Swaying my hips I brush myself against her lips and feel her essence oozing out of her. Seems someone is a bit excited for this. I can’t blame her, I’m about to fuckin’ bust a nut if I don’t fuck her soon.
Fuck goin’ slow. I want her fast, heated and heavy. With my free hand I do what I’m doing with the alternate leg and keep her legs shoved back, giving myself enough room to pound into her cunt repeatedly. By the end of the night, she’ll barely be able to walk straight.
Without warnin’ I slam my cock inside of her pussy, feelin’ her walls tighten around me with every move. She moans, digging her nails into my comforter when I fill her cunt with my entire cock. I debate ramming myself inside her until I empty myself, but I want more from her. With everything she’s confessed, I know she’s got a lot of pent up shit, so I’ll make sure she releases all of it.
Hovering over her a bit more I align my left hand over her clit and continue to circle and tease it, making sure to keep her planted firmly in the same position as she tries to squirm away. I smirk at the way her bud grows harder, knowing she’s close to doing exactly what I want.
I slam my hand down onto her clit out of nowhere and shove my cock in and out of her like she’s some chick from a fuckin’ porno. “Oooo!” she moans, raising her hips up to me a bit more, beggin’ me for more.
“Tell me what you want, Izzy. I wanna hear it!” I growl out, barely grazing my fingers over her clit again.
“Make me come, please Cobra. P-please.”
I can’t help but cackle, pounding my cock in her so hard the frame of the bed is rattlin’ the fuckin’ walls. Her moans grow louder at the same time her pussy starts producing that lovely essence. It comes out slow, but with intensifying my speed she’s squirting around my cock. With as much as she thrashes and squirms I won’t allow her to stop. I keep goin’ like a fuckin’ rabbit until she starts slowin’ down.
I think about unleashin’ my load in her pussy, but I figure I’ll have plenty of opportunity. Plus, I want her to taste every bit of pleasure I just made her feel. I pull myself from her cunt, release her legs and inch up the bed until I have a strong grip on the back of her hair and shove myself into her mouth.
Within a matter of minutes my load is shooting down her throat and I remove my shaft from her throat. I plop down on the bed next to her, returning my hand to her clit and continue to taunt her. “Oh Jesus,”
“No, babycakes. I’m Cobra, and I hope you’re getting warmed up. We’re gonna turn my bedroom into a fuckin’ slip and slide.”
Chapter Eighteen
I don’t want a relationship, I want consistently good sex and good conversation, someone to take the edge off life, nothing serious and no pressure.
~ Kush and Wizdom
Izzy
I wake up to a pair of arms wrapped snugly around my torso and turn my neck to the right, seeing Cobra fast asleep. I’m careful in my movements, not trying to wake him up and slowly pick up his arm and place it on his side. He rolls to the right, ending up giving me enough room to slide out of bed without stepping on him.
I toss my legs over the side and scan the area for my clothes. For the most part I remember removing them in the same area, but the bastard ripped my panties off like a starved beast and who knows what he did with them. I look everywhere around his bedroom but can’t find them, so I go commando and slide on my shorts, put my bra on and slide a thin layer of deodorant from the emergency stick I have in my purse under my armpits and put on my shirt. Picking up my shoes I go to his door and am careful with how quietly I open it, doing the walk of shame in the sluttiest way I ever have. Honestly, I’ve never had to sneak past roommates or anything like it so this one’s a first.
I’ll be the first to admit last night I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, but to say I’m pleasantly surprised is an understatement. This trailer is designed so well. Honestly, I never thought they could look this good. The floors aren’t that ugly linoleum, but some sort of decent laminate or hardwood. The kitchen even has a gas range and stone counters, but that’s not what catches my eye. I focus right in on the monthly white board they have on the refrigerator with a marker and smirk, knowing exactly what I’m about to do.
Approaching the white board, I pick up the marker on the side and write out my name under the notes section, putting down my number below it. Gosh, I feel like a giddy schoolgirl doing this wearing such a devious smirk. When I finish writing my number down, I put the marker back and turn around, catching Cobra shirtless, leaning against the entryway of the hallway.
“I see what you’re tryina’ do.” He snickers, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“I’m not trying to do anything.” I shoot back, walking to the edge of the kitchen with my heels in hand.
Cobra chuckles lightly, “You sure as hell look like you’re tryina’ sneak out of here and have me text you later, babycakes.”
“I’m afraid to disappoint you but I don’t have any reason to sneak out of here. While we might’ve been a little tipsy last night, you laid the ground rules of what this is. I knowingly accepted, so why do you think I’m such a chicken?” I ask, crossing my arms in response.
“I didn’t call you a chicken.”
“You implied I was one, and immature as fuck in the process.”
“I did not,” Cobra snaps back.
I roll my eyes, place my heels on the floor and slide my feet into them, digging my right hand into my purse to grab my car keys. “You seem to be getting awfully feisty for someone who didn’t do something.” This time I’m the one snickering, possibly enjoying fucking with him just a teeny bit.
Cobra realizes the game I’m playing and chuckles, slapping his hands together. “I see what you’re doin’, babycakes. I don’t usually like it when girls fuck with me.”
“But you enjoy it when I do,” I say for him, not getting one verbal confirmation. I’m not a fool, so I can read between the lines.
“I might,” He teases, causing me to smile brightly. “So, when will I see you again?”
“Maybe next weekend.”
“Maybe? And you’re gonna make me wait another week to see your beautiful face?”
“I’m very focused when it comes to my career, Cobra. It’s the most important thing in my life. I just started at a new station and I’m keeping most of my nights during the week busy with the organization I founded.”
He nods, “I will never step in the way of a determined woman. Text me when you want me and I’ll be there as long as somethin’ isn’t goin’ on with the club.”
I barely know anything about this lifestyle, so I feel the need to inquire a bit. “What do you mean by that?”
“I don’t think you’re ready for the answers I’ll give you.” He says, making me think there are some dark depths to the life they all live.
“If I wasn’t ready I wouldn’t have asked.” I affirm, standing my ground. I lean to the right, popping my hip out a bit. It’s the signature sassy bitch move.
Cobra moves from the hallway to the side of the couch and takes a seat, “If you really wanna know you should sit your ass down. Shit’s about to get real.”
Drawing my brows together I take the seat beside him and wait for Cobra to talk, but moments of awkward silence pass us by. “I don’t know anything about your lifestyle besides the fact you all ride motorcycles, live on a compound type of thing and have ranks in your club. Everything is foreign to me, but I’d like you to explain if you’re willing.”
“I am, just didn’t think we’d be having this conversation for quite a while, if at all. Hell, thought you’d be running for the hills before I felt the need to explain shit to you, babycakes.” I don’t respond to what he’s just said, however it does make me feel a certain way and not in a good one. It’s almost as if Cobra thinks I’m this prim and proper woman. While I do appear to be a certain way because of my job, I think my hair is a dead giveaway that I’m open minded as hell. Not to mention, I’ve been through a world
of shit. I just don’t talk about it.
“I’ve been through some pretty heavy shit in my life, Cobra. I doubt whatever you say will phase me.” I confess, not telling him how most of my experiences have to do with my father leaving my mother and I when I was eight. I don’t just have typical daddy issues. Mine are a tad more fucked up to say the least. I didn’t know it when I was younger, but my father was my mother’s biggest competitor in the oil industry. He wowed and dazzled her to the point of marrying her only to have me and begin the process of his diabolical plan, stealing her clients bit by bit until he gained the capital to start a new company which somehow seemed much more eco-friendly, filed for divorce and started a new family.
I was eight when I saw my family torn apart through the courts, clawing at me like I was some sort of golden prize. I was fourteen when I discovered my creation . . . my life was nothing more than a way to stick it to the woman who held the most power over him. I was seventeen when I decided I no longer needed people in my life who couldn’t respect me and at twenty-one I made the decision to move to Las Vegas and make a name for myself, escaping the shadows of my mother and father.
“If you say so. Hell, I’ll dive into it. The club is a form of brotherhood. Many of us have our own families sure, but we connect over something special here— our love for the club. With that bein’ said I refuse to lie to you and say we follow every rule in the book. We don’t. Fuck, we’re breakin’ a lot of rules most of the time. We have enemies and we deal in illegal shit every day. Fuck, one of our enemies took a child. We’re workin’ on getting him back right now.”
My eyes go wide at what Cobra’s just said. “Someone kidnapped a child? Have you called the police?!”
Cobra shakes his head, “Babycakes, it doesn’t work like that. We don’t play by the rules and they don’t either.”
I don’t know what to say. It baffles my mind that someone would be so cruel as to take out their issues with someone on a child . . . even if they are warranted, which I’m not sure they are. Cobra grabs ahold of my hand and looks at me intently, “This is the part where I should tell you being associated with me regardless of our relationship or lack thereof puts you at risk. However, at the same time you have an army behind you.”
“Wait. Are you saying that if we sleep together I’m in danger?” If that’s the case . . . I don’t know how to feel about our arrangement.
“I’m not saying that per say, but you could be.”
“Oh, I . . . need a bit to think about this.” I confess, immediately standing up and head toward the door.
Cobra starts to speak just as I place my hand on the doorknob, “Izzy, you’re going to be at risk regardless. It doesn’t matter if it’s me or Raven, and I doubt you’re going to leave the friendship you’re trying to rebuild . . . even if it’s obvious you still love her.”
Shutting my eyes I suck in a breath and pull my keys out of my purse, open the door and head to my car. I need some space right now and I sure as hell need to think about what I’m signing up for.
Chapter Nineteen
I’m a recovering perfectionist and an aspiring “good-enoughist”
~ Brene Brown
Izzy
I went straight back to my apartment after leaving Cobra’s house. Around lunch time I left to go to the small Mexican joint around the corner and got a delicious burrito bowl, brought it back and binge watched some old episodes of The Vampire Diaries. I couldn’t help it I needed some good hard doses of the hot Salvatore brothers.
Damon has to be my favorite, though. He’s sinfully scrumptious, tall, dark and dangerous, not to mention decadent. Now that I’m thinking about it . . . he reminds me of Cobra in a lot of ways.
I crack open a bottle of red wine and nurse it at the kitchen island when I hear the deadbolt turning and know exactly who it is, the one person I need to have a deep conversation with. There’s too much animosity flowing through me from the last couple chats we’ve had, mainly fueled by not talking and having assumptions.
Travis walks in through the door and when his eyes land on me he tries to act like he hasn’t seen me. To say we haven’t been on the same page recently is a drastic understatement. “Can we stop the avoiding one another bullshit? I’m exhausted, Trav. So tired of this odd animosity between the two of us. Obviously, you feel a certain way about what you think you know . . . but you don’t know what happened and I think it’s time I tell you what transpired the night of the interview.”
Travis rolls his eyes and walks up to the island, “Sweetie, I think we already know what happened and you don’t need to explain it. I’ve heard this same sad song far too many times.”
Unable to bite my tongue I lash out at my friend, “I love you Trav, but you’re being the biggest asshole in the world. Would you just shut the fuck up and listen? You seem to believe you know everything and you don’t. You don’t even know the fucking half of it and let me just say I’m livid. If anyone, I thought you’d give me the benefit of the doubt . . . not mark me with some scarlet letter shit.”
Travis takes a seat across from me, leaning his muscular arms over the counter and looks right at me. His muscles protrude out of his shirt, showing me he’s really been hitting it heavy at the gym. “Fine, you think I don’t know something, so spill your guts.” His espresso colored eyes incinerate right through me and I can tell he still thinks I’m lying to him. I can only hope by the end of the conversation there will be an apology for his assumptions and our friendship will be back on track.
“I’ll keep this short and sweet for you. Leonardo offered me the job before the interview and we both signed the contract. Well, he came here and conducted the interview but after the cameras were off and put away he made damn sure to make it abundantly clear if I didn’t sleep with him he’d rip the contract up, kill the footage and act like he never offered me the job in the first place. I felt trapped . . . like the only option I had was to give him what he wanted, because if I didn’t . . . everything in this house would’ve been tossed around. I’d have to move out and you wouldn’t be able to send money back home to your family. I’d end up going back to Montana and relying on my mother’s money which you know I never want to do. I’ve created a name for myself outside of her shadow and I want to keep it. I’d lose my self-identity, my independence and worst of all . . . my confidence.”
“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me right now or not. Honey, I’ve been around the block a few times and there’s always a pretty girl just like you who sleeps with their boss and says it wasn’t what they wanted. Are you being for real when you’re saying this to me, or are you saying it to convince yourself?”
For a split second I’m baffled by what Travis has said . . . but I do understand. I’m sure women have done things like this to him in the past, where their situation was similar to mine but not quite the same. I grab Travis’ hand and stare into those coffee bean colored eyes of his, needing him to see I’m not fucking with him in any way. “Trav, I’m not fucking with you. You know I don’t have any problem admitting when I want some sex, but this was different. It made me feel . . . disgusting. The entire time I was stoic, regretting my decision but in the back of my mind I knew I needed to . . . because no one would believe me if I came out and told the world about this.”
Raising his brows, he cranes his neck to the side. “You might be Izzy to me honey, but you’re Elizabeth Ashers. Your name means something.”
“Trav, that’s not the worst of it. He’s done this to every other female anchor he’s put on the air.”
Travis grabs the wine bottle in front of me and takes a swig back, “This may be a dumb question, but has he put any men on the air?”
I think about what Travis has just asked and realize Leonardo has only ever put women on the air . . . it was believed Leonardo was a man ahead of the times, putting women into powerful positions, but now I know the truth. While the public saw a man who respected women and gave them the jobs they deserved, he was pressuri
ng them to open their legs for him to get it. What a mindfuck. Not to mention, what a classless piece of shit he truly is. If I have any say, who Leonardo really is will get out somehow and the public will know the truth. “No, he hasn’t.”
Travis gives a curt nod, putting the pieces together in his mind. “I’m sorry I acted like I knew shit. In my experiences though, with women who want to be friends with me because of my sexual orientation . . . well, they’ve pulled this card before. I’m so sorry I piled you in with the fake bitches.”
I wrap my arms around the man who’s my closest friend in Las Vegas and hug him, “It’s okay. I was being a little bitchy and honestly . . . I should’ve told you sooner. I just didn’t know how and I’m so sorry for that.”
“All is forgiven. You’re still my favorite sexy bitch.”
“I love you!” I say, giggling as I leave him be.
“Now, I didn’t miss the fact you weren’t home last night. Did Leonardo make you sleep with him again, or were you out having some fun?” Travis questions.
A devious smirk crosses my face and I get warm, tingly butterflies shooting through my stomach. “No, I went to go see Raven, remember? But, I met this guy when I was there and—”
Travis cuts me off completely, “Oh sweetheart, you’d better start from the beginning and tell me every single dirty detail. If anything’s certain, you got some nice action last night.”
My only response is a giggle before I give him a play-by-play of my entire evening.
Chapter Twenty
Before she became the fire, she was water. Quenching the thirst of every dying creature. She gave and she gave until she turned from sea to desert. But instead of dying in the heat, the sadness, the heartache, she took all of her pain and from her own ashes became fire.
Chaos: A Reapers MC Boxset Page 52
