by Harte, Marie
She moaned and reached for his hand.
“No. Stay there, just like that. Let those tits feel the bite of the air.” He nipped her neck, and she cried out but didn’t move.
Lou had to free himself from the pressure building on his dick. “Put your hands over your nipples and pinch them,” he ordered while unzipping his jeans. With real speed, he withdrew the condom from his wallet and ripped it free. He had it rolled over himself in seconds and returned to her hot little body, shoving her hands aside while he took over fondling her breasts.
“Fuck me, you’re sexy.”
“So are you.” She turned her head, and slumberous eyes met his. He’d never seen anything more erotic in his life. And yeah, he was a total head case for thinking it, but he loved her smaller size, feeling like he could do whatever he wanted to her, and she’d be helpless to stop him. Macho and non-PC and sexy as fuck.
He groaned and kissed her again, letting go of her breasts so he could make short work of her pants.
She kicked her shoes off.
He pushed her pants down her legs and followed with her panties, then nudged them off her feet. He tore from her kiss, only to feel her awkwardly trying to kiss his cheek and what she could reach of his neck.
On fire to have her, to put an end to this unquenchable lust, he ordered, “Bend over,” but didn’t give her a chance to obey. As he pulled her hips back and shoved her legs wider, he positioned himself between her legs, right at the wet entrance to her sex.
“You ready for a fast fuck, baby? I’m hard and wearing a rubber. And I’m two seconds from coming in that hot pussy.”
As wet as she was, her body knew what she needed. He hoped she did as well.
“Please, Lou. I’m so—”
He shoved inside, thrusting without cease as her body gloved him as if made for him. He was two pumps from coming but refused to go off without her. Reaching around, he rubbed her tight little clit and withdrew, then slammed home again.
She cried out and clamped down on him. And the pressure, the heat, the clear arousal she felt for him… He lost it.
Lou grabbed her hips and thrust twice more before coming so hard, he saw stars.
Joey continued to whisper his name, shivering under him, those narrow hips still moving, her body milking him so hard.
After what felt like forever, he trembled, overwhelmed with sensation. The orgasm had short-fused his brain. And hers too, apparently, because she remained bent over the cutting table while he stroked her ass, unmoving while she caught her breath.
To his shock, he hadn’t done more than get semisoft. As if his dick knew he might never get another chance at this, he remained hard enough to go again if he went right away.
“Let me, baby.” He knew he’d filled the condom and didn’t care. He needed one more go.
“Lou?” She sounded sleepy. So satisfied.
He grinned as he pumped inside her, and it didn’t take him long to go from semi-erect to full-out hard again.
“Again,” he said.
“But—”
He slapped her ass then ran a hand up her front to grip her breast. “Again,” he growled, needing to show her he could… No, wait. He didn’t want to scare her off. This kind of play would only scare—
“Oh, yes.” She melted before him, tilting her ass up to allow for better penetration. “Yes, again.”
“Play with yourself. Get off when I do,” he rasped.
He didn’t give her a chance to change her mind and rode her into another orgasm while her clever fingers found a rhythm she clearly liked. When he found his release not long after, the feel of her body taking him to new heights made him weak at the knees.
Finally withdrawing from her, he nearly spilled out of the condom. Not wanting to jar her, he stepped back, zipped back up, and found a nearby trash can to dispose of the rubber.
Turning back to her, he saw her shaky as she reached for her pants and underwear.
“Let me.” He was quiet as he knelt, holding her panties for her as he faced her near-naked body. The small triangle of dark hair covering her sex was soft, so pretty. He would have leaned in for a kiss but wanted to show her comfort, not act like the raging sex fiend she probably now thought him.
She placed a hand on his shoulder while she stepped into the clothing. Her pants followed, and he slowly rose to fasten them for her. Which put him in line with her gorgeous breasts.
She hadn’t spoken yet. A glance at her face showed uncertainty. Which he couldn’t have.
“You are fucking beautiful,” he murmured and gently sucked each nipple into a little bead.
Her indrawn breath, the tentative cupping of his head before she threaded her fingers through his hair. She turned him on so simply with her acceptance. In Spanish, he said, “I want to suck you until you scream. To fuck you into a pile of warm woman. Again and again. God, I want you even more now, honey.” He kissed each nipple once more, then fastened her bra and buttoned up her shirt.
She just watched him, so small, so vulnerable.
“Ah, Joey. Bella, you get to me.” He drew her in for a hug, and she relaxed and hugged him back.
“I needed that,” she mumbled against his chest.
He laughed. “No more than I did. Damn, Joey, I really filled up that condom.”
He thought she might have laughed before she pushed at his chest.
When he let her get some space between them, she sighed. “That was, ah, unexpected.”
“No kidding.” He blew out a breath. “You made my knees weak. I’m not kidding.”
Her shy smile made his stomach drop. “Good. Because you made me feel so good. So fast.” Her blush amused him. “I don’t normally… I mean, I don’t have a lot to compare it to. But that was unusual for me.”
“Coming?”
She dropped her gaze to his chest and nodded.
“Yeah? Well, it normally takes me more than a few thrusts before I come too. And it’s really a big deal if I can go twice in a row like that. You got me so hard, baby.” And I’ll be ready to go again if you say the word.
But her shy smile and uneasy stance settled the matter. He’d pushed too fast already. Time to slow things down and not scare her away for good.
“So if you’re not busy this weekend, maybe we could hang out again?” he asked. “And not just for sex, though I wouldn’t say no to that. But I had a great time last night. Being with you.”
She glanced into his eyes, her face so full of expression, of freakin’ joy, that he wondered if she could hear how fast she made his heart beat.
“I have to see if I can make it. But I’d like to,” she added softly. “Can I text you?”
“Princesa, you can do any fucking thing you want with me.” He normally didn’t swear so much, but with his heart so full of…something…he was at a loss to maintain a cool dignity. “Tonight, tomorrow, Sunday. You name it, I’ll be there.”
She smiled. “I think I need to go home and let my jelly legs relax.”
They both laughed.
“But I’ll text you later about this weekend, okay?”
“Sure.” He leaned in and kissed her, a soft press of his mouth to hers, and hoped he conveyed how much tonight had meant. “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll talk to you soon, I hope.”
He walked her out to her car after she locked up. “Man. I am going to be dreaming about you again tonight,” he said as she got into her vehicle. Shit. Hadn’t meant to let that slip.
Her shy smile warmed him. “Again, hmm? Glad I’m not the only one.” Then she started up the car and drove away after promising to text him.
Lou whistled, pleased with life and knowing his evening could not be more perfect.
Hot sex—twice—with the girl of his dreams. A beer with the guys and a chance to screw with Heller again.
“Finally. L
ife is back to normal.” He grinned, feeling loopy, and walked to his car. Once inside, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He could still taste her nipples in his mouth, could feel the heat of her body gloving his finger, his cock.
His dick stirred to life again, and he blinked his eyes open and stared down at himself, wondering if being with Joey would be this enervating again or if tonight had been a fluke. He had been in a dry spell since first seeing her, after all. Because for some weird reason, no other woman but Joey would do.
And even after having had her, he still felt the same way.
Only time would tell.
Chapter 7
Lou stared around the table, pleased to see that Johnny, at least, had made it. He’d said he’d come, but now that everyone at the garage had girlfriends, the guys occasionally did couples shit instead of hanging out. Like Sam and Foley having to bail due to some chick thing their women had previously planned. But he didn’t blame them. Having had a taste of Joey, he’d have thrown the bastards over in a heartbeat if she’d suggested continuing their evening together.
“Hey, Casanova. What’s with the dopey smile?” Johnny asked. “Did the bear claw finally get the flower chick to that pity date you’ve been after?”
Lou cracked a smile. “Yes, it did. Foley’s better half did me a solid.”
Johnny laughed harder. “Better half, no kidding. I can’t believe Cyn hasn’t booted him out yet. I’m still thinking she’s into heavy drugs or something,” he teased.
“That one is a mystery,” Lou agreed. “But then, look at your woman. Lara is so sweet. How is it you two are a couple again?”
“I groveled like a pathetic moron,” Johnny confessed.
“Yeah, it took you a while to get your head out of your ass. But she’s worth it, right?”
Johnny gave a goofy smile. “Yeah. She’s the best.”
Lou held up his glass, and they toasted the lovely Lara. “Don’t fuck it up.”
Lara swung by with a fresh pitcher and leaned in to give Johnny a kiss. “Hey, sweetie. This is for you guys.”
“Thanks, baby.”
Lou grinned. “Gee, Lara. You bartending tonight?” Since she wore a black shirt with white letters that read “Bartender,” they knew the score.
“Funny, Lou. But with this crowd, it helps to be clear.” Lara took the money Johnny slid her and winked before walking away.
“She’s got a point.” Johnny nodded. “Look at what just walked in.”
Heller entered, and a path instantly cleared for him as he made his way to their table. A surprising addition trailed behind him.
“Well, well. Look who else decided to show.” Lou raised a glass and drained half of it. “Looks like the other half of the gang’s all here.”
“Except for Del,” J.T. Webster, Heller’s shadow, said as the pair joined their table. “But she’s married now.”
“So sad.” Lou commiserated with Del’s brother, who looked right at home sitting with her crew and Heller.
Interesting that Del and J.T. could act so alike yet look so different.
For one thing, J.T. was obviously African American. Light-skinned and with a resemblance to a popular wrestler-turned-actor, according to Del’s stepson, J.T. took after his father only in size and temperament. Technically he was Del’s half brother, since they biologically shared a father.
But Del and J.T. possessed such snarky senses of humor, it was easy to see that they were siblings.
Like the rest of the guys at the table, J.T. had a large build, huge arms, and an ability to get under Del’s skin. So, a natural fit for the group. Plus he owned an amazing tattoo studio and had done most of the ink in the place, including a few of the tats on Lou’s chest and upper arm.
“Nice to see you again, J.T.” Lou nodded at his fellow artist then at Heller.
Johnny nudged a beer glass at Heller. “Heller.”
“Johnny.” Heller glanced around the table, nodding at Lou, then not so casually looked at the bar.
Lou caught Johnny’s gaze and grinned.
They all knew the deal. Heller had it bad for Rena, everyone’s favorite single bartender.
Rena had cocoa-brown skin, tight golden curls framing a pixie face, and a trim figure just about everyone at the table had fantasized about at one time or another. Lou was no saint. Rena was fine, no two ways about it. He’d thought about asking her out when he’d first come to Ray’s years ago. But knowing she was a cousin to the Websters and understanding her kind heart and joyous personality probably couldn’t handle a nonpermanent relationship, he’d steered clear.
As had the rest of the guys. The Websters were protective about those they called family. And since he felt a reciprocal affection for the domineering clan, he had no problem watching out for Rena too. Heller surely had his hands full trying to win her over.
Though he’d made headway a while back, he’d since busted a few heads at Ray’s, and Rena had avoided him ever since.
“Should I get us more beer?” Heller asked, drank his down in one swallow, then rose for the bar before anyone could stop him.
“He’s toast,” Johnny predicted, pouring a glass for J.T. from their still-full pitcher. “Rena’s mad at some dickhead she dated for about two seconds. No way Heller gets anything more than a beer for his trouble tonight. Poor bastard.”
The guys talked about their latest projects in the garage and bet on how long it would take Foley and Sam to finally propose to their ladies.
Heller returned looking grim and slammed a new pitcher on the table. No one cautioned him about spilling beer.
“No good?” J.T. asked.
Heller slumped in his seat, sighed, and drank.
J.T. patted Heller on the back. Considered by the big guy to be a true artist, like Lou, J.T. often had a pass when it came to dealing with Heller. “It’s all good, man. Just give her time to realize you only pound bad guys. Last week just got a little messy is all.”
At Lou’s arched brow, J.T. explained, “The last time we came in, Fletcher mouthed off. You know Fletcher? That racist asshole with the stringy blond hair?”
“Oh, that guy. Good riddance.”
Heller grunted.
“He said something about Rena that Heller took exception to. Except Rena didn’t hear the mouthy part. She only saw Heller take out Fletcher and his cousins.” J.T. turned back to his buddy. “And speaking of which, you’d better watch your back, man. Fletcher has an in with some of the gangs running guns in town.”
“Whatever.” Heller muttered in German and poured another beer.
Lou and Johnny eyed him with caution before Johnny said, “He’s not going to go apeshit in here, is he? The last time he downed beer that fast, he wiped the floor with Argess and Monroe.”
J.T. laughed. “That was a fun night. No. He’d never drink that much,” he directed to Heller, emphasizing each word. “Not when Rena’s still watching him from her safe spot behind the bar.”
Heller sighed, took another sip, then pushed his glass away. “I’m hungry.”
Lou tried not to laugh but couldn’t help it. Another powerful man brought down by a woman with dimples.
Heller cursed in German, Lou answered in Spanish, and then the big German chuckled. “You’re such an asshole, Lou.”
“You got that right.” Johnny and J.T. clinked glasses, then Johnny said, “So if we’re not going to bug Rena or make fun of Heller, I think we should skip the trash talk and go straight to darts.”
“Which is all about trash talk, dumbass,” Lou said.
“Darts?” Heller sat up and blinked, then gave a slow smile. “I like darts.”
Lou grinned. “He might look like a bear, but he’s a softy at heart.”
Then Fletcher and his cronies moved toward their table. Shit.
“A softy, my ass,” J.T. mutt
ered.
“Hey, Adolf.” Fletcher sneered. “Let’s play.”
“Oh boy. Heller really doesn’t like being called that,” J.T. muttered to the group as they proceeded to watch Heller beat the crap out of Fletcher before turning to Fletcher’s friends. Bets were placed, beer flowed, and the night got steadily more entertaining.
Lou had seen Sam fight, and Sam was amazing with his fists. But Heller made the Terminator look like a pussy. He never flinched when hit. He just got mad.
Lou wondered what Joey would think of the place, of Heller, of his friends. He could see her tolerating the guys if not the atmosphere. Not with a heart that fragile.
He sighed and drank more beer, not surprised he couldn’t stop waiting for her to text him about this weekend. In the mood to treat Heller to something to eat, because watching the man fight was a thing of beauty, Lou excused himself to the bar.
“Rena, honey, we need food,” he said loudly to be heard over the rowdy crowd. A Friday night at Ray’s usually brought out the scumsuckers. Tonight was no exception. The place normally smelled of stale beer and burgers. Some smoke, because despite the no smoking signs, Ray didn’t actually enforce too much. A scarred wooden floor covered with chairs and tables, then some booths that weren’t too much the worse for wear lined the walls. A half-decent jukebox played a mixture of hard rock, alternative, and grunge music. The waitresses had threatened to quit if Ray put country on the machine.
A rowdy crowd of bikers, blue-collar stiffs like him and the guys, and other lower life-forms frequented Ray’s. It was Lou’s favorite place to hang out. Especially on a night like tonight. It felt good to be free from rules sometimes. Even better if he could watch the chaos from the outskirts, his hands safely protected from impacting some jackass’s jaw.
Rena scooted past her fellow waitresses, slid a beer to one beefed-up biker, took a bill, then sidled to Lou’s spot by the bar. “Whew. Are we busy or what?” She gave him her bright wattage of a smile, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “So what can I get you, handsome?”
“A plate of nachos, burgers and fries for eight.” There were four of them, after all. He paused. “And some water for Heller. He’s not drinking.”