…I made others bleed for it too.
That’s how it is that I’m traipsing through the woods to one of my many hiding spots with a bag stuffed with half a million bucks: by being an empire builder.
Normally, I bank with Al Sims, up in Knoxville. Al’s been a go-to money man for guys in my line of work for decades. But, word has it that Al’s got eyes on him. FBI, DEA, you name it. And with that kind of pressure on him, and those kind of government agencies breathing down his neck? Well, needless to say, I ain’t opening up any new checking account at the bank of Al Sims.
I’ve got my money stashed all over the place, including at my bar which is also my base of operations, the Black Lung. But, it’s good to diversify. And that’s why I’m out here with a sack full of cash. There’s an old mining cabin up here that I’ve gone out of the way to hide and make look as broken down as possible. All so even if anyone does stumble across it, they’d never think to go looking for secret safes hidden in the old outhouse behind it.
It’s hot out. Summer in Kentucky can be a brutal, and this year’s no difference. I pause for a minute, sticking the pistol into the belt on my jeans and dropping the pack to take my shirt off. My muscles are slick with sweat as I shoulder the pack again, coiling as I move on further up the trail. I’m forty-four, but I’ve taken care of myself. I still run five miles every other day. I can still bench more than any of the guys in my crew, even the ones half my fuckin’ age.
Sweat trickles down my back as I keep hiking, and I’m just about to turn up the little side trail to the cabin that’s just on ahead, when I hear it.
I freeze.
The sound isn’t a nature sound. For second, I think it might be an animal or something, but no. There it is again, and it’s no animal.
It’s a person.
My body drops low, the gun back out and in my hand as I scan the trail ahead. I move forward slowly, creeping up, until I suddenly hear it again. And this time, when I hear it again, there’s no mistaking what I’m hearing.
…It’s a moan.
My eyes narrow, brow furrowing as I move up. There’s an old swimming hole up here — a small little wading pool made in the bend of an old creek. But I was pretty sure no one knew about this place. Hell, technically, it’s my fucking property for about ten acres in every direction. And I know damn well there are ‘no trespassing’ signs.
I grit my teeth, my hand curling tighter around the gun as I move towards the bushes near the creek. Whoever it is, they’re about to get told they’ve got four seconds to get the fuck off my—
It’s the shoes I see first. I frown. Pink and white and light blue. Women’s running shoes, specifically. And next to them, a balled up pair of white cotton running socks. I frown, my eyes scanning. Past them, it’s the teal tank top I see, and next to it, a white sports bra. My jaw twitches, my eyes narrowing. I spot the running shorts next, and there, lying on the ground next to them, a little black pair of thong panties.
The moan comes again, and this time, my cock responds.
Instantly. I crouch down, moving forward, not even sure what the fuck I’m about to walk into. But when I move closer, and push a branch aside, nothing can prepare me for what I lay eyes on.
She’s all curves and long legs. Tanned, smooth, supple young skin, with these sexy fucking tan lines in the shape of a bikini. But there ain’t no bikini there now. Just her, spread out on a flat rock next to the swimming hole.
Naked, panting, moaning, and writhing with her hands buried between her spread thighs.
…And I know her.
Taylor Bronson. The kid sister of those Bronson boys, Colton and Shepherd. For a second, with my eyes locked on what they’re locked on and my cock as hard as it is, a flash of fear jolts through me. But I quickly do the math in my head and breathe.
She’s eighteen. Barely. I know she’s off to college in the fall.
She’s eighteen. She’s fucking less than half my goddamn age, and I know I should walk the fuck away, or at least look away. But I can’t. Not a damn chance. My eyes are locked on her, my every sense tuned to her, drinking her in. She moans again, the sound so fucking sweet and so agonizingly sexy that my cock about tears a hole in my jeans.
This is obscene. This is wrong, even for a man like me. But fuck if I can pull my eyes away. They drag over every sweet inch of her, from those soft golden locks tumbling around her face, to those full, red lips, parted as she moans in pleasure. Her soft, pert little tits are arched to the sky, soft pink nipples hard and begging for a mouth to suck on them.
My balls twitch, and I can feel the hot precum pulsing out of the head of my thick cock and leaking into my boxers.
…I don’t even pretend to hold back anymore.
My belt is open and my zipper down in seconds, and when I reach in and wrap my hand around my aching hard cock, I grunt quietly. I pull my rock hard dick free of my jeans, grinding my jaw as I slowly pump my hand up and down, my eyes still locked on her. They drag lower over that smooth tummy, over the tan lines of her hips. Her thighs spread open even more, hips bucking against her hand as she pants in pleasure. Her hands move, and when I get a quick flash of that slick, glistening, shaved pink pussy, I almost come right there.
My balls tense, and I groan again as I stroke my cock faster, watching her. Fuck, she’s close. She’s arching her hips, pumping them against her fingers as she moans faster, and louder — stoking the fire inside of me hotter and fiercer.
And then, just like that, she’s coming.
She cries out, this soft, gorgeous, sexy broken cry of pleasure. Her whole body stiffens and then melts, her sweet thighs clamping together around her hands as she balls up, panting.
I blink, like the spell’s been broken just enough for me to take stock of what the hell I’m doing. I’m standing in the fucking bushes with my goddamn cock in my hand. I quickly shake my head, swearing quietly and gently putting my still-hard dick back in my jeans. I need to get the fuck out of here.
I turn, but when I spot her clothes, it’s like the spell hits me again. I grab those thong panties before I can even think it through, and then I’m off, moving quickly and quietly back up the trail to the little hidden cut-off to the cabin. It’s close, just around the corner, behind a bunch of tumbled boulders back when this area was mined for coal. And I make it all the way to the front door of the tiny little shack before I break.
Because all I can see is her. All I can hear is her moans. And all I want to do is taste every fucking inch of that tight little body until she’s squealing for more.
I groan as I lean my back against the door of the shack. My muscles clench, my blood roars like fire inside my ears as I yank my belt back open, tear my zipper down, and reach in to pull my cock out. I growl, those little black thong panties in my hand as I wrap it around my rock-hard cock.
I think of her.
It’s wrong. It’s filthy. It’s forbidden in so many ways. But that don’t stop me. I think of claiming her. Of making her fucking scream in pleasure as she rides my cock.
And I fucking stroke.
Chapter 4
Taylor
Five Years Ago
The orgasm explodes through me, leaving me panting, and glowing, and melting.
And if we’re being honest, it leaves me wanting more.
I lay there on the flat rock by the water trembling, letting the aftershocks and the heat from my climax tease through me before I slowly turn onto my back. I close my eyes, letting the heat of the summer sun through the trees overhead linger on my skin.
I discovered this little place on a run earlier in the summer, but then I lost it. It wasn’t on any map, and I know I’d run past a sign or two touting private property. But then, there’s hundreds of acres out here in Sugar County that are technically privately owned. But it’s not like I was out hunting or building anything. Just running and swimming. Today, I was determined to find it again, and after a few miles up and down old holler trails, I found it.
I wouldn’t normally be so wild as to do what I just did. But, there was something about the place. That and the fact that I could guarantee there wasn’t another soul around for miles upon miles. Maybe it was the heat of the day, or the blood pumping through my veins from the trail run. Maybe it was that I was about to go off to college soon, and I was feeling wild.
Whatever the reason, a nude swim turned into a lot more. The cold water teasing between my legs, the warm sweaty stickiness of the summer air. I was just going to lay out on the rock to dry, but it hadn’t taken long before my fingers found the heat that the run had started.
And then I just didn’t stop.
I blush a little, thinking how naughty it was to just… Well, to come like that. So out in the open, out in the middle of nature. But again, there’s no one around for miles.
I blink as I sit up, glancing around. Just the same, I should get going back home. There’s a going away dinner in celebration of me going off to college that my brother Colton’s been trying to put together for weeks that I probably shouldn’t miss. I slip around the pool to the far side, where I left my clothes. And I start to get dressed, when I pause, my brow furrowing.
Where the hell are my panties?
I frown, glancing around and checking in the bushes. I even glance in the water as if they may have fallen in there, but nothing. Well, shit.
I dress anyways, scowling at the lack of panties as I tie the laces on my shoes. Maybe I’ll just walk home. I get moving, heading back down the trail, when suddenly, I hear something, and I freeze.
What the fuck is that.
For one second, I wonder if it’s a bear, and fear shoots through me. I glance around, trying to remember any of the stuff Colton’s taught me about looking for signs of them—scratches on tree trunks, things like that. But I don’t see a thing. I hear it again, faintly, this rough, deep, almost grunting sound, and my brow knits.
That’s not a bear.
When I turn towards the sound, I see the little side trail I never would have spotted. It’s almost invisible, except you can see some crushed underbrush, like someone’s come through here recently. I bite my lip, knowing I should just keep going and get home, but something draws me.
I move down the trail, pulse racing. There's a huge pile of old boulders overgrown with trees, and I slip around that, moving towards the sound as I hear it again. Only this time, something sticks in me.
That really isn’t a bear.
It’s a human sound. Specifically, it’s the sound of a man.
It comes again, and as I slowly creep around the side of the wall of tree roots and boulders, and as I push aside a small branch, my eyes go wide.
Oh fuck.
I know him. It’s weird that that’s the first thought I have, given what my eyes land on, but it is. I know him.
Lawson Banner. Local crime lord. Gruff and wild and dangerous. A true outlaw. And he’s standing twenty feet away from me, slumped against the door to an old cabin, with his cock in his hand.
My breath catches, and my thighs suddenly tighten.
He’s shirtless—shirtless and muscled as all hell. Tattoo ink swirls over his bulging biceps, and his abs ripple as his sweat-slicked muscles clench. Another deep, masculine, and totally panty-meltingly sexy grunt comes from his lips, and my blood turns to fire in my veins as my eyes drop lower.
Fuck, that cock.
I’d had one boyfriend. One douchebag of a boyfriend that I ended things with before the school year was even over. And I can safely say, the few crappy times I was unfortunate enough to have to deal with his, well, that, it was nothing like what I’m looking at now.
Lawson Banner is huge.
He’s a big man. Well over six feet, and made out of pure muscle. But apparently, big everywhere else means big there, because the thick, throbbing, pulsing, fat cock in his fist is bigger than I could even imagine a cock being.
He groans again as his hand slides up and down it, the head swelling up thick and swollen, and I stifle a gasp as I watch thick white liquid beading at the tip before it trickles down his veined shaft. But slowly, as my eyes absolutely devour that big, thick tool, I see something else.
Something else in his hand.
Something wrapped around his cock.
Something black.
…My panties.
“Fuck, Taylor.”
I almost shriek before I realize he’s not talking to me. My eyes fly to his face, but his eyes are still closed. And besides that, I know I’m hidden.
“Play with that tight little pussy for me, baby girl.”
The words grunt so crudely and so fucking filthy from his mouth.
…And it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Spread that little cunt wide for me. Spread your legs wide and let me fuck that hot little pussy with my big cock.”
I bury the moan in the crook of my arm as the raw heat of his words blast over me.
…He’s got my panties around his cock, and he’s growling my name as he strokes himself off.
The reality that this means he saw me — that he was close enough to me naked on that rock to take my panties — sets the fire inside of me blazing. I move without thinking. My hand slides into my shorts before I can tell myself not to. Before I can second guess this and tell myself to run not walk back home. But when my fingers slide through my slick, sticky, eager pussy lips, and as I hear my name grunted from his rough mouth again, I know I’m lost.
His gorgeous body tightens, muscles clenching and tattoo ink rippling as he growls and stokes that huge cock. He groans my name again, and I’m barely able to stop from crying out as my fingers rub my wet pussy faster and faster, making wet, squelching sounds and soaking my running shorts. I roll my clit under my fingers, and I know I’m close.
I just came, but I’m about to again, and hard. Because watching him is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and there’s no turning back. It’s so wrong. He’s so wrong. I mean he’s a crime boss for crying out loud. The man is dangerous. A killer, even. And even if he wasn’t those things, he’s more than freaking twice my age.
But maybe it’s because of those things that I can’t stop. Maybe it’s all of the wrongness of this that makes me just want more.
I sag against the tree at my back, biting my lip hard to stop from crying out as my fingers make a slippery mess of my pussy. I’m so close and I’m almost scared of how hard I know I’m going to come, when suddenly, Lawson groans loudly.
“Fuck, baby girl. Ride that fat cock, Taylor. Bounce that pretty pussy on my cock and take my cum. Take my cum deep in that little fucking cunt, baby girl.”
He growls, and my eyes go wide as I watch that huge cock of is swell up. Suddenly, thick white ropes of cum spurt from the swollen head, arching through the air to land on the ground in splatters.
…And it’s the last thing I can take.
I stifle the cry of pleasure with a hand over my mouth as the other one grinds between my legs. My thighs clamp tight, my finger rolls over my clit, and the climax hits me like a ton of bricks. I bite my hand hard enough to leave marks as wave after wave crashes over me, my whole body shuddering in pleasure.
I’m still shaking, still quietly sucking in air, as I watch Lawson groan and sink against the door at his back, his cock still tight in his hand.
…My panties soaked in his cum, and still wrapped around him.
I turn, heat blasting through me as I tiptoe as quietly away as I can. I get to the main trail, and I run.
…And every moment of that day has been in my memory. Ever. Since.
Constantly.
Chapter 5
Law
There’s a pounding in my ears, a tightness in my chest. It’s like I’m about to fucking combust into flames as I move right into her, looking down into those big blue eyes as she sits there tied to the chair in the middle of my empty bar.
It’s dark in here except the glow from the neon beer sign up on the wall, bathing us both in pink, teal,
and blue. I was just stepping out of the back room that serves as my office to get a cup of coffee from the bar when little miss FBI agent came barging in. The wreckage from our tussle litters the floor — broken glasses, a hole in the wall near the bar that my elbow made when she knocked me on my ass. The cup of coffee shattered and spilled across the hardwood floor.
But now here she is. Tied up, disarmed, restrained.
…Mine.
My mind shouldn’t be going here. I need to be concentrating on other things. Important business things. Like the fact that word has it that Mikey Sims over in Nashville has it in his head that he and his crew can muscle in on my territory. Word has it, he’s gunning for me. But, I’m not worried. I’ve had the threat of some asshole or another “coming for me” for goddamn decades. When you’re the king, they all want a piece of you. When you’re the apex predator, the jackals will come nipping for scraps.
But like I said, I ain’t thinking about that shit. I’m thinking about her and her only.
There’s an eagerness that roars through me. This raw hunger, a beast tearing at cage I’ve locked it up in deep inside of me. I’m about to get my hands on her. Finally. It’s always been there, for five fucking years. This burning need to claim. To have. To make mine. And now, she’s right here, and ready for me to pluck.
…I’m going to enjoy searching her for a damn hidden wire. Even if I’m mostly sure she’s not wearing one. Hell, if she was, backup already would’ve crashed in my door. On top of that, I’ve got eyes in the local Kentucky FBI office. Eyes that I pay well to let me know way ahead of time if anything’s about to come down on me. They haven’t said a thing, and I’m guessing that means little Taylor here is flying solo on this one. Taking matters into her own hands.
Out to prove something, maybe. Just like I’m about to prove to her that coming in here and coming at me like that is a great way to get your ass tied to chair. And in her case, it’s a great way to get your clothes torn off piece by fucking piece.
Breaking His Law: Sugar County Boys: Book 5 Page 2
