His blue eyes met mine. “You Sandy?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat had gone tight, leaving me no alternative but to nod.
After taking another quick look at me, he took a step back. He tilted his head toward the door. “C’mon.”
I shot him a deer in the headlights look. Somehow, I managed to speak. Kind of. “Huh?”
He did the head toward the door thing again. “C’mon, we’re leaving.”
“We’re uhhm...” I stammered.
He hadn’t even introduced himself. I looked at Lex. She shrugged. I looked up and blinked a few times. “Leaving?”
His eyes fell to my boobs. He grinned and coughed his response. “Yeah.”
I had just finished my period, and I was horny as hell, but I wasn’t an easy lay. I was pretty sure I’d let him fuck me at some point, but it wasn’t going to happen until I wanted it to. Hot biker or not, he was going to have to wait until I was ready.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said adamantly. “Not yet, anyway. You haven’t even introduced yourself. Sit down.”
He pursed his lips, looked me over, and then grabbed the seat beside me. After turning it around backward, he sat and draped his arms over the chair’s back. I glanced at his full sleeve of tattoos, but made it a point not to stare.
A colorful array of dragons, flowers, and skulls covered his right arm all the way down to his hand.
Interesting.
He cleared his throat. “Name’s Smoke.”
“Smoke?” I chuckled. “That’s your name?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
“Mine’s Fire,” I said with a laugh.
He didn’t seem amused. I wrestled the smile from my face and changed my tone to serious. “Seriously, what’s your name?”
“Smoke,” he said flatly.
“Okay.” I nodded and extended my hand. “I’m Sandy. Nice to meet you, Smoke.”
He shook my hand and gave a slight grin. “Ditto.”
His sexy appearance and handsome looks had my interest. The jury, however, was still out on him. As I stared back at him and tried to decide what to talk about, I wondered just where he thought we were going to go had I chosen to get up and leave when he asked me.
He tilted his head toward the bucket of beers. “You mind?”
“No, we ordered them for you guys.”
“Appreciate ya.” He pulled a bottle from the bucket, handed it to Cholo, and then grabbed another. After opening it, he drank half the bottle in one gulp.
“So, what do you two want to do?” Lex asked.
I shifted my eyes from him to her and shrugged. “I don’t care.”
I really didn’t. The excitement of meeting someone new had taken over, and whatever we chose to do would satisfy me.
“We could go for a ride,” Cholo said.
“We’re headed out in a minute,” Smoke said.
I looked at him. He was leaning over the back of the chair with the bottle of beer, which was now empty, dangling loosely from his fingertips.
Oh really?
“Relax,” I said. “Have another beer.”
He set the bottle aside and shook his head. “I don’t ride drunk. One’s my limit.”
I looked at Cholo, expecting him to laugh or say something contradictory. He grinned and nodded. “He never drinks more than one.”
I shifted my eyes to Smoke. He shrugged and then stood. “You about ready?”
The thought of leaving with him excited me, but I wanted to act indifferent. “Where are we going to go?”
“We’ll head to Belmont Park, get some ice cream, and then maybe take a walk along Mission Beach. Toes in the sand sound good?”
Holy crap.
A handsome biker who had so much confidence it oozed from his pores, and he was romantic.
Who was I to argue?
I grabbed my purse, stood, and then met his gaze. “Really?”
He leaned toward me, brushed my hair to the side, and then pressed his mouth to my ear. “No,” he whispered, forcing his warm breath into my ear. “We’re going to your place, get to know each other a little, and see what happens. Now, turn around, wave at your friends, and smile.”
Goosebumps raised along the biceps of both my arms. The thought of having sex with him was exciting, but I wasn’t a whore, and I didn’t want him to expect that sex was a sure thing.
“I’m not a whore,” I whispered.
“Didn’t say you were. We’re both adults, though. And, I think you’re hot as fuck.” His hand slid along my side and stopped at the small of my back. “You gonna wave at ‘em, or not?”
I turned around, swallowed hard, and forced a grin. “We’re uhhm. We’re going to go ahead and go.”
Lex’s eyes slowly widened. Her smirk returned. She must have known. Cholo pinched the bill of his cap in a biker ‘goodbye’ wave.
I shot him a nervous smile and turned around.
Now facing the door with my blind date at my side, I was anxious and excited at the same time.
“Uhhm. Tell me a little about yourself,” I said, hoping to rid myself of the apprehension that filled me.
“I’ll tell you everything about me.” He chuckled and then began walking toward the door. “I like riding, eating at shitty diners, drinking coffee, and fucking.”
At least he was honest.
He pushed the front door open, mean-mugged a man as he walked past us, and then motioned for me to walk though. I stepped onto the sidewalk, and turned to face him. I wanted to act like he hadn’t shocked me, even though he had.
“Your list. Are they in order?” I asked. “From favorite to least favorite?”
He reached for the back of my neck, gripped it lightly in his hand, and pulled me close to his chest. His eyes met mine, and he held my gaze for an instant. I struggled to swallow as he leaned forward, brushing his cheek against mine as he did so.
“That depends on how good you are at fucking,” he breathed into my ear.
Dear fucking God.
It was too much.
My eyes fell closed and my legs went weak.
He lowered his hand, leaned away, and gave me a look.
I don’t know if he was trying to drive me insane or not, but he was doing a good job of it. I stood in place, incapable of doing much else. With a wet pussy and a wandering mind, I tried to come up with one good reason not to fuck him.
I produced nothing, good or bad. Convinced that was the direction the night was going to go, my curious side presented itself.
“Why are we going to my house?” I asked.
“My daughter is at my place, and I don’t make it a point of bringing women around her. In fact, I’ve got a rigid policy against it.”
His response wasn’t at all what I was expecting. My mind instantly went to thoughts of him being married, and that he was a typical cheating douche.
“Are you married?”
He shot me a look. “If I was, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”
I felt like somewhat of a fool for asking, but not a complete fool. Men cheated, it was a fact of life. I’d been the recipient of some of it in the past, and I wasn’t interested in having it happen again.
“Guys cheat,” I said with a shrug. “I just thought--”
“Well, I don’t. Never have, never will.”
Hearing it was reassuring, but I couldn’t help but wonder about him being single, and about the child.
“So, you’re single?”
He motioned toward his Harley. “What did I just say?”
He took a few steps, and then paused when I didn’t immediately follow him. As he glanced over his shoulder, my curious side reared its ugly head again.
“Who’s watching your daughter?”
“Jesus with the questions,” he said with a laugh. “She watches herself.”
“What?” I snapped. “You can’t leave a child at home alone--”
He arched an eyebrow. “Listen, Sandy. I’ve been a single fath
er from the day after she was born until now, and she’s seventeen fucking years old. I’d really appreciate it if you don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with her, because considering all things, I’ve done a good God damned job of bringing her up. I’m pretty fucking proud of her, and of the job I’ve done.”
I swallowed hard. “Seventeen? You don’t look like you’re old enough to--”
“She’s sixteen. She’ll be seventeen here real quick. And, I’m thirty-four. I started young.” He reached for the helmet that dangled from his handlebars. “We doing this deal, or not?”
What little reservation I had about taking him home vanished after his speech about his daughter. I was right back where I’d started, only now I saw him as a handsome biker and a hot single dad.
“You got another helmet?”
“You ask a lot of fucking questions.”
I shrugged. “I’m a girl.”
He opened the compartment on the back of his motorcycle, pulled out a helmet, and handed it to me. “Yeah, every time you open your mouth, you remind me of that.”
“I’ll try and keep my mouth shut, then,” I said, my voice thick with sarcasm.
“That’s fine with me,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll let you know when it’s time for you to open it.”
I raised my index finger. “Oh, one last thing.”
He widened his eyes and cocked his head to the side.
“Can we stop at CVS?”
His brow wrinkled. “What?”
“I need to get protection,” I whispered. “In case we uhhm--”
“I’ve been clipped,” he said.
“Huh?”
He pointed at his crotch and then made the scissor finger gesture. “Vasectomy. I’ve had a vasectomy.”
I stole a quick look at him while he flipped switches and made adjustments. He was as handsome of a man as I had ever seen, and his confidence made him seem even more so. Feeling compelled to make my point, I pried my eyes away from his cute butt and cleared my throat.
“I’m on the pill, but that doesn’t mean we do it without protection. If we do it. I’m not saying we will, because we probably won’t. Not tonight. But, if it ends up that we do, I just think--”
He started the motorcycle when I was mid-sentence and began revving the engine. The high-pitched sound of the exhaust was impossible to speak over.
I couldn’t decide if he was an asshole, or just acted like one. Either way, I guessed, would produce the same result.
I could forego the asshole in him for one night.
And, regardless of what he said or I thought, I was sure that was as far as it would go.
Chapter One Hundred Nineteen
Smokey
After passing eighteen of her twenty get to know me questions, we sat around and shot the shit for an hour and a half. As much as normally hated the question-answer bullshit, I enjoyed our talk immensely. Then, about the time I was ready to call it a night and ride off into the sunset, she reminded me of my earlier offer to fuck her.
I’d never been one to deny a woman of her carnal desires, and I wasn’t about to start with Sandy.
We’d been fucking on and off for over an hour, and she’d reached a point that she could barely stand. Naked, and leaning against the kitchen island with a bottle of water in her hand, she gazed down at the floor and struggled to catch her breath.
Standing on the other side of the counter, I admired her body, long blonde hair, and ability to take a stiff cock like a paid professional. Most women would have begged me to stop after thirty minutes. Her willingness – and ability – to go an hour without complaint was pretty god damned impressive.
After several short choppy breaths, she looked up. “So…is this…what you…do?”
“No,” I said matter-of-factly, struggling to keep a straight face. “I normally don’t take breaks. But you looked like you were gonna have a fucking heart attack.”
She coughed out a laugh. “No…I meant…” She paused, looked at the ceiling, and then met my gaze. “Jesus…I can’t…I meant…the fucking. Is this normal?”
Typically, I didn’t get confused about anything, but she was doing a good job of changing that.
I looked her up one side and down the other. “What in the fuck are you talking about?”
“Do you always fuck like this?”
I wrinkled my nose and stared. “Like what?”
She shrugged. “Hard?”
“I only fuck one way.” I said. “If you don’t like it...”
“No.” She grinned. “I like it. A lot.”
I’d given her every inch of dick I owned, and I’d given it to her pretty good. If she was smiling afterward, we were far from done. I needed her to fully understand just what it was that I’d expect of her if she decided to give me another whirl sometime.
“Good.” I stepped back and stroked my cock a few times. “You ready?”
Her eyes fell to my crotch, stared for a moment, and then raised slowly. “For?”
I thought I’d made myself clear. Obviously not. I shook my head in disbelief and chuckled out a light laugh. “To start fucking again, what else?”
“Is this…” She set the bottle of water on the counter. “Is this a one-night stand?”
“I think you’re cool as fuck. But, I already told you, I don’t do relationships,” I said with a slight shrug. “Whether we see each other again or not depends on you, not me.”
She was a beautiful woman, there was no denying it. Her quick-witted personality only added to her attractiveness. If I was going to be in a relationship, she was the type of girl I would want to be with, but doing so – at least now – wasn’t an option.
And, by the time I was ready, she’d be like all the rest.
Long gone.
“I’m getting bored,” she said. “Are you going to fuck me or stand there with your cock in your hand?”
If nothing else, she was eager. I liked that she had enough confidence to talk shit, too. Her willingness to do everything I’d asked of her was impressive, but I needed to make sure she didn’t like me.
She could like fucking me, but that’s where the attraction needed to stop.
Determined to find her breaking point, I gestured toward her living room. “C’mon, smart ass. I’m losing my wood.”
She walked past me and into the living room, then paused.
Standing fifteen feet or so in front of me, and naked as fuck, she turned toward me and grinned. Her olive-colored skin, athletic body, and cute as hell face were enough to make any man want to fuck her.
Compelled to admire her perfect body, I stood and stared for a moment. She batted her eyelashes, squeezed her boobs together with her biceps, and smiled. The gesture drew me to her like a sexual vacuum.
My twitching cock reminded me to stop admiring and start fucking.
Her eyes fell to my crotch. “Oh. Wow.”
I wanted her to hate me, so I responded in a typical Smokey-ism. “Bend over the couch and finger your twat.”
I wasn’t naturally a prick. To be honest, I had to try pretty hard to accomplish the task. Having her finger her twat wasn’t something I wanted her to do, or anything that I particularly wanted to see. I told her to do it to make her think I was an asshole.
Having her feel that way about me would keep her at arm’s length and preserve my relationship with my daughter.
She didn’t ague or ask questions, she simply smiled, bent over, and stuck her finger in her sexy bald pussy. It was becoming painfully obvious if I wasn’t a single father, that she’d make the short list of women that I was attracted to.
Bent over with her chest flat against the couch, she fingered her pussy with one hand while she rubbed her clit with the other. Instantly, I went from not wanting to see it to becoming immersed in the sight.
After fingering herself into an audible lather, she added another finger.
It may have been her moaning that excited me initially, but watching her finger-bang he
rself with two delicate digits while she whacked away at her swollen clit with her other hand had my cock bouncing up and down like it used to in my teen years.
Her moans of pleasure combined with the sight of her picture-perfect pussy were too much. I tore my eyes away from her beautiful display of self-pleasure, and cleared my throat.
“Turn around and suck my cock,” I said with a tone of authority.
In my tenure as a biker, I’d been with all types. The willing, the not so willing, the talented, and the turds. I’d fucked the experienced, and given a little dick to a handful of virgins. Across the board, it was a fifty-fifty mix of those who were eager to suck a cock, and those who weren’t.
She stood, turned around, and dropped to her knees like a giraffe that’d been shot with a tranquilizer dart.
I guided my cock into her open mouth. “Impress me.”
And, impress me she did. Without hesitation, she took half my cock into her mouth. My eyes went wide at the sight of it. Half of it was equal to most men’s entire shaft.
With her mouth stretched wide, and her tongue pressed against the bottom side of my cock, she paused, looked up at me, and winked.
So far, the night had been limited to me fucking her doggy style in front if the couch, her riding my cock while I played with her tits, and me spending a few minutes with my cock between her massive jugs.
This was her chance to shine.
And so far, she was doing just that. If nothing else, I’d give her a point for the wink.
She forced my cock into the back of her throat, gagged until her eyes watered, and then pulled her mouth free. After giving the head of my dick a glare that would have scared most young children to tears, she licked a dangling droplet from the tip, and then attacked it like a wolf going after a dying sheep.
Her head bobbed like it was on a swivel. Drool ran down her chin and onto my nuts with each attempt at shoving it down her throat. I watched her until I was afraid I was going to blow a nut down her warm and willing throat, and then I pressed my hand against her forehead.
I couldn’t take it any longer. She was far too good at giving head, and I wasn’t about to have her feel like she’d outfucked me.
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