by Jenika Snow
He placed a hand on the center of her back and continued to push into her and then pull back out with increasing speed and vigor. And when he placed both his hands on her back and slid them up to grip the nape of her neck, Naggie had never felt so owned by a man as she did right then. For several seconds, he held her immobile as he pounded into her deliciously sore body.
He thrust into her once, twice, and on the third pump stilled inside her. He came long and hard, shuddering and groaning, and holding onto her flesh so hard the pleasure and pain became one. He might be wearing a condom, but she could feel the jerk of his cock, felt the powerful pumping at the tip of his dick as he filled the condom. His coarse words were sharp and dirty, and another shiver wracked her already exhausted body.
His orgasm seemed to go on forever, and when he finally exhaled and pulled out of her, she immediately collapsed on the bed.
“Holy shit.” The words tumbled out of her, but she was too tired to be embarrassed. Instead, all she wanted to do was let the euphoric haze of having been thoroughly screwed by Booshie pull her into oblivion.
The feeling of something smooth and gentle moving up and down her side had Naggie slowly opening her eyes. She blinked a few times to clear her vision. The light that filled the room was low and muted and came from the bedside lamp, given the small clicking sound she heard coming from behind her. She was on her side and facing away from him but smiled when she felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck.
“You wore me the fuck out, baby.”
She grinned even though he couldn’t see her. The caress of him moving his fingers along her side, right over her script tattoo, could have had her falling back to sleep, and she would have if not for the fact that he chose that moment to speak again.
“You’re just as exhausted as me, Naggie baby.” He didn’t phrase it like a question and didn’t stop touching her.
“Yes, that happens when someone fucks me like a damn madman.” She smiled and shifted so she was now facing him on her side. He was smiling too, and that small, almost sleepy grin looked really good on him.
“What does this mean?” he asked, his focus on her side again. He started tracing the words of her tattoo.
“Exactly what it says.” She smiled again, not being a smart ass.
“You know what I mean.” He flashed her this shit-eating grin, all straight white teeth and a face so manly with his trimmed, scruffy beard, and dark longer hair framing his face.
Yeah, she did know what he meant. Although she didn’t mind telling the story of her ink, this conversation seemed very intimate in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that they had just had sex or that this was a one-night stand.
10
Naggie shifted so she was now on her back, and even though she was naked, she wasn’t self-conscious over her nudity, had never been. Booshie pulled the sheet up so that it covered both their lower halves.
“Big, hardened, but with a compassionate side.” She smiled. She had kept her arm above her head so he could still touch her side tattoo and because she liked how it felt having him stroke her softly.
Naggie stared at her ink and moved her gaze along the same lines he was currently running his fingers over.
“Have No Regrets Over the Mistakes You’ve Made” had been one of her very first tattoos, and was one of the most cherished on her body. She loved all her ink, but that particular one defined her life and who she was.
“I guess it’s just something I live by, and I wanted it permanently on my body to always remind me that I’m only human.” She lifted her gaze to his face, and for a second all they did was stare at each other.
She was so used to seeing him with a bandana on that his dark chin-length hair free was a little different but in a good way. His face was so masculine and his jaw so square. Without thinking, she lifted her hand and ran her fingers over the tips of his hair and then moved them along his scruff-covered cheek.
He captured her hand with his and pressed her palm to his cheek. When he leaned forward and took her mouth with his, she might have thought he’d kiss her to start something hot and deep again, but he barely brushed his mouth along hers, and before she knew it, he was pulling away from her.
“Have you made a lot of mistakes in life?” He pushed away a stray piece of hair that fell across her forehead.
“Haven’t we all?” It was a rhetorical question, because like she said, they were all only human.
“I know I’ve done some shit that makes my skin crawl.” He rolled onto his back and lifted his arms up to put his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling for a while, and it was clear he was thinking about something hard. “You’re different from the other women I’ve been with.” He turned just his head and stared at her. His eyes looked so dark.
“You’re different from the other men I’ve been with.” She smiled after she said it, but he kept a stoic expression. Before she could even comprehend what he was doing, he had his hands wrapped around her waist and had her hauled up and over him.
Now straddling his narrow hips, Naggie braced her hands on his firm pecs and stared at all the ink he had. Like her, he had full-sleeve tattoos, but he also had the patch logo of his MC inked into one of his smooth pecs. She knew all the men in his club had the same tattoo. She had seen the president, Scars, had one on his shoulder blade when she picked up Stella at the clubhouse one day.
Scars was not the typical father figure who resided in Reckless, but Naggie knew he was one protective man when it came to his daughter. That was something she’d never had, and as depressing as that was to think about, it was her life, and she didn’t dwell on the negative shit.
“Does it scare you if I said I don’t like thinking of you with other men?” Booshie asked and pushed up enough that he could smooth his hands over her arms, along her shoulders, and cupped either side of her neck.
Naggie didn’t say anything for a moment as she processed what he had just said. She didn’t twist his statement into thinking he wanted a relationship with her, because obviously it was too soon for any of that, on her end as well.
“Strangely, no.” She started moving her palms over the skulls that were entwined with black roses and chains tattooed on his thick bicep, moved her hand along his pec that had his MC logo on it, and then stilled to look in his eyes. “You have just as much ink as me,” she said, changing the subject.
Naggie took his hands that were still framing her neck and pushed them down her body so he could be the one who now cupped her breasts. “Does that turn you off, that I actually kind of like the idea you’re all possessive?”
He started squeezing her flesh but didn’t verbally answer. Instead, he shook his head. She looked at his patch tattoo again, traced the skull in the center with the flames that surrounded it, and felt arousal building in the center of her body once more. The top rocker read Vicious Bastards, while the bottom rocker said Reckless.
A man with a lot of ink had also been one of her sexual preferences, but she had never been attracted to a man like she was to Booshie. Maybe it was because of the shit she went through with Rob. It could be a rebound thing, she supposed, but frankly she didn’t want to even go down that road. Naggie had never been one to worry about why she did something. If it made her happy, then that was all that mattered.
And Booshie made her very happy—or at least for the past few hours he had. That had her smiling. In fact, every time she had seen him over the past few months, she’d felt this tingling in her body and this tightening in her stomach.
“It turns me the fuck on.” He leaned forward and captured one of her nipples in his mouth.
“If you keep that up, I won’t be able to control my actions.” She speared her hands in his hair and pulled at the strands. He used his tongue, lips, and teeth to drive her crazy, and when he started groaning against her breasts, she nearly reached between their bodies and impaled herself on his already hard cock. The damn thing felt like an iron rod between her legs, and her puss
y grew wet.
“I don’t want you in control.” He nipped at her nipple. “I want you to feel just as wild as I do.” He smoothed his hands over her sides and down her back to grip her ass. He squeezed the mounds almost painfully, but then he suddenly stopped and slowly backed off on the frenzied actions.
“What’s wrong?”
He lay back on the bed and grinned up at her. “Nothing, baby, but I know you have to be sore, and I’m in no rush. I plan on having more of you, because tonight is not the fucking last time we’ll do this.”
Her heart started beating fast and hard, and she actually grew frightened by his statement. She had just gotten out of one relationship, only hours ago in fact, and although she wanted Booshie in a real, raw way, she didn’t think having anything more than sex with him was smart.
But on the heels of that thought, she felt embarrassed, because maybe that was all he was implying… sex. Maybe she had been this easy piece of ass—which she had, since he picked her up at the bar in like ten minutes—and now he saw her as a pussy on demand? God, now she felt ridiculous for thinking he wanted more than what they were doing right now, but at the same time, she was relieved.
“You okay?”
She slid off him and nodded in response. “Yeah, just my thoughts went wayward for a minute.” She sat on the edge of the bed, and although she wasn’t buzzed anymore, she also didn’t have her car, and therefore she couldn’t run away like she wanted to right now.
“You don’t seem okay.”
She looked over her shoulder and watched as he sat up and stood. He was buck-naked, and God did he wear it well. Nothing but hard muscle covered him, and when he turned and faced her and she got a look at his now semi-hard cock with that silver barbell pierced right through the crown of his shaft, she had to curl her fingers into her palms.
“You keep looking at me like that and I won’t be able to stop myself from tackling you to the bed and mounting you like some kind of fucking animal.”
“You mean again?” She grinned. Here Naggie thought she didn’t have a filter, or that she was coarse. Compared to Booshie, she felt like this virgin Catholic schoolgirl. She glanced away quickly but couldn’t help but smile.
Before she could move, Booshie was back on the bed and had her pinned beneath him. He used a knee to pry her legs apart and pressed his erection into her already wet pussy. A gasp left her, and then a moan followed that.
“You were going someplace in your mind that was fucking up the vibe of this evening.” He didn’t say it accusingly, but more that he was concerned. “You want to talk about what is going on in that pretty little head of yours?” He braced his forearms on the bed beside her head and ran his cheek along hers. His beard tickled and scratched her cheek, but what caught her so off guard was this softer side of him. Being underneath all of his hard muscles made her feel fragile almost.
Naggie could actually picture herself comfortable in his embrace, and not just because she had a little liquid courage going through her, or that Booshie made her feel something different. It wasn’t because she was feeling pissed and down. He had been there and hadn’t disappointed in helping her forget about that motherfucker Rob or that skank Tally; that was for damn sure.
For the last several months, she felt like a teenager getting all giddy when she’d see him, but she had been with Rob, and she wasn’t unfaithful, unlike that asshole.
“Can I tell you something without you thinking I’m all kinds of weird?”
He grinned down at her, but it was one of those half ones that made him look like he was up to no good. “Of course, baby.” He even spoke so gently to her. He just always seemed so rough, looked so hardened and pissed off all the time.
“I’ve wanted you for quite some time, months in fact.”
He lifted a dark eyebrow like he was curious and amused by her admission. “Is that right?”
She nodded, but Naggie wasn’t one to be embarrassed easily, even though she had felt like that more than once in Booshie’s presence.
“You never said anything.”
She shrugged, or as much as she could, given the fact that she was lying down. “I was with Rob, and I’m not a cheater.” She heard the bite in her voice after she said that, and by the look on his face, she knew Booshie heard it too. “But he fucked me over by cheating on me.” She felt that familiar rage move within her. She welcomed it. Anger was an authentic emotion, and the ones who buried it tended to not face life head-on. At least that was her experience. She really didn’t need to tell Booshie the how or why she had broken up with Rob, but she also didn’t want to hold it in. “I caught him fucking some Reckless skank from town.”
Booshie didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he also kept his attention on her. She also noticed his jaw was slightly clenched, as if he were the one who was pissed.
“So, I kicked the tramp’s ass out of the house, bitch-slapped Rob, and don’t regret doing any of it. In fact, the only thing I regret is wasting a year of my life on his worthless ass.” She shrugged and moved her hands over his bulging shoulders.
God, she loved his body and tattoos and found herself getting distracted from what they were talking about as she looked at his golden skin.
“And then you met me at the bar, and we had some wild fucking sex.” He leaned down and kissed her and at the same time thrust forward so his dick pressed against her slick folds once more. She felt the hard ridge of his piercing, warmed by their body heat and eliciting all sorts of desires inside her.
“Yeah, some wild sex.” She grinned and ran her tongue over his top lip then the bottom one. “I have to tell you that I don’t let just anyone have butt sex with me on the first date.” She stared at him, keeping her composure, and then she started laughing, hoping he realized she was teasing. When he grinned, she felt her pulse spike and this warmth settle in her belly.
“Well, I have to tell you I don’t normally stick my dick in a woman’s ass that I bring home for the first time.”
She started laughing harder. “Then why did you?” She stared at his lips, ones that were strong and full.
This very serious expression covered his face. “Because I have wanted you for a long fucking time, but I am also not the type of person to go fucking another man’s woman.” He leaned in close, his lips barely brushing hers, and said, “Even if that other man is one stupid motherfucker who needs his dick and balls ripped off.”
God, he was so… fierce. She speared her hands in his hair, lifted up enough to press her mouth to his, and kissed him as hard and fiercely as he had done to her earlier. He might be the most dominating man she had ever met, but right now, she was going to be the one to fuck him.
11
Booshie sat in the parking lot of the bar he met Naggie in last night and stared at her profile. She was in the passenger side of his SUV, and although they had fucked twice last night, and he was feeling good about the prospect of seeing her again, she had been acting weird.
“You sure you’re okay?” Booshie was not the type of man who cared if he saw a woman again after he slept with her, at least not after he had walked away from Susan all those years ago.
But there was something very different about Naggie, something he noticed the moment he saw her months ago. He couldn’t even describe it, couldn’t understand why after all this time he felt something more than a passing need for pleasure when he was around her. Hell, they spent one night together.
That shit didn’t equate to a relationship, and he didn’t even know if that was what he wanted. Booshie wasn’t getting any younger, but he never thought much about having an old lady, or a family for that matter.
She turned and looked at him but didn’t verbally respond.
Booshie knew that silence. He might not be the kind of man who kept his mouth shut, but even he could sense she was uncomfortable. “I had a good time with you, Naggie.”
She chuckled, and it was filled with genuine amusement. “Me too.” She looked down at her h
ands she had resting in her lap. “Is Booshie your real name?” When she looked at him once more, he didn’t respond right away.
For a moment, he just took in the sight of her. They had a fuck marathon last night, one that made him feel like he was decades younger. She made him feel like he was decades younger. “Does it sound like a real name?” He grinned, hoping the small act told her he was giving her a hard time.
She started laughing and shook her head. “I’ve learned in life that just because it doesn’t sound ‘normal’ doesn’t mean it isn’t real.” She shrugged. “Naggie is actually my real name.” She chuckled humorlessly. “I bet you’re asking who in the hell would name their kid Naggie.” Her smile widened, but he caught an expression on her face that passed as quickly as it had come. “Shitty-ass parents, that’s who.”
Booshie could tell in her voice that there was anger in there, but she tried to play it off like she didn’t give a shit. Steering away from that might be the best option right now, because obviously she didn’t want to go down that road. “No, Booshie isn’t my real name. The club gave it to me when I was a prospect. My real name is Nicholas Travene.”
She nodded, and her smile grew. “Nicholas.” She said his name softly, and he couldn’t help but start to get hard.
God, he was a sick bastard, but he hadn’t heard a woman say his legal name in so damn long, and it coming from Naggie sounded so fucking good.
“Well, your name sounds a hell of a lot better than mine.” She turned and looked at him. “I actually thought about changing it a couple times over the past few years—”
He reached out and cupped the side of her face, cutting off the rest of her sentence. “I like your name.” He let his gaze travel over her face and down to her chest. “In fact, I love everything about you.” When he lifted his gaze up her throat and saw her pulse beating faster, he knew his words hit a chord with her. “Please don’t ever change for anyone.” God, he sounded like some kind of pussy-whipped boy, but honestly, he didn’t give a shit.