“Aubrey,” Charlie begins pulling back slightly, but I refuse to release him.
“Shhhh,” I whisper. “Trust me. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Charlie looks into my eyes, as if peering directly into my soul. I hold his gaze and let him read the truth of my statement. I won’t hurt him. He’s been hurt enough already. Finally, Charlie pulls me to him. I prepare to receive his kiss, but he pulls me into a hug. He holds onto me like a lifeline. I hold him, saying nothing. “I do, Aubrey. I do trust you,” he finally whispers into my neck.
“You have my word,” I say and I mean it.
Charlie releases me. I see the fear and hope on his face. “Charlie,” I breathe, touching his lips with my own again. “I want you.” Charlie takes my lips and returns my kiss gently. I can feel his need, but he still seems hesitant. “What?” I ask, looking into his face. He has such a handsome face.
“It has been a long time,” he says with a shy smile.
“I know it hasn’t been easy,” I say, kissing his lips gently before moving to his cheek, then his eyes.
“I mean, I haven’t been with a woman in a long time. I’m…uh…”
I can’t help but smile. “You’re not a virgin are you?” I tease.
Charlie laughs softly. “No, but…”
I smile at his embarrassment, finding it charming. “How long has it been?”
“Five, six months maybe.”
“Oooohhhh,” I coo. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
“But not for very long, I’m afraid,” Charlie says with another of his small smiles.
“You just let me worry about that,” I purr in the most seductive voice I can manage. As Charlie moves his glasses from the bed to the bedside table, I take him into my embrace. I reach around him from behind to begin unbuttoning his shirt. I don’t know if it is because of the danger and how Charlie has protected me or the fact that he is unlike any other man I have taken to my bed, but I am as turned on as I have ever been. I need Charlie like no man that I can remember.
When he turns back to me, I practically attack him. I have always liked to fuck and I don’t mean making love. I mean, Come on. Let’s get it on. Bang the shit out of me. Fucking.
Charlie muscles me off of him before rolling me over and pinning me to the bed. I stare at him, silently challenging him to try to subdue me. As I look into his face, I see something there I have never seen in another lover: tenderness and compassion. He has a softness in his face that dulls the sharp edge of my need.
Charlie stares at me for several long moments. He looks at me as if he is trying to memorize every detail of my face. Then, with infinite slowness he lowers his lips to mine. I realize the need is still there, but the raging beast within me is tamed by that look. I still want Charlie. I desperately want him, but I realize I don’t want to fuck him. I want more than just the satisfaction of the flesh. I can feel my very being relax, as we share the best kiss I have ever had. It’s long, slow…and dare I say it? Loving.
As he pulls back from the kiss, he smiles at me again before releasing my hands. He says nothing, as he begins to slowly unbutton my shirt. His lips and tongue follow the ever widening gap. I can feel my breathing speed up as his ministrations begin to amplify my need.
Charlie kisses and licks. Each touch of his lips and tongue finds a point of pleasure. In the length of time it takes him to slowly remove my shirt and bra, I would normally have some guys cock inside of me; but, this is better. This is so much better.
His tongue swirls around my breast, teasing the nipple to erection with the most erotic of tortures. His hand is busy, loosening my pants. As soon as I feel the button become free, Charlie begins to kiss his way down my body, taking his time. I marvel at his steel-like control. If I had been six months without sex, I would be screaming by now. Hell, it’s only been a couple of weeks for me and I still feel like screaming with what Charlie is doing to me. But Charlie takes his time, winding me up.
“Fuck!” I gasp, twisting Charlie’s hair in my hands. “Charlie, you’re driving me crazy,” I gasp as I begin to squirm. The feel of his lips on my stomach lights me up, as if an electric current is pouring into me from his touch.
As Charlie moves ever lower, I begin to pant in anticipation of his touch. I desperately want it; but, he passes over my pussy and kisses the inside of my thigh. “No,” I groan, pulling on his head. I try to steer him to where I want him. Here I am about to come and he isn’t even undressed yet.
Charlie refuses to be rushed, but finally he begins to kiss and touch me where I want him. My God! I can’t be still. I move and thrust as I whimper. He simply will not finish me, holding me on the knife edge of my orgasm until I think I am going to lose my mind. “Charlie, please!” I beg, as I gasp and move. No man has ever done this to me. I am loving it and hating it at the same time.
Charlie finally takes pity on me and begins to probe more forcibly with his tongue. His finger strokes me, as he presses on “the” spot inside of me. I come with the power of a hurricane. The pleasure flows through me, as I wail out my release. I have never screamed in the throes of an orgasm before; but, fuck, I look forward to doing it again. As my orgasm washes free of me, I shudder with a groan. “Fuck,” I gasp, as I throw an arm over my forehead. I keep my eyes closed as I try to catch my breath. “I’m wiped out, you asshole.”
I feel the bed move as Charlie settles beside me. “Are you okay?” he asks. I can hear his smile in his voice.
“Yeah. Just give me a minute. Then, you’re going to get it.” I open my eyes and turn to look at him. He’s lying in the bed. His shirt half open from where I started unbuttoning it. The opening allows me a peek at his chest. Oh yeah, he is so going to get it. “Come here, you,” I say, pulling him to me.
The kiss is like a battery, recharging me. It causes my need to once again spring to life. I push Charlie over and he goes without protest. Taking a cue from Charlie, I slowly strip him. I stare into his face as I remove first his shirt, then pants and underwear. Once he is exposed to my touch, I begin to work my way down his body. I kiss, suckle, and explore every muscular ripple. I purr in anticipation of the delights yet unexplored.
When I reach his cock, I tease him with my tongue, giving him a taste of what is to come. Then, I suddenly plunge him into my mouth. Charlie’s gasping groan sends my desires leaping again. The sound of his pleasure ramps up my need. I fellate him mercilessly, trying to do to him what he did to me. To have been so long without a woman, he holds out far longer than I would have thought possible. Finally, I can feel his reserve begin to crumble. “Aubrey, stop. You’re going to make me come,” he begs.
That’s all I need to hear. I release him and swing a leg over. I take him into my hand and steering him inside. “Now, let’s see if I can make you scream,” I say seductively, as I impale myself on his hardness.
I begin to thrust on him, the feel of him inside me exquisite. Charlie groans as he takes my breasts into his hands. He gently kneads them as he rolls the nipples softly between his fingers. I thought I had him under my control, but now I think it is going to be a race, a race to see who comes first.
We move together for a few minutes before Charlie begins to gasp and moan. I stare into his face. The intensity of his visage causes my pussy to contract in need. I can tell I am going to come again and it’s going to be a hard one.
Suddenly, Charlie reaches for me. He pulls me roughly down and pins me to his body with his strong arms. I feel him raise his legs, planting his feet on the bed. Then, my God, does it give it to me. He begins to drive into me with the power and the speed of a jackhammer. He growls low and deep in his chest as he does. I gasp as my orgasm begins to overtake me.
Charlie’s sudden desperate need thrills me at a very deep level. Before I fall into my own orgasm, I hear Charlie bark loudly as he begins to come. He still pounds into me, whimpering as if in pain. His grip is almost painfully tight as his body tries to curl into a ball. I want him to hold me tighter still. There
is something about Charlie giving me his all, holding nothing back that causes my orgasm to explode within me. I begin to wail once again. My voice staccato with our tender violence. Then, with a sudden gasp, we both fall limp, gasping and panting in release.
I feel Charlie relax under me, his grip loosening. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
I can feel my eyes well with tears. No man has ever asked me if he has hurt me. “No,” I whisper.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie asks, pushing me up. “You’re crying.”
I can read the concern on his face and it touches me deeply. “Nothing,” I gasp, as I kiss him softly. I don’t know what was happening to me. I like the feelings Charlie is giving me; but, they frighten me, as well. I put my head back on his shoulder. I just want to feel his touch, as he softly caresses my back and neck. I close my eyes as the tears, the tears I can’t seem to stop, slowly run down my cheek.
I’m still wondering what is wrong with me as I slip into sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
We awaken early the next morning. Sometime in the night I had moved off of Charlie’s chest. I find myself lying in the crook of his arm, more comfortable than I can ever remember being. “Are you okay?” Charlie asks, as I begin to stir.
“Yes, why?” I ask.
“I was just worried. You were crying after we…afterwards.”
I smile, feeling more like my old self. “I guess having you fuck the shit out of me made me kind of emotional.” I rise up and kiss him on the lips. “Everything is fine. In fact, I expect a repeat performance tonight.”
I can feel Charlie relax. “I’ll do the best I can,” he says with an impish grin.
We get dressed and have breakfast in the hotel dining room before Charlie takes me home for a quick change. We are watchful, but see no sign of the Demon Knives or Darren. Charlie drops me off at work and I kiss him before I get out of his car. I don’t know why, but having Charlie drop me off at work with a kiss seems so right and natural that I have to smile.
I’m practically walking on air, as I stride behind the parts counter to put down my things. Darren will probably be around later to give me a ration of shit, but I don’t care. I don’t think anything can dampen my mood at the moment. I can feel my stupid ass grin still on my face, as I open my locker to stow my purse.
My scream brings the entire staff running.
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Tarnished Steel
Carmen Faye
CHAPTER ONE
Four Years ago
Derrick Unger and Hank Park pulled up to the liquor store at ten in the morning and parked their 450 thumper dirt bikes against the wall of the building where the cameras didn’t have coverage, according to Derrick’s scouting. Hank still wasn’t sure about the reliability of Derrick’s planning. What was bothering him most was if the plan took Derrick into account.
Derrick was twenty-eight. Hank was thirty-three and feeling like he was getting to be a little too old to mess around knocking over liquor stores. However, the steadiest thing Hank had going on in his life was the Steel Riders MC, of which Derrick and himself were patch holders. So, really, a good robbery like this might be just the thing to give him some insights into what to do with his life — besides robbing another liquor store.
This liquor store’s owner was under the impression that driving all the way to the bank to drop off his money more than once a week was a hassle he couldn’t be bothered with. Derrick knew where the man kept his extra safe, and knew that it was opened by a key on the man’s chain rather than a combination. It was the size of the weekly drop, and the knowledge Derrick seemed to possess about the owner and his ways, which made going in on this heist with him sound like a good idea — until he saw oil. Something told him right then to get on his bike and ride away.
“Derrick, you are leaking oil,” Hank told him.
“What? Where? Oh, shit,” Derrick said, and he knelt down to check where the leak was coming from. “Fucking little hole in the oil reservoir, can you believe that shit?”
“Let’s call it; we can do it next week. No good with bad equipment,” Hank told him.
“Oh, come on, fuck that,” Derrick told him. “It’s just a little leak. I’ve still got more than half in the reservoir, which is plenty to get this baby to where she needs to go,” Derrick said, standing and giving the thumper seat a loving pat.
Hank looked the six-foot, lanky, blond, blue-eyed man over, and didn’t like what he saw. “If that engine blows—”
“I’ll jump, and ride bitch on yours. These are 450s. Plenty of power to get us down the trail and up to the clearing, just as we planned,” Derrick assured him.
Which was probably true, Hank figured. These little monsters were fast, powerful, and ate trail like nothing he had ever ridden before. A far cry from his Harley Low Rider, but that was apples and oranges, really. No, these were the best trail monsters, by far, that he had ever been on.
“Look, Derrick, the plan is already changing for the worst and we aren’t even inside yet. Fix the fucking hole, and let’s go next week.”
“Fuck that, fuck that, no! I’ll fucking go in myself, then,” Derrick said and began to turn to walk away.
Hank’s instincts told him to let him go. But some fucked up partner thing inside him had him off his bike and moving after him. “This is bullshit Derrick.”
“Maybe, but fifteen grand of bullshit,” Derrick told him.
“Which I suppose will be a bit of cash on our books in prison,” Hank hissed. “Don’t go further than you have to, Derrick. Keep it tight and get the fuck out of here.”
“Shit, I can handle myself,” Derrick said.
“No one suggested you can’t, but with the oil leaking, we don’t have time for delays. No fun and games.”
“No fun and games for me,” he said, and then as they crossed the threshold, Hank swept the store for anyone else inside, which, as luck would have it, there wasn’t, because Derrick didn’t wait for Hank’s signal.
Derrick’s .45 went off, blowing a hole into the counter top beside the cash register. “Don’t put your hand there!” Derrick ordered the man behind the counter.
Then: Boom! “Back up!”
Boom! “Back up!”
Boom! “Back up!”
Each shot blew apart bottles on the shelves next to the man, forcing him to move away, further down the counter toward the entranceway and into the corner.
Boom! “Back up! Good, now kneel,” Derrick said and boom! shot the bottles above the man’s head, making him reflexively crouch down, at which point he knelt.
“Perfect.” Derrick smiled under his mask. “Keys, please. Just give them up. You don’t want me trying to blow them off you. Did you see how close I came to shooting you a couple of times there? I’m not that good of a shot. So just give them to me.”
The man tossed him the keys on his belt.
Derrick tossed them to Hank, who moved as fast as he could to the back where the weekly drop safe was supposed to be. Finding the safe, he lucked out on finding the right key. He opened it up and found — less than five grand. Probably closer to four grand.
Motherfucker!
But now wasn’t the time to hash it out with Derrick. Now was the time to get this crazy fucking idiot out of the store and back to the club house, where he would give him all of this money, and then beat the crap out of him.
“We’re out! No more shooting!” he said as he passed Derrick.
Apparently Derrick didn’t hear him, because he emptied the rest of his clip into the bottle display around the man, pouring broken glass and liquor over him.
Then he stopped, opened the register, and pulled out the few twenties that were there, while also setting off the alarm.
The alarm was local and loud. Hank was on his bike and had it started. Derrick finally came out of the fucking store, laughing and dancing.
/> “Fucking get on your bike or I’m leaving you!” Hank said it, and he meant every word of it.
Derrick seemed to get it too, because he quit dancing, got to his bike, and got it started. In the process, he dropped his gun. Hank saw him drop it — Hank didn’t miss details — but he revved the thumper and took off down the getaway route they had planned. Derrick could follow or get his fucking gun.
Derrick chose to follow, Hank saw in his rear-view mirror. “I’m so going to kick his fucking ass when we get back. What an amateur, childish display of bullshit!” he said to himself.
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