by Jessie Cooke
She nodded and the next thing he knew, her hot lips were right next to his ear and sending a chill down his spine. “I’m good. I was just thinking about what I told you the other day, about wanting to travel. I don’t want to be her age and regretting that I didn’t.”
Maz dropped his hand down on her leg and squeezed it lightly. He suddenly wanted to travel himself…with her by his side, or more aptly, on the back of his bike. He wanted to see her eyes light up when she saw the swamps in Louisiana or the skyscrapers in New York. He wanted to be the one that gave her the world. The waitress interrupted his thoughts when she suddenly appeared to take their orders. They both ordered the teppanyaki steak and rice, and Maz put in the order for Rhonda to go. He felt his own leg being squeezed under the table and Marissa was looking up at him with a grateful smile.
“My mom really likes you,” she told him.
“Good. I really like her too. I like her energy.”
Marissa laughed and said, “She’d tell you that you were crazy if she heard you say that. She’s kind of had a hard life and her self-esteem is not so good. It’s better now that her medical stuff is stable and she’s not so depressed. But she doesn’t see herself like other people do. I’ve always told her she has this vibe that draws people to her, but she doesn’t believe me. She says I’m her daughter and I have to say things like that.”
“Well, I don’t have to say it,” Maz said. “I was drawn to her from the first day I talked to her on the phone. Something about her seems…familiar, even.”
“Well, Mom is pretty open-minded about things. She’d probably tell you that you met in a former life. That’s what she used to tell me when I was little…that the stars aligned one day, and the universe conspired to bring us together.”
Maz thought that was an odd way to describe having a child, but before he could ask her more about it, the cook showed up with his tray full of food and began pouring oil on the table in front of them. They sat and watched as he piled slices of an onion on top of itself, poured oil in the center and lit it on fire, making a volcano. After they applauded him for that, he started asking everyone how they wanted their steaks, and as soon as Marissa told him how she liked hers she put her lips to Maz’s ear again and said, “I’m going to the ladies’ room…and I was just thinking…”
He looked down at her. Her cheeks were red and there was that desire in her eyes again. He was almost afraid to ask what she was thinking because he was afraid it wouldn’t be what he suddenly had in mind. With a smile he said, “What were you thinking?” The chef was cooking, things were sizzling, and everyone at the table had their eyes on him. Marissa checked anyway – to make sure no one could hear, Maz thought – and then she put her hand on his face and pulled him down closer before she said:
“I’ve never had sex in a public place, what about you?”
Maz wondered if she wanted him to be honest and the snake was rising up, afraid he was going to say the wrong thing. He looked into her big hazel eyes and he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to her. “Yes…but not with anyone I wanted to be with more than you.” Her eyes softened even more, and he knew he had made the right choice before she whispered:
“Meet me in the bathroom in one minute.” She smiled at the old lady, who was watching them. Maz stood up as she left the table and when he sat back down the old lady said:
“You two are such a cute couple. At first I thought you were related, but I can see by the way she looks at you that I was wrong. She’s not wearing a ring, though…”
Maz laughed. He supposed they did have the same coloring, and her hair was slightly curly…but that was as far as any resemblance went. “It’s only our second date,” he told the woman.
“Dixie, mind your own business,” her husband said. That at least distracted her so Maz could slip away from the table while they argued in that way couples who have been together forever often did. He made his way to the front of the restaurant, near the sushi bar, where the bathrooms were located. He didn’t know how many stalls were in the ladies’ room, so he knocked. Marissa opened the door, took him by the collar, and pulled him inside. The outside door didn’t have a lock, but there were two stalls in the bathroom. She took his hand and led him into the larger of the two, the handicapped one, he assumed. Once they were in the stall and the door was locked she said:
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never act like this.”
Maz smiled and pulled her up against him. “It’s okay, ma chérie, I like it.”
11
Marissa really had no idea what it was, why he affected her this way. Maybe she’d just opened the floodgates, and it was five years of pent-up sexual energy overflowing. But now wasn’t the time to question it. He was looking down at her with a smoldering, lustful look and she felt the animal that had risen in her core the night before begin to claw at her insides again, begging to be let out. The problem was, she’d been so brave inviting him into the bathroom, but now she wasn’t sure what to do next. She needn’t have worried, though. Maz took her hand in his and placed it over the growing erection in his jeans. She could feel the heat, and her stomach filled with fluttering wings as she ran her hand along the outline of it and remembered just how huge he was. She let her hand run up and down it for a few seconds, enjoying the way he had his teeth gritted together and his arm bracing himself against the wall. She was making him weak in the knees…and she loved it. She was focusing on him, and somehow his other hand had been sneaking up under her dress without her noticing. She was soaking wet and wishing she’d brought a change of panties. When his fingers touched the ones she was wearing, he moaned and said:
“You’re so wet…”
“For you,” she whispered. “I want you so bad, Maz.”
“Thank God,” he said. “I’m not sure I could enjoy my dinner with this thing in my pants.”
She laughed and said, “How should we do this?” She knew it wasn’t very romantic…but they probably didn’t have a lot of time before someone came in…and she wanted it, bad.
He bent down and kissed her. It was one of those hard, passionate, tongue-sucking, lip-biting, rock-my-world kinds of kisses. And then while she was still breathless, and the room was still spinning, he turned her around toward the wall and whispered, “Press your palms into the wall, chérie.”
She did as he asked and felt her dress being flipped up over her panties in back. He ran his finger down between her thighs and her wet pussy and she groaned. Then he hooked it into the crotch of her panties and pulled them down over her ass and thighs, leaving them around her knees. It made her feel slutty to be standing there like that in the bathroom, but sexy at the same time. Especially when Maz grabbed a handful of one of her cheeks and squeezed it with a groan. “So fucking beautiful,” he said.
“Fuck me, Maz.” She heard his pants being unzipped and then suddenly she felt that massive cock against her flesh. He was holding it in his hand, stroking it against her butt cheeks. She wiggled back into him. God, she wanted him inside of her. She was burning up from the inside out with need.
“Ma chérie, I don’t have a condom.”
“I don’t care.”
“Are you sure?”
“Maz, please…” She was begging a man to fuck her without a condom in a public restroom. It was almost so insane that it was funny. She was about to laugh when she felt him press the bulbous head of his hard cock against her pussy. She whimpered instead and pushed back against him. He let it go in a couple of inches, and the feeling of his hot, bare flesh nearly sent her over the edge that quickly. She felt one of his hands snake around, over her shoulder and down into the front of her dress, and bra. He took hold of one of her breasts firmly and began massaging it as he advanced himself into her further.
“All the way,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Fuck me, Maz. Stop worrying you’ll hurt me. I want it. Give it to me, please.” Marissa figured since she’d gone so far as t
o invite him to have sex in a public bathroom, she may as well talk to him like the wanton slut he probably thought she was. She pushed her hips back again and said, “I’m so wet…I want you so bad.”
Maz groaned and pushed forward, filling her up all at once and causing her to cry out in surprise. “Damn it, I hurt you.” She felt him starting to retreat.
“No! God, no…it feels so good.” She wanted him to fuck her hard. She wanted it to hurt a little. She’d read enough about sex to know that wasn’t all that uncommon. She didn’t want him to burn her with candles or anything, but she did like the idea of being manhandled and fucked so hard that she could barely walk when they were finished.
Maz let out another primal sound as he slowly pulled himself back and then slammed forward. The only thing that kept her from slamming into the wall was his hold on her breast. He was so strong that her arms weren’t going to be enough. She let herself go forward the next time he slammed into her and pressed the side of her face into the cold wall. He brought his hand up from her breast and slipped it under her head. Holding it there so that he didn’t knock her out, he began to fuck her, hard. After a few seconds she could tell from the noises he was making and the way that he was drilling into her that he was consumed by what he was doing and no longer worried he was going to break her. Each one of his thrusts came with a grunt from him and an erotic cry from her that came from deep in her throat and bubbled out over her lips. Her body was on fire, her mind filled with the most intensely erotic feelings she’d ever experienced. She’d heard of that kind of primal, animal-like attraction, but she’d never imagined just how intense it could be.
She had her eyes closed and there was nothing in her mind other than just simply how good she felt…when she heard the outside door open. “Fuck,” she heard Maz whisper against the side of her face. He’d stopped moving and she wondered where this crazy, unbalanced sex-addict inside of her came from when she heard herself say:
“Keep fucking me.”
“Someone’s here.”
“I don’t care. Please don’t stop.” Something about a stranger being on the other side of the door excited her even more. She felt another wild rush of fluid cover her and him both, as he began to move again. The woman had turned on the water; she was probably washing her hands. Marissa wondered if she could hear the subtle grunts and the noises that her wet pussy was making as Maz drove his huge cock in and out of her. Something about that triggered her inner beast again and with a moan that she knew the woman had to hear, she bore down and let herself go, flooding him with her orgasm and even feeling it run down her legs.
“Oh my God,” he whispered, undoubtedly loud enough for the woman to hear, as she suddenly rushed out the door. “Fuck…you just squirted on my cock…oh my God!”
“Is that bad?” she said. Maz was still moving, still pumping his big cock in and out of her, but she felt his body shake with a laugh as he said:
“Mon bébé sexy, c’est parfait.”
“English?” she breathed out.
“My sexy baby, it’s perfect,” he growled. Marissa felt her body flood with a new warmth. This one settled in the center of her chest and filled her heart. He called her “my” sexy baby. That was even better than the sex. He thrust up into her again. Okay, it was just as good as the sex. “I’m coming, ma chérie.” His voice was raspy, like he had a sore throat. He put both hands on her waist and even through her dress she could feel his fingers digging into her. She was going to be bruised, and sore…and it was going to be totally worth it. Marissa felt his release, and her whole body began to shake. Maz was lost in his own feelings for a few minutes, rocking into her over and over until at last, his body seemed to relax and he used his hold on her waist to pull her up into him. He kissed the side of her face and said, “So perfect.” She nodded, enthusiastically and said:
“Yes, you are.”
He opened his mouth to say something else when suddenly the outer door opened again and they heard a woman’s voice say, “They’re in there, see?”
Maz pulled out of her quickly and tucked himself into his shorts. She pulled up her panties and smoothed down her dress. Unsure what she was going to say, Marissa turned and unlocked the stall door. When she saw the woman, and one of the restaurant staff staring at her, and beyond her into the stall where Maz stood behind her, she said, “Hello. Is there a problem?”
The woman looked at her incredulously and said, “Um, yeah, I have a problem with people having sex in public. I’m calling the police.”
Marissa’s stomach was suddenly churning but she hoped how nervous she was didn’t show. Instead she summoned an indignant look and said, “Are you kidding? You thought we were having sex? That’s disgusting!” She took a step to the side and reached over and pulled up Maz’s shirt. Sweat was rolling down the side of his face and he was still breathing heavily. “You see that, it’s his insulin pump. He was down to 35 and about to pass out. I brought him in here to sit down and clear his head and give him his glucose. You can check the monitor if you don’t believe me.”
The woman looked skeptical, but the man in the black apron looked horrified. “We’re so sorry,” he said. “Please forgive us. Sir, can I get you anything?”
“No,” Maz said, speaking for the first time. “I’m feeling better now. Sorry for the trouble…sometimes it plummets, and I start to sweat and shake and moan…I go a little out of my mind. Thank God for my girl.” He put his hand around Marissa’s waist and Marissa focused her eyes on the nosy woman’s face. The woman looked up at Maz again, then back at Marissa and said:
“Sorry.” She still didn’t believe them, but judging by the waiter’s reaction, she probably knew she wasn’t going to be able to prove they’d been having sex.
“No problem,” Marissa said with a smile. “I’m just going to let him splash some water on his face and we’ll be right out.” The woman turned on her heel and left. The waiter said:
“Take your time, please. I’ll guard the door.” Marissa nodded at him and as soon as the door closed, she fell back into Maz. The room was spinning, and she thought she might throw up.
“Oh, Jesus. What did I just do?”
Maz was laughing when he turned her around to face him. “You just gave me a memory that will last a lifetime.” He kissed her softly on the lips and said, “Merci, Belle.” She didn’t need him to repeat that. After two days, she was already learning.
12
Maz and Marissa had been seeing each other for almost two weeks. She drove him crazy with lust and he couldn’t get enough of her. But he was also enjoying the closeness, the intimacy. It was like he suddenly had a new best friend. They didn’t spend every minute together; she had to work during the day and he’d been on nights for over a week…but they did steal every minute they could get. The sex was off the hook. She was this sweet little demure woman during the day, one who worked in customer service and took care of her mother. In bed…or a bathroom stall, on the back of his bike, and on a blanket in the mountains…she turned into an animal. She was wild and sexy…almost insatiable. He fucking loved it.
Tonight was his night off and he’d wanted to take her out. But Wolf had called an emergency meeting right after he picked her up. So now he was in church and he’d left her in the care of Charlie, Ash’s cute little teenage sister who kind of reminded him of Charity…just not as mean. He hoped Wolf made it fast. They were going to miss their reservations as it was, but hopefully they’d still have time for dinner afterwards.
“Everybody here, finally?” Wolf growled. Their president was a hell of a leader, but he hated to be kept waiting. His patience was all stored in the small, wiry body of his vice president, Manson.
“They’re all here, boss,” Manson said. The VP turned and looked at Bruf, who got up and went to the back door. He opened it and a young woman stepped inside. She looked scared and her face was bruised like someone had beaten the shit out of her, pretty recently, at least within the last week or so. She also ha
d a sling on one of her arms and an ugly red cut on the other that looked like it was trying to heal. Maz felt his blood pressure going up. There was nothing worse than someone who would hurt a woman or a child, in his opinion. He hoped this meeting was about sending them out after the son of a bitch that had done this to her.
“Boys, this is Kiera. Kiera is from Boston. I got a call from Dax Marshall. He is asking us to give Kiera a safe place to stay for a few weeks, or months…however long she needs.” Dax Marshall was president of the Southside Skulls, their Boston chapter. Wolf paused again. Maz knew there was more to the story than that. Having a guest staying at the club would be solely Wolf’s decision, and if that was all there was to it, he would have just made it. “Kiera, would you like to tell them your story?” Wolf asked.
The pale, broken woman rubbed her arms up and down like she was cold, and she began to talk in a quiet, shaky voice. “I work at a bar in South Dorchester. I met this guy a couple weeks ago. He’s a Southside Skull. His name is Johnny Bartlett, they call him Jammer. We’ve seen each other a few times and so last Friday night he was supposed to pick me up after work. I closed that night and my coworker left; he said he had to pick up his wife or he woulda waited with me. I told him to go on, I was okay. Anyway, I was waiting out front for Jammer, having a smoke, and these guys drove up in this lowrider. There were three of them.” She stopped and shivered hard.
“Kiera, are you cold?” Wolf asked her, gently. For a huge, hairy guy he could be pretty gentle when he needed to be, especially with women.
“Nah, I’m just nervous,” she said. Maz’s heart went out to her too…she looked miserable. “Sorry,” she said. “Um…these guys, I could tell they were bad news as soon as they got out of the car. They had Neponset Nikka tattoos…”
“Excuse me,” Manson said, “Do you mind telling the guys who the Neponset Nikkas are?”