by Bijou Hunter
Oz lets me nudge him off me. He opens his mouth to apologize for not holding out longer, but I flick his nose.
“Save your tongue for getting me off,” I say and shove him flat onto his back before climbing higher on the bed so I can lower my pussy over his waiting mouth.
Oz shoves two fingers into me and latches onto my clit. I cry out, grab on to the headboard, and pray he doesn’t rip off my most tender spot in his rush to prove he can make me come.
His unrelenting tongue drives me closer to the tipping point where we’re even—and everything is about remaining even—when I glance back self-consciously to check the door. I see it’s locked as expected, but I also catch a glimpse of his impressively thick cock already pumped for another ride. The sight of Oz spread out on this cheap yellow and silver comforter makes me laugh. That bit of relaxation is all I need to give into the intense pressure of his tongue, lips, and those thrusting fingers.
“Osiris Savo,” I groan while resting my head against the wall and letting the waves of hot pleasure rush through me. “You just made me come, and it was fantastic.”
Still lapping at my flesh, he removes his fingers from my body and reaches up to grab my breasts. “Dick needs attention.”
“You poor sonovabitch have lost the ability to form full sentences. I can’t say I’m surprised,” I tease while turning around and crawling until I’ve straddled his powerful thighs. “You weren’t kidding about your dick, though.”
I stroke his flesh with both hands before lowering my nipples to graze his coarse chest hairs. Sliding forward, I kiss him and taste my pleasure on his lips. I smile when our mouths part.
“Your beard is covered with my juices,” I murmur.
“As it should be,” he says in a rough, hungry voice. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first day you walked into Rusty Cage.”
“You were so subtle about that too.”
Grinning, I rise and slide backward enough to feel his hard cock probing my pussy.
“Want to tease my tits while I play cowgirl on your dick?” I murmur.
“Is that a real question?”
I smile wider and guide the head of his cock back into my body. Giving my pussy a chance to adjust to his size, I enjoy the feel of his strong, rough hands squeezing my breasts.
“That no eyelids thing was cool,” I say and begin to move my hips. “Stupid but cool.”
Oz opens his mouth to reply. Thinking better of whatever he planned to say, he remains silent and instead focuses on teasing my nipples. I grip his wrists to balance myself as I move faster, taking him deeper.
Nothing about us makes sense, but Oz is the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. Fucking him feels right, perfect, destined. Making sense is overrated anyway.
➸ Oz ★
Ginger never looks away from my face while riding my cock. She dares me to hold her gaze, but I’m too fixated on her bouncing tits to play the game.
Her hypnotic nipples beg me to torment them with my fingers. Pulling and pinching the red tips, I’m amazed she hid these babies so well under her faded T-shirts.
This time around, I don’t shoot my wad like a horny teen. Ginger rides my dick through two of her orgasms before she reaches back and fondles my balls. She’s clearly trying to make me come. Why is she in such a hurry? Does she know she can’t run away if I’m balls-deep inside her?
“No,” I groan as her fingers stroke my balls.
“Yes,” she whispers and gently rakes her nails over the tender flesh.
“Control freak.”
Ginger smiles at my words because I say them through gritted teeth as my balls betray me and release a gallon of cum into her pussy.
“You look like a cranky baby when you come,” she says and kisses me once I’ve filled her with my seed. “Don’t go jerk just because my pussy begs for a break.”
When Ginger kisses me again, I wrap her in my arms, so she can’t escape. She still manages to climb off me and the bed before disappearing into the bathroom. I use this moment to search for her shoes with the plan to hide them somewhere in the room. Realizing Ginger would drive barefoot, I grab her panties and jeans instead before shoving them under the mattress. The woman is fearless, but I really can’t imagine she’ll ride bare ass back to Rawlins.
Now that she can’t escape, I stretch out on the bed and enjoy the relaxation that comes from getting laid after weeks of permanent erections.
Ginger appears from the bathroom and looks around as if she’s noticed her shit is missing. Her gaze finds me, and she cocks her left eyebrow. Without saying anything, she crawls onto the bed and snuggles against me.
“You tatted your kids’ names on your ribcage,” she murmurs as her fingers tease the tattooed flesh. “Why your ribcage?”
“Parenthood can be difficult and painful, and tats on the ribs hurt like a motherfucker.”
“Did you come up with that on your own or did your mommy give you the idea?”
“All me.”
Ginger smiles softly. “You have a romantic heart, Oz. It’s a bit jarring.”
“Only to you, G.”
“Men with lofty thinking aren’t usually sexy badasses with giant dicks and charisma to spare. They’re nerds who have to be romantic because that’s the only way they can get chicks.”
“I have a soft spot for your jaded heart.”
“I have a soft spot for you period.”
Ginger’s baring a little of her heart for me, and I want to point out how she’s so into me, and how we’re going to fuck forever. I bite my tongue and only caress the spine of her back. Gentle rather than greedy, I behave because Ginger is forever testing me, and I plan to keep her. Maybe I really am a romantic with lofty dreams.
“I can stay the night,” Ginger says, and I nearly jump out of my skin. The woman is handing me gifts left and fucking right.
“I’ll call home and let them know.”
Ginger smiles at my tone. “You didn’t have to hide my underwear. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. I paid for the room, and I don’t piss away money for fun.”
My hand slides down her back and gives her sweet ass a tap. “I want you to admit two things,” I say, reaching across my chest to tug at her nipple taunting me. “One is you were wrong to mess with my part of the business. The second is that I’m a better fuck than your old goofy-haired boy-toy.”
“As for the first one, fuck off. As for the second, of course, but I don’t provide awards for effort.”
“It breaks my heart you wasted time with Madden when you could have met me sooner and given your pussy what she needs.”
“Without Madden,” Ginger says, grinning, “I don’t know if I’d be ready for you. He was my first boyfriend.”
“I should have been your first.”
“Are we really playing this game? Can I complain I’m not your first?”
“This isn’t about our first fuck. Those ships sailed long ago. No, I mean I should have been the first man to make you crazy enough to think about babies and spending forever with. Not Goofy Hair, but a man capable of challenging you.”
“And I’m the first woman to make you feel that way?”
“Of course. You’ve heard about my kids’ moms. I’m not accustomed to needing a woman beyond getting off. With you, it’s different. I should have been the first man to make you feel that way.”
Ginger studies my face. “You want to kill Madden, don’t you?”
“You can’t even imagine how much I crave that asshole’s blood.”
“I wouldn’t mind beating the shit out of your baby mamas, so I guess we’re even.”
“No, not really.”
Ginger sits up and narrows her eyes at me. “Madden is married with a kid and has totally moved on and will never enter my life in a personal way again. Your baby mamas, both of them I might add, could return to Rawlins and fuck up your life at any moment. If either of us should be pissed about past lovers, it ought to be me.”
�
�Wrong,” I mutter, reaching for her tits and those tempting nipples. “I never cared about them. You cared about Goofy Hair.”
“It’s true. Madden was very special to me.”
I look up from her tits and frown at her smiling face. “Don’t taunt me.”
“I don’t think your bloodlust for Madden has anything to do with me. It’s all about your ego.”
“Of course. I’ve wanted to claim you since we met. Killing him would help me feel that no one was left in the world who knew you the way I do.”
“Then you’ll need to kill my crew too because they know me like you never will.”
“That’s different.”
“Not really.”
“Why are we talking about this shit?” I grumble, clenching my eyes and wondering if we can go an hour without getting into a pissing match.
“I don’t know. I think we like to argue.”
“Yeah, we do,” I admit. “Whenever you piss me off, I think about your tits, and that’s always a good thought.”
“I thought you were an ass man.”
“No, not really. Men have asses. Nothing special about that, but these sweet tits are quite remarkable.”
Sounding suddenly young and fragile, Ginger giggles at my comment. She rests back on the bed, allowing me easier access to her gorgeous tits. I scoot further down the bed and nuzzle my lips against one of her pinchable nipples. I draw her hard flesh into my mouth, tug her body closer, and suck like a baby looking for comfort. Or in my case, a man wanting to devour the woman who insists on escaping when she belongs at his side.
➸ Ginger ☆
My right nipple teases Oz’s lips. When he tries to latch on, I lean away and make him wait. Between my legs, Oz taunts my clit with the head of his cock. We’re in a holding pattern, waiting for the other one to say please first. I refuse to give in, even though my pussy aches for penetration.
“It’s not really fair,” I murmur while tugging at his hair and leaning back, so my nipples remain out of reach. “You got to come on my chest, but I’ve been orgasm-less for an hour. A real man wouldn’t let his woman go so long without pleasure.”
Smelling a con, Oz asks, “Are you my woman?”
“Yes, Oz, I am,” I whisper, kissing him gently.
Our lips part, and he smiles warmly at me. “Then say ‘please.’”
Rolling my eyes, I growl, “Get your dick out of my way, and I’ll do this shit myself.”
Oz leans his head against the wall and laughs triumphantly. I didn’t say please, but I’m giving up on the challenge. He keeps smiling as his fingers guide his cock into my body.
“Don’t be a sore loser,” he says softly. “I’ll make you come plenty. After all, you’re my woman.”
I hate the grateful smile on my face, but the man so easily wraps me around his pinkie finger. Sighing at the feel of him stretching me open as no man has before; I rest my hands back on his knees and begin rolling my hips. With my reclining position, Oz gains access to both my nipples he’s obsessed with and my nearly orgasmic clit.
Earlier, Oz sucked my tits until he sported an erection that he soon slid between my breasts. I rested my hands under my head and let him fuck my tits to his heart’s content. Oz kneaded my nipples furiously as he got closer to coming, leading me to an achy pussy and our current situation.
Lust blinds me to the reality of saying I’m Oz’s woman. When I was with Madden, we talked about the future, but nothing felt immediate or necessary. We both wanted to be in a relationship more than we wanted to be together. With Madden, I had a choice to stay or leave. Walking away made me unhappy because I’d wanted to be close to someone, not because I wanted to be close to him.
With Oz, I have no choice. Wanting him this much is completely inconvenient. I just arrived in Rawlins. The townhomes aren’t finished. Duffy and Yarrow are especially on edge. I haven’t properly terrified the law enforcement dicks. Everything is in flux, so the last thing I need is to be constantly distracted by my need for a man who comes with kids, a less than enthused with me mother, and a club full of immature, unmarried men. My focus should be on keeping Oz and his guys on their toes rather than calling out his name as if seeing heaven.
“Orgasms look good on you,” he says, pulling me closer so he can slide my nipple into his mouth and suck hungrily.
“Oz, I wish I could come hard enough not to want you.”
He looks up at me, refusing to let go of my nipple, but I see the “fuck you” in his gaze.
Without slowing my hips, I say, “Admit your life would be easier if you were hung up on someone besides me.”
His response is for his teeth to apply threatening pressure to my nipple. I narrow my eyes, daring him to piss me off when I have his balls literally in the palm of my hand. Finally, he lets go of my nipple and lifts his lips to meet mine.
“I admit nothing,” he whispers when the kiss ends. “Ginger is the only woman worth the shit she puts me through.”
“She sounds amazing.”
“She is, but she’s scared of having her heart hurt. I’m working on helping her get over that.”
Brushing my lips against his, I whisper, “Good luck with that.”
His expression is too honest and determined. Instantly, I need away from Oz and his unrelenting desire to force me to open myself completely to him.
“Nope,” he says, tugging me closer.
“I need...”
“Nope,” he says again and maneuvers me onto my back. Now on top, he pins me under him. “There’s nowhere you need to be, Ginger.”
Covering my face with my hands, I struggle with the lack of control. The last time I felt so powerless was with Mitch, but he’s long dead. I know logically that Oz isn’t Mitch, but my heart can’t feel it.
“You see me,” Oz says in a commanding voice. “Not Goofy Hair or monster from your past. You see me and only me. Do you understand?”
I peer at him through my fingers, and a struggle inside me ensues between the damaged woman and the bitch she hides behind. Ginger Snaps wins out, and I wrap my legs around his hips and dig my heels into his fine ass.
“Yes, I understand,” I say through gritted teeth.
Oz only smiles. “I like it rough especially with foxy, temperamental blondes.”
The fear in my chest fades, replaced by lust and what feels a whole lot like love.
It’d be a lie to say I trust Oz, but there’s no denying I need him as I’ve never needed another person in my life. He owns a part of me that I lack control over. My heart and soul listen to him and ignore every damn thing I tell them.
Sex didn’t free me of his pull, instead giving him more power. My big move today with the hotel backfired, and I’m all out of ideas.
➸ Oz ★
I’m forced to put on my pants to answer the door for the pizza delivery. Ginger only pulls up the blanket to cover her delicious tits. I tell the guy to hold on while I throw my shirt at her. When she doesn’t move, I cross my arms.
“Put it on.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want him to see your bare shoulders.”
Ginger snorts before bursting into laughter. Rather than obeying my order about the shirt, she pulls the blanket over her head and hides underneath while laughing at me.
A minute later, I set a pizza and sodas on a side table. When Ginger doesn’t appear from under the blanket, I yank it back to find her on her phone.
“Why did you get a room with two beds?” I ask and open the pizza box.
“One for secreting fluids. One for sleeping.”
“How did you know I could stay the night?”
“Why do you assume I assumed anything? Maybe I figured I’d sleep alone.”
“By yourself at a motel? Doesn’t seem safe,” I say, handing her a slice on a napkin.
Ginger tears her gaze from the phone and gives me a nasty look. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“Eat.”
“Set it on the table, and I
’ll eat when I’m done messaging Clove.”
“Or you can eat now.”
“Are you saying that as my lover or my father?”
Rolling my eyes, I turn on the TV and find a dumb comedy movie to watch. Ginger finally sets aside her phone and takes the pizza.
“No pineapple?”
Shooting her a dirty look, I’m happy to see her laugh in response. Earlier, Ginger tried to escape. Now she’s accepted her fate to spend an entire night in my baller presence.
“My kids like you a lot.”
“I suspect they like everyone, Oz.”
“Not really,” I lie.
“The townhomes are so close to being finished. Then we’ll move in, and I’ll have your family over.”
“They could be your family soon.”
Ginger’s blue eyes widen. “Please, please, please, do not talk about that kind of stuff right now. Let me get used to having a man before I think about having a family.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Thanks,” she says, winking at my frowning face. “I have spare rooms at my place, so if things between us work out...”
“They will,” I interrupt, “so stop staying ‘if.’”
“The kids will have their own rooms. That’d be cool, huh?”
“They don’t need separate rooms.”
Ginger flashes an annoyed frown my direction. “Oz, you need to pick an emotion, okay? Either you’re happy with me wanting your kids at my place, or you’re pissed about having to move from your tiny house in the country.”
“Let me think about it.”
“You do that,” she says before focusing on the movie and finishing her pizza.
Ginger eventually slides my shirt over her head and makes a bathroom run. I wait for her to return so we can end up in the same bed.
“No more,” she whines when I crawl into the “clean” bed with her. “I’m leaking all over the place already, and I think your giant dick bruised my ribs.”
“Probably,” I say, kicking off my jeans before yanking the blanket over us. “You haven’t mentioned the lack of a condom.”
