by Jayne Blue
Sly’s face darkened and he looked off to the side. “Hunting accident,” he said. My ass. The Great Wolves may have better manners, but violence was still their calling card, it seemed.
Sly straddled the seat and motioned for me to hop on behind him. My heart raced at the thought of being that close to him. But it was a means to an end. The sooner I got him to let his guard down, the better.
Except it wasn’t easy. When I slid my hands around Sly’s waist, my breath hitched in my throat. My senses filled with his masculine scent. It was intoxicating. I ran my fingers over the hard muscles of his abdomen, my touch lingering for just a moment before the bike roared to life between my legs. I worried that Sly could sense the war within me as I squeezed my arms around him and pressed my cheek against the smooth leather of his vest.
I liked him. He’d been rough and gentle all rolled into one. They all had. There was genuine affection between these hardened men. They were a family. At least, as much as I imagined a family would be. My own had never been traditional. I’d never known my father. My mother died when I was eight. It had only ever been my brother and me until I lost him too. But I didn’t want to think about that now. I survived by not thinking about it, not feeling it. Otherwise, it hurt too much.
When Sly took a fast curve, I held him even tighter; the muscles of his chest contracted and I could feel the hard lines there. He seemed so strong and solid, indestructible as he let the throttle out when we hit a straightaway. And I understood the appeal to this lifestyle in that moment as we rounded a wide curve. We had the highway to ourselves. There was nothing but open road ahead of us, a wide expanse of green pastures and grazing cattle and the looming mountain far head. The air was hot and clean and the sun warmed my face as much as the feel of Sly Cullinan’s body warmed my blood. It felt as close to flying as I imagined a person could get.
My pulse roared in my ears to match the sound of the engine. The speed, the smell of leather, the vibration between my legs: it was intoxicating. Around the next curve though, we reached the edge of town and Sly slowed the bike. We sped past the town square and a white brick church then he turned into the parking lot of the Hansen Hotel. It was actually more of a motel. The rooms were all on one floor with no interior hallway. He cut the engine in front of the lobby and peeled off his helmet.
His low laughter sent a shiver through me. “You can let go now.”
Startled, I hadn’t realized I had yet to unwrap my arms from his waist. The minute I did, I missed the warmth of his body.
“Sorry,” I said, a little breathless. I set my helmet on the seat of the bike and stepped away from it. “Thanks again. It sounds like you have a full day ahead of you so I’d better let you get to it.”
“Not so fast,” Sly said and his eyes flashed. “Look at me.”
And so I did. Sly’s face was flushed. He worked the muscles of his strong jaw as he regarded me. My eyes traveled to the strong pulse beat in his neck, then lower down where his t-shirt stretched across his well-defined chest.
“Come here.”
And I did that too. Sly slid his arms around my waist and tilted my chin up to meet his eyes again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have given you a jacket. Your skin’s like ice.”
“Is it?” I hadn’t noticed. Sly’s body had kept me warm.
“I want to get to know you better, Scarlett. I don’t even know your last name.”
I smiled as Sly ran his hands up and down my upper arms. I hadn’t thought about being cold but gooseflesh covered me where he wasn’t touching me. “Shaw,” I said. “Scarlett Shaw.”
And now Sly Cullinan knew more about me than any mark ever had.
I stepped around him and walked to the end of the building. My room was the very last door on the corner. I turned and Sly was right behind me. I leaned my back against the door and smiled at him. He got closer. Got bolder. He put a hand on either side of the door, caging my head between them. My heart thumped a wild beat behind my rib cage as his breath came hot against my cheek.
“Don’t leave town just yet,” he said. “I want to see you again.”
His eyes flashed. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk and the hint of that dimple started to show.
I found myself nodding when I should have run away. This was dangerous. This broke every rule. They were the same, Kagan and Sly, weren’t they? Of course they were. Except when I looked into Sly’s eyes, I wanted to sink into them, let him fold me in his arms and keep me there.
Feeling came to me in a rush. Heat coursed through me, settling between my legs. My heart pounded and I felt sure he could hear it. I slid my hand behind me and fumbled for the door handle.
“Sly,” I whispered. I reached up and let my fingers trace the curve of his jaw. He pressed his cheek against my palm. His skin was hot.
Then I broke the last rule.
I leaned forward and kissed Sly Cullinan. I needed to know what it would feel like before I did what I’d come here to do. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. I sank into him. Sly crushed his lips to mine. He slid his hand around, cupping the small of my back and drawing me close against him. My breasts brushed against the soft leather of his jacket and the hard curves of his chest. And I wanted oh so much more.
I threaded my hands through the hair at the nape of his neck and drew him even closer to me, letting him devour me with soft kisses that made me drowsier than the drug from last night.
And that’s what he was. Sly Cullinan was like some potent drug. Whenever he got close to me it felt like I might drown if he pulled away. When he let me up for air, my heart thundered beneath my breast. I laid a hand on his chest and felt his own furious heartbeat.
Then I turned and fumbled with the keycard. Sly pressed against me, drawing my ass against him. I felt the stiff outline of his cock and it drove me to a new kind of madness. In a near frenzy, I got the door opened and turned back to him.
Sly got his arms around me and lifted me. He kicked backward, shutting the door behind him.
“Sly,” I whispered his name. Did I mean to say stop? Don’t stop? Instead, I wrapped my legs around his waist and let him carry me to the bed. He set me down gently and everything that came after was fast, and hard, and good.
Sly threw his leather jacket in a corner of the room and ripped off his t-shirt. He was all hard lines and toned abs. He had intricate ink tracing his powerful forearms and the black silhouette of a howling wolf’s head over his perfectly cut left pectoral muscle.
As he worked his belt loop, I stood and clasped the zipper at my back. I had the same trouble as I did last night. I turned and Sly’s hands were on me. He traced my hips with his fingers, making me suck in a hard breath. Then he slowly drew the zipper down and my dress fell from my shoulders.
I turned back to face him and sank down to the bed, letting the dress slide down the rest of the way until I lay before him in nothing but my black strapless bra and lace panties.
He took a step back and stepped out of his jeans, letting me take in the perfection that was the body of Sly Cullinan. He was huge and hard and he stroked himself. His cock was thick, with corded veins and I wanted it. A fresh wave of heat shot through me. I grew wet, felt my hips undulate unbidden. My head was out of the picture; my body betrayed me as he stood over me and my panties became soaked. In another moment he would see for himself if I let this go any farther.
I could stop it. Somehow, I knew in my heart Sly was not a man to force himself on me. But then I’d be lying to myself. He was here because I wanted this. I shouldn’t, but for now none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was how badly my sex ached for him. I wanted him inside me, filling me, driving away all thought from my head.
“Come here,” he said, his voice commanding and husky with lust.
And I did. I throbbed for him. I knew I’d do anything he asked of me, anything, and beg him for more. If he’d only bend me over, drive that long, hard dick deep inside me and fuck me senseless.
> And that’s exactly what he did.
I turned my back to him and bent low, raising my ass in offering to him. I was wicked and shameless, wanting desperately to let go. Let him own me, if just for now. He put his hands at my hips and dragged my panties down to my knees. From this angle, I knew he could see everything. The air shifted and I knew he took a step back. I looked up, catching the scene in the mirror above the bureau on the other side of the room.
God. I was shameless. Sly looked at me with raw lust and it drove me even closer to the edge. With my panties still around my knees, I spread my legs as wide as I could, then lowered myself down to the bed, resting my chin on my hands. I arched my back. In the mirror, I could see Sly stroke himself as he looked at me. And there I was, stretched out, with my ass in the air. My sex clenched and throbbed; moisture pooled between my legs then ran down and glazed my thighs.
And he could see it. All of it. His eyes flashed as I squirmed before him, begging silently with the sway of my hips, the pulsing of my most sensitive flesh. All of it was an open invitation for him to claim me.
“Please!” And then I begged for real. “I want you so bad.”
Sly cocked his head to the side as I kept my eyes on his in the mirror. He reached out and ran a single finger down my slick folds, resting it on my sensitive bud. I shuddered and cried out. He took another finger and spread my lips apart, letting a gush of my juices flow out. He groaned.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered. “I want you to watch yourself. Watch me fuck you.”
He stroked me with those skilled fingers and I gyrated, pumping my hips back and sideways. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead into the bedspread.
“Look at yourself,” he said. He gave me a light slap on the ass with his free hand. I looked up. Sly’s eyes met mine in the mirror again. His mouth curved into a lustful smile as he worked me with his fingers.
“Look at you,” he said again. “Do you want me?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “Please.”
“You’re so perfect. I think this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He tapped my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I shuddered to contain it.
“This,” he said, tracing a circle around the nub. “And this.” He ran another finger across my now gaping lips. “I could look at this forever.”
“Please!” He was torturing me with ecstasy. I had wanted quick and dirty. But Sly wanted to savor every bit of my pleasure and his own. While he worked me, he stroked himself. From the corner of my eye in the mirror, I watched him grow thicker and longer. Now my mouth watered as well.
And then Sly finally reached the point where he couldn’t stand it any longer either. He squared himself at my entrance and I gripped the bedspread tighter, bracing to receive him.
Sly put one hand on the small of my back to hold me steady. He spread my lips wide with two fingers on his other hand then slid himself between them. I cried out when he entered me. He was so big, so hard, so thick. He stretched me wide but I took him in. All of him. With my panties still wound around my ankles, I struggled to spread my legs wider for him. But he had what he needed. He sheathed himself to the root and I grabbed the bed even harder. He didn’t warn me, he didn’t have to. He meant to fuck me hard and strong and I cried out to encourage him.
“Yes!”
Sly put a hand on each of my hips and rooted himself deep. My legs shook as he found his rhythm. It was hard, punishing. It made my teeth rattle. But it felt oh so good. I went up on the balls of my feet as he fucked me, pumping hard and strong. I arched my back and thrust backward, trying to match him.
I felt his balls clench against me as my juices ran down, making his passage slick. He moved one hand from my hip and slid it between the bed and my stomach, working his way down until he had my clit between his fingers again.
He thrust again while he worked me from the front. It was my undoing. I wanted this to last. I wanted so much more, but Sly Cullinan knew just how to play me. I gasped and moaned as the first waves of pleasure started between my legs. My clit grew rock hard between his fingers and I felt like I burst into a thousand tiny pieces as my orgasm ripped through me, causing shockwaves of pleasure from the roots of my hair to the tip of my toes.
I screamed through it. Some back corner of my brain wondered how thin the walls were but I didn’t care. In that moment, I didn’t care if the whole world watched as I let Sly Cullinan fuck my brains out. It felt too good.
I felt him shudder and he too went up on the balls of his feet. He reached back and grabbed the base of his cock. I thrust backward, inviting him to spill his seed but he hesitated. I was careless but Sly was not. I immediately understood.
He slipped out of me and I moved quickly. With my legs still quaking, I dropped to my knees before him. His eyes went wide but he was too far gone to question my methods. I put one hand on his firm buttocks and drew him into my mouth.
Sly’s knees shook and he groaned. “Scarlett,” he whispered, his voice ragged.
I couldn’t help but smile as I sucked him hard and stroked his balls. I looked up, keeping eye contact as I licked and stroked him with my tongue. He narrowed his eyes, still asking for permission. With his cock deep in my throat, I nodded and gave it.
Then his eyes rolled back in his head and his hands came around, sliding through my hair; he guided me up and down as I sucked the length of him. He didn’t last long after that. Sly jerked and shuddered. His knees buckled as he poured his seed into me and I swallowed every last drop.
This might be his last, but I was going to make sure what he got from me was the best. Sly cried out as he spurted out the last of his orgasm and I sucked him dry. He threw his head back and his knees buckled. I kept my hands firmly on his ass, delivering the same kind of torture to him as he had done to me. His whole body shuddered. A few more seconds and he wouldn’t be able to stand.
When I knew he was finished, I slowly withdrew. I smiled up at him and rose to my feet. Sly looked at me with wonder then gathered me into his arms, delivering slow kisses to my cheeks, my lips and down the column of my throat. Then he found the strength to lift me up and take me to the bed. His eyes shone with tenderness as he folded me against him and smoothed my hair away from my face. He whispered my name over and over and held me close.
We lay like that for a time, basking in the pleasure of slow exploration of each other’s bodies. I reached back and unclasped my bra. My breasts swung free and he cupped them, placing soft kisses on each nipple. He rolled his thumbs over them, marveling when they peaked. He reached down and sucked each one in turn, sending fresh waves of pleasure through me. I ran my hands down his broad chest, traced the lines of his tattoos. Then finally, he drew me close until my head rested in the hollow of his shoulder.
I felt safe and warm and knew that every bit of it was a lie. But I wasn’t ready to let any of it end. Not yet.
Chapter Seven
Sly
She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, maybe. I played with her long, thick hair and ran my thumb over the arch of her eyebrow. Her hair was dark, chestnut, but framed with golden blonde strands, bleached from the sun. She had high cheekbones and a broad nose. Her features were strong, from her square jaw to her full lips. There was nothing dainty about her. She was like some warrior queen. Scarlett wasn’t asleep, not all the way. She rested her head against my shoulder and her mouth stayed curved in a contented smile.
God. I wanted to make her look like that all the time. I wanted her sated and under me, smiling up at me with those gorgeous lips as I drove myself home. She was different, I knew that right away. I’m surprised we’d made it all the way to the hotel. It was all I could do to keep from pulling the bike to the side of the road and bending her over the fence that lined the pastures. Her lips had tasted like honey and sin when I kissed her. She was fighting something, I could see that. She probably knew better than to get involved with me. Even as she gave her body to me
, she held something back. I saw it in her eyes. Maybe she was just being cautious after what almost happened with the creep in the bar. I could understand that. But, whatever else Scarlett Shaw was, she didn’t strike me as the fragile type. No. I saw a fierce passion behind her eyes and in the way her body already responded to mine. It was like she was made for me.
And there was something about the way she carried herself. Little things. She didn’t try to hide or minimize her height. When she walked into a room, she seemed aware of herself and everyone in it. Like anyone would be in for a hell of a shock if they tried to sneak up on her. So how she managed to let some shit heel slip something into her drink had me wondering. The thought of what could have happened had my fists in a ball. I knew Colt and Sawyer took care of them, but I wished I could have gotten a lick or two in before we threw those two out in the alley.
She burrowed into my arm and I leaned down and kissed her again. I liked the way her whole body jolted and her nipples rose to peaks when I ran a light finger across the slope of her breast. I did it again and again. My dick started to grow stiff. In a few more minutes I’d start to ache for her again.
“Enjoying yourself?” she said.
“Baby, more than you can possibly imagine.”
She reached down and circled my stiffening cock between her thumb and forefinger. “I think I can imagine quite a lot.”
“Fuck,” I said, rolling to my back I looked up at the ceiling. “You’re making it hard for me to focus.”
She raised herself up on her elbow and pulled the sheet up. I had the urge to reach up and slide it back down. She had perfect tits. They were high and round with wine-colored nipples. She saw me looking and smiled. A blush reached her cheeks but it wasn’t from shyness. Scarlett leaned down and kissed me again, letting the sheet fall back down to her waist.
“How long are you staying in town?” I asked.
She ran her fingers through her hair then shook it out. It fell across the bed and brushed my arm. I gathered a long lock and wound it around my fingers. I loved it. If she were mine, I’d never want her to cut it. If she were mine ...