and the bulge beneath the abrasive denim catapults me from sluggish to sex-starved in zero-point-five seconds. I’m rubbing my juices all over his jeans, and I don’t give a fuck. My body thrums with carnal need, and I’ll be damned if we do anything else before I come, regardless of how hungry he is. That’s what he gets for waking me up all sex-god-like.
Gathering my long, tangled locks in a messy pile on top of my head, my inner stripper appears out of nowhere and takes over, and fuck if she isn’t one helluva lap dancer. His penetrating gaze never leaves mine as I rock, roll, shimmy, and shake myself to the brink of ecstasy.
“Harder,” I implore, arching farther into his touch. “I need . . . harder.”
His eyes sizzle with excitement. “God, you’re fucking incredible,” he growls, yanking on one of my darkened, erect nipples with one hand while leaning up to draw the other into his mouth. Worshipping my tight peak with his hot tongue, he sucks, licks, flicks, and . . . bites.
Oh, fuck yes!
The sharp sting of his teeth sinking into the delicate skin fuels the blaze of lust burning deep in my belly, sending the edge rushing closer. When he does it a second time, accompanied by a loud, tingling slap of his palm on my ass, I squeeze my lids shut and shatter into a million pieces of sensual release while praising his name like a deity.
Well, that’s one way to wake up from a nap.
Once my body stops trembling from the mind-blowing orgasm, I slowly open my eyes and find his smug grin staring back at me. Bending forward, my lips brush lightly across his in an appreciative kiss.
“Now I’m ready to eat, Hulk.”
El Pinto Mexican food restaurant is the fucking bomb. A combination of gorgeous, sprawling hacienda-style ambiance, delicious authentic New Mexico cuisine, mouth-watering pitchers of house fresh margaritas, and a fun-loving, exuberant group of people sitting with me around a patio table. My cheeks hurt from the permanent smile that’s been stamped across my face since the moment we stepped under the vine-covered arch and through the glass double doors. After several big O’s on the trek down here, and then this phenomenal meal, I’d have to say my impromptu summer road trip has started out a tremendous success.
“So you seriously know nothing about motocross or dirt bikes? You’ve never seen anything on TV like X-Games? Red Bull X-Fighters? Metal Mulisha? You don’t have any brothers into this stuff?” Gunner gawks at me in utter disbelief while the four of us finish our last drinks at the restaurant before heading back to Sandia Motocross Park, where the bus is parked.
Tapping my chin, I pretend to think for a moment then shake my head. “I mean I’m familiar with what the X-Games are. I do live in Colorado, the winter action sports mecca, but I don’t know anything specifically about motocross other than you ride a motorcycle on a dirt track stupidly fast and do crazy-ass stunts while flying through the air.”
Emilia bursts out laughing at my oversimplified explanation of what her husband and Levi do for a living, but the two guys are still in shock at my revelation. It’s like they’ve never met anyone else who isn’t up to date on all their lingo and shit. I should’ve never asked why people made that braaappp noise at the wedding . . .
“Oh, and I do have one brother,” I add, “but he’s eight and likes to snowboard in the winter and fish in the summer. If any of my sisters were into dirt bikes, it’d be Juno. She’s the athletic one—but softball and volleyball are more her thing.”
Another peculiar look from Gunner. “How many sisters do you have?”
“Five. There are seven of us total. All from the same parents, who yes, are still married.” I answer the questions I know are coming before he even asks. Everyone is always intrigued by the size of my family, especially in this day and age. “My family is a little . . . unconventional.”
“A little?” Emilia scoffs. “You call your parents by their first names, and you grew up on a weed farm! You’ve got the coolest fucking family ever. Plus, you all look like Barbie dolls! When I used to dream about running away from home, I either wanted to be a trapeze artist in the circus or a Shavell sister.”
Snickering, I wrap my lips around my straw and suck in the chilled, tangy strawberry margarita. “Either way, you would’ve been joining a circus. There’s never a dull moment in a house with ten people in it.”
“Sunshine,” Levi leans over to me, resting his hand on the inside of my thigh, right below the frayed hem of my shorts, “I promise I want to learn all about your family. They sound cool as fuck—especially the part about the weed farm—but can we get back to where you said motocross is driving fast and doing stupid, crazy-ass stunts while flying through the air? ’Cause if you’re gonna be my girl on this trip, we need to give you a crash course tonight in all things motocross, so you can truly appreciate my awesomeness when you see me in action.”
I blink hard. His girl? Did he already dip his grubby hand into Grams’ special cookies?
“Hulk,” I lift my hand up to cradle his chin, bringing my face close to his, “I’ve already appreciated your awesomeness in action earlier today, and it had nothing to do with dirt bikes. So unless you want to show me how you can eat dessert on one, I’ll pass on the crash course and embrace my lingo ignorance.”
His eyes grow wide at my suggestion, and suddenly, the space between my mouth and his is gone, obliterated by a searing, possessive kiss. My lips part on a quick inhale of surprise, and he takes full advantage of my momentary vulnerability, sliding his tongue into my mouth to tangle with mine.
Everyone and everything around us fades away while his hypnotic lips move over mine. The world could come crashing down all around us right now, and the only thing I’d be concerned about is how to prolong the mind-boggling way he makes me feel each time he kisses me. It�
�s like the first time every time. Pounding heart. Trembling hands. Fluttering belly. Sizzling core.
“Dude, I’d say get a room, but unfortunately, I’ve gotta hear you in there too,” Gunner jokes when we break apart.
I laugh a little too hard, a little too loud, still off kilter from the head rush. My body is on fire. Abruptly, I stand and announce the need to use the ladies’ room, hoping some cold water splashed on my face will cool me down. Unfortunately, when I meet them out at the Suburban five minutes later and see Levi is waiting to open the door for me, my inner thermostat cranks back up. Chivalry is fucking sexy.
After we return to where the bus is parked behind the arena, the four of us all go inside to freshen up before heading over to watch the locals race. I choose to leave on the shorts and tanks I’ve had on all day. There’s no point in making more laundry than needs to be done, especially when I look pretty fucking hot in it, if I do say so myself. A quick brush of my hair and teeth, a spritz or two of citrus body splash, and a single coat of my favorite lip gloss, and I’m ready to go. Emilia does something similar, staying in the clothes she’s had on, but the guys both change into shirts associated with their sponsors. Gunner’s is bright red with a big-ass fox head, where Levi’s is black, the color and logo matching the outside of the bus. Right before we step back out into the dry evening air, he grabs a ball cap and pulls it down on his head then grabs my hand and pulls me along with him into the parking lot filled with comparable setups to ours.
Lumbering across the black asphalt to the track entrance, Levi’s hand still holding tightly onto mine, a tiny stream of nervousness trickles down my back. I’ve never been to anything like this, and I truly have no idea of what to expect. For someone who usually doesn’t give a fuck about what people think about her, why do I suddenly care so much about what this guy I barely know thinks of me? Why is it important he’s proud of me in some way? Why now?