by Dahlia West
“Hot, cold, hot, cold. You’re definitely tough, Ava, but not in the way you think you are.” He tugged on her arm and pulled her closer. Between their bikes, his face was just inches from hers. “What if I don’t let you run this time?”
This close to him, the heat of his hand over hers, Ava knew she couldn’t really resist. Selfish as it was, Clint and the specter of the Buzzards fell away and Emilio became the only thing that filled her senses.
Dirt, darkness, leather, and heat swirled around them. All Ava wanted was to be dirty with him, just forget for a little while. She wanted this pumping rush, this swirling feeling to last just a little bit longer.
She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his. While her tongue explored his hot mouth, her fingers searched his hand and located the keys to her bike. He didn’t let go of them, though.
Ava pulled back, just a bit, breathing harder. “I’m not going to run,” she told him.
His lips barely touched hers again. “You sure?”
She slid her finger through the metal key ring and held on firmly. “No,” she replied and held his gaze with hers. “It’s time to go for a ride.
Chapter Sixteen
The world fell away, exactly as Ava had wanted it to. As they raced down the highway, she gunned her Honda’s engine and pulled ahead of him slightly. It was just a tease, though, since they were going to his place and she had no idea where that was.
Determined to take the lead, Emilio responded, surging forward on his Interceptor, giving her a run for her money.
It was late and traffic was almost non-existent. Darkness surrounded them, stars glittered above them. As much as she was looking forward to falling into his bed, Ava had to admit that she wouldn’t mind just riding forever. Just her, Emilio, and the canyons lit by the night sky.
She’d made a lot of mistakes, especially lately, but this wouldn’t be one of them. She’d get what she was after and then she’d split. Tonight would be a memory she could hold onto for a long, long time. Maybe forever.
She shook her dark thoughts away and slid around him again. She couldn’t see his face, but she could see his hands tightening on the grips of his bike. Soon they’d be wrapped around her. She could barely wait.
As they barreled down the highway, the lights of the city warred with the stars overhead, civilization finally won out. The darkness gave way to streetlights, the canyons were replaced by buildings, pinning them in.
She gave up the competition and settled in behind him as he led her through the winding streets of sleeping neighborhoods. Emilio turned into the driveway of a small, blue house with white shutters. He killed the engine of his Interceptor. Ava pulled the keys out of her own ignition.
When she pulled off her helmet, she looked around for a moment. Next door, a Harley was parked in the driveway, next to a car. The neighborhood was a bit nicer than her own, but not by a lot. Honestly, she was a little relieved.
“This is your place?” she asked as she swung her leg down onto the concrete.
The house was small but nice. She was impressed that he could afford it, being so young. She’d never given much thought to moving out of her parents’ house. Pop needed her and that was that. To wish for freedom was akin to wishing her father to die. Ava fiercely resisted it.
Emilio shrugged as he headed to the front door. “Hawk and his wife used to live here. You know,” he said, grinning, “the big guy whose ass you said you’d kick? Anyway, she’s pregnant again, and they needed a bigger place. He owns the house. He gives me a break on rent.” As he slid his key in the lock, he jerked his head toward the house next door. “Easy and Daisy live next door,” he told her.
Ava followed his gaze. The house was dark. “So, you’re like your own family,” she mused.
“Pretty much.”
Before she stepped inside, she hesitated, glancing back at the house next door. She frowned. “So, um, if I scream your name—”
Emilio cut her off. He grabbed her by the waist and yanked her into the house. The door slammed shut behind him, nearly shaking the small house. He pressed her back against the door, leaning into her. “Not if, muñeca. When,” he growled.
Ava threaded her fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and yanked him toward her. As his mouth came down over hers, his already-erect cock pressed into her belly.
She forgot all about the neighbors and what they might think.
Emilio slid his hands down her hips, gripped her thighs and pulled her up higher.
She wrapped her legs around his waist as he ground into her. He felt so damn good, pressed up against her. He was bigger than Clint—in every possible way, she was discovering—and held her easily.
His tongue dipped into her mouth and teased her own.
Ava was dizzy, panting, and on fire already. “We gonna make it to the bed?” she asked him quietly.
He pulled back and grinned at her.
Ava’s core melted. That mouth was too much. An image flashed in her mind of him using it on her, but she shook it away. She’d never done that. She wasn’t sure she could handle it now.
“My baby wants the bed, then we do it in the bed,” he declared.
He shifted her weight and turned, carrying her with him. They made it down the hall, to the bedroom, with his cock teasing her the entire time. Ava didn’t need to see it to know it was big... and ready for anything.
In the room, she slid down his long, lean body and planted her feet on the carpet. Her hands ran over his chest, his stomach, all that hard muscle practically quivering beneath her palms. She was glad he was just as excited as she was.
It didn’t feel like she was just another fling to him, even though she’d promised herself that’s all it would be, all it could be. It felt real enough, right here, right now. And that was enough for her.
Ava lifted his shirt over his head. In the dim light, she ran her hands over his smooth, tight skin. “Pure as the driven snow,” she murmured, commenting on his lack of tats.
He laughed. “I’m a little darker than that, muñeca. And I’m anything but pure.”
Ignoring his innuendo, she looked up at him. “You never thought about ink?”
He shrugged. “Can’t say I really have. But then, I never had a reason to get one.” His fingers danced along her bare arm, tracing her black, red, and gray, lines. His eyes rose and caught her gaze. “I want to see the rest of you,” he demanded.
“Why?”
He leveled his gaze at her, suddenly deadly serious. “I want to make sure there are no names that shouldn’t be there.”
She smirked at him (and secretly enjoyed the idea he might be jealous). “Ink is permanent. I’d never do some shit like that.”
“You can have them removed,” he pointed out.
She shook her head. “We don’t do that in my family. Mistakes are forever.”
“You make a lot of bad ones?” he asked.
She hesitated, musing about how much to say. She couldn’t blame him for asking. The thought of him with a long line of bunnies didn’t exactly sit well with her, either. He had a right to ask, even if Ava didn’t want to know about his past. She shrugged. “A few,” she admitted. “Not many.”
He nodded and pulled her down to him. His lips pressed against hers. “I won’t be another one,” he told her.
“I know,” she replied, as she lifted his chin and brushed her lips over his exposed throat. “I don’t have any expectations. So how can you disappoint me?”
Suddenly, he grabbed her hips and tugged. Her pussy grazed his hard-on. “No expectations?” he growled. “None at all?”
Unintimidated, or at least unwilling to show it, she put her hands on his chest and shoved him down to the mattress. “Well, okay,” she teased, “I expect that to be good. I have a feeling it will be.”
She put her palms on his chest and pushed. Despite his relative size, he complied. He lay back, head on his pillow. “Gonna show me now?” he asked darkly.
&nbs
He expected it, though, clearly. What the hell? she thought, peeling off her jacket and letting it hit the floor. Her tits may have been on the small side, but she had ink to make up for it. Ink she was proud of.
He gazed at her under heavy lids as she kicked off her boots and then shimmied out of her jeans and panties. Just like she was barreling toward the finish line, she yanked up her own shirt and pulled it off over her head. Emilio’s eyes only skipped over her tats, zeroing in on her tits as she plucked the clasp on her bra.
He didn’t look disappointed in any way as she dropped the last of her clothing. In fact, he looked hungry. Hungry for her.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
Ava was surprised, hesitated, but slowly complied. When her back was to him, she glanced over her shoulder at him. His eyes were on her ass. Finally, he dragged them back up to her eyes.
“Just checking,” he told her.
She snorted and faced him again.
He liked looking at her. And she was glad for it. Her confidence soared and she was glad she’d decided to follow him home. He took another few seconds, enjoying the view. Ava wondered what it would feel like when his hands replaced his gaze. It seemed like it nearly tortured him to turn away, but he finally did.
Ava watched as he snatched open the nightstand drawer, fumbled a bit, then came up with a condom. She hid her own disappointment. A quick fuck, in and out, just like the others. She probably wouldn’t come this time, either.
She was half-tempted to call it off, grab her shit and leave. This was not quite the farewell performance she’d been envisioning. But he surprised her by tossing the rubber aside. It hit the mattress and, just like that, Emilio’s eyes were back on her.
“We have a problem, muñeca,” he told her.
Ava’s belly fluttered. “What’s that?” she replied, managing to hold her voice steady.
He grinned again. “Only one of us is naked.”
She laughed, relieved, and grabbed one of his boots. “Bet I can fix that,” she told him. She tossed his boots somewhere across the room and then crawled up over him to get to his zipper.
Surprisingly, Emilio didn’t help her at all. The others had fumbled at their flies, just desperate to get inside. She could tell by the bulge in his pants that Emilio was just as desperate, but he was holding off, enjoying the moment.
She loved him for that.
Slowly, she tugged the zipper, each tooth catching and then popping open. She looked up at him, smiling. “I think we have another problem,” she told him. “A really big problem.”
He frowned. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
Ava opened his fly and ran a finger over the waistband of his boxer briefs. Then she grabbed them and pulled. He hissed in surprise as his cock sprang out, fully erect, bouncing on his flat belly.
Ava was impressed. “A huge problem,” she observed.
He closed his eyes as she ran her hands along his hips. “My boss says problems are opportunities in disguise.”
“Does he now?” Ava purred. She rubbed everywhere but the sweet spot— his abs, his chest, his shoulders, his arms. You might have been right, Chris Sullivan. Ava wasn’t about to waste this opportunity. Her life might be shit right now, but this didn’t have to be. This could be good, for however long it lasted. “Does the boss-man always know best?”
“He gives good advice, yeah.”
“Like what?” Ava asked, intrigued.
Emilio caught her gaze with his own. “He says anything worth doing... is worth doing well.”
She shivered at his words.
“You gotta take your time,” he told her. “Do the job right. You gotta go over every nook, every cranny, get your hands on every part. It’s gotta purr like a kitten by the time you’re through.”
“It?”
“The bike,” he said with a sly grin.
Ava glared at him and ran her fingernails down his torso.
“Ay, woman!” he cried as he grabbed her hands before she went any lower.
She giggled at him, though, because she hadn’t really hurt him, only surprised him. He was cute when he was at her mercy. It didn’t last long, though.
Emilio took her hand and pressed it to his shaft, curling her fingers around it. He was back on top again, even though he was technically on the bottom. Under his direction, she stroked him slowly, base to tip. Even in the moonlight, it looked primed, ready, restrained.
She plucked the condom from the mattress, tore it open, and grabbed his cock with her free hand. It jerked in her palm. It was large. Possibly the biggest she’d had. She’d never really gotten a good look at the guy in the back seat.
She pressed the reservoir to the head and rolled it on carefully. When she finished, she looked up at him and smiled wickedly. “What do you think, cabrón? Another race to the finish?”
He grinned at her, his lips full and red from kissing. “Nah, muñeca. I’m thinking slow and easy. And definitely more than once.”
“Too bad,” she replied, positioning herself over him. “If I finish first, I’m going home.”
She sank down on him hard. A little too hard, maybe. The familiar burn was more like a sharp pain. “Fuck!” she cried and bit her lip.
Emilio gasped. “Yeah, we’ll get there, baby, but damn, how long has it been?”
“Shut up,” she snapped and began riding him. She could take needles at the shop and nose-dives on the Honda. She could handle this.
“Ava.”
She ignored him and rocked on top of him and he gave up being concerned. His hands slid up her belly to her tits. He palmed them firmly and then pinched her nipples. It wasn’t hard, but it surprised her. No one had ever done anything like that to her before. The small bite of pain warred with the one down below and she forgot it altogether.
His hand slipped lower and found her soft curls. She took in a sharp breath, thinking he would pinch her there, too. She didn’t think she’d like that nearly as much.
As if he sensed her fear, he rubbed her mound gently. “Shhh, muñeca. Not like that. Like this.” The pads of his fingers found her clit and he pressed it.
Ava bucked hard, almost dislodging his cock from her channel.
“Easy,” he coaxed her as he swirled his fingers over her swollen button.
Ava had played with her own clit, dozens—maybe hundreds—of times, but it hadn’t occurred to her to do it while fucking. Perhaps that’s why she always had to finish herself after.
Emilio kept his fingers low, just barely grazing her. If she wanted that friction, and oh God she did, she had to shove herself down on him, impale herself on his thick shaft. It was more like fucking herself than fucking him, but the look on his face told her he didn’t seem to mind. His free hand gripped her ass and held her steady as she rode him. His fingers dug into her skin just a tiny bit, but she liked the feeling of being held.
Her pussy was wet and soaking them both. Every time she slid up on him, more seemed to flow from her stretched entrance. His fingers continued to dance over her flesh and she had trouble catching her breath.
She had no idea how he knew her body so well, considering he’d only just been introduced to it. But every touch elicited a heightened response that was better than anything Ava had achieved on her own, or with anyone else.
His thumb swirled— exhilarating, electrifying— sending her to new heights. She felt a wave rising up from low in her belly, spurred on by the thick shaft inside her. Her body was a jangle of warring sensations. Her pussy tightened just as it felt as though she, herself, were expanding— exploding— outward in every conceivable direction.
“Oh, fuck,” Emilio gasped. His fingers halted. His eyes closed.
Ava was too far gone to need the extra stimulation now. She came hard, on him, around him, for him, and from him. She gripped his chest, nails digging in slightly, as she panted. Her breath nearly matched his own.
Beneath her, she felt the throb and pulse of his orgasm. Not quite together, but so closely timed that it felt like an avalanche. One ecstatic moment the catalyst for the other. Inextricable. Inevitable.
She collapsed on top of him and he gripped her hard, arms sliding across her sweat-sheened back and holding her tightly against him. He was warm and hard, raw and wild.
Now that she’d had him, she only wanted more.
Any thoughts she’d entertained about leaving after the show were fuzzy, blurred, and far out of reach. Her body was liquid, quivering. Her energy was sapped, completely spent in one glorious moment, courtesy of the man lying underneath her.
Ava closed her eyes and settled against him. She couldn’t leave but didn’t want to, anyway.
Chapter Seventeen
Ava awoke and had to take a moment to think about where she was. The sound of Emilio breathing evenly beside her reminded her almost instantly. She’d had fuzzy dreams, of being warm, cocooned. When she realized he had one arm around her, it made sense.
It was nice here, in the quiet morning. She could hear birds outside the window, and someone cutting their lawn. She closed her eyes for a moment and listened. After a moment or two, she could feel herself almost drifting back to sleep. It was tempting, too tempting.
She shouldn’t have stayed at all.
Emilio was resting comfortably beside her. She held her breath as she shimmied out from underneath his arm, trying hard not to wake him. One, because he looked so peaceful. Two, because if he woke, that peace would be shattered when she had to tell him she was leaving. And not coming back.
Her clothes were scattered all over and she scooped them up quickly, stuffing them into her arms. She crept out of the bedroom door and eased it shut behind her. In the living room, she hurriedly threw on her pants and boots, glancing every few seconds toward the hallway.
She cast about for paper, a pen, something to leave him a note with. When she didn’t find anything, she thought perhaps that was best. What could she even say?
-->
