Hellfire’s demonstration, the promise of what might happen later tonight, makes me view things in a different light. When Jeannie drags Titsy and Breezy away to help her in the kitchen, I go along too. The leftovers are brought in from the interrupted barbeque, saran wrapped and covered up, sandwiches cut for brothers who’ll be hungry later, then the place is cleaned up.
As we go about our tasks, Jeannie and I reminisce about old times, our laughter attracting an audience.
“He didn’t?” Bella puts her hand to her mouth and gives a very unfeminine snort.
“He did.” I nod toward Jeannie for confirmation.
She giggles. “We hadn’t meant it to go so far. But Mo had prepared a bowl of food. Rusty assumed it was for the kids.”
“Kid. I only had Demon then.”
“Yeah, well, he picked it up and started eating it.”
“He said it was great. Finished the plate and wanted more…”
“Walk it back, Mo. He actually asked for a slice of bread to mop up the gravy.”
I’m laughing so hard I’m holding my stomach. “And you said…” I point at her, hardly able to get the words out.
“I asked him,” she takes over, “whether he wanted it heated up.”
“He said no, it was fine.”
“Oh God, what was it?” Tulia asks.
“Cat food.” Both Jeannie and I shout out together.
“You’re never going to let me fuckin’ forget that, are you?” A booming voice interrupts us. But Rusty’s got a huge grin on his face as he walks over and gives me a big hug. “You know, Mo? I was thinking we don’t see enough of you nowadays, but,” he rubs his stomach, “maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Hmm. You like the food I give you, old man?”
Rusty swings around to Jeannie quickly, his face falling. “You haven’t… you wouldn’t…”
“Oh, stop complaining.” Thunder steps in. “Whatever it is she serves up is fuckin’ tasty.”
“The rattlesnake cooked well, didn’t it?” Jeannie asks, innocently.
Both men cover their faces and gag.
Jeannie winks at me and we crack up. Why did I think I didn’t miss this?
Later that evening, Pal, who’d been out most of the day after the barbeque ended so abruptly, returns to the club. Hell calls him over for a word, and then, after grabbing a bite to eat and a quick word with Jayden, Pal goes back out.
Taking me into a corner, Hell speaks quietly. “I’ve asked him to provide extra security at the strip club. His shift will last until five am. By the time he gets back, he’ll be dead beat and Jayden just waking up.”
“You’re a genius. Thank you. But isn’t the strip club closed today?”
A tap to my nose. “Closed, yeah. But we still need to take precautions. As to why, Mo, that’s club business.” He pauses. A smirk slowly covers his face. “Now do you want to stay down here and party?” Hell turns me around so my back’s to his front. Ink’s getting down to business with Titsy, Bella’s on her knees in front of Pyro. And I can feel a hard cock pressing into my back.
I don’t need asking twice. I follow Hell upstairs to his bedroom, only a quick sideways glance toward the storage room on the way, the room which used to belong to Blackie. He stops me as I walk through the door, pulling me against him once again, whispering in my ear, as though to remind me this place holds good memories as well. “This is where Kennedy and Samuel were conceived.”
“Ain’t going to be more babies conceived tonight.” I huff. “That’s one thing for certain. Getting old has some benefits.”
“Hmm,” he nuzzles my ear. “Good. Skin on skin. No condoms.”
I turn around. Going up on tiptoe I kiss him. “No condoms. Unless…” I frown.
“Not been with anyone Mo, I told you that. Only woman I want is the one here with me.”
He kisses me as he’s done many thousands of times before. Then he undoes the buttons of the blouse I’m wearing, and slides it off my shoulders.
“Fuckin’ beautiful, babe.”
“Can we turn the light off?” There’s an edge of pleading in my voice which makes him still.
“You really want to?”
“I’d like you to imagine what I was like before. Not as I am now.”
Ignoring my request, he removes my bra in a move he’s perfected over the years. My tits, no longer perky, drop out. His eyes flare as he touches my nipples, rolling them between his fingers and thumbs. “Love these, always have, always will,” he pronounces before he lowers his head, taking one hard nub into his mouth, and then the other.
While paying attention to my breasts, always skilled at multi-tasking, one of his hands moves to the zip of my pants. I place my fingers over the top to stop him.
“Please turn the light off,” I beg.
“No,” he refuses with just one word. “Need to see you, Mo. Need to show you I don’t give a fuck about wrinkles, stretch marks, cellulite or whatever fuckin’ shit you women worry about. I need to see the body that’s mine. Only mine.”
I’ve got all of those, and worse. For a moment my worry is greater than the feelings his administration to my breasts elicits. What happens if a man who’s taken Viagra is turned off? Or does he remain ready to perform even if his head’s not entirely on board? Guess I’m going to find out.
Moving down my body he trails his tongue over my stretch marks, tracing each one. He caresses the no-longer flat tummy, then starts dragging my pants down, my panties along with them.
I wait. Not disappointed when I hear him gasp. “What the fuck have you done to yourself, Mo?”
I suck in a breath, feeling the tears pricking at my eyes. Guess I’m going to find out how Viagra works. “It’s the menopause, Hell. I can’t fucking help it.”
He hasn’t stopped. Kneeling and moving down the bed, he pulls my pants off entirely, then sits back, examining what the harsh overhead light has revealed. He’s seeing, for the first time, what I see every day in the shower. My mound is now almost completely bare, just a few straggly pubes remaining around the edge. I keep them trimmed and tidy, but it looks a mess. There’s a little more hair still on my labia.
“Fuck, Mo.” His exclamation could be one of pleasure or disgust. Knowing how much he appreciates a neatly trimmed bush, I’m going with the latter. I risk a glance at his face, he looks like he’s thinking. Suddenly he leaps up. This is it. I disgust him. “Wait there.” What?
He’s got me naked, he hasn’t revealed himself yet. My jaw drops when he stands and barefooted, leaves the room.
Do I get dressed? Slide under the covers? Is he coming back or has he gone to find a whore to take care of his medically induced rock hard cock? I put my fist to my mouth, trying to stop the sob escaping. Hell’s gone.
But before a moment has passed, he’s back. He goes into his bathroom returning with a towel and something else.
“Up.” He instructs.
Bemused, I lift my hips and let him place the towel under me. Oh shit. “Hell?”
“Want to see all of you. Looks fuckin’ sexy, Mo. Can’t fuckin’ wait until I slide my tongue into you and you’re completely bare.”
I half sit up. Christ. I haven’t seen that leer on his face for years. “Hell,” I screech when I realise his intention. “You can’t…”
He slaps my ass lightly. “Fuckin’ can. And will.”
“Where the hell did you get shaving cream?” He doesn’t use it himself, he’s got a beard.
“Oh, Mace had some. And a spare razor.”
“Mace? You went and asked him?” My voice is an octave higher than normal. “You tell him what you were using it for?”
“Think he’ll guess when he sees I’ve still got my beard in the morning, babe.”
As he speaks, I go still. Cold cream covers me, and the even colder steel starts scraping against my tender parts. “Hell, be careful.” I hope his hands are still steady, waiting to feel him cut me.
“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you
.”
“Mace won’t be able to keep his mouth shut. It will be all over the clubhouse by morning.” I’m so embarrassed.
“That I’m making love to my woman? Oh, they’ll know that anyway, babe.”
Christ, this shouldn’t be sexy. But the way he’s biting his lip, deep in concentration as he removes the remaining hair, is proving a turn on. But I’m worried about his statement. “You gonna boast to prove your virility?”
“Nah. But everyone’s going to hear you screaming, Mo. They’re going to know I’m giving my ol’ lady a good fuckin’.”
“Sure of yourself?”
“You looking this damn sexy, Mo? Fuckin’ right I am. There. Finished. Stay there.” He disappears into the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth. As he wipes the shaving foam away, his eyes seem to glow. He goes and rinses the cloth, then returns and cleans me again. Then sits back on his haunches. “Christ Mo,” he palms his dick, “fuck, woman. Fuckin’ amazin’.”
If I knew it would cause a reaction like this, I’d have shaved myself years ago.
“Thought you preferred a neatly trimmed bush…”
“Babe.” His eyes meet mine and hold them. “I did. On you. Before I met you, the whores went bare. You were different, my woman. I didn’t want you to look like a whore.”
Has he just insulted me?
“Nah, whatever you’re thinking, stop it right there. Haven’t seen a bare cunt for over thirty-six years, Mo. What I’m considering is how my beard’s going to feel when I do this.”
Without waiting, he lowers his head and licks me from my slit to my clit, the rasp of his beard alien, and… totally sexy. When he does it again, my back arches. When he places his fingers inside me, closing his mouth around the hard nub at the same time, I can’t stop the cry coming from me. It’s different. It’s amazing. And at the same time, familiar. I know all his moves; he knows my reactions. He plays me like a darn fiddle. It’s not long before my muscles are stiffening, waves of sensation starting to build. Whether it’s that it’s been so long, whether being bare makes that much of a difference, but when I come, my body jerks forward and yeah, he was right, I do scream.
“You, naked.” I demand, breathlessly, when at last I return to myself.
He moves off the bed and gives me my very own strip show. His tee-shirt’s removed, revealing a smattering of silvery grey hairs on his chest. When he undoes the zip of his jeans, he’s gone commando. His hair is as thick there as ever, but his pubes are near white. His cock though, that’s what makes me lick my lips, it juts out proudly.
Seeing me watching, he palms it slowly, sliding his hand up and down. He eyes my mouth, saying, “Not tonight, not gonna waste this.” It reminds me we only have the one chance.
Then he’s taking the lube I’m not even sure I now need, slathering it over his cock. When he applies it to me, his movements are erotic, he ramps up my desire then kneels, pulls my hips over his thighs, presses himself to my entrance and pushes inside.
My hands grip the covers. Months have gone by when I never believed I’d feel him inside me again. As I relish the sensations, tears fall from my eyes. I love him so much, I always have. He’s the only man for me.
When he starts to move, I stop thinking anything. He found my sweet spot decades ago, he knows exactly what gets me going. His hips start thrusting, he reaches forward, resting his weight on one arm, he looks into my eyes as one hand encircles my throat lightly, just enough to show me who’s in control.
“Eyes on me, Mo,” he reminds me how he likes it.
Christ he’s good. He’s hitting that spot time after time. His face is contorting as he chases his own pleasure.
“Fuckin’ come for me, Mo.”
As though my body was waiting for his instruction, I explode.
He cries out, his movements become frantic, the depths he’s plundering extend my orgasm, my muscles clench down on him, then again and again.
“Fuck! I’m coming babe,” he roars.
I swear I can feel him releasing inside me. Squirt after squirt of his hot cum. My arms wrap around him, holding him to me, enjoying the closeness, the security of being held by my man, being connected so intimately.
We lie without speaking, until I feel his cock softening. Then he rolls to his side, his arm thrown up over his eyes. A slight groan comes from him.
“You alright, Hell?”
“Get me some Advil, will you, darlin’?”
Chapter 27
Paladin
Right at this moment, Jayden’s where I’ve always dreamed of having her. In my bed. Problem is, I’m not there. Nah, I’m with fucking Taser at the strip club. It’s Sunday, it’s closed. Nothing to do but patrol around, checking out every noise and sound.
I’d half expected Taser to stay inside monitoring the cameras, but to give him his due, he’s outside with me.
I’m stamping my feet. It might be spring, but the night’s turned chilly, and standing around, or just walking a few paces isn’t enough to keep me warm.
I’ve checked the cameras are still working, and their positioning for the umpteenth time. It’s cold, and it’s boring. Seems like it’s getting to the man with me too.
“So, Pal. You certain nothing’s followed you to Pueblo from Tucson?”
I shake my head before I reply, “Can’t be certain about anything. But a drive-by’s not the Herreras’ style. They wanted us? They’d come in guns blazin’.”
“You’d know, I suppose,” he says grudgingly.
“So, Prez will be questioning everybody. You got any skeletons maybe rattlin’ their bones?”
“Nah, nothing from me.”
His tone makes me cock my head questioningly. “You’re going to speak to Hell, though?”
Throwing me a sneering look, he confirms, “He’s speakin’ to everyone, isn’t he? If there’s anything he should know, I’ll tell him.”
I’m wondering about having a word with the prez. Taser is edgy about something. Mind you, the way single brothers screw around, I expect Hell will get quite a lot of information.
The night continues, time dragging. The most excitement is when a rat runs across the parking lot, the movement catching both of our eyes. I replace my gun in its holster sheepishly.
“You certain you got nothing to do with that body?”
“Let it drop, Taser, will you? I’ve told you before. Know nothing about him. It’s most likely the body was moved and planted here, so what about you? You’re the manager of Tits Up. Message for you?”
“Message for the club,” he growls impatiently. “Nothing to do with me personally.”
He’s getting on my nerves. “I’ll check around the front again.” I do, just to get a moment to myself. But there’s nothing there. No movement this time of night on the quiet roads of the city. Everyone else is in bed. Where I want to be. Next to Jayden.
My pillows, sheets, are going to smell of her. My cock twitches. I will it to behave. Got my girl where I want her, that’s enough for now. I’m not going to take things further. I may not have much experience, but I know things have got to proceed between us slow. What if I’m a disappointment to her? I make myself think of something else, and not about the fact, when it comes to it, I won’t know what the fuck to do. She does. Nah, she was never an active participant before.
She’s asleep in my bed. Perhaps it would be better if she wasn’t. It’s putting thoughts in my head that shouldn’t be there. Think of that new exhaust you want, Pal.
The sky is lightening by the time Thunder and Lizard arrive, relieving us from the night shift. I get on my bike, and side by side with Taser, ride back to the clubhouse.
It’s quiet inside, just a prospect and Ink watching over the compound. Exhausted, I climb the stairs. Unlocking my door as quietly as I can, I open it.
She’s sprawled out, in my bed. Sheets kicked off where she’s too warm. With my back to the door, I just stand and watch her, drinking in the most beautiful sight of my life. Checking out
the colourful pyjamas she’s wearing, covered in unicorns. I’ve got a child-come-woman in my bed. Her clothing, the innocence that radiates off her sleeping body, makes me realise I shouldn’t be thinking the thoughts about her that I am.
She’s appropriated most of the bed, and is lying in the middle. I slide out of my cut and tee-shirt, leaving my jeans on. Yawning widely, I bend down and take my boots and socks off, then step forward to the bed. I’m so tired, if I don’t lie down, I’ll keel over where I stand.
There’s a small space I can just about fit into on the left-hand side. I lift the covers, ease my body down gently, freezing as a small moan comes from her mouth. Then moving again when she’s quiet once more. Managing to find enough space, I lie on my back, my hands secured under my head. My nostrils breathe in her perfume. As I close my eyes, I feel the warmth radiating from her.
This feels so right.
I wake, too hot. I’m being smothered. Jay has rolled over. I don’t want to disturb her, but fuck, I’m burning up. Her body is flush against mine, her leg thrown over my thigh, her arm over my chest. She’s treating me like a teddy bear. I’m uncomfortable, sweating, but I’ve never felt so good in all my life.
When I wake for the second time, it’s movement that’s disturbed me.
“Oh, God, Pal. I’m sorry. I…”
My hand shoots over hers, anchoring her to me. “Ain’t got nothing to apologise for, Doll.”
“I’m taking up all the bed.”
“I’m comfortable,” I lie. “Just don’t move your leg…”
“Oh!”
Too late. I try to will my morning wood to go down. Fuck, who am I kidding? It’s not the time of day, it’s her, in my bed that I’m having a very normal male reaction to. I still, wondering what she’s going to do. Not wanting to scare her.
“I, er, I’ll get up now. You must be tired.”
“Yeah, I’m going to sleep on a while.” See? I can have a perfectly normal conversation with my dick throbbing, the object of its desire so fucking close and yet so far. She’s too young. Once she’s out of the room, I’ll take care of it for myself. Will be far from the first time I’ve thought of her while I’ve been jerking off in the shower.
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