by Brook Wilder
Sharon swung her hips as she walked closer to him. She put her small hand on his chest and beamed up at him with an adoring smile. Despite her horrific realizations about Vittorio and all his probable lies, he still looked and felt like the sexy man she’d shared many nights of passion with. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her close. When he leaned down to kiss her, it was sweet and warm. The feelings his kiss ignited within her were fully at odds with her fear and she felt her resolve to run diminish just a little.
Monster or not, she really had fallen for him.
Sharon broke the kiss and pulled away from Vittorio. “Shall we?” she asked, sauntering into the bedroom with Vittorio close behind her.
“Indeed, we shall!” he teased, lifting his baggy sweatshirt over her head.
Sharon hadn’t had a chance to change since they’d arrived at the house, so she dropped her day-old panties with her chinos and wriggled out of the flowy baby doll. She stood before Vittorio, completely bare. His eyes tracked up and down her body, his hungry gaze tracing every one of her curves.
“Jesus,” he said, appreciatively.
Sharon placed her hand back on his chest and gently pushed him until the backs of his legs bumped the bed. “Sit down,” she instructed him.
“Oh really?” he asked incredulously. He may have been surprised by her sudden take charge attitude, but he did what he was told.
Sharon climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. She could already feel the bulge between his legs growing as she placed a delicate hand on either side of his face and brought him in for a fiery kiss. She pushed her nimble little tongue into his mouth and teased his. Vittorio kissed her back, seeming pleased.
Good, Sharon thought. She felt almost completely in control. She had never felt so powerful or free. Not only was Sharon going to take him for a change, but once she was finished she would be a free woman.
She rocked her hips against him as she kissed him, his grateful hands guiding her back and forth against his lap. She tangled her hands in his black hair. It was softer than she expected. She gently pulled his head back, exposing his long, stubble-covered neck. Sharon trailed a line of kisses down his throat, stopping just above his collarbone to sink her teeth into him.
Vittorio groaned his approval, one hand wandering up to squeeze and caress the soft round globe of Sharon’s ass. Sharon kissed her way back up his neck and nibbled on his earlobe.
“I should give you space more often,” Vittorio joked.
If you only knew how much space I’m about to take from you, Sharon thought. She smiled despite herself.
She took two handfuls of his soft cotton t-shirt and pulled it over Vittoriohis head. She pressed her bare breasts against the warm skin of his chest and raked her nails down his back while she kissed him again. Vittorio wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her in tighter as he lay back on the bed. Sharon was fully on top of him now and she could feel his arousal pressing into her inner thigh. She reached between her legs to undo his pants and free him.
Once freed, his erection reached up towards her, practically begging her to sit on it. Sharon positioned him and slowly lowered herself down onto him.
Vittorio hummed happy sounds as she slowly took every inch of him while he just lay back. Sharon couldn’t help a pleasant little yelp as he filled her. The sensation was overwhelming whether she was planning to leave him or not. She tensed her thighs and started moving up and down his shaft, slowly at first, then picking up speed.
“God, you feel so good,” Sharon said breathily.
“You too, baby, you too,” Vittorio moaned happily. He put both hands on her ass and leaned his head back. He helped guide her up and down his impressive length.
Sharon winced at the affectionate pet name, but she couldn’t let him throw her. She started riding him harder, relishing the incredible sensation of fullness. Her pleasure juices ran down his rock-hard shaft. With every trip up and down his cock, she felt herself getting closer to that magical moment. Her ass smacked against his thighs as she rode. She began moaning more and louder.
“You gonna make yourself cum, my love?” Vittorio asked. He opened his eyes and smiled adoringly up at her.
“You know it, honey,” Sharon whispered back breathily. The sweet word felt all wrong even as she said it. Once she walked out the door, she knew Vittorio couldn’t be her “honey” anymore.
Don’t get distracted, Sharon reminded herself. She turned her attention back to fucking and the wave of ecstasy began to crest as she rode Vittorio.
“I’m… I’m gonna cum,” she muttered.
Vittorio released her ass and threaded his fingers through Sharon’s. He held her hands as her body spasmed in pleasure, an intimate gesture that made the overwhelming sensation all the more intense.
“Oh… Oh my god!” Sharon hollered as she came. “I love you Vittorio!”
The words just slipped out, but Sharon realized she meant them.
“I love you too,” Vittorio told her, squeezing her hands. “Mind if I finish us off?”
With that, he started pumping his hips up into Sharon, much deeper than she could seem to get on her own. His rock-hard head bumped against her cervix and sent more little twitches of pleasure up into Sharon’s core. She could feel his cock begin to throb within her and she sat down on him hard as he burst, filling her with his cum amidst a chorus of delighted groans.
Once his happy sounds stopped, Sharon dismounted as gracefully as she could on the soft duvet. The sun had gone completely down, so the room was pleasantly dark.
“That was fantastic,” Vittorio complimented her. “Nice surprise. I thought you were mad at me.”
Sharon shrugged coyly. “I was.”
Then I decided to run, she said to herself.
“Well, I’m sorry I made you mad. I handled some things today and hopefully we won’t be hearing from Rocco anymore.” Vittorio told her. He wrapped a hand around her waist. “Now we can just focus on us.”
“Yeah, we sure can,” Sharon said, forcing a smile. She wondered if he even really cared about “them” or if he was just deceiving her again. Even if they did end up together, could Sharon ever really trust him?
“You okay?” he asked. Clearly, Vittorio could tell something was up. Sharon had never been a very good actress.
“What? Oh yeah, just tired,” Sharon said, raising a hand to her mouth and forcing a yawn.
“Me too,” Vittorio said, his mouth also widening into a yawn. “I know it’s early, but I slept like shit last night.”
“So did I,” Sharon agreed. Her heart rate quickened, she couldn’t believe her plan was actually working. “Maybe we should just turn in? Get any early start to the day tomorrow?”
“That actually sounds really nice,” Vittorio said sleepily. His eyelids drooped and he looked just a few moments away from sleep.
Sharon pulled the covers back, so he could crawl into bed. She had never seen him so mellowed. It was sort of sweet to watch him snuggle up with himself. She lay down next to him and waited for the slow, heavy breaths of sleep.
Just as he drifted off, Vittorio mumbled, “I really love you, you know. I dunno what I’d do if I ever lost you.”
Well, you’re about to find out, Sharon smarted to herself.
“Love you too,” she cooed.
Vittorio fell asleep. Sharon knew she couldn’t act too quickly and risk waking him. She waited until his deep breaths evolved into snores before gently peeling the blanket off herself. With slow, gentle movements she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
Across the bed, Sharon could see moonlight glinting off a heap of silver.
Yes! she thought. The keys were exactly where she had hoped they would be. As silently as possible, she crept around the bed and ever-so-carefully picked them up. The metal jingled a bit as she grabbed them and Sharon winced.
Vittorio didn’t even stir.
Sharon took one last look at his handsome face. There was no denying his good looks
and the soft nature of sleep had him looking younger, meeker and even more lovable in the bluish light.
He’s a monster, Sharon had to remind herself. They could never be together. They were just too different. For more than one reason, Sharon knew the right thing to do was to leave.
After collecting her pile of clothes and shoes off the floor, she snuck out the bedroom door and down the dark hallway. She dressed herself quickly, then carefully picked her way down the stairs, eventually finding her way back to the kitchen. She avoided the dining room. She hadn’t been back in since the shooter attacked them, and she dreaded the sight of dried blood on the walls.
I’m doing the right thing by leaving, Sharon continued to remind herself. She opened the door to the garage and closed it gently behind her. She flipped the garage light on and took one more sad look at Vittorio’s cars. They really were beautiful. Another girl might have thought she was crazy for walking away from a life this luxurious, but it just wasn’t Sharon.
Sharon realized a problem she hadn’t considered. She would need to open the large garage door in order to get Vittorio’s car out on the road. Would the loud mechanical buzzing wake Vittorio? Or was the house big enough that he wouldn’t hear it?
It was a risk she had to take. Sharon smacked the button to open the garage. The mechanism rumbled to life with a loud roar as it dragged the door up.
Shit, Sharon thought. She broke into a run towards the swanky Mercedes and beeped the fob. She hurled herself into the driver’s seat and fumbled with the key. She pushed it into the lock and jerked the seat forward so that her short legs could reach the pedals. She threw the car in reverse and zoomed out of the garage. She fussed with the manual transmission, trying to remember what her dad had taught her on their bumpy truck back home. She pumped the clutch and changed gears, driving the speedy car into the tree-lined tunnel that led to her freedom.
Sharon sped out onto the road, adrenaline saturating her every nerve. She turned the way she thought they’d come and floored it.
For miles, she looked over her shoulder, waiting to see a set of headlights following her.
She never did.
She was free.
To Be Continued
Read on for an excerpt from Book 1 of the Dirty Cruisers MC series – Ride Hard:
PREVIEW: Ride Hard
HE’LL TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME, AND HE’S JUST GETTING STARTED.
It was supposed to be a simple delivery—until Joel Lasseter forced me off the road, held me up, and told me he was taking whatever he wanted.
I want to say that I resisted.
I want to say that I put up the good fight.
I want to say that I never saw him again.
But none of that would be the truth.
Chapter 1
The snowcapped mountains sank like the teeth of a saw blade into the azure blue sky and streams of white clouds hung like fat cotton balls as the breeze stilled for a brief moment. It whipped up again, sweeping them away like ribbons of white caught in an eddy of sapphire and it brought the smell of crisp evergreen and earthy mulch, along with another, more pungent smell.
Carla wiped the slight dew of sweat from her brow as she bent over the small seedling she was nurturing to life--along with the rows of its brothers and sisters--and put it back in its place before moving on to the next one. When she had graduated from the University of Colorado with a degree in botany earlier that year, Honey Bud Farms was the last place she’d imagined herself working in. She’d always pictured herself in some lab, in a clean white coat and goggles, researching new or unknown species. She learned pretty quickly that botany research jobs didn’t hang on trees, and as her student loan bills had started to come due, she’d been out of options.
As the breeze moved in, cooler now that the sun was just starting to dip behind the mountain peaks, she shivered slightly. The temperature could drop rapidly--and drastically--at this altitude and she regretted not grabbing her jacket from her truck earlier. Her dust-coated jeans and tank top did nothing as the air around her chilled even more and Carla gratefully ducked into the greenhouse.
She was instantly greeted by a blessed wave of humidity and she took a deep breath of the warm, peat scented air as she walked slowly down the long rows. This was where she belonged. Where she felt most at peace. Each tiny plant, some hardly more than a bare sprout, each sat nestled in their canvas bag wrapped soil, each in their place under the grow lights that hung low and filled the eighty-foot greenhouse with a warm, sunny yellow light. Carla instantly relaxed as she set to work going over each row, doing the last checks before closing up for the night.
Her job at the farm was simple. She was in charge of making sure the species of plants were all healthy and thriving, and she was even producing a new splice of plants that should result in higher yields next season. She bent down and ran the pads of her fingers along the newly developed plants, each with their familiar five leaf shape, and shook her head with a small grin. She never thought she’d be using her degree in botany to grow new strains of weed, but at least she was using her knowledge, and working with the thing she loved most. Plants, that is, not marijuana, even though she did indulge from time to time.
She’d always had a green thumb, some of her earliest memories were of working out in the garden with her grandma, getting dirt underneath her fingernails and loving every minute of it. There was a special kind of magic in bringing life to something as mundane as a tiny seed, of watching it grow, nurturing it. Carla had always known she wanted to work with plants but it had taken going to college to fall in love with the science behind it. And now, she was working at Honey Bud Farm. Growing weed.
The thought of college made her stomach knot uncomfortably, like it always did these days. The debt from her student loans kept piling higher and higher and she had to scrape together everything she could just to make the monthly payments. She’d gradated almost a year ago, believing that she would be able to walk into any job she wanted. Turns out, the jobs she wanted were few and far between. Very far between. And she had struggled from waitress gigs to bartending until finally landing here.
On top of her school bills, there was rent to pay and groceries to buy. A girl had to eat, even though surviving on canned soup everyday couldn’t really be considered ‘eating’. Not good eating, anyway. A twinge of guilt had her shifting her shoulders. The last couple months had been really hard and her neighbor and friend, Elle, had helped her out with rent. Carla still hadn’t been able to pay her back, even though she’d been trying. It was just one more line item on her growing list of debts. At least she had a steady job now, so she could plan on her paychecks, but lately she had been wondering if it was even worth the money.
It had been almost four months since she started working at the farm, and so far it had been great, giving her the opportunity to at least work with plants. Well, almost great. The job was nice, the farm was close to her house just outside of Denver, so the commute was fine. No, the problem was Maurice.
Maurice was her boss and the owner of the farm. Things had been fantastic the first few months but then he’d started coming down from the small house adjacent to the farm that served as the office more and more, and always when she was on shift. Carla didn’t really pay attention at first, she had just been so grateful to have a job, if the boss was a little on the weird side, at least she was getting a paycheck.
But he had started following her around, leering at her while she was working, and most of the time, it was just the two of them. Sometimes Eric, their regular driver, was there to pick up a new shipment but it was getting harder and harder for her to deal with. Sometimes he would just stare, sometimes he would make comments as she walked by and it made her cringe every time.
Maurice was in his late fifties, but indulging in alcohol and smoking had aged him by at least another ten years. His skin was haggard and yellow and hung off his portly frame in unflattering rolls. His beady eyes seemed to track her every movement, and when
he was there it made her job almost unbearable.
The worst had been one day over a week ago. Carla had felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck, that feeling that someone was watching her. An itch between her shoulder blades that she tried to ignore, but finally couldn’t. She’d been alone, working outside to gather the bags that had already been dried and processed, ready to be shipped to the dispensary in Denver and the sensation refused to go away. She’d looked around her, knowing that she was alone on the farm that day except for Maurice.
On a hunch, she’d glanced back over her shoulder towards the office and there he’d been, standing at the window, just staring at her. She’d only caught a glimpse from his shoulders up but with the way his arm had been moving, she’d been pretty sure she knew what he was doing in there and the thought had made her want to throw up. But she didn’t know how to approach him about it. It was obvious he would just deny whatever allegations she raised against him because there was never anyone else around when he pulled that shit. Just her word against his.
