BAD BOY'S KISS: A Dark Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Naomi West

  She lifted up and positioned herself over his dick, then lowered herself onto it. She gasped as it breached her, the friction driving her wild. She let gravity do its work, until she was seated on him and he was groaning, twisting his hips, shaking with the apparent effort of holding back. He was as deep inside her as it was possible to get. “Oh God,” she whispered. She could feel every inch of him. That hot, smooth shaft, the hair of his balls against her pussy lips.

  She started to move, rocking back and forth at first, then lifting and lowering herself, whimpering as she found an angle that rubbed her G-spot with every stroke. The pleasure built inside her, and the sight of Pistol straining not to come, the feel of him rolling his hips in an effort to add to their mutual desire, made Katrin soar. She rolled her pelvis, sitting back hard on his dick, making herself cry out with the intensity of the pleasure.

  Pistol placed both hands on her hips, and while she could see him gritting his teeth in pain, apparently pleasure overrode it, because he dug his fingers into her sides and pulled her down on top of him, thrusting his hips up sharply to meet her. She cried out again, every nerve in her body lighting up.

  A gust entered the cave, meeting the heat of her skin, and suddenly the flashlight went out. She made a startled sound, and then they both laughed. From there, it was just their harsh breathing in the pitch darkness, the sensation of skin against skin as Katrin rode Pistol toward orgasm. His fingertips trailed down her hips, and then strong, warm hands cupped her ass, pulling her closer. In the dark, every touch became an unexpected delight, and she found herself paying closer attention to his body, trying to sense each movement before it happened and use her own body to harmonize with it.

  He began to use short, sharp thrusts to stroke her G-spot. Her cries grew higher and breathier; his groans deeper, and finally she went over the edge, bucking as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her. Just when she thought she’d gotten a handle around the sensation, she jerked as a new wave hit her and she rode her way to a second, even more powerful orgasm. She let out what was almost a sob, contracting her pussy around the length of velvet steel within her.

  She gasped, collapsing on top of him. He pumped twice more and came. “Holy shit,” he whispered. He whispered it over and over as she slid off of him and stretched out beside him on the blanket. She was panting so hard she couldn’t hear anything else but the harsh echo of her breath against the cave walls in the dark.

  Pistol was panting too, still swearing under his breath. He rolled slightly. Stroked her hair with his uninjured hand. His touch stilled after a moment.

  “We didn’t use a condom.” His voice was hoarse.

  She went rigid, all of that wonderful post-orgasm relaxedness leaving her in an instant. This was her chance. This was where she told him she was already pregnant, that a condom only mattered if he wasn’t clean.

  But did the fact that he didn’t seem upset that he might have just gotten her pregnant…did that mean it was safe to tell him?

  A memory came to her of her mother — just after Jess had been diagnosed. She’d come into Katrin’s room. Sat on the edge of Katrin’s white-and-lavender bed and told Katrin what the doctors had said.

  Katrin had been stunned — even more stunned to learn that she was the first person her mother had told.

  “What about Daddy? You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”

  “Eventually.” Katrin’s mother had given a long, pained sigh, closing her eyes.

  “But why haven’t you told him?” Katrin had been able to feel the panic welling up inside her, tightening her throat. Her father would know what to do. They needed to tell him, so that he could help.

  “A woman’s body,” her mother had said, gazing at the floor, “has a right to its secrets. Throughout all of history it has been displayed, scrutinized, regulated, commodified.” She looked up at Katrin. “If something is happening with your body, and you’re not ready to talk about it, then don’t. Not until you know it’s safe. Not until you’re sure that any choices you make will be yours and no one else’s.”

  Katrin hadn’t quite understood at the time — though something about her mother’s words did make sense to her, deep down. “Do you not trust Dad?”

  “It’s not a matter of trust. I just … need some time to be alone with this.”

  “But you toldme.” Katrin struggled to keep her voice from breaking. The thought of anything being wrong with her mother was too devastating for words.

  Her mother took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry. About all of this.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Katrin whispered. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  “It’s going to be okay.” Her mother half smiled. “We’re going to fight this.”

  We? Katrin had thought.Just me and you?

  A week later, Jess had told Katrin’s father. Katrin had been listening from the stairwell. Had heard her father cry for the first time in memory.

  I just … need some time to be alone with this.

  To make sure it’s safe.

  She sought Pistol’s hand in the dark. Tugged it to her lips and kissed it.

  “I know. I wanted it,” she whispered. “I wantedyou.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. Held her safe in that strong embrace until she fairly melted into him. “I wanted you too,” he said against her hair. “I’m sorry,” he said after a while. “For earlier.”

  “Me too. I shouldn’t have pretended to know your story. Your situation.”

  “Same.” He squeezed her hand, and though she couldn’t see him, she heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Though I do think I’m starting to get to know you pretty well.”

  “Oh yeah?” She smiled too.

  “Yeah. Some nights, I feel like…” He paused, and she waited, breathless, for whatever he was going to say. She cherished these moments when he spoke to her honestly, intimately.

  “Like your snoring is music I could sing along to.”

  She gave a loud, surprised laugh and slapped his chest lightly. “I donot snore.”

  “You sure do, darlin’.”

  “You sound like a train applying the emergency brake.”

  He chuckled. “You’re not the first person to say that.”

  Katrin felt an unexpected flare of jealousy, thinking about all the women who’d listened to her husband snore. That’s in the past now. He says he’s faithful to you now.

  Do I believe him?

  She did. She’d seen how loyal Jax could be to his brothers. She believed he was capable of being faithful to her.

  But if I’m wrong … I don’t want to tell him about the baby unless I’m sure.

  She pushed the thoughts aside. Ran a hand lightly over Pistol’s chest. “I know you pretty well too. Even in the dark, I know what your body looks like. I can see it in my mind. All your tattoos.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mm-hm.” She traced lightly around his nipple. Felt him shiver. “I’ve been studying.” She leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “But I don’t know what all of them mean.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  She outlined an area on his left pec. “Right here, there’s Darth Vader on a Harley.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. No regrets.”

  “When did you get that?”

  “I was twenty-one. ’Rango dared me.”

  She swept her hand down his side, tracing what she imagined was the outline of the long, winding highway inked along his ribcage. “This is my favorite one. There’s a speed limit sign, mountains in all these … subtle greens and browns. A sun sinking behind them. I think about this one a lot. The empty road, and the mountains.”

  “That’s Three Sisters. My favorite place to ride. To escape.”

  “What do you need to escape from?” she murmured.

  He didn’t answer right away. “I love my brothers. But sometimes I still need time alone. Or with just Deion. And the mountains there are incredible. Just feels so quiet and peaceful.”


  She moved down to his hip with one finger. Felt him twitch a little. “Ticklish?” she asked with a smile.

  “I dunno. You’re the expert on my body.”

  She laughed and traced the same path again. He jerked. “Youare. How about that?”

  “Why do I have a feeling you’re going to use that against me?”

  She giggled. “Never.”

  “Uh-huh. So what’s there, Miss Smartypants?”

  “A meat cleaver. Which I don’t understand.”

  “Me either. I was drunk.”

  “Were you sober for any of these?”

  “Hell yeah. The scales, for sure.”

  She ran her hand across his chest and then up, seeking his collarbone. “Right here,” she murmured, tracing the shape of the scales.

  “Yeah. I was goin’ for something deep.”

  “You’re a justice man?”

  “It ain’t even about justice, necessarily. It’s about balance.”

  “How so?” she was genuinely curious.

  “I guess I’m always kinda lookin’ for balance in the people I hang with. Kong’s calm balanced out my mom’s crazy. Deion’s sense of humor, it balances out Kong’s seriousness.” He paused. “And you … maybe you kinda balance out me. And how rough I am.”

  “Rough?”

  “Yeah. Just, like … I know I can be a dick. And I know I do a lot of stupid shit. But when I’m around you, I try to be less of a dipshit.”

  “That’s kind of sweet.”

  He held her closer.

  “But I don’t think you’re a dipshit,” she whispered. “You help me survive, Jax. I … I need you.”

  A soft hitch in his breathing. “I need you too.”

  Warmth flooded her. She snuggled closer to him, trying to stave off the fear that was trying to creep in again.

  “Tomorrow…” she murmured.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “Don’t think about that now. Let’s just have tonight.”

  Katrin closed her eyes. Beside her, Pistol’s breathing gradually slowed, and she drifted in a haze of wonder and desire and a hope that probably should have been killed a long time ago, but that still burst through her, growing stronger with each soft breath.

  It’s going to be okay. We’re going to fight this.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Pistol woke in pain. His shoulder throbbed with agony, and he was disoriented for a moment — overheated and aching. Then he realized he was twined with Katrin in the emergency blanket, in a cave in the desert, and he smiled.

  There were worse places to wake up.

  That had been hot as hell last night — watching her ride him, watching her lose herself in pleasure, watching her full breasts bounce and feeling her clench around him as she experienced orgasm after orgasm. He wished they could go for round two — his dick was certainly up for it — but he knew they couldn’t hang around here much longer. Not with limited food and barely any water.

  He stretched, and immediately wished he hadn’t as rays of pain shot up his injured arm. He felt strange as hell today. Probably because he knew he had to figure out a way to confront a fucking psychopath without devastating said psychopath’s daughter.

  Katrin blinked awake beside him. Stretched, kicking the blanket off. It was early, judging by the light outside, but it was already hot.

  “Mornin’,” he said.

  “Morning.” She smiled sleepily, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” he lied. “My shoulder’s better.” He sat up. With the natural light coming in, the cave looked different — desolate, with its gray floor and scraps of rock and the dust that hung thick in the air. “I should go into town and try to find some help.”

  She blinked and propped up on her elbows. “Are you going to look for my father?”

  He glanced at her. Saw the concern etched in her beautiful face. He’d done this to her — made her worry, put her in unsafe situations. No more. He would end all that today. He would make Rialto a safe place to bring her home to.

  But he couldn’t look her in the eye and tell her he was going to kill her father the second he saw the bastard. Couldn’t tell her that, depending on what he found when he got into Rialto, this could turn into a dangerous revolt. That if he and the surviving Souls fought back against Smith, they’d almost surely die.

  So he said, “I’m not making any moves yet. I’m just going to check the clubhouse and see if I can get some weapons. Find out how closely your father’s men are guarding the place.”

  “And if they’re guarding it pretty damn closely?” She stared at him, arching an eyebrow.

  “Then I won’t do anything stupid,” he promised. He stood and stretched, more carefully this time. Grabbed his clothes off the floor of the cave and started to dress.

  She began packing things back into the emergency kit.

  “You can stay here and relax. Eat something.”

  “No way. I’m riding with you.”

  “Uh-uh. No way am I dragging you into this.”

  She looked up. “You could barely stay on the bike last night. You can’t ride now.”

  “Kat, I’m fine. I know what I’m doing. I don’t want you to get any more involved than you have to.”

  She sighed, half laughing. “You’re so stubborn.”

  He grinned. “Get used to it.” He snapped his fly.

  She leaned back on her hands. “I’d rather go with you. I can help. It’s pointless having me stay out here alone.”

  Pistol yanked his jacket on, trying not to grit his teeth as he moved his shoulder. “I’m just going to scout things out. Then I’ll be back and we can plan our next move together.”

  He knelt and kissed her, relishing the sweet taste of her mouth, the lingering scent of shampoo in her thick hair, the softness of her body as she leaned into him, their bodies melting together.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said when they parted, feeling a stab of guilt at her anxious expression. “I’m going to get help, Kat. You know we can’t stay out here. And I’m not gonna put you in danger when it’s not necessary.”

  She nodded. “I know. But I ... I don’t think we should separate.” She gave a smile that looked forced. “I’ve seen horror movies, you know.”

  He returned her smile with a confidence he didn’t feel. “This isn’t a horror movie. Promise. I’ll go see what’s up in town, and then I’ll come right back.”

  He turned and started toward the bike, but she caught his arm. “Pistol—”

  He turned back to her. Her lips parted like she was about to speak. He waited, sensing this was important. But then she shook her head. “Sorry, I ... I just hate this.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “Why don’t you eat some of the food from our stash? Keep your strength up.”

  He gave her another quick kiss then got up on the bike. His shoulder throbbed like fuck, but he’d live. He started the bike, and programmed the GPS to remember their current coordinates. Then, with a last glance at Katrin — beautiful, with her long dark hair whipping in the breeze, her arms crossed under her breasts — he roared off across the sand, toward the road.

  ###

  He was exhausted by the time he reached Rialto. Man, the blood loss really was fucking with him. He felt woozy as shit and not at all ready for whatever he might find waiting for him at Blackened Souls HQ.

  He grimaced as he dismounted behind a church a couple of blocks from the clubhouse. He knew he needed to prioritize getting weapons. If he could somehow make it into the clubhouse — fat chance of that; it was the number one place Smith would be guarding — he’d look through some of the secret caches there, see if there was anything left. If not, he’d hit up the gun shops in town. He wasn’t thrilled about that prospect — who knew how deep Smith had his claws into the business owners in this town. He whistled softly as he approached the clubhouse from the back, making sure to stay in the cover of the trees and bushes.

 
The place looked dead empty — dark windows, the garage closed, and a ghostly air of abandonment. Pistol crept up to the side, behind some yew bushes, and stood on the central air until to peer through a window. No sign of life.

  He opened the window as slowly and quietly as he could. Hoisted himself up on the sill, nearly shouting in agony at the strain on his shoulder. He could feel the wound starting to seep again, but he ignored it. He pulled himself into the filthy bedroom Bones and Hap shared.