“Anyway,” I said, turning back to Margo. “I’m going to stay over at his place for a bit. I don’t know how long, but if you don’t see me, I’m safe. Something’s up with my phone; it won’t pick up service, but I’ll call you from his number if I have to.”
She hugged me again, and when she pulled away and looked at me, her eyes were sparkling with knowing. Yes, I mentally answered the question in her eyes, we were going to go to his place and we were going to do it. I smiled at her.
“What’s happening with work?” she called after me when I walked toward my room.
“I’m not going back. I’ll find something though; I won’t miss rent.”
Saxon followed me to my room. He turned in a circle when he stood in the middle, and I realized I’d seen most of his world, but he hadn’t really seen any of mine.
“It’s not much,” I said. He walked to the desk where my books were stacked and thumbed the backs.
“Nerd girl,” he said. I chuckled. Of all the things he could say, that was what he came up with?”
I grabbed a bag and packed enough clothes in it to last me a week. I didn’t know how long I was going to stay there. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be safe, away from all the drama, and with Saxon. I got out of the clothes I’d been given and dressed in my own slacks and a t-shirt. I tied up my hair. It was tangled from the wind and greasy, but I would shower at his place, not here. I wanted to get out of here. It seemed wrong to leave Saxon waiting on the couch while I freshened up anyway.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
I zipped up my bag, and he took it for me. What a gentleman.
“I’m going,” I said to Margo.
“Be safe,” she called from the couch. Safe? That was the one thing I was set on for the next couple of months. I didn’t want anything to do with Kenneth Sherman or all the shit he’d brought into my life.
I got onto the back of the bike. It was starting to feel normal to me. We drove through the roads I knew, and everything looked different. When we got to Saxon’s apartment, he unlocked it and pushed the door open. It smelled like citrus cleaning products and smoke.
“Would you mind if I took a shower?” I asked.
Saxons shook his head. “Make yourself at home, babe.”
He took the bag to the bedroom and put it on the bed. My temporary home; I didn’t know for how long.
“I’ll be in the great room if you need me,” he said. I nodded and walked into the bathroom. I opened the taps and kicked off the clothes I’d just changed into, stepping into the warm spray. The water ran over my body, and it felt like the events of the past couple of days and all the pain and terror and confusion ran off with it, curling around my toes before disappearing down the drain. I ran my fingers through my hair before shampooing it and scrubbing until I knew it was clean. I hadn’t been able to wash properly in three days, and it felt amazing to stand under the running water.
I washed the rest of my body and shaved, and only after my legs were smooth again and my hair felt like silk through my fingers, did I feel like myself. I turned the hot tap so that the spray became hotter than it was, the bathroom steaming up until everything was wrapped in a thick cloud. I stood under the hot spray, just relishing in the freedom and warmth.
The bathroom door opened, and I saw Saxon come in through the steam. He looked at me through the glass shower wall and started undressing. His body was slightly blurring through the amount of steam, but I could see enough to know that he was hard for me. His skin glistened with the moisture in the air.
He opened the shower door and stepped in with me, cold air wafting in momentarily. His eyes were on mine, the color of the sky and drowning deep. He stepped closer to me until he was half in the spray of water and my naked breasts were pressed against his chest. I felt the length of him against my hip, hard flesh, slightly slippery, as his lust had already started spilling over the top.
He put his one hand on my hip, the other on my cheek, and moved his face very slowly closer to mine until our lips met. I tasted the hot water when I opened my mouth for him, and the taste of his lips mingled with it. His tongue pushed into my mouth, and he kissed me deeply, sensually, like that was the only thing he wanted to do all night.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and closed my eyes. Water ran over my face and across our joined lips, spilling into our mouths as we made out.
His hips started gyrating slowly, pressing his hard, thick member against me. My body heated from the inside, and I could feel the response between my legs, wetness of a different kind than the shower water was causing.
Saxon’s hand moved up from my hip, tracing his fingers along my waist, and then he found my breast. My nipples were already tight and erect, and he took one in his fingers and turned it like a button before spreading his whole hand over my breast and massaged it. My skin was slippery with the water, and the sensation was amazing. His other hand went to the small of my back to support my body, as he molded me in his hands.
I reached down and wrapped my fingers around the thick flesh that was trapped between our bodies, moving my hand up and down slowly. I could feel the veins and the ridges as I worked from base to tip and back, and Saxon sighed into my mouth. I reached my other hand down, leaving him to play with my breasts, and cupped his balls. I worked the two toward each other and then away again, massaging and stroking. More slippery pre-cum oozed out of the tip and made a thin string that dripped onto my hand.
As if he’d gotten bored, Saxon let go of my breasts and moved his hands down to my ass. He lifted me up and pressed my body against the wall. I gasped when my back hit the cold tiles. I wrapped my legs around his waist so that he didn’t have to do the work to hold me up and prayed that he wouldn’t slip on the wet tiles underfoot while he leaned against me.
I hovered over his cock, feeling the heat coming off it, and I knew he was right there. He helped me lower onto it, and when my body sank onto him and his cock buried inside of me, we moaned at the same time.
He pressed harder against me so that his weight held me against the wall. The tiles were hard on my back, but I didn’t care. He started moving his hips, sliding in and out of me, and it was heaven.
I moaned. I couldn’t do anything to help him, but he hitched me up in his arms somehow so that he didn’t have to grip me hard with his hands, and he started moving my body up and down on his cock so that he didn’t have to do all the work. My breasts jiggled close to his face, but his concentration was on me and what I was feeling, not what he was getting out of it.
He looked me in the eyes before his eyes slid down to my lips and he kissed me. It wasn’t a long, drawn out kiss. He let me go again so that he could keep moving me on his cock.
He rubbed me in all the right places and the familiar numbness that preceded an orgasm started taking shape inside of me. I had my hands around his neck again for balance, and his hot breath was on my face as he took me in the shower.
After a short while, long before I wanted to stop, he pulled out of me and then let me down. I straightened my legs, my thigh muscles sore from the position, and he kissed me again under the spray of the water. He moved his head down until his mouth found a nipple. His hands massaged my breasts while he sucked me. I put my hands on his curled back, feeling the smooth wet skin, tracing his tattoos with my fingertips.
He moved the hand from the breast he was sucking on and put it between my legs, fingers pushing into my folds until he found my clit. I gasped when he did, and he started rubbing me, his fingers moving in circles. My body jerked in response, and I closed my eyes, forgetting about the patterns on his back.
I got lost in the motion, the heat that he stirred up inside of me, the promise of a big climax.
And then he stopped.
“Come on,” he said. “The water is running cold.”
We’d used all the hot water. He turned off the taps and opened the door, letting me step out first. He handed me a white towel from the cabinet under the basin
, and I wrapped it around my hair. He took out another one and wrapped it around me, wiping the droplets of water from my skin, following with a trail of kisses. It was warm and sensual. And all about me.
When I was done with me, he wrapped a towel around his waist to get rid of the excess water. His cock was still hard and straining against the towel. I rubbed my hair so that it was just dry enough not to drip on everything, and then I stepped closer to him, hands on his chest.
He ran his fingers through my wet hair and kissed me.
Our lips stayed locked as he fumbled to get the door open, and we moved together into the bedroom. Somewhere I’d lost my towel. He dropped his just before we got to the bed. He pushed me onto the mattress and my wet hair was cold under my back. I lifted my shoulders and pulled it out, but Saxon was already on his knees at the end of the mattress, spreading my legs with his hands. He dove in between my legs again.
I was clean, and the sensation of his tongue on my clit and by my entrance after the hot shower was erotic. He licked me from bottom to top, and I shivered. His tongue was hot, and he buried it inside of me, penetrating me, probing me. I closed my eyes and moaned. When he focused on my clit, he pushed a finger into me, pumping it and out, mimicking sex. His fingers were long and capable, and he knew exactly where to touch me.
A moment later, he inserted another finger. I moaned again, and he started working in a rhythm with his tongue and his fingers so that an orgasm started building. It was like my body was a cup, filling up with hot water, and it was reaching the top quickly. Any second now I was going to spill over.
The moment I thought it, it happened. I orgasmed, and it shattered through me in a wave of light, starting at my core and washing through my body until it spilled out of every corner of my being. I buried my hands in Saxon’s hair and pulled his face into me, not caring that I was pushing myself up against him, bucking my hips against his mouth.
He licked me, lapping at me until the orgasm faded and my body relaxed again.
When he saw that my muscles weren’t twitching and jerking anymore, he crawled over my body and kissed me on the mouth. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, and I could taste myself, a faint tang on his tongue and the smell of my sex in my nostrils. And it wasn’t gross or weird. It was a turn on, knowing that I’d left my scent on him.
He was mine. All mine.
He lay on his side, his body half on mine. He reached for my hand with his, intertwined his fingers with mine for a moment, and then he ran his hand up my wrist, lifting my arm up above my head. He shifted his weight and did the same with the other arm, and then he pinned me to the bed. I tested his grip, tugged slightly, but he had me. I knew that even if I fought it, if he didn’t want to let me up, I wouldn’t get out.
He leaned over me, his weight pressing on my wrists and on his legs that were closed between my open legs. He looked at me, a question in his eyes, and I knew if I told him no he would still stop. This was a game. He was playing with me, but I was still in command. I could ask him for anything—and even though he held me down, he would give it to me.
But I didn’t want to say no. I nodded, and that was all the approval he needed. He leaned forward, pushing into me again. He slid into my wetness easily, and I gasped at the size of him. No matter how many times we did it, I never remembered how good he felt. Not exactly.
He filled me up. He pushed in hard, deep, all the way to the hilt. Then he pulled out again. I was trapped under his body; I surrendered to his mercy; and I liked it. I wanted him to take from me what he wanted because I wanted to give it to him. He treated me like I was made of gold, delicate, royal. Our relationship had started out with fucking, lust-driven sex that meant nothing but two bodies coming together to satisfy a natural urge.
Through the course of our relationship and us getting to know each other, it had changed. There had been feelings involved; things that had nothing to do with sex.
And now, after everything, we weren’t fucking at all. We were making love.
Saxon pushed into me again, and I moaned. He pushed harder and harder, and somewhere, he stopped being careful with me. He pumped into me, pushing in as far as he could go and then pulling out again until he almost popped out. The friction built another orgasm, and he kept pumping, holding onto my arms for dear life.
The fact that he was restraining me turned me on more, built the orgasm faster. I moaned and gasped, and he did the same. His body pounded into mine, a storm building around us. I wrapped my legs around his hips again, and he pushed harder and harder until he cried out and exploded inside of me.
His orgasm tipped my own, and I slipped over the edge just after he did. We orgasmed together, riding out the storm. My body curled around his. He let go of my hands and collapsed onto his elbows next to my head, gasping into my ear. It gave me goosebumps.
After the orgasm faded, and he started going soft inside of me and pulled out. He collapsed on the bed next to me. I turned onto my side, facing him. He was breathing hard, chest rising and falling. He lifted his hand and hooked my hair behind my ear.
“So, here’s the thing,” he said. I didn’t say anything, just waited for him to say what he wanted to say. “The life I lead isn’t exactly user-friendly. There are a lot of illegal things going on behind the scenes, and it’s not an easy to life to just walk into. I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do. I don’t want you to feel like you should be here because of the whole thing where I took care of Sherman.”
I nodded. I knew that.
“I want to be here,” I said.
He smiled and took my hand, kissing my knuckles.
“Good,” he said. “Because I want you here.”
And that was it. It wasn’t a sappy, emotional, “I love you.” It wasn’t awkward or mushy or overly romantic. It was a fact, and it worked. We crawled under the covers, and he pulled me closer to him. I threw my arm over his chest and closed my eyes, hearing the beat of his heart in his chest under my ear.
I didn’t go back to the diner. It closed a month later, no one knew why. Reggie was the one that phoned me and told me that it was closing down. I asked if Kenneth had showed face again. She said he hadn’t.
I finished my studies and started looking for a real job. Saxon made enough money—I didn’t know where he got it from and I didn’t want to know—to pay for the both of us so that I could focus on finishing my courses. The moment I got a real degree, I started looking for a proper job. I had interviews and clothes that were a little classier than that of a diner waitress.
I wasn’t going to walk the same road as Saxon. I still had my own ideas of the kind of life I wanted to live, and I was going to do it honestly. But I didn’t mind the fact that Saxon did what he did—and avoided the law. There were worse people to get involved with, people who had a clean slate where the government was concerned. Saxon hadn’t taken me to any of the gang meetings, yet. He said he didn’t want to throw me to the sharks so soon into our relationship. I wasn’t in any hurry to meet the thugs that made up the life he led when I turned a blind eye. Maybe one day our relationship would get there, but for now, I was happy with the compromise.
I moved in with Saxon, and Margo got a new roommate, someone less prone to getting into trouble. We still kept contact, but it was starting to fade. I didn’t mind.
I was still the same person, in some ways, but there were changes, too. I’d learned that right and wrong, and good and bad, weren’t always the same thing.
THE END
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Books by Kathryn Thomas
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Hard Ride: A Motorcycle Club Romance (The Fallen Thorns MC) (Whiskey Bad Boys Book 2)
I’m about to take this girl for a very hard ride.
Selena is a welcome distraction from trouble at the clubho
use.
The curvy librarian thinks she can back me down.
But I like the challenge.
And I’m about to show her just how wrong she is.
LOGAN
Getting women has always been too easy for me.
It’s nice to have a little difficulty for once.
The busty librarian thinks she’ll turn me down and walk away unscathed.
But her resistance can end in only one way:
With Selena on her knees, begging me for more.
But trouble is stirring at the Fallen Thorns MC.
Mysterious threats at our doorstep.
My crazy ex, more unstable than ever.
And a war on the horizon.
So be it.
I’ll handle this – and her – the way I’ve handled everything in my life:
Like a motherf**king biker.
Filthy Ride: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Iron Bones MC) (Whiskey Bad Boys Book 3) Page 23
