Miss ~ Harloe Rae

by Rae, Harloe

  “I know what you need, baby. But building you up slowly makes it better.”

  “You’re being so sweet,” I purr.

  “I bottled up the soft side for too long. Now it’s pouring out.”

  My fingers wrap around his nape. “I don’t mind the overflow. I love sex with you in every position. But changing it up mid-scene is always . . . hot,” I whisper along his jaw.

  Something ignites in Zeke’s blue gaze, searing into me. I’ve flipped a switch inside of him, and a thrill zings through me. I involuntarily tighten around his thrusting dick, and he hisses.

  “The lady gets what she wants,” he says and pulls away to sit up. His hands grip the back of my knees, pushing up and out. My muscles stretch and burn from the position, but I’d never complain. I curve my spine, sending my breasts toward him. Zeke pistons in and out, his pace picking up speed with each drive. He powers forward and grinds against my clit, zapping me with a surge of electrical current.

  He watches his cock enter me, groaning with each erotic shift. “You’re so fucking sexy, baby.”

  I stare at his flexing biceps as he holds me in place. “I have the better view,” I say on a breathy exhale.

  “Agree to disagree,” he growls with a hard thrust.

  Zeke is so in tune with my body and every forceful plunge rockets me closer to the promised land. When his breathing picks up, I know he’s getting more turned on. When he hits just the right spot, my back arches higher, seeking and reaching another hit of blissful pleasure.

  “Flip over,” Zeke suddenly rumbles.

  My belly swoops at the demand, and I’m eager to follow his wishes. He guides me onto my hands and knees, pressing and lifting until I’m positioned to his liking. My shoulders are brushing against the mattress as I settle in. I raise my ass higher, and he tugs until our hips are notched together. There’s no warning when he rams into me, not that I need it. I’m plenty primed and hovering over the breaking point.

  Zeke doesn’t ask permission with his next move—I wouldn’t want him to. He understands what I need without me saying a word. His thumb slides along my crack, teasing and playing. He explores that forbidden area like so many times before. I squirm when he sucks that digit into his mouth and returns it to my puckered hole, rimming the edge. His strokes in and out of my pussy become lazy while he toys with my ass.

  My moan is indecent when he sinks in, stretching me further. I’m so much fuller this way, and the pressure is more intense. Zeke presses deeper before dragging out, setting a slow rhythm. The addition of his finger heightens my pleasure tenfold. I get loopy off his touch, the way he worships my entire body.

  “I won’t last much longer like this,” he whispers.

  “Me either . . .” I wheeze.

  “You’ve missed me back here, Trip.”

  I nod wildly, my hair whipping around me. “So much.”

  “You’re starving for it.” He groans and wiggles his finger further in.

  “Uh-huh,” I mumble incoherently.

  I push my knees wider, lowering myself to get a better angle. Zeke shoves in without hesitation, taking advantage of what I’m offering. He invades and owns every part of my body. I’m soaring and sailing without a thought of anything else. All I feel is Zeke surrounding me.

  Zeke’s free hand delves between my legs, finding my clit. He’s a master craftsman with those talented hands, and I’m the current project. He swipes once, twice, then I’m shattering into the white-hot atmosphere. I clench everywhere as the orgasm blasts through me. My legs shake from the overwhelming pleasure raining down on me.

  With a deafening roar, Zeke finds his release, following me over the ledge. He collapses against me, and we sink onto the mattress, never separating for a second. We’re a sweaty heap, but I’ve never been more comfortable. His bulky arms loop around my waist and pull me impossibly closer.

  Once he’s caught his breath, Zeke chuckles against my neck. I look at him over my shoulder with a raised brow.

  He smirks. “Was that enough variety for you?”

  I rub my temple. “Oh, yes. My head is still spinning.”

  “That good, huh?”

  “I’m very satisfied, thank you very much.”

  “Hopefully not too worn out,” Zeke murmurs and cups my breast.

  I wiggle my butt against him and gasp when his dick twitches inside of me. “What the—? How are you still hard?”

  He scoffs. “Because you’re sexy as fuck.”

  “Good answer.”

  Zeke kisses my tattoo, something he does at every available opportunity. My belly swoops in the same way each time. His mouth moves up my neck, sucking along the sensitive skin. He begins pumping forward, entering me with shallow thrusts. “This round will be nice and slow, the whole way through.”

  I reach up and loop my arm around his neck, drawing him in. “That sounds perfect.”

  DANCE

  Zeke

  “THIS WILL BE so fun,” Addison chirps from her corner of the backseat.

  Raven twists around from the front toward us. “The club already posted a few pictures online. There’s a huge crowd gathering for this band. Good call choosing Cyclone, Addy.”

  Her face is resting on the window when she mutters, “The real test is who’ll be there waiting for me.”

  “You expecting someone?” I ask.

  Addison leans forward to study me. “Not necessarily. Just . . . wishful thinking.”

  Trey snorts from behind the wheel and Raven shoves his shoulder. “What the fuck, Princess? I’m driving.”

  She scoffs. “Please. I hardly tapped you. Stop being rude.”

  “I make one little noise and get the fifth degree? That’s bullshit,” he says.

  This is the point where I tune out. Delilah sits next to me, squished in the middle. Not sure she cares about the lack of space. I definitely don’t mind her pressed up against me. In my opinion, it doesn’t get much better than having my girl stuck to me like glue. Aside from the clothing barriers. I’d rip off every scrap of fabric separating us before she could blink.

  As the truck curves around a steep bend, Delilah slides even closer, practically sprawling across my lap. I have to bite back a moan begging to escape. I shift uncomfortably and try to alleviate the strain in my jeans. Finding relief is useless, so I give up the fight, sliding my hand higher on Delilah’s bare thigh. She rewards me with a beaming smile, and I sigh. Too bad we’re not alone.

  As if listening to my thoughts, Trey says, “Still don’t understand why we all had to ride together.”

  “Not sure what you’re bitching about, Sollens. You’ve got all the leg room up there,” I joke.

  “He was hoping for a repeat performance,” Delilah whispers from the corner of her mouth. Raven whips around with a finger against her lips. But it’s no use, Trey hears loud and clear.

  “Is nothing private between you girls?”

  “Not a thing,” Addison admits. Delilah and Raven nod in agreement. That’s good to know.

  “Whatever,” Trey grumbles.

  “And for your information,” Raven adds, “carpooling is fun. Plus, it saves gas money.”

  “For who?” Trey asks.

  “The rest of u-us,” Delilah sing-songs.

  I chuckle at her tone and wrap my arm around her. “Love you, Trippy girl.”

  “Ugh,” Addison fusses. “Surrounded by effing soulmates. Save it for the bedroom, you two.”

  “The night is young,” Raven assures.

  Addison waves her off. “Yeah, yeah.”

  We pull into the jam-packed lot ten minutes later. In an unexpected show of manners, Trey drops us off at the door before searching for a spot. I grab Delilah’s hand and help her out of the lifted pickup. She gives me a wink and leads us into the booming club. I’ve never been to Cyclone before tonight, but she seems to know her way around.

  While my eyes adjust, all I see are bright strobe lights bouncing off the walls. The band is belting out a classi
c rock song, which makes me want to pour a little sugar all over Delilah. She swivels her hips and spins around me like an erotic ballerina.

  I lick my lips and bend close. “Should we grab a drink before getting all worked up?” I motion toward the bar.

  Delilah surveys the scene. “The lines are three or four people deep. Let’s pass for now.” Then she quirks a brow. “Unless you need something to loosen up.”

  I chuckle in her ear. “Hardly. I’ll be putty in your hands, baby.”

  She purrs. “Oooh, I love the sound of that.”

  I smile against her silky skin, unfiltered happiness beaming down on us. Delilah laces our fingers and aims straight for the overflowing dancefloor. In every direction, bodies are gyrating and humping against one another. Why wait until later to blow off some steam?

  I twirl Delilah in my arms and yank her into me. In this position, her ass is perfectly cradling my dick. I rock forward and she rolls back, our bodies finding a fluid rhythm. The music pounds from the speakers and encourages us to grind faster. We’re surrounded by an endless sea of people, yet all I see and feel is Delilah.

  I adore this woman.

  My pulse leaps when her fingers crawl up my legs, not stopping until she’s winding them around my neck. Delilah’s head lolls on my shoulder and exposes her throat. I take advantage of the access, kissing and sucking along her neck. She bows against me, opening herself further to my wandering touch. I slide under her silky shirt and roam across the smooth expanse of her stomach.

  Delilah’s face turns into me so she can whisper directly in my ear. “I’ve missed this.”

  “Trip, baby,” I groan. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this.”

  Her torso vibrates with a laugh. “You always loved going clubbing in high school.”

  “How could I not? It’s like fucking you with clothes on.”

  Delilah’s dirty writhing is proving my point. “Dry-humping at its finest,” she murmurs and bites my jaw.

  We remain tangled through the first set of the band. They alternate between fast-paced jams and slow, seductive beats. The combination gives me nonstop opportunities to have my hands plastered all over Delilah. She’s definitely taking advantage of our situation too, her suggestive moves driving me mad with need. I’m officially burning up, wearing lust like a winter coat during a heatwave.

  I release a slow exhale when the live music cuts off for a set break. My brow is slick with sweat, and Delilah’s skin is balmy. It’s a fucking sauna and only getting hotter.

  “Want something to drink? I’m fucking blazing,” I say and tug at the collar of my tee.

  Delilah nods. “Definitely.”

  “Come with me?” I suggest and hold my hand out.

  She links her fingers with mine, but stays planted in place. I follow her line of sight and notice Addison standing nearby. Delilah nibbles on her bottom lip and keeps staring in her direction.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I’m worried about her,” she says. Her shining green eyes meet mine. “Can you grab a few beers and meet me back here? I should talk to her.” Delilah lifts her chin toward Addison.

  I reluctantly agree, never pleased to let her go, especially in this capacity. I’m probably too obsessed, but who fucking cares. Delilah bounces up on her toes and kisses me. Our mouths meet for a fast moment before she breaks away.

  “See you in a bit,” she says with a wink.

  I watch her approach Addison and the girls hug in greeting. Satisfied that she’s not alone, I turn away and begin trudging toward the bar. I have a hard time believing this place isn’t breaking maximum occupancy laws. A month ago, nothing could have convinced me to step foot in this joint. But Delilah has revived the old me. Instead of dread pooling in my gut, I’m loose and relaxed. Maybe dancing is a good way to blow off tension.

  It feels like an hour passes before the bartender takes my order. He slams down three bottles without sparing me a glance. I pass him the cash and grab our drinks. Waiting in this never-ending line has stolen some of the calm I was enjoying, but the cold beer helps. Without further delay, I begin weaving through the throng to where Delilah and Addison are waiting. I’m about to offer up high-fives when the crowd parts and makes walking easier. But the relief is short lived.

  I slam to a halt as some asshole puts his meaty paws on Delilah. White-hot rage consumes me while she shakes her head and struggles to get away. He’s not taking the hint, but I’ll be making it crystal clear. I blindly hand off the drinks to someone on my right and begin shoving my way toward Delilah. People in my path scurry so I’m sure my expression reflects the murderous fury flooding me. I’ve never felt such a driving force propelling me forward.

  This shithead is messing with the wrong girl.

  PUNISH

  Delilah

  “NO MEANS NO, jerk-off. Let the fuck go and get lost,” I yell in this stranger’s face. I try to rip my arm from his grasp, but he’s locked around me.

  His beady eyes slowly scan down my body. “I don’t think so, sugar. You’re coming with me.” He licks his lips and yanks me closer.

  I tumble into his chest on my wobbly heels. Stilettos were a bad choice. He smells like whiskey and fried food and vomit. I swallow the bile climbing my throat. My struggle continues, and I shove away, but he’s holding on too tight. His arm cinches around my lower back like a metal band, and I scream to high heaven.

  His vice grip loosens, and he appears distracted. For a moment, I think my tactics worked, and he’s giving up. But then I catch him glaring over my shoulder. Without having to look, I know who’s hovering there, and the panic bubbling in my belly fades.

  “Hands. Off.” Zeke’s menacing tone carries over the music. I shiver at the powerful fierceness he exudes. Before I can blink, he’s in front of me and in the stranger’s space. The size difference between the two men is almost comical. Zeke could easily overpower this douchebag, but the other guy doesn’t seem to care about self-preservation.

  It’s difficult to hear, but heated words are exchanged. The stranger pushes Zeke, and that sets off a chain reaction. Shit escalates in a blur of rapid motions, both men refusing to back down. Desperation strangles me. I need to stop them from fighting. I’m shielded from danger and don’t see his elbow coming. Zeke’s arm cocks back like a slingshot and blasts straight into my cheek.

  “Mother fucking son of a bitch,” I wail. Blinding pain sears bone-deep, the impact shocking and stealing my breath. My vision blurs with tears, and I blink them away. I’m clutching the tender spot when Zeke whips around to check on me. Horror widens his features, and he stares down at his trembling hands.

  “Shit, Trip. A-are you okay?” He’s about to touch my face but jerks away at the last second.

  I touch around the sore area and hiss loudly. My left eye is watering, and I roll it around in the socket to alleviate the building pressure. Zeke studies my every move, silently appraising me between rapid blinks.

  “I can’t believe . . . Shit. I hit you.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “The fuck I didn’t. Look at your face. There’s already a bruise forming.”

  I force a smile in spite of the blistering heat covering my skin. “I wasn’t paying enough attention. This was a total accident. It’ll be gone in a few days.”

  Zeke’s voice is agony wrapped in despair. “The swelling, maybe. But the significance is permanent.”

  “What?” I furrow my brows and wince.

  “Dammit, you’re in pain. I hurt you,” he cries.

  I shake my head. “No, it’s all right. Don’t look so worried. See?” I lightly press against the tender area, and it’s like a hot poker jabbing into me. “Ow, shit,” I whimper.

  That was the wrong thing to say.

  The change in Zeke is immediate. A gust snuffs the light in his eyes. I watch as all traces of softness vanish from his broad build, and he turns into rock. His guard slams down with a deafening bang, my legs shaking from the imagi
nary force.

  “Let’s get you some ice,” he clips. Without making contact, Zeke guides me to the bar. He’s purposely keeping a safe distance, and an excruciating ache digs into my chest. I reach for his fingers, needing to be connected to him in this moment.

  “I’m fine, Zee. It’s already feeling better,” I say. My entire face is throbbing, but a white lie in this situation is far less painful than witnessing him freeze me out. When my fingers brush his skin, Zeke’s entire body tenses. He wrenches out of my light hold, and I stumble from the abrupt movement.

  “Fuck,” he roars and rips at his hair.

  Fresh tears sting my eyes. “Zee? That was an accident. It’s okay—”

  He slashes the air with his hand. “The fuck it is. Just . . . no. We’re not doing this here. Not now. You need to get ice on that.” Zeke blindly gestures at my cheek, refusing to look at me.

  A fissure cracks my heart at his standoffish behavior. I try to convince myself he just needs to cool off. Then we’ll talk about this and be laughing by morning. But my gut sinks like a brick because I know Zeke better than that. He wouldn’t act this way without a very serious reason.

  Shit.

  My mood spirals from there, low and lower yet. Reality bleeds into this nightmare and floats away in a cloudy puff. Ten minutes whip by in a fuzzy blur. I’m dazed, and stars twinkle on the edges of my vision. Suddenly we’re buckling into the truck, but I don’t remember getting here. When I blink, we’re on the road and heading home.

  I rest a palm on my forehead. Dammit, I’m dizzy and disorientated. I adjust the bag of melting ice on my jaw and exhale slowly. Zeke is a stone pillar beside me, cold and stiff. He alternates between looking at the ceiling and burying his face between both palms. When he peeks out, his lashes are wet. All the air wheezes from my lungs. I hiccup on a strangled inhale, finding it difficult to breathe. Desperation to eliminate this frigid distance separating us propels through me. I shift to touch him, to soothe this unbearable ache, needing to feel his warmth under my palm. Zeke visibly flinches and leans away from my comfort. I clamp my jaw shut to trap the sob rising in me.