Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition

by Elizabeth Knox

  “What else did she tell you?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “The hell it doesn’t.”

  “All good things. Now shut up and kiss me.”

  His eyes drop to my mouth, and he murmurs, “Yes, ma’am.” A split second later, he covers my lips in a soft kiss. Another trip around the dance floor and he’s pulling me out a side door and into a darkened hallway. The coat check is back toward the main hall to the left, so he pulls me to the right and into a darkened alcove under a set of stairs. We’re totally alone, but the music carries to us. Sheryl Crow’s “My Favorite Mistake”.

  He grins down at me. “There’s your girl. I remember you used to play this CD over and over.”

  I cock my head to the side. “I still do.”

  “I want to run my fingers through your hair, but I’m afraid to touch it. How many pins you got holdin’ it all up?”

  “Lots.”

  “Damn it.” His eyes move over it. “Still as long as it used to be?”

  “Close.”

  “You always had such gorgeous hair. Thick and silky.” His eyes drop to mine. “You gonna let me take you home, Sara? Let me pull all those pins out of your hair?”

  I cup his face, and pull his mouth to mine, whispering just before his lips land on mine. “What do you think?”

  Then I show him the answer with my kiss.

  After long minutes of kissing and clinging to each other, he lifts his mouth an inch and whispers, “You want to get out of here?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “How’d you get here?”

  “Uber.”

  “Good. Then we don’t have to worry about your car.”

  “That was the plan.”

  He grins and taps my forehead. “That’s what I like about you, Sara. You’re always thinkin’.”

  7

  Sara

  It’s past midnight by the time we get back to Irish’s house. He parks and comes around to help me out of his truck. I stare up at his childhood home. “You still live here?”

  “Moved back not long ago. My grandmother left it to me.”

  I meet his eyes. “She died?”

  He nods. “Couple months back.”

  “I’m so sorry. I always liked her.”

  “She liked you too.” He jerks his chin toward the front. “Come on.”

  I gather my skirts as I climb the stairs, and he unlocks the door. I sweep inside, stopping on the parquet floor to glance around the place. Dressed as I am, it’s almost like we’ve stepped back in time to a bygone era when women dressed in long gowns and walked up the front walk from a carriage dropping them at the street.

  “It’s just like I remember,” I say, suddenly nervous. For as close as we were in high school, it’s been twenty years since I’ve seen this man. There’s so much I want to know. I wonder what he’s been doing all this time. Is he divorced? Was there a wife? Children? Did he ever take up welding like his uncle? I heard rumors he’d joined the military after 9/11, like so many of the boys in our graduating class did that year. Has it changed him?

  He turns to me and tilts my face to his with a finger under my chin. Perhaps he can see in my eyes all those things I’m wondering about. He shakes his head. “No questions tonight. We can get to all that tomorrow, I promise. Tonight . . . tonight I just want to feel and remember everything we had.”

  “And find out if it’s still there?” I whisper.

  He nods. “Though I already know the answer, at least for me. It’s still there, hell, I don’t think it ever left me.”

  His mouth lowers to mine, and he pulls me against his hard body. I melt against him, feeling safe, and protected, and treasured. His touch is gentle but firm. Finally, he lifts his head to stare into my eyes. “Come upstairs with me.”

  It’s not a question, but I nod my head anyway, and take his hand.

  The room he leads me to is huge, and my eyes fall to the carved four-poster bed. It’s as grand as the house.

  Irish drops my hand and moves to the fireplace. He squats by the hearth and lights one of those easy-light fire logs you buy at the grocery store. The bag catches, and soon the log is blazing and sizzling. I can feel the heat radiating.

  Irish returns to me and takes my hands in his. “Let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

  I nod, lost in the deep feelings I see in his eyes and completely under his spell.

  He reaches up, and begins pulling the pins from my hair, dropping them to the oriental carpet. Finally, the mass of curls tumble around my shoulders, and he threads his fingers through it.

  “Soft as silk. Always was.”

  I lift my hands to the black studs fastening his tuxedo shirt, and slip them free, one by one.

  He pulls it off his shoulders, then strips the white undershirt over his head, and tosses them both to a chair.

  My gaze drops to his muscled chest and the colorful ink that scrolls across it. In the firelight I can’t make out what it all is, but it looks badass, and I stroke my palms over his skin. His belly quivers under my fingertips, and he drags in a shuddering breath.

  At my touch?

  He’s ridged with muscle and just a soft, thin trail of hair to his belly button that disappears into his slacks.

  I lift my gaze to his. He’s got that smoldering hunger in his eyes I remember from high school, only this time it’s mixed with danger and a commanding presence that ups the heat level off the charts.

  “Turn around,” he orders softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his hands already on my waist, turning me, taking control.

  He works the hooks down the back of my tight corset, taking his time and drawing it out. His mouth nuzzles the back of my neck, and his lips press kisses along the bare skin of my shoulders until the anticipation has me trembling.

  He mistakes my reaction, whispering in my ear, “You nervous, Sara?”

  I shake my head and tilt it, giving him better access.

  “You know I’d never hurt you, not in a million years. I can take this as slow and gentle as you want—as you need—baby girl.”

  I melt inside at his words and drop my head back against his chest. He reaches the last hook and pulls my dress free to fall in a billowing cloud on the carpet around my feet. Now I’ve nothing on but a pair of lacy satin panties and thigh-high stockings.

  He steps closer, his arm snakes around my waist from behind, and he hauls me against his big, solid body. I gasp, and his rough hands close over my bare breasts, turning the gasp to a moan. The firelight flickers over my skin in golden and orange hues while desire licks over my body. Irish dips his head to my shoulder, his cheek to mine, and he watches as he squeezes and thrums his thumbs over my peaked nipples. And oh my God, the way it feels.

  I loll my head on his shoulder and moan in pleasure.

  “God, you’re beautiful, Sara. The way you react to me, prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I rub myself against him; his words working their magic on me and making me want to give him everything—anything—he wants. I love the feel of him pressed tight to me, his chest to my back, and his arms around me. It feels protective and safe.

  “What’s this?” His fingertips brush over the small tattoo on the swell of my left breast—the word Irish drawn in swirling cursive with a small shamrock next to it. “I know you’re not Irish, Sara. Is . . .” he hesitates a moment, then finishes, “is that for me?”

  I nod. No use denying it. The truth of how I feel about this man, how I’ve always felt about him is written on my skin.

  He turns me to face him and searches my eyes. “Why?”

  My eyes fill, and I shake my head. I can’t say the words. But I can show him.

  I lift my arms and loop them around his neck to pull his mouth down to mine. This time his kiss is savage, taking everything I give as I drop my head back, and let him drink his fill.

  He growls deep in his throat, the sound vibrating from his mouth to mine.

  He st
eps a pace away, grabs a fur blanket off a chair, and tosses it to the carpet in front of the fire. Then he guides me down to my back, kneeling over me.

  His hands slide to my thighs, and I whimper in pleasure as he drags first one, then the other sheer black stocking down, tossing them aside. His palms return to glide up my inner thighs, pressing them open. I clench my knees together out of instinct.

  “Uh-uh, little one,” he purrs. “Don’t close them. Let me see, Sara. Show me how wet you are.” He tugs my legs open, spreading them wide, and this time I let him.

  His eyes drop to my soaked panties and his face tightens in the firelight, something wild and hungry reflected in his eyes. His hand slides up my thigh, and my breath catches with each inch, until his thumb brushes lightly over the lacy edge. I moan deeply, trembling, and when my hips buck traitorously, pushing gently against his hand like my body is desperate for more, his eyes meet mine, and the green depths darken.

  His palm slides over the front of my panties and I gasp, panting as the pleasure melts through me.

  “So wet for me, baby,” he groans. His thumb brushes up and down, stroking my pussy through the satin fabric, every drag across it lighting up every sensitive nerve ending. Pleasure pulses as blood rushes to my pussy lips. My breath skitters in and out in anticipation of his next move.

  I lie there, my bare breasts quivering in the flickering golden light of the flames that lick and crackle.

  He plants a hand in the fur at my hip, and leans close, his breath on my bare thighs, making my skin prickle and shiver, and then he looks up at me, his gaze locks with mine, and all I can do is drown in his eyes.

  “I think we should take these off.”

  His thumb keeps stroking me as his fingers slide up to the edge of my panties. He hooks them at my hips and starts to tug them down, drawing it out as he peels them lower, until he can see my bare pussy, and he groans.

  “Fuck, Sara,” he growls, his face blazing with lust and heat. His fingers tighten, tugging my panties down my legs and off.

  He moves in, and my breath catches as I feel his beard across my thighs and then my bare pussy. He pauses for one second, his eyes flicking up to mine—and I see the fire burning in them.

  “Please,” I gasp quietly, desperate to feel his mouth on me.

  He leans in, and when his tongue drags over my bare lips, I throw my head back and cry out as pleasure melts through me.

  His tongue swipes up and drags over my clit, and I gasp, trembling and bucking my hips wantonly against his mouth.

  “You greedy for it, baby?” he purrs, grinning wickedly, his green eyes blazing.

  I nod.

  He pushes his tongue into me, and I shudder in a breath as he starts to fuck me with it. My body trembles and quivers. He licks me faster, and more insistently, and his hands pin my thighs wide. That wicked tongue of his slides up and down my lips, pushing in, then sliding up to swirl around my clit.

  He settles his shoulders between my thighs, grabs each cheek of my ass with his big hands, yanks me to him, and tongues my pussy.

  My mouth goes slack and my eyes hood as I look down at him, lust and pleasure soaring through me. I drop my hand and thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. He gives me what I want, his tongue swirling around my clit, again and again until I start to come undone.

  “You taste so fucking sweet, baby. I’m gonna make this little pussy come all over my tongue,” he growls and moves back in. Pleasure explodes through my body as he sucks my clit between his lips, and then releases it to mercilessly tease it over and over, circling it with his tongue.

  “Oh, my God,” I pant.

  He thrusts two fingers inside me, curling them to find that little trigger spot, and I buck wildly against him. He just tightens his hold on me, forcing me to take what he gives me.

  “You like that, baby?”

  “Yes,” I moan, my head rolling from side to side.

  “I know you do. I still remember what you like,” he growls, adding his thumb to my clit while those fingers work me faster and faster, until I throw my head back, arch my body up and explode, crying out in ecstasy as a powerful orgasm washes over me.

  I shudder again and again, rubbing against him over and over, until finally I whimper and melt back against the fur blanket.

  I’m trembling as he moves up over me, his hot body coming down on mine. His face is a mask of lust as he cups my jaw and crushes his lips to mine.

  I taste myself on his lips and moan into his mouth.

  He pulls back, and his eyes blaze into mine.

  “That was fucking beautiful, Sara. I love watching you come for me. And I’m not nearly done with you, baby.”

  His palm slides up my belly, across my ribs, and closes over the mound of my breast. He squeezes, and I arch into his hand. He rubs his thumb back and forth across my erect, sensitive nipple, and I gasp.

  “Oh, God, more,” I whimper, my whole-body strains, aching, and desperate for more.

  He pins my hands over my head, holding them firm with one hand, then dips his head, and closes over the tight bud, laving it with his tongue, and then sucking so hard I writhe beneath him, wanting everything he gives me.

  He nibbles and sucks until my nipple is red and engorged, then he moves to the other, giving it the same treatment while he teases the first with his thumb.

  Oh, God, I don’t want him to stop. It feels so fucking good.

  He lifts his head, and his hand slides up my chest to gently encircle my neck, then his mouth closes over mine, and he kisses me fiercely.

  I willingly give over total control, loving how he takes it, and another rush of wetness floods my pussy. I moan into his mouth, undulating beneath him.

  He growls, and his free hand slides back between my legs to stroke his fingers through the slippery wetness. I moan and kiss him harder.

  He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them inside his lips. “So fucking sweet. Like fucking candy.”

  My entire body heats as I watch him lick every drop.

  Holding my gaze, he returns his fingers to my pussy, treating me to soft, teasing strokes. “Do you want more, baby girl?” he growls lowly, and I feel his cock straining and bulging against his slacks.

  Slowly, I nod. “Yes,” I whisper heatedly as he starts to undo his pants. I writhe in anticipation as his cock pops free to nudge hot against the skin of my bare hip.

  He leans in, letting his lips brush my earlobe.

  “On your knees, baby girl,” he purrs, releasing me.

  I turn and get on my hands and knees as he strips, and then positions himself behind me. I feel his warm palm smooth over my skin from the small of my back to between my shoulder blades, where he presses me down. I extend my arms out, dropping my torso until the fur tickles my nipples, my ass still up in the air.

  “Fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, his hands sliding back up my skin to clamp around my hips and drag me back, positioning me where he wants me.

  I love how possessive his touch is, controlling, and taking what he wants. I wait, trembling with anticipation of what he’ll do next. Then his fingers dip between my spread legs, and he torments me with teasing strokes that drive me wild.

  I moan.

  His fingers dip inside me, then swirl around my clit, bringing me quickly right back up to balance on that razor’s edge. I drop my head, whimpering.

  “You want my dick, baby doll?”

  I nod.

  “Tell me.”

  I moan, and his palm smacks down on one butt cheek, making me jump as pleasure jolts through me, and another rush of wetness soaks me.

  “Oh, God, yes.”

  “Say it.”

  “I want your dick inside me. Please.”

  He takes it in his hand, swirls the head around my opening, then slides deep. I clamp down, and he pauses. “Let me in, Sara.”

  I breathe in, will myself to relax, and he slides deeper. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a man that he’s a tight
fit, his big cock stretching me. It only spurs him on.

  He groans and pushes deeper. “That’s it, baby. You feel so fucking good.”

  I arch my ass up higher, and he slides over that sweet spot deep inside me. I gasp in a breath, and he pulls back, and does it again.

  “Right there?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I answer, my face in the fur blanket.

  He strokes over it again and again, then curls his body over mine, the hot skin of his chest pressing against my back, and one arm wrapping firm around my waist, pinning me tightly to him. He dips his head and bites my ear lobe.

  I moan, and his big hand moves up to cup my breast.

  He groans and pinches my nipple. I clamp down around his dick, and he hisses in a breath. “Fuck yeah. Do that again.”

  I do, and he rises up on his knees, grabs my hips, and begins to thrust into me with hard, jolting thrusts that have my breasts bouncing with each impact. Slowly he picks up the pace until he’s pounding into me, the sounds of him slapping against my wet pussy filling the quiet room.

  He reaches around me and slides his fingers through the slick release, then circles my clit again and again until I’m about to come.

  “Irish,” I pant.

  “Come for me, Sara. Come all over my dick.”

  And I do, I come hard as a powerful orgasm crashes through me.

  I shout out, and he slams into me, pressing deep, his hands tight on my hips, pinning me to him as he roars out his own orgasm.

  He comes long and hard before collapsing on top of me and forcing my knees flat. I take his weight, loving the feel of him pinning me to the fur.

  He’s only there a moment before he rolls off, breathing hard.

  “Fucking hell, Sara. That was so fucking good.”

  I smile and scoot toward him, wanting his warmth. He rolls to the side and gathers me close.

  “Give me five minutes, and we’re doing that again.” He smacks my ass lightly.

  I giggle and snuggle closer.

  8

  Green

  I stroke Sara’s back and stare at the ceiling. “Remember that time you made me sneak into that five-star hotel in San Francisco with you? What was the name of that place?”