Devil's Ruin (Rawlins Heretics MC Book 2)

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Devil's Ruin (Rawlins Heretics MC Book 2) Page 12

by Bijou Hunter


  Without waiting, I stand and immediately climb on the couch. I hold onto his shoulders and lower my hips until I’m squatting over his cock.

  “Don’t be scared,” I whisper.

  My hips swing back and forth, so the head of his cock grazes my wide-open pussy. Blackjack holds his cock still and wraps an arm around my hips until his fingers grip my ass.

  His gaze holds mine, and he says through gritted teeth, “I’m only scared you’ll make me come before I get to feel the inside of your pussy.”

  Lowering my hips, I’m penetrated by his thick cock. More and more until my ass rests on his bare thighs. We both sigh, relieved to have finally reached this moment. I stare into his eyes and smile.

  “Do you still remember how to fuck?” I tease while my pussy tightens around his thick cock.

  “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

  I hadn’t meant to dare Blackjack to fuck me stupid but soon realize a challenged man is a very sexy and determined one.

  ➸ Blackjack ★

  There’s no way to fuck Yarrow long or hard enough to show her how good she feels to my long-deprived body. She rolls her hips wildly, wanting to come five seconds into our first fuck. I meet her impatience with my own. My fingers find her clit and give it a gentle pinch. When her hips buck, I tease the sweet flesh and make her lose her fucking mind.

  “No!” she nearly screams while vigorously bouncing on my dick.

  I’m too close to coming to worry about her making a racket and alerting all of Rawlins to our fun.

  “Yarrow, slow down or—”

  Taking my words as a challenge, she bounces faster and takes me deeper. That’s it. Game over.

  “Shit,” I groan and unleash all my pent-up desire.

  Yarrow groans with me as I thrust into her harder, likely banging her cervix. If she wants me to stop, her happy hips don’t show it.

  “More,” she begs and rolls off me before I can catch my breath. “That felt so good, and we have more condoms.”

  “Fucking doesn’t work like that,” I say, resting my head on the back of the couch and letting my body enjoy what I’ve craved for too damn long.

  “I’ll wait,” she says and leans her upper body on the couch next to me.

  Caressing her sweating forehead, I ask, “Are you going to keep your ass out like that?”

  “Yes,” she says, smiling up at me. “I want more.”

  “I know, but a dick needs time to relax between fucks.”

  “Would it help if I danced around?” she asks and wiggles her ass. “I don’t need music.”

  “Watching you dance would definitely—”

  Yarrow stands up and looks down at her tits, still pink from my fondling. She tugs at each nipple, more curious than aroused. Shit, the sight of her exploring immediately makes my dick swell.

  “Do you wish my boobs were bigger?” she asks, pulling both nipples so that her tits stick out further.

  I instantly stand and make quick work of the old condom, so I can slide on a new one. Yarrow is so busy playing with her tits that she doesn’t notice me until I’m inches from her.

  “Your dick is hard,” she says, staring up at me.

  “Yes, it is,” I murmur and fist her hair. “I want you to stay put, so we’re doing this my way.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Holding her by the hair, I lead Yarrow to the couch and have her sit down. I kneel down before spreading her legs. A moment passes while I take in the sight of her sweet pussy.

  “How wet are you?” I ask, sliding a finger inside her.

  “Umm... fuck me now.” I thrust a second finger inside her, and Yarrow wiggles wildly. “Yes. More.”

  My fingers leave her pussy and caress her lips. Yarrow opens her mouth to complain until the head of my cock teases her slit.

  “You are too fucking bossy,” I say and shove myself into her body.

  Inhaling sharply, Yarrow exhales softly. “I don’t care. More.”

  I lift her legs and rest them against my chest. Thrusting deeply in and out of her body, I watch her expressive face. She grips my arms as I move faster and harder. Her gaze locks onto mine, and she simply smiles.

  Just like that, I’m in love. No more denying the fact. This woman is better than any other, and she smiles at me like I’m the fucking sun. Yarrow picked me to love, and I have no doubt she does love me. Her smile isn’t the grin of a horny woman. Yarrow’s smile reveals her peace at being with me and no one else. Complete trust and love are what I see in her blue eyes. At that moment, I swear to never let her go.

  ➸ Yarrow ☆

  Blackjack’s arms trap me against him, and I wish I could stay the night. Except I can’t, so I wiggle free of his grip and back out of the front door. He watches me in a deceptively lazy way like how the cats watch each other just before bouncing.

  I smile at Blackjack, taking in the sight of him wearing only jeans. The button and zipper remain undone, and I enjoy the view of what Cayenne calls a man’s treasure trail. I remember how the hairs from his belly button to his pubes feel against my fingers. Everything about Blackjack is sexy, and I’ve got this addictive man wrapped around my pinkie.

  Leaving before he says something to make me return to the townhome, I run through the rain until reaching Ginger’s front door. I hurry inside and remove my damp slippers.

  Ginger looks over the back of the couch and frowns at me. I check to see if Blackjack’s tank top is visible under my flannel shirt. I add another button just in case.

  “I wasn’t sure you were coming home tonight,” Ginger says in an overly calm voice as she walks toward me in the kitchen.

  “I can’t sleep there. I don’t like that townhome.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I had sex.”

  Ginger exhales roughly and clenches her teeth. I smile at her angry face because it gets really red when she’s mad. One time, Duffy pointed at Ginger and said, “tomato.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “He’s not dead,” I say, walking past her. “Do we have cookies?”

  “Do you want to take a shower?”

  “No. I like the sticky feeling because it reminds me of the sex.”

  Ginger shushes me and gestures toward the kids who don’t care about our conversation.

  “They know you and Oz fuck. How could they not when you’re so loud?”

  “I am not loud,” Ginger says and then shrugs. “Fine, I get loud, but that’s not the point.”

  “Then what’s the point?”

  “Sex is a big deal.”

  “No, it’s really not. Clove said so. She said sex is like a pleasurable dump. Nothing more meaningful than clearing out your bowels.”

  “Well, there’s no denying Clove’s a romantic at heart.”

  “I don’t know what the means. Do we not have cookies?”

  “Glitch and Camo showed up a little while ago. They must have finished off the fresh cookies. There’s probably something in the cabinets.”

  “Why do you let them inside when you know they’ll eat everything?” I ask, angry now.

  “Don’t distract from what I asked.”

  “What did you ask?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Do you think Cayenne has cookies? I’m sleeping there tonight, so I’ll text and see what she says.”

  “Sleep here,” Ginger demands and grabs my hand. “You haven’t been around all day.”

  “I haven’t seen Duffy since the morning.”

  Ginger glances back at Oz as if he’ll help her, but he’s too busy goofing with Makoa and one of the cats to notice his wife focused on him. When she looks back at me, Ginger sighs. “Fine. Do what you want.”

  What I want is to take my sleeping bag and go to Cayenne’s before it gets late. My needs matter, but Ginger’s matter too, and she really wants me to stay with her.

  “I’ll stay,” I whisper and hug her. “Don’t cry.”

  “I wasn’t crying.


  “I think you want to.”

  “Only on the inside.”

  “But you’re happy now, right?”

  “I got my way, so, yes,” Ginger says, and I catch her smiling.

  “What do you want me to do now?”

  “Take a shower.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s weird that you don’t want to.”

  “No, you’re weird.”

  “I’m not ready to smell a man on you, okay?”

  “Okay,” I say and cross my arms. “But remember I’m not you. I don’t act like you or feel like you. I’m scared of different stuff, so don’t force me to pretend to be someone else.”

  “You’ve spent too much time around me and the crew. We’ve been bad influences.”

  “Yes, you have,” I say and walk toward the stairs. “I’ll take a shower while you make cookies.”

  “I’m not making cookies.”

  “They’re easy. Alani will show you.”

  Hearing her name, the girl jumps up from where she watches her father and brother wrestle like big dumb apes. She joins Ginger in the kitchen and smiles expectantly.

  I head upstairs while they discuss the sheet of pre-made cookies in the fridge. Hoping they make the sugar cookies with the jack-o’-lanterns, I think the ghost ones are weird.

  Showering, I savor the hint of pain between my legs. Blackjack marked me, and I’ll feel him all night. If I were braver, I’d stay the night at the townhome with him. We could talk or watch TV. Mostly, we could fuck again, and I could sleep with him nearby like in my dream. I could finally find out if he snores.

  Instead, I’m a coward unable to sleep in that place. Not even with the supremely handsome and naked Blackjack next to me.

  ➸ Blackjack ★

  The townhome is creepy once Yarrow leaves. I fight the urge to turn on all the lights during my walk upstairs to get another shirt after she snatched mine. Back downstairs, I switch on the TV, but not a damn thing looks interesting. What I want is Yarrow. She could stare into space and be a million times more entertaining than anything on TV.

  I stretch out on the couch and close my eyes. Yarrow’s face is all I see, but I’m restless without her here. I even consider playing the friendly neighbor and dropping by Ginger’s place. Then I remember Yarrow said she wanted to sleep at Cayenne’s, and I realize tracking her down might be tricky.

  Amazing sex after such a long drought leaves me raw like an exposed nerve. No woman before Yarrow ever made me want to open up about what happened when I was a teen. As I expected, she didn’t react as any other woman might. Rape, violence, and revenge make as much sense to her as pork chops, lava lamps, and colorful elephant pictures.

  If Yarrow spent the night, I wouldn’t be staring at my mom’s number on my phone. If she didn’t view this townhome as an affront to her safety, my fingers could enjoy her soft flesh rather than hitting the dial button.

  I consider hanging up before my mother answers. My pride refuses to let me chicken out when she’ll see my number. I’ve dealt with a lot of baggage tonight with Yarrow. Why not keep things rolling by contacting my mom for the first time in nearly a year?

  “Hey, Mom. It’s me,” I say, nearly forgetting to say, “Billy.”

  “Oh, are you all right? Are you in trouble?”

  Already resenting the implication that I’d need her help, I mutter, “No, I’m calling to say hello.”

  “Oh, it’s just been so long.”

  “Are you busy?”

  “No, no. I’m liking pictures on Facebook while your father watches a movie about stupid people lost in the woods.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  Mom’s silence nearly causes me to get off the phone. Then she says, “It’s been so long since you called. Though Dana’s daughter said she saw you driving around town on your motorcycle last week.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to call. You know I’m not a phone person.”

  “But you called tonight,” she says and actually sounds pleased.

  “Yeah, I was talking to someone tonight. A woman I’m dating. She and I were talking about family and the past. I realized it’s been a long time, and now with the holidays, I figured I should get over my phone problem and give you a call.”

  “I’m glad you did, Billy.”

  I ask about my sister, Bev, and hear the usual about how my sister is amazing for juggling work and family so fabulously.

  “She amazes me every day,” Mom says.

  Despite my mother’s predictable worshipping behavior, I can’t help smiling. The woman loves her kids, and no doubt dotes on her grandkids. I imagine one day giving her a baby to slobber over, and my mind returns to Yarrow. Where is she right now? Is she thinking of me? Oh, shit, yeah, she most definitely is. She’s probably thinking about fucking. I hope she’s also missing me. In my wildest fantasy, I imagine her showing up tonight to share a bed.

  “Do you think Bev could give me some ideas about decorating the place I’m staying at?”

  “Sure. She’s got an eye for design.”

  My sister’s proudest moment was having her company’s staging of a house showcased—in a thirty-second flash—on an episode of House Hunters three years ago. I remember how every person I ran into around Rawlins asked if I’d heard about Bev.

  “I’m renting a place, and the landlord said I could fix it up however I like. My girlfriend has very specific tastes, and you know I’m no good at that stuff.”

  “I’ll ask Bev to give you a call,” Mom says, and I sense she wants to get off the phone. “So, I hadn’t heard any news about you dating. Who is this girl?”

  Ah, I see. Mom just wanted to get the Bev stuff out of the way so she could get to the gossip.

  Picking my words very carefully, I describe Yarrow—beautiful, close to her family, strong, loyal, loves kids. By the time I finish, Mom wants us over for dinner.

  WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?

  “I don’t know,” I mumble like a stupid kid. “She’s shy.”

  “Oh.”

  I hear the hurt in her voice as if I’ve offered her a taste of my affections only to yank them away.

  “I’ll talk to Yarrow and let you know,” I say with too much enthusiasm like a very fucking stupid kid. “It’s the holiday season after all.”

  “Your father would enjoy having another man around the house. He says Rick is too much of a lady.”

  I laugh at her description of my brother-in-law. My dad is a dull man in every way, but he’s a man’s man. Sports, regular beer, woodworking are what makes him happy. Rick, on the other hand, is apparently a wannabe Frasier Crane.

  By the time I hang up the phone, the townhome doesn’t feel so gloomy, though I still miss Yarrow. I want her to know she inspired me to talk to my mother. Not because she’d jump for joy at the news, but because nothing feels right without Yarrow at my side.

  ➸ Yarrow☆

  Ginger and I rest on her bed, facing each other. I don’t know what she wants to talk about. She needs to relax, or else her tension will spread through the house. I hate feeling anxious, so I remain with her until she finally asks a question.

  “Besides sex, what did you do with Blackjack?”

  “He told me about his family. His mom knits, and his dad sells insurance. They live in a one-level brick house and have a big dog named Pete. I think he both doesn’t like them and also misses them.”

  “Family is complicated.”

  “How come?”

  “You can’t pick your family. People with nothing in common are connected through blood and marriage, not by choice.”

  “Do you worry your kids will not like you?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “I do.”

  “You’re not ready for kids,” Ginger says, immediately irritating me.

  “Neither are you.”

  “I’m more ready than you.”

  “Barely. You let the kids eat crap, and you let me have cake for every meal until Cayenne
said I should eat other stuff.”

  Ginger rolls her eyes. “It was more important that you ate than what you ate.”

  “I know, and I like cake.”

  “Especially with chocolate frosting. You were so cute.”

  Studying her face, I ask, “Do you miss when I was younger, and you could push me around more?”

  “Push you around?”

  “Make me do what you wanted.”

  “Did it seem like I was pushing you around?” she asks, looking hurt by the idea.

  “Yeah. You made me wear clothes and eat green shit.”

  “That’s part of being a parent.”

  “The crappy part.”

  “It’s not all hugs and smiles.”

  “One day, Alani and Makoa will have sex. Will you act this weird?”

  Ginger considers my question. “I don’t know, but probably not.”

  “Because you like them more?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because they grew up healthy and loved and had a normal childhood. When they want to have sex, I’ll know they weren’t conned or pressured. I’ll be sure they understand the consequences.”

  “We used condoms. Ribbed for my pleasure.”

  “That’s sweet, but there’s more to sex than diseases and pregnancy. There’s giving yourself to someone who doesn’t feel the same as you, and then that someone discards you. Fucking has painful emotional consequences too.”

  “You mean like I’ll cry and feel sad?”

  “Yes.”

  Resting on my back, I notice the walk-in closet seems darker than usual. “I’m not afraid to cry and feel sad. I did that when you dated Oz, and I was fine.”

  “I hated seeing you sad then, and I don’t want to see you upset again.”

  “But what happens when you have kids, and Pepper and Bay’s baby is born, and then Clove has a kid, and then Cayenne finds a man because you know she’s horny. Everyone has men and babies, but I won’t have anything or anyone. Won’t I be sad then?”

  “So you’re grabbing onto Blackjack to make a family because you don’t want to be left out?”

 

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