Wreck (Fuel Series Book 2)

by Ginger Scott

  “Not fair,” he whispers against my mouth.

  I’m about to quietly laugh, feeling superior and completely in charge, when his hand leaves my face and soon his knuckles graze the small strip of satin between my legs. I shudder in response and squeeze my thighs around him. Now, he’s the one smiling.

  “Are we even now?” I say, opening my eyes to see his hot gaze staring down at me. He presses his entire hand against my wet center and I erupt immediately, my hand automatically flying to cover his, to keep his pressure sweet and hard as my swollen sex spasms over and over again. I have never had one of these that I did not give to myself.

  Dustin bends down enough to bring his mouth to my ear.

  “Not even close,” he whispers against me, and in the next breath his hand has tugged my thong to the side and his finger has sunk into me.

  “Oh . . . oh, God,” I gasp out in a meager voice, my breath failing me. His hand moves against me, his finger sliding in and out. My hips feel the urge to rock with him, and eventually, I can’t help it and they do. My hands return to his pants, to his hot length that is now almost completely exposed. My hand grips his width and he flexes under my touch. The sensation causes him to press his finger into me deeper, adding a second and stretching me wider. It burns, yet I crave it.

  “You’re so fucking wet.” His forehead presses into mine, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw rigid with self-control that is hanging on by a thread.

  I’m overcome with a desire to wrap my mouth around him, to taste him and bring him to his knees, so I slide myself forward enough that my feet find the ground and his hand falls away from my center. Before he can refuse, I kneel in front of him, dragging his pants down the rest of the way as my lips wrap around the tip of his cock.

  “Oh, fuck. Hannah,” he groans.

  “You better,” I tease, before taking more of him in my mouth. His hands fall into my hair, twining strands around his fingers but never pressuring me to move more than I already am. I coat him with my kisses, caress him with my tongue and suck as I reach his tip, driving him to near breaking points before slowing down and lightly kissing his sensitive skin.

  Unable to take it anymore, he lifts my chin and coaxes me to stand. He steps away from his clothes, plucking a condom from his pocket, then walks me backward toward the railing. We’re on display now. There’s no doubt someone isn’t seeing this, and my body aches at that notion. Dustin tears the package open with his teeth and rolls the condom on as I lean back against the rail.

  “I’ll be gentle,” he says when our eyes meet. And though the part of me that’s on fire wants to tell him “don’t,” the nervous girl inside who has never done this before knows better, so I nod.

  Dustin slowly rolls my thong down my hips, slipping it past my calves and tossing it to the side when it hits the ground. His fingers trail up the inside of my leg as he stands, stopping against my swollen center. He presses the most sensitive area with his thumb, rubbing circles against my slick skin before sliding his fingers inside me a few more times. Eventually, he steps in close, holding himself in one hand while his fingers still work me with the other. I hold my breath as he guides himself to my entrance, and with one thrust, his fingers are replaced with his cock.

  My teeth bite down on his bare shoulder, his skin salty with sweat. My hair clings to my body, and he slides it from my neck as he suckles my skin.

  “Is this okay?” he asks.

  I nod, my mouth still muffled against his body. He moves into me more and my body stretches, the burn more intense than before, but the reward as gratifying. While Dustin pulls out, my breath returns, and as he pushes in again, I whimper. His hands move to my face and he lifts my chin until our eyes meet, but I nod before he can ask. Yes, I’m okay. Yes, I want this. Don’t stop.

  I lick my lips and he moves his hips again, this time my hands roaming to his hips. My body leans back, still safe against the high railing, as Dustin bends his knees enough to slide into me completely, his length filling me more than before. Everything inside me swells, every nerve on heightened alert, my pulse beating around his swollen cock. I grow bold enough to lift my knee and as I do, Dustin reaches to my thigh and holds it against him as he continues to rock his hips.

  I glance up to see a few lights flicker on and off in the various windows above. Anyone seeing this right now is seeing love. They see a young lifetime of yearning and waiting, two souls meant to finally collide. They are seeing my heart break open to let this man in, let him own me. Again. And as the tension builds and my body quakes under Dustin’s control, four years’ worth of heartbreak dissipates, washed over by passion and heat and a connection I will never have with anyone other than this man.

  15

  She’s always been beautiful when she sleeps. Something about the after has made her blossom under my gaze overnight.

  I didn’t sleep. How was I supposed to after what we did? It’s not that I feel guilty for taking something so precious from her, but rather that I feel honored. I feel responsible. I feel chosen.

  I’ve loved Hannah for so long that I don’t know how not to, but now—now that I know her intimately, now that I’ve marked her as mine—the protective nature that made me leave her in the first place makes leaving feel impossible. I hope she knows that. I hope she believes it and trusts me. I’ll prove it to her, earn everything she’s given me. That’s what this trip to Vegas is all about.

  I’m sure it seemed rude that we left the club after Alex comped us, and I’ll have to smooth that over, but deep down, I also know he understands. It’s why he flirts with Hannah. He likes to toy with my weakness. It’s a dangerous part of his fabric, and it does make me question this partnership with him. But there isn’t any other way to make things happen. Not now, at least. It would take me a decade to turn that track around and save Camp Verde’s soul. I also hope it makes Hannah’s mom look like a hero. She’ll get full credit for the venture. I’ll tell everyone it was her idea. Whatever it takes for her to see that I’m one of them, that I love her daughter, that I am committed to this family for life.

  The soft knock at the door draws my attention and I roll over in the bed to see the time on my phone. It’s barely nine, early by Vegas standards. I’d worry it’s Tommy but I know he had more than a few beers last night, and I’m sure he found a way to spend his time. He’s not waking up early for anyone. It could be Bailey, since this is Hannah’s room, and that thought makes me wince a little.

  When Hannah’s phone buzzes from a text, I decide to check the door rather than snoop on Hannah’s privacy. I have a sneaking suspicion I’ll find Bailey waiting outside, staring at her phone. I slip on my pants from last night and run my hands through my hair enough to look semi presentable, though probably totally obvious, and peek through the hole on the door.

  As expected, Bailey is standing outside, chewing at the inside of her mouth, her eyes moving from my door to the one in front of her. She’s putting it together.

  I glance over my shoulder to Hannah’s body, still wrapped in expensive sheets and completely asleep. I take a deep breath and ready myself for condemnation and judgement, then crack open the door.

  Bailey’s eyes widen fast and her mouth forms an O. I look back over my shoulder to Hannah, then turn back to her visitor and hold up a finger, begging her to wait. I shut the door gently, search the floor for Hannah’s room card key, spotting it just under the end of the bed, then snag it before slipping back into the hall where Bailey and I can talk a little more freely.

  “Dustin Bridges,” she says through gritted teeth. She’s smirking a little so I know she’s not entirely angry. She’s distrustful, as all best friends should be.

  I hold up my hands to plead guilty and her eyes zero in on Hannah’s card key, as if she’s spotted evidence. I shake my head and drop my hands into my pockets and gesture my head to the right, urging her to follow me a few steps from Hannah’s door.

  “I’m not gonna lie, it’s totally what you think it is, but
Bailey—it’s Hannah.” I lift my shoulders in a guilty shrug and own my stupid grin. Her eyes soften from their glare and her smile breaks through.

  She points at me, her finger not quite touching me but coming close.

  “If you fucking hurt her—”

  “I know!” I whisper shout, holding up a scout’s honor sign. She wraps her hand around it and jerks it out of the air, tossing my own hand at me.

  “I mean it, Dustin. That girl just about broke completely.”

  I swallow at the gravity of her words.

  “I know,” I repeat in a croak.

  An awkward silence settles in, and when Bailey looks to my waist, her cheeks redden and she looks to the side. I think she probably gets the picture that I’m not wearing anything under these pants, and these pants? They were picked up in haste from the floor.

  “Let Hannah be the one to tell you, okay? She’ll want to. Don’t tell her you came by.” I don’t want to lie to Hannah, but I want her to be in charge of her narrative.

  Bailey nods lightly, but when her eyes flash to me, I see tears are threatening to fall.

  “Bails, what’s wrong?” I lurch toward her but she steps back, shaking her head.

  “It’s nothing.” I know a lie when it’s told. Especially the kind trying to cover pain.

  “Tell me. At least tell me what I can do.” I want to hug her, but she’s tightened up into a standing ball of nerves, her hands gripping her own biceps as she hugs herself tight. Her eyes blink as her gaze wanders down the hallway, the sound of someone’s door opening then falling shut making her blink. Both of us wait quietly as an older man clears his throat and works his falling pants back up over his belly as he meanders toward the elevator. I hold up a hand to wave to him but he just grumbles.

  “Vegas, huh?” I turn back to Bailey as her eyes shift to my gaze. She swallows hard.

  “My dad’s running for mayor. He’s the one fighting the Straights. He wants to destroy everything, and he’s just this awful, terrible person, and—”

  She collapses into me and breaks down completely. My arms wrap around her protectively and I cradle her head to my chest, feeling her wet cheeks stick to my skin. Poor Bailey. My heart hurts for her.

  I hold her for a few minutes, waiting out the irrational break that we all need to have sometimes, and then I hold on more as she steadies her breath. I match her inhale, coaxing her to mimic mine, and when she finally breathes out heavily, letting her lips flap, I let a tiny laugh break through.

  “Feel better?” I pull back.

  Her head wiggles side to side.

  “Maybe?” She pauses to glance up then lowers her gaze back to mine. “Not really.”

  We share a quiet laugh and retreat to opposite sides of the hall, leaning against the walls and looking down at the swirled, colorful carpet.

  “They probably pick designs based on what hides vomit,” I say, nodding to the design.

  “I think it’s all meant to confuse and lead you back to the slot machines, actually,” she says. I lean my head to the side and let my eyes glaze over enough to let a different picture form on the floor, one that looks like a river leading me down the hallway.

  “Huh, I think you’re right.”

  “I am.”

  I look up to catch her cocky smile and shrug and laugh a little louder this time.

  Bailey looks so tired. I doubt she slept, and she was probably in her room waiting for Hannah. I wonder how many texts she’s sent. That’s why she reached out this morning, I bet. To tell Hannah about her dad, to get it off her chest. I should give them time.

  “Hey,” I say, leaning my head back toward Hannah’s door. “Let me get my things and clear out, and I’ll wake her so she texts you back.”

  Bailey’s face goes white, and for a moment, I think she might pass out. I reach toward her and touch her arm, bringing her present. I point to my eyes and she looks into them, matching my steady breath.

  “It’s going to be fine. She’s Hannah. You’re you. You guys are necessary to one another, and she’ll understand.”

  Bailey nods but I’m not sure she totally bought into my pep talk.

  “And your dad isn’t so awful.” I lift a shoulder while she looks on with a more doubtful gaze, her brow drawn in. “I mean, it’s not like he buddied up with the cartel and got your mom hooked on dope. He just wants to make his town super safe and keep his daughter wrapped in a bubble and away from harm forever and ever.”

  She laughs out through a small burst of tears that she quickly dashes away with the back of her hand. Nodding, she steps into me for one more hug.

  “You’re right, Dustin. Thank you,” she says.

  I slip away and move toward Hannah’s door.

  “Don’t mention it. Give me five minutes, maybe ten.”

  She nods and I reach for the key card in my pocket. Before I press it to the door, though, Bailey stops me.

  “Hey Dustin?”

  “Yeah?” I whisper, prepared to help her through this.

  She studies me for a long second, and I start to worry she’s going to reveal something else, something that will shatter me. Instead, she gives me a gift.

  “You’re necessary to her, too. More than any of us.”

  I flatten my palm over my chest, my fingers covering Hannah’s initials, and I pat twice to symbolize my heartbeat. I leave Bailey with a smile and slip quietly back into the room.

  “Did you get coffee?” Hannah’s gravelly voice calls from the bed. I turn to find her sitting up and waiting amid a pool of soft sheets and pillows that have slipped from her shoulders to reveal her breasts.

  I bite my knuckles and she leans back to laugh just before I rush to the bed and pounce on her. She wriggles her body beneath me as I cage her between my arms and legs, giving in to the temptation to bite her pebbled, bright red nipple and saw at it gently with my teeth. I flick my tongue over it before sucking it and then letting go, sitting up on my knees as she lays flat beneath me, her arms splayed out along with her hair.

  I want to bury myself inside her again right now, but I made a promise to her best friend, and as needy a fucker as I am, I have to do what’s right.

  I bend down and press my lips to hers, pulling back as her hands weave into my hair. She whines and I chuckle as our kiss struggles to hold on.

  “I have to go. I need to find Alex and make sure things are okay, since we sort of bailed and all. And you got a text or two this morning. I think maybe Bailey’s looking for you?”

  Hannah blushes and rolls her head to the side, looking toward her phone.

  “She’s going to scold me,” she admits, scrunching her face when she turns back to me.

  “Probably. I’ll make it worth it,” I say, bending down and taking her other nipple into my mouth, sucking it just as raw, then crawling back before she can convince me to stay.

  Such a tease, she doesn’t bother to wrap her sheet around her body as she moves to the edge of the bed, and when she stands, heading toward the window, I have to physically pry myself from the room.

  “You are evil. I have to go. But when I get back, I’ll bring breakfast, or . . .” I grab my phone from the small table in the center of the room and check the time. “Lunch. I’ll bring lunch. And we’ll make the most of the hours left in this room. Or . . . out of it.” I nod toward the balcony.

  “Promise?” Hannah bites at her thumb and I rush to her to kiss her lips. My hand squeezes her ass as she does the same to me, and my cock stretches, telling my brain to knock it the fuck off.

  “Promise,” I say against her lips, peeling myself away and gathering my things before dashing from her room.

  Bailey is still waiting where I left her, pacing, but when I exit, her eyes flash to mine and I give her a quick nod.

  “You got this,” I say. “But give her a few minutes. She’s—”

  “I don’t need to know,” Bailey says with the wave of her hand, her eyes squeezed shut. We’ve scarred her for life.

&nbs
p; I chuckle my way into my room, and my body is still humming with glee, so much so that I don’t notice Alex sitting in the chair in the corner of my room until my second pass through the main area.

  “What the fu—”

  He stands, laughter spilling from his chest, arrogance oozing from every pore in his skin.

  “You have a good night?” He eyes the mutual wall I share with Hannah.

  I clear my throat and will my pulse to behave enough for me to play the role of tough guy right back.

  “Not any of your business. What are you doing here?” I move around the table, something inside telling me to keep this bulky piece of furniture between us. I’m not sure whether it’s to protect me, or him.

  “You left last night. We didn’t get a chance to talk about the deal and all. And, well . . .”

  My stomach twists. I feel sick and I’m sweating so much. I swear he must see it. I keep my steps measured, and breathe through my nose.

  “You still want in, right? It’s a good deal, Alex. It’s going to be a huge success,” I say.

  “Oh, I believe you. And I know it will. But I was hoping, just to make sure. We’d like to run the labor contracting. We’ve done a lot of developments is all, and we have standards. It would make me feel better about the millions I’m investing.” He moves back to the chair he was sitting in when I arrived and pulls a bundle of papers from the side, carrying them toward me then setting what looks like a new contract on the table.

  “We took the liberty of drafting a new agreement with the contracting noted. Not a big change, and you can still have . . . Virgil? Is that his name?”

  I nod. He thinks Virgil really is my lawyer. Or he’s making fun of me. Probably that latter.

  “Have him take a look. I think you’ll find it in your favor, though.”

  I glance down at the first page of words I don’t understand. I’ll give this to Tommy in the car, but when we get home, I have every intention of letting Mr. Judge look over it with a fine-tooth comb. I have my suspicions, but I don’t want to lose what could be a great thing based on the hinky feeling in my stomach. I need actual reasons to blow up a dream.