by Lilly Atlas
Her head fell back as her body started to tremble above him. Wanting nothing more than to feel it from the inside out, Rocket shoved his tongue deep inside her. Sure enough, her pussy went wild, squeezing and rippling all around him.
It lasted a while, her near shouts fading to soft whimpers as her body calmed. After a few moments, she gazed down at him, eyes hazy with satisfaction and something else.
Interest.
His little redhead wanted more. Thank fuck. Rocket couldn’t remember a time he’d been this hard. His cock had been leaking since the moment she lost the damn dress. “Climb on my cock,” he said. The command sounded far more like a plea than an order. Probably the only reason Chloe scrambled off his face. She snatched the condom she’d dropped next to him as she made her way down the bed. This time, she swung her leg over him like she was mounting her favorite stallion.
“Still think you need any fucking lube?” he asked.
Chloe let out a short laugh. “Uh, no. I’m so wet it’s practically running down my legs.”
Rocket grunted. Yeah, she fucking was. He couldn’t stop the surge of male pride.
Chloe rolled the condom halfway down his dick. The touch sent a shot of lightning through his body causing his back to arch off the bed. “Fuck,” he shouted.
Eyes wide, Chloe stared down at his erection in her fist. “Wow,” she said on an exhale. “Seems like you’re in a pretty bad way, huh?” He didn’t miss the teasing tone and he fucking loved it.
“Baby,” he said, ignoring her sharp inhale at the endearment, “you have no fucking idea.”
“Well,” she said as she worked the condom down his cock. “Since you were so generous, I suppose you deserve a little something in return.”
Goddamn, he fucking loved her like this. Light, playful, unafraid to bust his balls. If possible, his cock got even harder.
And then all thoughts ceased to exist because the incredibly tight heat of her slid down him one inch at a time.
Rocket drew his knees up, putting her in the same position that got her off last time. She gifted him a sweet smile.
“Lose the bra. Want to see those gorgeous tits.” How his mouth managed to work was a mystery he’d never solve. Pure determination and desperation.
Chloe reached behind her. A small snick sounded through the room seconds before she tossed the garment to the ground.
Fuck yes. Not too big, not too small, with hardened nipples he’d give damn near anything to feel in his mouth.
Another time.
What? There were not going to be other times. Too risky for his club no matter how goddammed good she tasted or hot she felt. And the club had to come first. He was already skating on thin ice.
“Ready?” Chloe asked. Gone was the timid woman of twenty minutes ago. In her place a fucking seductress held the reins.
“Do your worst.”
And she fucking did. Riding him with complete abandon. Head thrown back, nails pricking his chest, she worked her hips on his cock like she was born for it. Thank God it didn’t take more than a few minutes for her to go stiff and bite her lower lip as she came again because he was only two seconds behind. The moment her pussy clamped down on him, he was a goner.
With a primal shout, he gave into the hardest orgasm he’d had in recent memory. When his brain regained the ability to function, he stared at the woman smiling down at him.
Two orgasms looked fucking amazing on her. Hell, if he didn’t want to see what she looked like after a few more. After she was too fuck drunk to do anything more than curl up against him and pass out.
These thoughts were beyond dangerous. Chloe had no idea who he was. No clue he was directly tied to her greatest nightmare. If she found out, she would not only kick him out of her bed, she might kick him straight to hell. Then there was the other matter. The issues she could cause for his club. All she’d have to do was snap and the cops would come running if they thought his club was somehow involved in what happened to her.
They weren’t. Not directly, but Lefty’s attack on her had been a message for the Hell’s Handlers.
Even though he wasn’t responsible, the guilt of that night had torn Rocket up for months.
This had to end. He couldn’t destroy Chloe’s world any more than it was already by telling her the truth yet he wasn’t sure how much longer he could lie to her.
No matter how happy she finally looked.
With a radiant smile he’d have forfeited his life savings to keep on her face, Chloe rested her ass on his thighs. “Tomorrow?” she asked. “Do you t-think we could m-meet here a—um again tomorrow night?”
What must it have taken for her to squash her fear, break protocol, and ask for a repeat? Had to be a good sign. She was so hopeful, so over the moon to have found a little pleasure that Rocket’s chest ached. That smile was going to disappear the moment he declined. But what choice did he have? Risking his club wasn’t an option.
“Yeah, baby, tomorrow.”
Apparently, his mouth no longer followed the command of his brain.
Her face lit like he’d offered her the stars. Made him feel ten feet tall.
He was officially fucked.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHLOE HUMMED ALONG with Katy Perry as the singer belted out some lyrics about fireworks. Pretty appropriate choice considering what had gone on over the past few hours. Staring out her kitchen window at the darkness of night, she whisked the brownie batter for probably five minutes longer than the recipe called for.
What could she say? Being with Logan half the night made her hungry. And she currently had an intense chocolate craving. One indulgence begetting another or something to that effect. Plus, it gave her something to do. Something besides obsess over the fact that she’d completely broken her own rules and fucked the same man four times. The man who made her come and anticipate coming again all through the week. Well shit, so much for not thinking about it…
“Where the fuck have you been?” Scott’s furious voice spoken directly beside her cut through her musings making her jump and fling the whisk. Gooey batter splattered in an arc across the granite countertop and onto her brother’s arm.
“Shit!” she said on a gasp. “You scared the hell outta me.” Chloe rested her hands on the edge of the counter and let her head drop as she tried to control her runaway pulse. Not since before her kidnapping had she been so unaware of her surroundings. These days, nothing got the jump on her. She was hypervigilant to the point of pathologic. And Scott knew that.
Logan wasn’t only messing with her body, he was melting her brain.
Scott’s scowl deepened. “Sorry, sis. I didn’t realize you were zoned out. Usually you know what’s happening in a five-mile radius around you.”
“Yeah well, you’re paying the ambulance bill when they have to cart me in for a heart attack.” With a shrug, she lifted her head. “I was thinking about something.”
Narrowed eyes joined his frown. “Thinking about what?”
She chuckled as she grabbed a handful of paper towels from the roll. “Nothing important. Didn’t realize you were home. How was your date?”
Miracle of miracles, Scott had stayed at his buddy’s house through Sunday evening the weekend before, giving her a chance to meet Logan for a second time without having to make up some story about where she was headed on a Saturday night when she barely left the house during daylight. Midweek, he’d met some chick as he ran through the park and planned to take her out Friday, which happened to be tonight. Another chance to have a few more of those stellar orgasms without having to account for her time out of the house.
That left tomorrow night. Was there a way she could pull off another night of Logan, cuffed to the bed and ready to eat her until she screamed? Just thinking about it had her shivering in anticipation and remembering the three times she’d come that evening. The most recent just an hour ago.
“What the fuck, Clo?”
“Huh?”
“I said my date was
good.” He bobbed his eyebrows, some of the pissed off expression morphing into a dirty smirk. “And how did you not notice I was here? My truck is parked right out front.”
She really was off her game. Best to let that question go unanswered. Otherwise she’d have to admit to her own dates. Ha, dates? More like unconventional sex appointments. “Good, huh? How good could it have been? You’re home before midnight.” Her face flamed as the words left her mouth. Didn’t take all night to send someone into the stratosphere. She damn well knew that.
“Good enough I’m not giving details to my little sister.”
Chloe smacked his arm. “Works for me. I’m in the mood for brownies. If you make me vomit, I won’t be able to eat them, and then I’ll have to kill you. Here.” She handed him a wad of paper towels.
“Don’t need it. Use it on the counter.” Scott lifted his forearm and licked the glob of chocolate from his inked skin.
“How is it?” she asked as she wiped the mess off the counter.
“Fuckin’ delicious.”
Chloe snorted. Guess fuckin’ delicious was better than plain old delicious. “They’ll be done in a little over half an hour.” As she spoke, she scraped the batter into the prepared pan then popped them into the oven. “I’ll let you know when you can have one.”
Scott’s laughter had her stomach twisting. He stepped in front of her, blocking her path out of the kitchen. Damnit. She’d been so close.
“What’s going on? You’re spaced out, fucking humming Katy Perry, and you weren’t home when I got in. You never go out at night alone. What gives?”
If he only knew. Wait… “You listen to Katie Perry?”
With a roll of his eyes, he folded his arms over his broad chest. “Nice try. Don’t change the subject.”
It wasn’t so much a subject change as a stall to give her a few more seconds to come up with a believable story. Saying something along the lines of—“I was out with a guy I met at a bar a few weeks ago. I like to tie him up and have sex with him after he makes me come with his mouth”—probably wouldn’t go over too well.
Chloe waved him off, shooting for unaffected. “I was at a girlfriend’s house. Someone I haven’t seen in months. She guilted me into coming over for a glass of wine. Just one,” she said when he opened his mouth. “I’m not stupid, Dad. I knew I wasn’t staying long and had to drive home.”
He didn’t so much as crack a smile at her quip. In fact, he looked like he was in Ranger mode. Working as a human lie detector to find a crack in her exterior. Chloe swallowed and fought to maintain eye contact. A good liar she was not. “That’s bullshit,” he finally said.
“What? No it’s not. That’s where I went.” Damn him and his training.
“No.” He stepped closer and pulled her into a bear hug. Warmth and the scent of her childhood surrounded her, making her want to burrow deeper. “Not what I meant. You shouldn’t let anyone guilt you into anything, Clo. She can’t begin to understand what you’ve been through. None of us can, which means we have no right to judge the way you handle it. If you’re not up for visiting her, she can either come here or fucking wait until you’re ready. You hear me?”
Well, there went her desire for a midnight snack. Talk about a guilt trip. She wrapped her arms around her brother and squeezed him back, hard as she could. Her throat thickened with emotion. “You’re the best big brother ever, you know that?”
He grunted and rubbed her back. “Of course, I know that. But feel free to drop that bomb next time you talk to our other brothers.”
Her laugh broke the tension. Getting the four of them together was always a hoot. Each insanely protective, she’d always been a very well loved and taken care of sister. And cue the guilt for mostly ignoring her other two siblings the past few months. “How about this?” he said. “I’ll cancel my date tomorrow night. We can have a movie fest and finish off whatever brownies we don’t devour tonight. Sound good?”
He had another date tomorrow? Meaning she could meet up with Logan again and he’d never know it. Sure, Scott’s offer sounded great, but she’d already had a much better one. Junk food and hanging with her brother was all well and good, but let’s face it, orgasms from Logan trumped carbs and sibling bonding any day. “Have I mentioned you’re the best brother ever?”
He snickered.
“But seriously, don’t cancel your date. Canceling this early in the game makes you look like a huge a-hole.”
More guilt. Selfish as it was, she wanted the night with Logan more than she could express.
He drew back, staring down at her as though assessing her authenticity. “You sure?”
“Totally sure.”
“Well, then…” He ruffled her hair like only a big brother could do. “Don’t wait up for me tomorrow night. I have a feeling I won’t be making it home.” He held up his hand for a high-five and Chloe shoved it away.
“Oh gross, that poor woman.” She made gagging sounds like she’d done when she was eight and Scott seventeen. At the time, she’d spied on him kissing his date on their front porch. The entire experience had grossed her out beyond belief. It’d been like someone forgot to tell him he’d be passing along his boy cooties to the poor girl. Clearly, she’d grown out of that idea.
“Ha,” he said, playfully shoving her away. “Trust me, the girl will not be gagging.” He started to walk out of the kitchen, then paused, calling over his shoulder, “Well, actually she might gag if—”
“La la la, not listening,” Chloe yelled, fingers in her ears as he walked out of the room laughing.
“Yeah, yeah,” he yelled from halfway down the hall. “Come get me when those brownies are done. Need to start building up my energy for tomorrow night.”
Two seconds later, Chloe realized she was standing in the middle of her kitchen with a big, goofy grin on her face. She felt lighter and more at peace than she had in a very long time. Since her kidnapping, to be exact.
The combination of physical release at night, and family time during the day was soothing her soul in a way she hadn’t expected. And the best part?
She’d be with Logan again tomorrow night.
They’d exchanged numbers for the sole purpose of being able to contact each other if one wasn’t going to be able to meet up. Neither had made contact beyond their standing Friday and Saturday night hook-up.
The radio silence was completely fine by her. In fact, it was preferred. This wasn’t a relationship, they weren’t dating. Hell, they weren’t even friends. In the four times they’d been together, they hadn’t shared any personal information or insights into each other’s lives. She knew nothing more about the man than she did that first week. In fact, aside from the occasional, “fuck yeah” and “give it to me,” Logan didn’t talk much at all. The most verbal he’d been was the night he convinced her to ride his face.
And boy was she glad he had.
Just as she was about to head to the den and plop down in front of the television while she waited for the brownies to bake, her phone chirped.
Snatching it off the counter, she frowned at Logan’s name on the screen. Seriously? Had he heard her thinking about their lack of contact?
Oh, God, what if he couldn’t make it tomorrow night? What if he could make it but decided her fucked-up way of having sex and the fact she could only do it in that one manner was getting old? The guy was downright delicious. Women probably threw themselves at him everywhere he went. Why the hell would he spend his weekends with a head case like her?
Her thumb hovered over the screen, but she couldn’t make herself open the text message. She’d been living in a fantasy of good sex and safety this past week, and she was far from ready to give it up.
With a snort, she rolled her eyes. Thank God Scott was in her guest room or he’d be all over this, trying to find out what she was hiding. Might as well open it. Ignoring it wouldn’t change the facts. If Logan was bailing, she’d find out soon enough, and it’d be much more mortifying to find out if she
opened an empty motel room door than seeing his text in the privacy of her own home.
“One, two, three, now,” she whispered then swiped the phone and held it up for the facial recognition to kick in.
Skip the dress next time I see you. Wear jeans. Been dying to see that ass wrapped in denim since the first night.
Chloe swallowed around a suddenly bone-dry throat. Though her throat seemed to be the only part of her that was dry. She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable stance now that her panties were damp.
Logan liked her ass? Part of her was surprised he’d even noticed it. It wasn’t like they engaged in flirting, touching, or much ogling of each other. Sure, she’d gotten to soak in the sight of his body as he laid there unable to escape, but she pretty much got naked and hopped on board without giving him any kind of a show. The fact that he’d even taken note of her ass was shocking. And sent heat rushing through her. She could wear jeans. Some ultra-skinny ones that showed off her legs and butt.
Tomorrow night, she texted back.
I’ll be the one cuffed to the bed.
The reply was instantaneous.
She couldn’t help the purely feminine smile that curled her lips.
Logan liked her ass.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WITH ONE LAST groan, Chloe climbed off Logan and flopped next to him on the bed. When his well-used dick slipped from her body, he hissed as he did every single time. Chloe smiled, letting her eyes drift closed as she floated on a cloud of post-orgasm bliss.
Damn, she felt like she could leap over the building with ease.
“Hey,” Logan said, laughter in his voice. “Don’t go falling asleep on me. I’m still all trussed up here.”
Chloe’s eyes flew open. They never spoke after sex. She just dressed, uncuffed him, and they went their separate ways. She also never laid down beside him. “Shit, sorry,” she said as she scrambled up and over to the dresser where the key rested. “Guess I’m more tired than I realized.”
