Love Is In the Air Volume 1

by Susan Stoker

  A smile perks on my face as I try to comprehend what he is saying to me. “You’re interested in me?”

  “I am very interested in you Stormy.”

  I recount the bills and put them in the money bag inside of the safe. I finish filing away the receipts and shut off the lights when he lightly touches my arm. “I don’t know if I am ready for this…attraction.”

  “Do you have a choice?” He moves closer, and I peer up to find his eyes staring back at me. “Because I’m not sure either of us do.”

  “Oh, God…” I snap my teeth against my lip and cautiously lay my hands on his chest. “I don’t know you.”

  “… Does it matter?”

  Not really.

  He presses his hand on my cheek and kisses my lips. The reality hits—I am kissing a man I know nothing about, and I desperately want for him to do it again. I back away fast, startled by my assertions, and cover my mouth. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  I turn and walk into to the storage area. His draw is too great to escape. I am lassoed by the possibility that something more can exist between us. And it is that same possibility which scares the shit out of me.

  Tears gather on my lashes as I spin to face him. He’s only six steps away from me when he growls, “Do you want to fuck?”

  RANDY

  “I want you to fuck me,” she declares with conviction ten minutes later. “I need you to fuck me, but I must ask one question.”

  I snarl. “Anything.”

  “How often do you do this?”

  “This?” I ask, motioning around the cluttered storage room. “Never. I don’t make a habit of hitting on women like I have with you tonight.”

  “Why me?”

  I close the gap between us. “I saw you tending at the bar and you were like a magnet. I had to get to know you.”

  “And the best way to get to know me is with your dick inside of me?”

  “Yeah,” I mutter, dipping down to kiss her sweet pout again. Her lips part, and I take the invitation for more. The kiss burns, turning any conscious thought to ash. Gone are the worries of the difference in our ages. She is a woman; I am a man. And the chemistry melts away any fears. “But I can take you to the festival instead.”

  “You would do that?”

  “Of course I would,” I assure, running my rough hands over her soft skin. She gasps as my fingers drift to her cleavage. “I will take you wherever you want to go.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to have sex with you,” she blurts out, angrily. “I live with my parents.”

  “I have a house.”

  With her unrelenting gaze, she rubs along the length of my waistband and whispers, “What if I want to do it here?”

  “Stormy Jennings, you’re about to be a real naughty girl.”

  “I am,” she contends, lowering to her knees.

  “If your Daddy knew what you were about to pray to, he’d crucify me.”

  “No one has to know,” she urges, undoing my belt. My fingers brush along her delicate cheek, and as much as I want to stop her, I can’t. She pops the button and rips down the zipper with her ocean eyes shining up to me.

  It’s just one moment.

  She waits, hesitating, suddenly stopped by the realization of her actions, but taking a deep breath, she tugs my erection from the denim and holds my cock in her palm.

  It’s just one night.

  Her eyes flick up with curiosity. There is no stopping her now. She’s found her groove, and it’s too late to turn back.

  It’s a temporary waypoint with a twenty-two-year-old girl I barely know.

  Her mouth slips over the head and swallows the length of me. She has the grace and beauty of a swan. She is magic. She is mayhem. And I am drawn to her, captured within her essence of simplicity.

  It’s just a fling.

  “Stormy,” I mumble with my hands in her blonde tresses. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I urge, sounding way too adult. “I should back away and take you to the festival for a proper date.”

  Her lips suckle to the tip before darting her tongue over the precum, glossing them. “And what if I want this?” she argues, presenting her case. “I’m an adult woman, fully capable of making these decisions. I want this with you…tonight.”

  This is why I do not date twenty-somethings. They’re one of two ways—persuasive with exquisite composure or they have no idea what they want.

  By dumb luck, she understands what she needs to carry her through to the morning. My body is nothing more than the cocktails she serves—a way to escape where her head is at.

  And I’d be lying if I said she didn’t look like a damn good time.

  “I don’t typically behave like this…”

  “Spank me.” Her interjection hitches my breath. “Please, Mr. Sexy.”

  Fuck.

  I pause to consider her words and the weight they hold. I never took her for a submissive. A young, wanton girl—sure. But bringing fetish into this changes the dynamic and the pulse-pounding ache in my cock. “Are you a nasty girl, Stormy?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “How many times have you been spanked?”

  “I was with a biker, Randy,” she responds like that is the answer to the question. In a way, it is. It’s certainly not uncommon. “I like it rough.” She rolls up to stand before me. “The only question is—can you bring it?”

  Her words are a challenge held within a prurient air. I shouldn’t want to snap my belt against this girl’s butt cheek, but God, if I don’t want just that.

  “Take your jeans off.”

  She pulls off her tank top, revealing a black silk bra. Unclasping the hook, she twists from its confines and tosses it to me. The warm fabric smells like her, and she is a scent I could grow accustomed to—in my bed and on my dick.

  She makes me feel like a dirty old man staring at her full bosom and light pink nipples. She scoots a wooden chair across the cement floor.

  What the hell are you doing, girl?

  “Sit,” she requests. I kick off my boots and let my jeans hit the floor before ripping my shirt off. I park my ass in the chair as she steps closer and runs her fingernails over my guns. “You have ink.”

  “I was in the military for twenty years,” I proudly reply, basking in the glorious view of her tits in front of me.

  “Thank you for your service,” she whispers. “Please accept mine.”

  With a light chuckle, I grin and flick out my tongue to catch a hardened peak, and she writhes, standing between my legs. My demanding fingers undo her jeans, and I slip my palms against her firm buttocks. She shakes them down as I clutch her skin, with my hands, and ravenously suckle upon her nipple. “I want to fuck you, Stormy.”

  “You should,” she encourages. “I’m so wet.”

  I latch my fingers onto her arm and pull her across my lap. I swat her ass once as a test to see if she was serious. She doesn’t flinch or complain, and I spank her bottom hard for being so damned beautiful and turning me into a sex-crazed monster.

  “This never happens.”

  “Pity,” she playfully banters, grinding her breasts against my shaft. “We could hookup like hornballs until dawn.”

  STORMY

  I tossed the ball into his court because I get it. Not every older man believes he can cross the line without guilt. This one with the raging hard-on pressed into my chest can push into my no-fly zone. Sometimes, a girl just knows when a guy is special.

  “Can I buy you breakfast in the morning?”

  “Mhmm,” I say as he smooths his calloused fingers over the tender flesh on my rear. “You sure can.” I bite my lip with a smile and add, “And then you can have your way with me until lunch.”

  He laughs. “No holding back once we go there?”

  “Why would we?” I suggest as he runs his finger under the waistband of my thong. “You know you want it.”

  He removes his hand from me, and I take the opportunity to stand. With my back to him, I bend ove
r, giving the perfect view of my marked derriere. I fork my fingers around the silken straps and slowly pull them down.

  “Jesus…where did you come from?”

  I laugh. “You have no idea how much I want to claim being a Sugargrove slut, but unfortunately there are ten miles between home and where my heart is.”

  “… Were you a student?”

  “Are you kidding?” I ask, giggling. “My father is the upstanding Reverend James Jennings. Attending Juliet would have been a hypocrisy, I only dreamed of it.”

  Quiet fills the air as I straddle over his lap. “Are you afraid to rebel again?”

  “Not at all,” I reply. “I just need a good reason to do it.”

  “And you want that reason to be me?”

  I snicker, “You’re involved with the mafia for which the school is known for, and if you can get me in, I’m prepared to audition as many times as it takes.”

  His eyes focus on me. “Why would a smart pretty girl want to get involved with the mob?”

  “Because I already have been,” she subtly informs. “I ran deals with the club in Mississippi until Nolan died. I can be very persuasive, especially with a good pair of heels and a Glock in my hand.”

  He shakes his head, dumbfounded. “How did you get in that position?”

  My hands rest against his muscled chest, and I glance up to meet his inquisition. “People knew where I was from and used it to their advantage.”

  “You know things…”

  “Many things,” I lure, rolling my hips against his body and hoping he doesn’t decide to off me.

  “You’re driving me wild doing that.”

  Lifting my body slightly, I reach down and guide his cock to my entrance. “Merge with me, Randy.”

  The forceful impact of his thrust startles every nerve ending. It’s been too long since I’ve done this. He pushes deep inside of me, so much bigger and harder than I remember. “Take a breath, beautiful.”

  “It’s been awhile.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he replies, caressing the curve of breasts. “I’m in this until the mission is completed.”

  He grabs onto my hips and prohibits my escape, and I tease, “You enticed me as much as I did you.”

  “Yeah,” he cockily acknowledges. “I did. We’re just getting friendly, becoming fuck buddies.”

  With a quiver in my voice, I ask, “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Not yet.” He stands, picking me up and setting my ass on a table. “I’m gonna fuck you first.”

  He arrived in the bar tonight with a strategy of seducing me. Grabbing onto my hips, he rolls his cock inside of me.

  “Fuck!” I moan. He’s good—doing things to me—that only a real man would know how to do. “What all do you know about me?”

  “Not as much as I should,” he replies. “I had to get confirmation it was you. Your file popped up on my laptop just this morning. I didn’t have time to thoroughly read through it before Tank called and told me my bike was here.”

  “More excited over a bike than a bitch?”

  “If I had known the bitch looked like you,” he rebukes, taking his time screwing me. “There wouldn’t have even been a debate, sweetheart.”

  “I’m nothing special.”

  “I think that’s where you’re wrong,” he says, latching his fingers into mine. “You’re very special.”

  “God, don’t stop,” I whisper. “Fuck me with your big dick.”

  He grins and grips my wrists, holding me down as he has his way with me. His lips skim over my neck, kissing and gnawing on the flesh. My legs willingly wrap around his body, beckoning his presence.

  He growls in my ear, “What do you know?”

  I giggle beneath his weight. “It’s going to take more of your dick to coax it out of me.”

  “You kinky minx,” he mumbles. “Mean girls never fare well.”

  I arch my hips up to meet his. “Am I really being mean though?”

  He shoves himself away, pulling from my body, as I sit up exasperated. “You’re going to kill me,” I maintain, trying to hinder the tears. “Please don’t…”

  I sprint from the table and pummel into his body, but he pushes me to the ground in a flash. We start a tug-of-war meant for the record books. I kick my legs and swing my arms with hopes of scurrying away.

  He falls on top of my back, pinning me down. Spreading my legs, he thrusts inside my puddle with a loud grunt. “I told you we were fucking.”

  RANDY

  On my knees behind her, I thrust into her hollow with the ferocity of a madman. I need to get off in this girl. Now. Fuck the intel. I need to fill her with me.

  I can’t decide if I will be defending her position to my boss or praying she goes against her father. But I will worry about that tomorrow when the air is clear, and I can think about something other than the raging manifesto of my cock needing to come.

  She squeals as my palm smacks into her bottom, and I clutch my fingers around her hair and tug. I’ll ride her the rest of the night to prove how little I care about the knowledge she has. I hate the young ones. And the devil got me jonesing for them like a junkie needing the idyllic high.

  “Take it, baby,” I urge, rocking my hips faster and faster as I lead us to the precipice. I won’t glitch, and I won’t falter. I will push her over the edge and feel every pulsating beat of her orgasm showering over my aching dick. “Come for me.”

  “… Me?” she asks like the idea is unheard of, and I’m not surprised.

  “Yes, you… Come on my cock,” I demand, barking orders as I yank her hair a little harder and drive in the fact that I am the Master from the nest she fears. “Let go on me.”

  “Can I let go with you?”

  “We’ll fall like dominoes, Stormy.” I jerk her hair back, exposing her neck for my marking, and sink my teeth into the deliciousness of the moment. “Do it. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Do you promise?” Her whimpers fill my veins as I run the risk of revealing my heart with this one. She is dangerous, and I’m running on impulses driven by the wrong head. I like this girl way too much. She’s no longer Project: Infiltrate Stormy, but a woman I would like to wake up next to, at least until we fizzle out. “I’m in so much trouble, Randy.”

  “I know you are,” I confirm, knowing she wouldn’t have ended up in my e-mail with an urgent message if she wasn’t in a dire place. I don’t do the research; I work on the ground and go means go. “Come to me. I will take care of you.”

  It’s a hard decision to make, but one I agreed to years ago—deciding which ones survive to see the morning light. Whoever she is and whatever she knows, I will find out soon enough, and then I will do everything in my power to make sure she doesn’t end up six feet under.

  “My father is going to kill me and you.”

  “He’s never going to know about this,” I reassure with a slow, deep roll inside of her warmth. “If I have to take you hostage, I will.”

  Beneath a shower of tears, she laughs. “But would you put a ring on it?”

  Whoa.

  That’s a little further than I planned on going for securing an asset, but why the fuck not?

  “I will do whatever it takes to keep you breathing.”

  “The second he finds out I was with you,” she breathlessly whispers as I stop moving and rest my hand on her lower back. “Hell will erupt.”

  “And how will getting married make it any easier?”

  “Because we will have protection.”

  Oh. Fuck.

  Shit just got messier than sin.

  This is when I kick my ass for not reading the whole file. I was in a hurry, excited about Samantha arriving at Tank’s, and details slipped through the cracks. It was my fault.

  Stormy Jennings—the twenty-two-year-old prisoner to her father’s antiquarian views, ran off to Mississippi and got involved with an outlaw biker gang—has so many secrets. If it cannot get any worse, she is also soaking aroun
d my dick.

  And I’m really enjoying it.

  “Are you planning on killing me?” I ask, needing to hear the answer. I understand full well that she may be lying. “Am I just your way inside of the nest?”

  With dampened lips, she whispers, “That’s up to you to decide.”

  Against her cheek, I growl, “Could you obey me?”

  “Could I…”

  “Obey me?” I repeat the question.

  “I don’t even know you,” she argues as I loosely wrap my hand around her throat. “Do it, choke me good.”

  She unexpectedly rolls against me. I acknowledge at that moment how fine-tuned she is to play the game unless she genuinely does want me. Me fucking her is one thing; her fucking me back is in a different league and elevates the tension. I want to believe this is just a desperate one-night stand, but I think it might be more.

  For me.

  I want this girl on her knees.

  I don’t involve my personal and work life. I do my best to keep them in their separate corners, away from one another, so issues like this don’t happen.

  I need a cigarette and a drink.

  I slam my hips against her body, pirating what I need without remorse. She slicks against my shaft, and I drive home the point of the lesson. She must be willing to answer the questions, regardless of what they are or if they make any sense. She must try. She must fight. She must trust me. Or she will end up dead. “Give me your gut answer, Stormy! Can you obey me?”

  “Yes, Sir!” she howls as I release her hair, and she lowers her head between her forearms. “Are you going to keep me safe?”

  “Come for me, and we’ll talk about protection.”

  Need more Randy & Stormy?

  Kailee’s full-length book—Chasing Storms—will release spring 2021.

  FOLLOW KAILEE:

  Books → http://bit.ly/KRSamuels

  FB Page → http://bit.ly/DirtyPoetry