“I didn’t ask last time, but you on the pill?” He asked bluntly.
I shook my head. “N-no.”
“You’re gonna have to get on that soon,” he rumbled.
Then he suddenly was in front of me, picking me up off my feet with an arm around my ass.
I squealed in surprise, my arms automatically surrounding his neck as I held on for dear life.
“You’ll have to get that taken care of soon, I want to be in you bare,” he rumbled.
I wanted him in me bare, too.
Unfortunately, I was allergic to nearly every form of birth control except for condoms and possibly the implant.
I hadn’t tried the implant yet.
I hadn’t had a reason to… but it was very likely that I would, in fact, be allergic to this, too, since I had reacted to all the other methods I had tried.
Low hormone pills. The ring. The shot.
Been there, tried them all to no avail.
I never got a chance to explain any of this.
Nope, I was too consumed with what he was doing to my neck with his lips.
His beard scraped deliciously across the sensitive skin, and I shivered when he started to suck.
I’d have hickeys in the morning, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
In fact, I was kind of excited.
My skin bruised easily.
Everyone who saw me and the marks would know exactly why had happened.
“What are you thinking about that’s making you shiver like that?” He rasped, his tongue licking from my collarbone all the way up to my chin.
I gasped as those gentle swipes of his tongue were felt in my pussy.
“Y-you,” I answered honestly.
“Good,” he mumbled, hefting my ass up on top of my counter.
The cup of pens I had sitting on my counter next to the cash register fell to the floor, pens scattering everywhere.
“Lean back,” he ordered.
I did, letting my back fall backwards until it hit the cool, wood countertop with a soft thump.
His hands started to deftly work at my zipper, followed shortly by my buttons.
My shorts were swiftly ripped from my body moments later, leaving me in only my Queen underwear.
Okay, so I had a thing for crowns.
Nearly every pair I owned had a crown of some sort on it.
This particular pair had a bedazzled crown covering my mound, and I knew the instant Griffin saw it because he started to chuckle.
“Alright, my Queen. Let’s see what you have for me,” he rumbled, slowly working my underwear down my hips.
I squirmed when my pussy was exposed to the world and Griffin’s ravenous stare.
There was a little light from the illuminated ‘closed’ sign that I had hanging above my cash register, bathing my body in a soft red light.
Griffin’s eyes looked ethereal as he looked up my body before he slowly started his descent down.
My breath caught as his beard met the insides of my thighs, and I started panting when his lips ran down the seam of my sex.
No tongue, only the smooth, soft lips of the mouth I dreamed about kissing constantly.
“Mmmm,” he growled, inhaling deep. “You smell so fucking good.”
I blushed a deep red as I thought about what he’d just done.
I never thought I smelled good.
In fact, I thought I smelled bad.
But to know that Griffin thought the exact opposite was great news to me.
All girls wanted to know that their vaginas smelled good, right?
Then my mind lost focus as Griffin’s hands left my hips to curl around my thighs and inside, allowing both of his hands to spread open my sex for his hungry mouth.
I about jerked off the counter as I let out a shout.
“Shit!”
His tongue was like a livewire when it touched my clit, circling, coaxing, and demanding a response from me.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
His big shoulders pushed my thighs up, and I looked down, gasping as I saw his head moving back and forth.
The red glow from the sign above my head showing the movement of his head as it shimmered across the strands of his hair.
My hips jerked when he moved down to thrust his tongue into my entrance, jolting me out of the contemplation of his hair.
Hair in which I grabbed with both hands to urge him where I wanted him to be.
He didn’t take the hint when I pushed down harder, practically smothering him with my vagina.
I let go immediately as I thought about asphyxiating him with my pussy. What if he couldn’t breathe, and I killed him?
It’d literally be death by pussy.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” He asked, running the tip of his tongue from my clit to perineum.
“S-smothering you w-with my vagina,” I told him.
He chuckled, and I felt that sound all the way down to my toes.
“You won’t smother me, put your hands back in my hair,” he growled.
I did as ordered, placing my hands gingerly in his hair, causing him to laugh.
“Hold on to me, Queenie. It’s about to get rough.”
I did hold on, and thank fucking God I did.
Because in the next instant I was up off the counter, the backs of my thighs across his shoulders, calves hanging down his back, at least six feet off the ground.
“Griffin!” I cried, belly tightening as I felt his mouth suck my clit in.
I really had to be engulfing him now, but he didn’t seem to care as he walked backwards, only about ten feet, and pivoted.
I couldn’t really figure out how he was able to see, but I knew exactly where he was going to put me, and I swear to God my pussy started to gush.
I’d always been curious.
Sometimes I sat in the swing when I got tired of sitting on the stool.
I knew that wasn’t the intended use for this product.
But the damn thing was comfortable!
I’d set up a demo display for this particular item about a month and a half ago.
I’d had a handy man come into the store and install eyehooks into the ceiling, allowing me to hang the swing with ease.
It also wouldn’t be coming out of the roof anytime soon.
The man had been thorough, screwing the bolts directly into the beam of wood that lined the roof of the store.
Which was good since I hit my back with a small thump.
“I’ve wanted to use this on you since I saw it the day I got batteries,” he rumbled, hoisting the swing up by the chains that were hanging directly beside it.
I gasped as my body jolted, and I was positioned exactly where he wanted me.
I licked my lips, watching as he placed both of my feet into the stirrups.
They made me splay my thighs wide to accommodate his placement, and my eyes glazed over when I thought of what was in store.
“Shirt off,” he said.
He sounded breathless.
And I watched in stunned silence as he lost his shirt at the same time I lost mine.
“Your bra,” he rasped.
I bit my lip as I reached behind me, most awkwardly might I add, and removed my bra.
My breasts popped free, and I heard the distinct sound of his throat vibrating with appreciation.
“One day we’re going to have to take a picture of you like this…just for my viewing pleasure.”
I didn’t answer.
Couldn’t answer.
Because he started to lower the fly of his pants.
I started to gasp with excitement as he started to step out of his boots after lowering his pants.
The red glow was really doing great things to the expanse of Griffin’s hard body.
Every dip, divot, and groove was more pronounced.
My hand slowly lowered to circle my clit, feeling th
e wetness there and using it to my advantage as I coated my fingers and circled my bud as I watched him.
“Stop,” he ordered.
I ignored him, circling my clit faster and faster as I watched him kick off his pants, followed by his underwear.
A condom ripped in the quiet, and I tensed in anticipation.
“I said stop,” he growled as he stepped up to the swing.
I felt the large tip of his cock push against my clit, and I finally removed my hand, nearly whimpering now.
“Please,” I whined. “I need you inside of me.”
He didn’t wait for another invitation, only lined his cock up with my entrance and shoved himself completely inside.
I arched.
The swing jolted.
Chains clinked.
My breathing became even more labored.
And I was in ecstasy.
The feel of him inside me had my eyes crossing as he slowly started to pump in and out of me.
“You like that?” He asked.
I nodded. “Y-yeah.”
“You like me fucking you in front of the windows?”
I turned my head, gasping when I saw how close we now were to the windows.
Nobody would be able to see us…I hoped.
The Waffle House across the street from me was hopping, and I watched as a couple entered the restaurant.
But then a particularly brutal thrust had my eyes returning back to Griffin.
“Yeah,” I told him huskily. “I like it.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
Then he started to move faster and faster.
My breasts jolted with each thrust of his hips.
My eyes closed out of reflex as I started to feel a familiar blooming inside of my abdomen.
It started out small, but with each thrust of Griffin’s cock into my pussy, it became larger and larger until it was right there.
Right on the precipice, I waited.
“Come with me,” I pleaded.
He growled low in his throat, and his thrusts started to get longer. Slower.
I gasped as my orgasm raced through me.
The length of his cock slid all the way down the walls of my sex, pulling the most magnificent orgasm from depths that I’d ever experience before.
Griffin’s growl followed as my orgasm clamped down on his cock.
I screamed, unable to help myself.
My head fell back as far as the swing would allow me.
My hands clenched around the chains.
My heels dug into the stirrups.
Everything came together until my pussy exploded into ecstasy.
“Mother fucker,” Griffin bellowed.
Then he started to follow me over the cliff, plunging down with me twice as fast.
Short grunts, followed by a final sigh of completion followed his release, and I laid there in a daze.
“You broken?” He asked, pulling out of me slowly.
“Mmmm,” I agreed.
Or maybe disagreed.
I wasn’t really sure.
Tink-tink-tink-tink.
Someone was at the front of the store, slowly tapping a finger against the glass.
I stiffened in the swing and slowly started to untangle my feet from the stirrups.
Except they wouldn’t budge, and all I did was end up flopping around like a fish while the chains groaned from my movements.
Chapter 10
I hate being sexy, but I’m a bearded man. I can’t help it.
-T-shirt
Lenore
“Easy, baby,” he soothed, reaching forward and helping me remove my feet from their leather prisons.
“Don’t move. He can’t see in here,” he soothed.
Except my mind wasn’t really into being ‘calm.’
It was working myself into a tizzy.
“W-who is it?” I hissed as I felt around the floor with my hands to find my shirt.
I found my shorts first and forced them on, shoving my feet roughly into the holes, which incidentally ripped them from my hands.
I moaned in frustration and bent at the waist to pick them up from the floor, earning a smack on the ass from Griffin.
“I said calm down,” he urged. “It’s one of the boys from the club. Notice he’s not beating down the walls? That’s because he only wanted to announce his presence,” Griffin explained.
That didn’t make me feel better.
In fact, it made me feel worse.
At least, before, I thought they probably wouldn’t know what we were doing in here. But now, I knew for a fact that whomever was outside knew what we were doing.
Why else wouldn’t he want to bother us, but also let us know he was there?
I finally managed to yank my shorts up my legs and button them.
Griffin offered me my shirt, and I realized he was fully dressed.
“How’d you get dressed so fast?” I asked accusingly.
He laughed.
“I wasn’t too busy freaking out. I also leave them like most fireman leave their bunker gear. All I had to do was slip my feet into them and I was done,” he explained.
Well…that was…smart.
I pulled my shirt over my head, very aware that I was braless, and moved to the counter where I was fairly certain I’d last seen my flip flops.
I found them on the floor behind the counter, one resting upright next to the wall, and the other upside down partially underneath the counter.
I slipped them on, and headed to the front door where Griffin was already swinging the door open wide for his friends.
“What’s up?” Griffin asked the two men.
I couldn’t see them very well.
Their backs were to the outdoor lights, so all they really looked were glowing shadows.
“You need to get to the clubhouse…now,” the one on the left said.
“Okay,” Griffin said.
That was it.
There were no ‘why’s’ or ‘what for’s?’ Only, ‘okay,’ from Griffin.
“Bring your girl,” the one on the right said this time.
My brows rose to about fifteen feet past my hairline.
I wasn’t theirs to command.
I was my own person, and I was the one who made the decision about where I would be going.
But, apparently, I was Griffin’s to command.
Something I found out only moments later.
“Let’s go,” he growled, pulling me along.
I didn’t get my purse.
Nor my phone.
It all sat on the counter next to my computer that was still on.
I hadn’t emptied the till.
I hadn’t turned out the lights hanging over the dildos.
Nothing.
All I got was a yank on the arm and I was made to follow Griffin and the two men.
A twenty-minute ride later did nothing to improve my mood. I held onto Griffin’s body, reluctantly, as we made the last turn into the ‘clubhouse.’
And I hated it instantly.
I could smell the water of Caddo Lake.
I could practically feel the slithery, slimy things trying to get to me.
The dark night air pressed on my body like a second skin, and I wanted to cry.
I really, really hated the lake.
Had I mentioned that?
No, hate wasn’t a strong enough word for the revulsion I felt when it came to that particular body of water.
I detested the lake.
When I was fifteen, my father and I used to go on regular runs to the Lake and the bayou.
We’d fish.
We’d laugh.
We’d have fun.
But one day on a particular fishing excursion, it hadn’t been our usual.
That day wasn’t the nicest.
It was dark.
Really dark.
&nb
sp; And I’d been reluctant to go out with my father, but I hadn’t wanted him to go alone.
So I’d gone with him.
My father had an old boat.
It wasn’t the prettiest, but it ran like a top…until it didn’t.
We’d gotten out on the lake, about four miles out from our truck, and the boat had started that puttering sound.
You know the sound.
All vehicles make that sound when they aren’t working correctly, and my father’s boat was not an exception.
So there we were, four miles out, when the sky opened up.
It was raining terribly, and the water in the boat was filling up fast.
My heart had started pounding as I used the lid of my dad’s tackle box to start bailing out water.
It did no good.
Within less than thirty minutes, the boat was so filled with water that we had no other recourse but to get out and swim.
“Get off, Queenie,” Griffin rumbled, startling me out of my personal hell.
I tried to shake off the past, but I was still scared as hell.
I hadn’t been this close to the lake for nearly ten years.
In fact, since that day, which also happened to be the eve of my fifteenth birthday.
And my birthday was five days away.
It was too close for comfort for me.
I held onto Griffin’s arm tightly, unintentionally digging my nails into his skin. When he tried to remove his wrist from my grip, I started to hyperventilate.
“Your girl’s about to run,” one men who’d driven beside us the entire way here, said.
I was beyond caring at that point, though.
Mostly because I could hear the soft swells of the water lapping against the shore getting closer and closer, and I was fairly sure I was about to have a full on panic attack any second.
Griffin, of course, misunderstood my fear.
He thought I was scared because I was at his clubhouse.
And he was getting pissed.
“Would I ever fuckin’ hurt you, Lenore?” He growled, pulling me closer.
I couldn’t see him.
My eyes blurred with my tears.
My breathing became choppy, and my face was now slicked with a thin layer of sweat.
“Lenore,” he growled, yanking his hand from my grip and placing both of his big hands on my face. “What the fuck?”
My knees buckled.
“Mother fucker,” he growled. “Goddammit. Mig, go get the fuckin’ door.”
The moment his foot stepped onto the dock I passed out.
Whiskey Neat (The Uncertain Saints MC Book 1) Page 10
