Hearts of Winter (Bleeding Angels MC Book 2)

by Stephens, Olivia

  I reach up to him, holding his face between my hands. “Every time with you is perfect,” I assure him. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me,” I remind him. “Come here.” I guide his hands back to the knot behind my neck.

  After a few seconds I feel the top go slack as the knot comes undone. “Thanks for the pep talk.” He smiles wryly as he kisses my neck and pushes my top down, leaving my breasts exposed. I remember how Crystal had lamented over my lack of cleavage, but then found the silver lining that going without a bra was, in her words “seriously hot.” “What?” Jake asks, looking at me curiously as I realize I’ve chuckled out loud.

  “Nothing, nothing.” I shake my head, not wanting to break the mood. I gasp as the cold air meets my skin and then Jake’s warm hand is there, covering one breast and then the other. I moan into his mouth as he kisses me, rolling one nipple and then the other between his thumb and forefinger, making them harden under his hands.

  I massage my fingers into his hair as Jake breaks away from my kiss and smiles a smile full of intent as he ducks his head and takes one nipple and then the other in his mouth. I can barely breath as he licks and suckles them. He runs his tongue over the hard little points, making me wet between my legs. I’m mewling and breathing heavily, not able to control myself, only knowing that I need him—I need his mouth on me, all over me, desperately.

  I reach down between us, desperate to touch him, to feel his hardness in my hand. I rip open the buttons of his jeans and slip my hand inside, noticing with surprise and also with glee that he’s not wearing anything underneath. And God made commando and saw that it was good, I think to myself. I feel his shaft straining against the material of his jeans and I wriggle underneath him, trying to push his jeans down.

  Jake is just as needy as me. He pulls me up so I’m sitting upright and lifts my top up over my head, throwing it to the side. Then he goes to work on my skirt, pushing my chest down lightly until I’m lying down again so he can shimmy the denim down over my hips, leaving me in just a pair of black panties. I look up at Jake as he unbuttons his shirt and impatiently takes it off. At last I take hold of the waistband of his jeans and push them down, desperate to get them off of him so that we’re skin to skin, feeling each other completely.

  I cream myself at just the sight of Jake completely naked. His body does amazing things to me, and all I can think about is how much I want him inside of me. I must have been biting my bottom lip in anticipation without even realizing it because I see Jake get an intense look in his eyes. He dives on top of me and captures my bottom lip between his teeth, nipping me gently. Our eyes meet, and it’s one of the most erotic things I’ve ever experienced.

  He kisses a trail down, teasing my hard nipples as he goes, tracing patterns with his tongue over my stomach, around my belly button and making his way gently down to the triangle of hair between my legs. I’m breathing hard in anticipatio, but just as I feel myself about to lose control, Jake looks up at me.

  “This is still second base,” he informs me, nuzzling my pussy through my panties.

  I feel the heat of his breath against my skin and I grow even wetter.

  “And this,” he continues, “is third base,” he tells me as, in one smooth movement, he moves my panties to the side and tastes the wetness between my thighs.

  “Oh God,” I breathe in pleasure as I writhe underneath his tongue. He probes my wetness, testing, tasting, arousing. I reach down, taking hold of his hair. and pull gently until I hear him groan. We know each other’s sounds and bodies so well now, we can guess what the other wants before they even know.

  Jake looks up at me behind heavy-lidded eyes. “Touch yourself,” he instructs me. I blink at him in surprise. He senses my hesitation and takes hold of my hand that’s crushing the blanket underneath me and guides it towards the top of the curly mound between my legs. “Just let go,” he says softly. He doesn’t say anything else, but dives back into me, licking and twirling his tongue along the lips of my pussy, driving me insane as he does.

  I remember his words and do exactly that—I let go. I let my hand go wherever it wants. I move my hand down, down towards the heat that Jake has created between my thighs. Jake continues to lick and flick his tongue in and around my pussy, making me cry out. My hand starts to work in tandem with Jake and I feel my wetness between my hands as I work my pussy and rub it, a thrill of pleasure crackling through me.

  My eyes are closed and I’m completely in the moment, touching myself, and I realize that Jake is looking down at me, watching me.

  “Don’t stop,” he says gently, the intensity in his eyes telling me how turned on he is. “You’re so sexy. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” I flick a glance down to his cock between his legs, which looks bigger than I’ve ever seen it and hard as a rock.

  “Jake,” I start to protest, but my voice is coming in short gasps as I feel myself moving closer and closer to the edge as my pleasure rises and rises.

  “I want to see you come, I want to see you touch yourself until you come.” Jake’s voice is husky and his eyes are so full of lust that any doubts in my mind completely disappear.

  “I’m close,” I tell him, almost chocking on my own desire.

  “I can see,” he rasps, dipping his head and taking a long loving lick between my legs. “Come for me Aimee, come hard.” He places his hand over mine as I work my pussy, rubbing my clit and swiveling my hips. I cry out as the wetness spurts between my fingers and Jake, keeps the pressure of his hands over mine, prolongs my orgasm until I feel like liquid as I ride the waves of my climax.

  I’m left shaking as the adrenaline floods my body. “Aimee,” Jake says softly, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

  I open my eyes wide and I’m sure that my mouth must be forming an “O,” but it’s not from surprise. I’m so turned on I feel like I might explode all over again. I nod quickly, eagerly, reaching between us to guide Jake inside of me.

  He breathes in deeply as I squeeze his shaft and a strangled noise escapes him. “Fuck, Aimee, if you do that I’m going to come any second,” he groans.

  I get that familiar feeling of power and control as I see how turned on Jake is because of me—because of the way we are together. I guide him towards my slit, swimming in my own wetness. He sinks into me, sliding slowly until he fills me up. Jake moves us so that we’re in a sitting position, with me on top of him. He gently pulls on my nipples with his teeth and I feel the heat between my thighs building and building.

  He supports me and places one hand underneath my butt, encouraging me to move up and down on his shaft. I start slowly, lifting myself along his cock until only the tip is left inside of me. Jake holds tight onto my hips and pulls me down on top of him. I take him inside of me inch by inch until he fills me again.

  Our bodies are slick with sweat as we move closer and closer to our peak. “That’s it, baby,” Jake says, his voice coming out between gritted teeth as he tries to keep himself in check.

  I’m bouncing up and down on his cock and he’s hitting all the right points in my pussy. Mewling and moaning, I feel shameless as I rock up and down on him. I pick up the rhythm, moving along his shaft faster and faster until I know that my climax is within reach.

  “You’re so wet baby, so wet and hot around my cock,” Jake groans, his voice coming in short gasps as he gets more and more overwhelmed.

  “Jake,” I moan, “Fuck, Jake.” I repeat the words, not able to come out with anything more coherent than that. “I want you to come with me,” I tell him, digging my nails into his shoulders.

  “I’m coming,” he growls as I move up and down his shaft faster and faster.

  “Jake!” I cry out, “Fuck me, fuck me!” I scream in pleasure as I come hard. Jake joins me and I feel him spurt and empty himself inside of me.

  Everywhere between the tops of my toes and my head is drowning in bliss. Reality starts to seep slowly back into my brain and I look down at Jake, both of us still a little d
azed. I’m sure my dozy smile is a reflection of his and the look that passes between us says more than any words could.

  “I love you,” I murmur, pressing my forehead against Jake’s.

  “I love you too, Aimee,” he replies, and he swipes a strand of hair off of my face so tenderly that I feel my heart expand even further.

  We stay like that for a while, listening to the silence of the night only broken by the sound of cicadas. I get that familiar feeling of not wanting him to ever come out of me. I want to stay like this, joined together, always. I feel whole when he’s inside me and like I’m closer to him that I am to anything else.

  “So that was a home run,” Jake says eventually, looking at me cheekily.

  “That’s not what’s supposed to happen on a first date, is it?” I ask innocently.

  “Only under very special circumstances,” Jake agrees, pausing to kiss the tops of my breasts. Automatically I feel my pussy clench at his touch. “Fuck, Aimee, how do you do that?” he asks, shaking his head.

  “Do what?” I ask naively.

  “Make me so ready for you again. Do you know how rare that is?” he asks, looking up at the sky. “I should be laid out on the ground flat on my back after coming as hard as I did,” he says, kissing my swollen mouth.

  “But?” I ask mischievously as I wriggle on top of him, rocking gently up and down as I feel his cock twitching and hardening inside me.

  “But all I can think about is how much I want to make love to you again,” he whispers against my lips.

  “Well, if that’s all you can think about,” I purr, “I always say that you should go with your instincts.”

  “You’re going to be the end of me, Miss Winters.” Jake manages to flip me over onto my back so he’s above me without breaking the contact between us.

  “And that’s a bad thing, Mr. Summers?” I coo, lifting my hips up to take him inside of me even deeper.

  “There are worst ways to go.” Jake shrugs before he leans down and goes back to work.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Thoughts of the night before with Jake spin around my head and stop me from being very productive at work the next day. It had been the perfect night, from the way that Crystal’s makeover had made me feel, to the location that Jake had chosen for our date, to the fact that he’d managed to gather together all my favorite foods—despite the fact that none of them go together—to the amazing sex we had under the night sky. But it doesn’t stop there. We also managed to keep to all of Jake’s ground rules. We didn’t mention the Angels once, nor did we talk about our fate at the end of the month. For one night at least, we managed to be a normal couple in love, just enjoying being together, enjoying each other. I can’t imagine a better date.

  “Yoo-hoo, Aimee, order up.” Big George waves a hand in front of my face to bring me back to the present.

  “Right, order, sorry,” I say quickly, grabbing the plate that has been sitting on the pass for too long.

  The diner is more or less dead, as is normal on the graveyard shift. There is only one customer there and I’ve still managed to deliver his order late. Good job, Aimee, I think to myself. Working those tips.

  When I head into the stockroom in the back to get some more of the mini packets of sugar, salt, and pepper, George comes up behind me and nearly scares the living daylights out of me.

  “What the hell, George?” I ask, jumping out of my skin and holding my hand to my chest as if that will stop my heart from beating out of it.

  “Easy, Aimee, easy,” he says calmly, talking to me as if I’m a horse that he’s just spooked.

  “Sorry,” I breathe in, trying to get my heart rate back to normal. “You just startled me is all.”

  “I noticed,” George replies, frowning. “What’s up with you? Something happen?” He jumps to the typical conclusion that any resident of Painted Rock would—that something bad has happened.

  “No, nothing.” I wave away his concern as I try to lift the massive box out of the store room and fail miserably.

  George ushers me out of the way and lifts the box as if it were light as a feather, carrying it through to the front of the diner. “So why are you all over the place tonight?” he asks, folding his arms as he watches me refilling the little metal bowls we use for the sachets.

  “Nothing, just daydreaming, I guess,” I say, and can’t help letting a smile escape me as I stack the sweetener in a neat pile.

  “Daydreaming, huh? About a certain young man?” Big George smiles knowingly and winks at me.

  “Maybe.” I smile back at him.

  “Well as long as you’re off your game for a good cause,” he says cheekily, heading back towards the kitchen, when the bell over the door tinkles and two men walk in.

  “Evening gents,” I say as I walk around the counter. “Let me show you to your seats.” I walk towards the second booth along and gesture for them to take a seat.

  The two men look between each other and they both shake their heads at me. The taller man points at the booth at the back that gives almost a 360 degree view of the diner and the street outside. “That one,” he says.

  “Sure thing,” I reply, frowning at the strange request. I take them to the seats, leave them their menus, and take a look at them from the safety of the counter.

  They’re dressed in the same style as most of the truckers that come through here. They’re both wearing baseball caps slung low on their heads. One has a beard and the other looks like he hasn’t had a shave in a while. They’re in loose T-shirts, and low-slung jeans, and heavy-toed Timberland boots. But there are a few things which don’t fit. Whereas most of the truckers that come through here are overweight and have that unwashed look about them, these two men are completely the opposite. Although their clothes are ill-fitting, they don’t conceal the fact that their bodies underneath are muscular. They look a little rumpled, like they’ve spent some time shut up in a car, but they don’t have that perpetual look of boredom that you see on a lot of the truckers’ faces.

  It doesn’t take long for me to put them together with the comment that George had made about the Feds the night before. It may be difficult to believe, but since yesterday afternoon I had been walking on a cloud and hadn’t even spared a thought for what might happen tonight. Under normal circumstances I would have planned for this moment down to the last detail, making sure that I got as much out of it as I could. But, instead, I’m kicking myself for having let myself be distracted from helping Jake by dating him.

  I slip into the kitchen, trying to keep my pace slow and not draw attention to myself. I know that I’m about as subtle as a hammer, so being under the radar takes all of my concentration.

  “I think they’re here,” I say to George without any preamble.

  He turns around from the grill and takes a look at me, taking in my expression of excitement and anticipation and then sticks his head out of the kitchen to take in the two men seated at the booth. “Yup,” he confirms when he sees them and turns back to his crossword puzzle.

  “That’s it?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice to a whisper. “Yup?” I mimic his nonchalance.

  “Well, what do you want me to say?” he asks, putting down his crossword and looking at me wearily.

  “I don’t know.” I throw my hands up. “You were the one that told me they would be here tonight. What did you expect to happen?” I ask, frustrated.

  “I didn’t expect anything,” George admits. “I thought you’d figure it out. You’re smart, Aimee. A damn sight smarter than me, that’s for sure. Use it,” he suggests. “But first you may want to take their order before they start wondering where the only waitress in the place has gone.”

  I take a deep breath and head back out into the diner and make a bee-line for the two men at the table. Now that I’m closer, they do sort of have an odd couple look about them. One of them is much taller than average and looks skinny as a bean-pole, but you can tell from his arms that he’s full of sinewy muscle. The other
is short—shorter than average—bearded, and he’s wider, built like a football player but in miniature.

  “What can I get you both?” I ask breezily as I reach their table. I had hoped to overhear something of interest as I approached their booth, but the men can see me coming a mile off. Besides, they don’t even seem to be talking to each other at all.

  “Two coffees, black, two omelets with cheese, and green salad on the side,” the tall man says, not looking at me and instead keeping his eyes trained on the front door.

  “Sure; anything else?” I ask, looking between the men.

  It’s the tall man that pipes up again, “No,” he replies sternly.

  “Does he ever speak?” I joke, motioning towards the shorter man. Both men turn their heads to look at me and I wonder why I don’t wear a muzzle.