She rubbed her eyes. “You’re naked. What are you doing?”
“You’re naked. What are you doing?”
She reached for the covers. “Covering myself up. I’m cold.”
“I just woke up,” I said.
“Crap.” She sat up. “What time is it?”
“5:50. It’s Saturday, stay right where you are. I’ve got to piss, I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
I relieved my bladder of the previous night’s beer, and then washed my hands. As I stood in front of the sink, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
What did you do to deserve her?
Not a damned thing, I decided.
I washed my face and took another look at myself. I didn’t have self-esteem issues. In fact, I would consider myself as an extremely confident man. But. I was a realist.
I hadn’t changed. My manner of living life hadn’t, either. The feelings I felt, however, were all new to me. Experiencing them caused me to fear that one day things may change, leaving me with nothing but a yearning I wouldn’t be able to resolve.
I didn’t want to feel drawn to a woman, in need of her companionship, or reliant upon what she offered me. Being drawn to Joey, in need of her companionship, and reliant upon what she offered me, however, made me feel that my life wasn’t all for naught.
Her knocking on the door startled me.
“What are you doing in there? I’ve got to pee.”
I opened the door. “Thinking about taking a shower.”
Wearing a pair of sweats, and my previous night’s tee, she looked adorable. “Think about letting me pee.”
I waved my arm toward the toilet. “Pee.”
“I can’t with an audience.”
“Me neither.”
I stepped aside and let her walk past me.
“Please close the door, thank you.”
I pulled the door closed, and stood outside waiting. As soon as the toilet flushed, I pushed it open.
“Have any plans today?”
“No. Not really.”
“Not really, or not at all?”
She turned on the water and glanced over her shoulder. “Not at all.”
Her hair was a mess, the clothes she wore were dirty, and they fit her like a tent. She wasn’t wearing any makeup. Yet. She stood before me defining everything that I believed to be beautiful.
“When are you going to get sick of me?” I asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “Sick of you? What’s wrong with you?”
“You don’t think that one of these days you’re going to look around you and decide that maybe I’m not the one for you?”
She turned toward me and shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“Me? This? Us? Whatever you want to call it.”
“I uhhm. I don’t know. I just--”
“You know what?” she asked, her voice thick with frustration.
“What?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I guess I probably should have, so I will. When we made love, had sex, fucked, whatever you want to call it. The first time? Do you remember when that happened?”
The air between us was thick with her anger.
I swallowed heavily. “Uh huh.”
“That was the first time for me. I’d never done it before. I always expected the heavens to open, angels to sing, and unicorn dust to rain down on me when I had sex for the first time. You know, that the emotional part of it would be as good or better than the sex itself. Well, guess what?”
I had no idea she was a virgin. I felt like a complete idiot. An almost silent what? puffed past my dry lips.
“All of those things happened. Every one of them,” she said. “Even the unicorn dust. And guess what else?”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea about. I mean.” I stammered. “I wondered because--”
“I’m making a point,” she snapped. “And I’m not done yet.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll tell you what else. It happened again. Last night. Dust and all.”
I swallowed hard. I felt the same way, although I had no idea what unicorn dust was. During sex, everything with Joey was different. It wasn’t simply going through the motions or committing the act.
It was an experience. An experience, that despite the amount of times I’d had sex in the past, was new to me.
I felt like a shit heel. And, I was standing in front of her naked. I felt vulnerable and foolish. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was taking that from you. I would have been more gentle.”
“Taking what?”
“Your virginity.”
“Taking it?” She coughed a laugh. “You didn’t take anything. I gave it to you. Because I trust that you won’t do anything to hurt me. I trust that you’re here for the long haul. That you’re going to be different than everyone from my past, and that you’re not going to leave me. Are you going to leave me, Percy?”
I swallowed hard. “No.”
“Are you going to get sick of me?”
“No.”
She pressed her hands to her hips and shot me a glare. “The only way I’m ever going to leave you is if you ask me to. In the absence of that request, I’m going to assume you want me to stay. And, I will stay. Forever. I can say that without hesitation, because after feeling what it’s like to have you in my life, I can’t imagine living a day without you. Am I going to get sick of you? I think not.”
“Okay. So, what you’re saying is, if I don’t ask you to leave, you’re going to stay?”
“That’s what I said.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what,” she said.
“Take off your shirt.”
She looked confused. “What?”
“Take. Off. Your. Shirt.”
She lifted her shirt over her head and then tossed it onto the floor. “Anything else?”
I took every inch of her into my view. Her pale skin was smooth, and without fault. Her body was remarkable. Her curves undeniably sexy.
“Ditch the sweats.”
She pushed the sweats down her legs and kicked them to the side. “What now, boss?”
“Boss, huh?”
“You are the boss, aren’t you? The badass biker boss?”
I chuckled. “You’ve got a case of the attitudes today, don’t you?”
“You made me mad.”
Her eyes fell to my crotch. The corner of her mouth twisted into a smirk, and then she looked up. “You’re not mad though, are you?”
I glanced between my legs. My cock was as rigid as a stone. “Sorry. That happens sometimes.”
She grinned. “Around sexy bitches.”
“Get your sexy ass in the shower,” I said.
“Being in the shower will come in handy.”
“Why’s that?”
“We can wash the unicorn dust off when we’re done.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Joey
The water rained down from the oversized showerhead, covering us both with a warm wet blanket. His chest was pressed against my back, and his hands cupped my breasts. Although his stiff dick danced back and forth between my inner thighs, he had yet to give me so much as a taste.
He was teasing me, and I loved it.
His mouth pressed to my ear. “Reach up and get ahold of the showerhead. Both hands.”
I did as he asked, arching my back in the process.
“Spread your feet apart.”
I stepped to the side with each foot.
As the water cascaded down along the length of my body, his hips formed against the curves of my butt. I felt the tip of his dick against my swollen pussy. The sensation sent my mind reeling, and then he pulled it away.
Please.
Give it to me.
“I want it,” I muttered.
The stubble from his jaw tickled the side of my face. “Did you say something?”
I didn’t want him,
I needed him. I swallowed hard. “I want it.”
“Want what?”
“Your dick,” I muttered.
It felt so good to say it. The water that dripped from me hid the fact that my pussy was absolutely soaked.
And it had nothing to do with the shower.
“Where do you want it?” he breathed.
“In me.”
“In your mouth?”
I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth in anticipation. The hot water, his muscular body against mine, knowing his dick was between my legs, and the countless minutes of teasing was killing me. I wanted him so badly, I’d accept anything. Sucking him to completion in the shower would satisfy me entirely.
My lips parted slightly. “Sure.”
“In your ass?”
“I don’t. I…” The thought initially frightened me. Then, it excited me. I needed him inside of me, and at that moment, anywhere would satisfy me. “Sure.”
“In your tight little pussy?”
I wagged my knees back and forth, released the showerhead, and turned toward him. “Please.”
“Get your hands back up there,” he said, his voice more demanding than normal.
I grabbed the showerhead as if my life depended on it.
He reached around my left hip, and slid his hand between my legs. I felt the tip of his finger penetrate me.
I sucked a breath.
He pulled his finger from inside of me, and then slid his hand up my stomach, over my breast, and along my neck. It came to rest with the web of his hand against my chin and my jaw gripped between his thumb and forefinger.
He turned my head to the side. “Tell me one more time. What do you want me to do?”
I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed him to fuck me so bad I was in pain. My entire body felt as if it were on the verge of bursting.
“I want you to fuck me,” I growled.
“Atta girl,” he said.
He pushed the tip of his cock into me in one thrust, taking the breath from my lungs when he did so. Despite my pussy being overly ready, the shower’s water seemed to make things slightly more difficult.
With one hand still holding my jaw, and the other now alternating from one boob to the other, he moved his mouth to my ear. “Arch your back.”
I gripped the showerhead firmly, and arched my back, hiking my ass as high in the air as I could.
In return, he shoved me full of dick.
“Oh God,” I cried out.
I was stretched to the point of being torn in two. His dick filled me completely, hitting spots inside of me that I had no idea existed. Clenching my jaw firmly in his hand, he turned my head to the side and pressed his lips firmly against mine.
He kissed me aggressively, withdrawing himself partially while he did so. Before giving me ample time to mentally recover, he shoved himself inside of me again.
Oh God.
Our mouths parted. He looked me in the eyes. “That’s where you wanted it, right?” he asked. “In that tight little pussy of yours?”
“Uh huh.”
He pulled away, paused, and then drew a breath. “Ready?”
“Oh God.” My muscles tensed. “Yes. I’m ready.”
His hips pounded against my ass, bringing his dick with them in the process. The air shot from my lungs and my mind went to jelly.
“Hold onto that shower head,” he demanded.
He gripped my hips firmly in his hands. And, while I held the showerhead in mine, he began to fuck me like he was teaching me a lesson. I wondered just what I did to send him into such a furious frenzy, only because I needed to know how to do it again.
The heat from the shower, my increased heart rate from the sex, and the fact that I was getting a stroke of dick per second proved to be too much for me to handle over any measurable period of time.
A tension built within me that cause me to fear what might follow.
It was apparent he liked it when I was vocal, and although it wasn’t natural for me to be so, I chose to step out of my comfort zone for a moment.
“I want you to come,” I said.
“Come inside of me,” I begged. “I want it.”
The hot water beat down against my chest, each drop feeling like a small needle against my tender nipples.
His hips continued to pound against my ass, filling the shower with the sound of our sex. My clit was being pummeled by his balls with each full stroke, and I wondered just how much longer I could take it.
“Come, please,” I said through my teeth. “Fill me with it.”
I felt him begin to swell.
His breathing changed.
Thank God.
He released my hips, but continued his fast-paced pounding. His hands slid up my body and came to rest on my boobs. He gripped the wet flesh in his hands, and began to knead them as he pinched my nipples.
Yes.
Please.
When I felt that I couldn’t possibly last another second, I felt my inner walls contract against his thickness.
“Come…please…come.”
He erupted inside of me with such force that that it sent a sensation through me I was sure to never forget.
Then, I followed.
“Oh…my…God,” I wailed.
The orgasm shot through me from my toes to my nipples, and then returned, repeatedly. It wasn’t simple, it wasn’t short, and it wasn’t an orgasm.
Whatever it was, it was the plural form, because it continued for some time. Over, and over. With it came a wave of emotion, and when it ended, the emotion remained within me.
My legs went weak.
He caught me in his arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No,” I said, as if he’d asked the dumbest question ever. “You just boned me until my brains turned to mush.”
He cradled me in his arms. “I was trying to prove a point.”
“Which was?”
“I don’t know. I think I wanted to make sure you were never going to leave me.”
The fact that he mentioned it was aggravating. “After that speech I gave, you weren’t sure?”
“Not completely, no.”
“Maybe I ought to do the same thing to you.”
His brow wrinkled. “What’s that?’
“Try to bone you senseless, just to prove a point.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said with a laugh.
“It’s going to be a while,” I said.” I still can’t feel my legs.”
“We’ll need to get that resolved. If you’re never leaving me, I’ve got someone I want you to meet. And, I’m not carrying you.”
I liked the thought of meeting more of his friends.
“Well, then stop punishing me with sex.”
He scrunched his nose. “Forever?”
“No,” I said. “Just until we get back from wherever we’re going.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
P-Nut
I sat at the edge of the couch with my legs crossed and a bottle of beer dangling from my fingertips.
The sound of her muffled voice came from behind the bedroom door. “Ready?”
“I’ve been ready,” I shouted.
“Are you sure?”
“Damn it, Joey. My bones are getting brittle.”
The door opened. A flat-bottomed shoe extended beyond the door, and then a leg followed.
“I like what I see so far.”
Dressed in a blue sleeveless shirt and black yoga pants, she emerged into the hallway. The shirt accentuated her breasts, and stopped just shy of the waist of her pants. Her normally straight hair was curled into a big wad of fun.
She looked breathtaking. I stood up and swallowed heavily. “Jesus Fuck.”
“What? Bad?”
“Bad? There’s not a damned thing you’ll ever wear that’ll look bad. But some things will sure look better than others. That outfit’s one of ‘em.”
She spun in a circle. “Do you like it?”
She was the type of woman that could walk into any room and gather the attention of everyone within eyeshot, regardless of what she was wearing. Sometimes, however, she looked far better than others.
This was one of those times.
“I fucking love it. You look adorable.”
“Thank you. What do you think about the clothes? Do you think they make me look good?”
“The clothes don’t make you look good, you make the clothes look good.”
She giggled. “Thank you. But do you like the outfit?”
“I love the outfit. You ought to model that shirt for whoever makes it. Looks like it was made for you. And that little ass of yours is killin’ it in those yoga pants.”
“They’re not yoga pants, they’re leggings.”
“Whatever they are, they were made for that cute little butt of yours.”
She looked embarrassed. “Thank you.”
I raised my bottle of beer. “Thank you.”
“Okay, I’ll be back.”
She disappeared into the room. After a few moments, she opened the door. “Ready?”
“Stop asking. Just surprise me.”
Out she came in a pair of painted-on jeans, a short-sleeved fitted tee shirt, and a pair of heels.
“Jesus jumped up Christ.”
Her eyes shot wide. “What?”
“Take that shit off.”
“You don’t like it?”
“Actually, I love it. But if you keep it on, you’re gonna get it.”
“Get what?”
“The dick.”
She cocked her hip. “You’re going to give it to me if I don’t take them off?”
“That’s right.”
“Fine.” She took a step toward me. “I guess you like it?”
“I mean it.”
“Do I look scared, mister?”
“Joey…”
She took a few more steps toward me.
“Joey…”
Her curly hair bounced with each perfectly placed step. She looked like a model. The living room was her own personal runway, and I was her audience. Although in the seven years that I’d known her I’d never seen her wear heels, she sure knew how to navigate in them.
She paused at the far end of the couch, pressed the web of her hand against her waist, and arched her back slightly. “You’re going to give it to me, huh?”
F*CKERS (Biker MC Romance Book 7) Page 93