Something had shifted last night at the inn. I’d taken charge in our sex life for the first time. After being okay with who I was after Chrissy had died, I didn’t feel the urge to lose control the way I used to. The combination made me just as serious in bed as Daniel was, and I was going to give it to him in every way that he could take it and dish back. Which meant that sex was going to be a power play—which was hot as hell—and rougher than usual. I couldn’t wait. The idea made me want him inside of me right now.
I moved my hands around to the front and unbuckled his jeans. I undid the button and the fly and worked it over his ass, taking all layers with me until he stood in front of me, naked. His erection punched into the air, the tip glistening. His jeans were still around his ankles. He couldn’t kick it off without taking off his shoes, but I wasn’t going to give him time to do that. I wanted him.
I got off the table, and he turned. I knelt in front of him and took his head into my mouth. The moment I started sucking, he groaned. He tasted salty and delicious. I felt my body grow even hotter, and if the melted, slick feeling in my panties were anything to go by, I was more than ready for him.
I sucked him off, meeting my lips with my fist around the base of his cock, and with the other hand I squeezed his balls. He had his hands in my hair, guiding my face towards his body, pushing himself deeper into my mouth.
I stopped when his breathing became ragged. I didn’t want him to finish, not yet.
When I got up, he looked at me with greed. He found the top of my own pants and pulled them down without ceremony. Crouching in front of me, he looked up at me. He wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me closer to him. He pressed his lips against me through the underwear and blew until hot air filled my crotch area. I moaned. He moved his lips against me, and the sensation just made me crave him that much more. He pulled down the panties, ran a finger through my slit, and when I shuddered, he followed with his tongue. He only licked once, slipping over my clit, and my body jerked.
He stood up and pushed me gently so that I got on the table again. He let me lie back. I let my legs fall open, ready for him to do whatever he wanted. His eyes slid over my naked body like he was drinking me in. I knew when he looked at my sex because he groaned. His fingers found the slit again, and he moved them up and down in the wetness before he pushed them into me.
I moaned when he did. He took the opportunity to kneel down and put his mouth over me. Pumping his fingers slowly in and out of me, he licked and sucked on my clit. Everything fell away. My whole world was reduced to his mouth on my clit, and his fingers inside of me. The heat in my body expanded and intensified until I felt like I was a ball of light. I was on the edge, but Daniel kept me there, not letting me topple over until he said so. The control was arousing. The feeling on my sex and in my body was orgasmic. I gasped and moaned, struggling to keep a lid on it.
Then he let me have my release, and it shattered through me, ripping my insides open like a whirlwind. I curled on the table, hips bucking against my hand. I was vaguely aware of papers falling to the floor, and I didn’t care. The orgasm, what Daniel was doing to my body, was all I could think about—and I rode it out.
When it finally subsided Daniel was right there, pushing into me. My body—just tightened from the orgasm—was stretched to its limit as his thick, hard member pushed into me. I moaned louder than I should have. He held onto my legs, using it as a point of leverage to get as deep as he could. Then he leaned over me, looked me in the eye, and started fucking me.
It was the best sex. Every time we did it, it was so much better than I remembered it to be, and I always remembered it to be mind-blowing. Daniel held onto my hips to keep me in place as he pounded against me. The desk moved across the floor, inch by inch, as he banged it out of place, pushing into me. His length moved in and out of me, and I gasped and moaned.
I was nearing another orgasm, and it rocked through my body in no time at all. I felt my insides clamp down on Daniel, milking what he hadn’t given me yet.
A moment later he pulled out. The emptiness left a complaint on my lips, but he took my hands and pulled me up, planting me on wobbly legs. He turned me so that I was back against the wall where we’d started, and he lifted my one leg, hand wrapped around my thigh. He pushed into me again, and I gasped.
This was all him. My body felt like jelly after the two orgasms. He was the one holding me up against the wall, stopping me from falling. And he pushed into me again.
This time he took it nice and slow, his cock moving in and out so casually I wanted to scream. He was building up more sexual heat, but he was holding back on me, driving me crazy. He smiled at me when he did it, too, a mischievous smile that told me he knew exactly what I was doing.
“Daniel, please,” I begged him. I cried out something that was just a mix of syllables.
As if he’d had enough of torturing me, he let me go, pulled out, and then spun me around. I braced myself on the desk as he pushed into me from behind. The urgency and the strength I’d been craving was there now. He rammed into me and started bucking his hips against mine, pumping hard and fast. I held on for dear life as he fucked me. His strokes shorted, his speed increased, and his cock thickened. He was going to release soon. And if he kept going like this, so was I.
He was first to orgasm. I felt him shoot his load into me, coating my insides, claiming me as his. His release triggered my own and I orgasmed a third time. This time my body did was it was meant to do, milking him, pulling every last drop out of him. We moaned together, and he leaned his upper body on mine so that the weight was almost unbearable.
He pulled out of me with a wet sound. I turned around, smiling at him. He looked flush, which only made his eyes seem bluer. He pulled me into him and held me, skin on skin, and I felt so close to him it was as if we were one person.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. I agreed. I wanted to go home. I wanted to cuddle up to him in bed and spend the afternoon under the covers, sleeping, cuddling, fucking some more.
I could do this for the rest of my life, I realized. And I wanted to. Daniel and I were going to get married, and everything was going to be all right. For both of us.
The biker I’d met in the emergency room had become everything to me. And I wanted it to stay that way.
We got dressed. When I unlocked the door, we left the office, hand-in-hand. I didn’t care who saw us. We walked to the car and drove home, ready for the next step in our lives.
“I love you,” Daniel said as we drove. I looked at him and smiled.
“I love you, too.”
THE END
Read on for your FREE bonus book – BIKER’S GIFT
BIKER’S GIFT: Chrome Kings MC By Claire St. Rose
HE GAVE ME A BABY AND LEFT ME ALONE. UNTIL NOW.
The biker gave me a gift: his baby in my belly.
Then he left me to raise her myself.
But just when there’s finally hope for my daughter’s future…
Gabriel comes storming back into town.
It was a night to remember.
The biker’s mouth…
Hot and persistent…
Taking me higher and higher than I ever thought possible.
But just as suddenly as it started…
He was gone.
Not all of him, though.
He left something behind.
Something small.
Something precious.
His baby in my belly.
It’s been years since then.
I have a life now – it’s me and my little girl against the world.
I work hard to provide for us, but she’s worth every second.
Someday, I’ll get her out of this place.
At least, that’s what I used to think.
But when Gabriel rides back into town, all bets are off.
Because when he learns he has a daughter…
He’ll do whatever it takes to stake his claim to her.
An
d to me, too.
Try as I might, there’s no stopping him.
The bad boy always gets what he wants.
CHAPTER ONE Stella Hayes pulled four-dozen Kaiser Rolls from the oven and set them aside on the cooling rack. Once they were completely cooled she would bag them up, six to a bag, for sale. She enjoyed working in the bakery of On A Roll and took great pride in the quality of the items she made. June Rodgers, the owner of the upscale grocery, gave her a free hand to make whatever she liked, so long as it sold well enough to cover the expense of making it, and she’d developed a local reputation and a loyal following. She baked continuously from eleven until about six, making fresh bread, cookies and various cakes and pies, all made from scratch, and all made from ingredients she picked from the store’s stock, including the recipe on a card taped to each item sold.
Rodgers had objected to including the recipes at first, but Stella pointed out the recipe helped sell other items in the store, most of the people who bought from the bakery would continue to do so because they normally didn’t have the time or skills to make it themselves, and the customers liked the fact that the store was open and honest about how the items were made. He relented, and even expanded upon the idea by having Stella offer baking classes four times a year customers could sign up for. The bakery didn’t make a lot of money, but it was a big draw for the rest of the store, and it was one of the things, along with cut-to-order meat and the store’s diverse and impeccably fresh produce, that separated On A Roll from the big chains that competed on price.
She pulled a rack of baguettes from oven and placed them on cooling racks, allowing the long loaves to cool as she began to bag the Kaiser Rolls. The big rush started around three and ran until about seven, and she wanted to make sure she had enough prepackaged items ready for the busy moms and dads. She had a clerk to help work the counter during the rush, but she did all the preparation and baking, making good use of the three commercial ovens with steam injection, and the heavy mixer that could handle up to twenty-five pounds of batter or dough at a time. There was never a shortage of clerks wanting to help her because she alway rewarded them for their help with something from the discount table. She suspected Rodgers knew she was giving away items that were about to be donated to the local food bank, but he never asked and she didn’t bother to tell.
The giant mixer was whirring away as it stirred the batter for her butter sheet cake. She made four a day, two with chocolate frosting, one with vanilla and butter, and one with cream cheese. She was amazed anyone would buy the cakes since they were so easy to make, but it was a rare day that all four weren’t sold. She’d just finished pouring the batter into a giant sheet pan for a cake she would later quarter and frost when she saw the men stride in. From her station in the bakery, she had a good view of the front door and registers, and enjoyed watching the comings and goings of the patrons.
They were obviously part of a club or organization, each man wearing a black leather vest with a silver shield on the back. Inside the shield was silhouette of a man, shown from the neck up, with lines of silver defining his shape on the black background. The image had glowing red eyes staring out from below his low-riding gambler’s hat and the lower part of his face covered by a bandana. The men all wore jeans and heavy boots, their arms covered in tattoos, and were most definitely not the typical On A Roll customers.
She’d was sliding the cake into the oven as the men began to line up at the register, loaded down with beer and junk food. She grinned as Robin nervously rang the men out, keeping her eyes down as she performed her task, not that she blamed her actually. If the men had stopped at the bakery, she would have probably been a little intimidated by them, too.
She watched as they picked up their beer and snacks and walked out of the store, grinning again as Robin visibly relaxed and then turned to face her as she twisted her face into an exaggerated mask of surprise. Stella snickered, gave her a wave, then turned away as the oven began to bleat for her attention, announcing the completion of the four fruit pies.
***
Stella chucked her flour covered apron into the hamper and stripped out of her store uniform of khaki pants and deep green shirt, slipping into a pair of shorts and a light blue t-shirt. The Carolina Diner didn’t have a dress code, other than to dress neatly, so she dressed for comfort. After nine hours at her regular job, she wasn’t in the mood to try to impress anyone with her sense of style, especially for minimum wage plus tips.
She threw together a quick sandwich for dinner and wolfed it down. She had an hour between her jobs. The bakery closed at eight, and she went on shift at Carolina Diner at nine where she worked until it closed at midnight. The only way she could make it work was both the diner and the store were within a ten minute drive of her apartment.
By the time she arrived at the diner the heavy dinner rush was mostly over and that usually made for light work. The lighter workload was good, especially after working a full day at her regular job, but the tips were pretty thin, too, which wasn’t as good.
Two more months. She only had to hold it together for two more months, then her car would be paid for and she could quit the diner job she’d been working for the last year. She smiled at the thought of that. She’d thought she could handle it, and had, but while working three hours a night Tuesday through Friday, and a Sunday morning doesn’t seem like a lot in concept, after a year, the hours really added up. She was mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted and ready to get back to just working at On A Roll .
That was the problem with being a single mom. Babies were expensive ! If something went wrong, like it did when her 2000 Chevy Cavalier coughed up a hairball and died with a seized engine, it left her scrambling. She’d picked up the extra job to pay for her new car, a 2014 Honda Civic, but it had taken time away from Katrina and really put a load on her grandmother. Stella still had mornings with her daughter, but if it hadn’t been for Grammy, she didn’t know what she’d have done.
Grammy had been a lifesaver through all this, keeping Katrina while she worked. Stella paid her a hundred bucks a week, and for that she got unlimited daycare. It worked for both of them. It allowed her to work at a job she enjoyed and helped her grandmother make ends meet. Neither one of them were getting rich, but they were making it work, they were happy, and Grammy got to see her great-granddaughter as much as she wanted. Probably more than she wanted if the truth were known, though she’d never complained or acted like keeping Katrina was a chore or inconvenience.
As soon as she finished eating, she loaded her dishes into the washer, started it washing so it would be done when she and Katrina got home, then trotted down the steps to the parking lot. Only two more months she told herself to buoy her spirits.
***
Stella parked in the large parking lot Carolina Diner shared with the strip mall. It looked like it was going to be a busy night judging by the number of cars and bikes parked nearby. She was a few minutes early for her shift, but she clocked in anyway because Naomi was always willing to leave a little early, and Stella knew from experience if she stopped and sat down, she didn’t want to get up again.
When she stepped out of the kitchen to find Naomi and get the lowdown on her tables, she noticed the men standing in line to check out. Ten of them, all wearing the same vest she’d seen in the store earlier. Carolina Diner was a greasy spoon often frequented by bikers because the diner was motorcycle friendly, the food was good, fast and cheap, and it was less than a half-mile off the interstate.
“Stella?”
She’d been squeezing past the knot of men to find Naomi when the man spoke, the voice making her turn in recognition. “Hello, Gabriel,” she said quietly, then moved past.
Gabriel Prince watched as Stella looked down and stepped away from the register, obviously not wanting to talk to him. He looked down as a fist clenched his stomach. Why would she, after what he’d done? He waited his turn then stepped to the register and paid, then stepped out of the way instead
of following his brothers out the door.
“Go ahead without me,” Gabriel said to Avery Doctson. “I have something I need to do.”
Doc grinned. “Yeah, I saw.”
Gabriel gave him a slightly sad sideway grin. “It’s some old business I need to take care of.”
He waited until Stella finished talking with another waitress, then stepped up to her before she could slip away again. “How you been?”
“Why do you care?”
Gabriel grimaced at the rebuke. “I guess I deserved that.” Stella made to step around him without saying a word, but he caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Can we talk?”
“About what?” she snapped. “What is there to talk about? How you walked out on me? How you broke my heart? How you never once called in the entire four years you’ve been gone?”
Gabriel grimaced again. “I guess I deserved that, too.”
“Yeah, I guess you do. Why are you here?”
“I’m back in town.”
“Goody,” she said, but her tone said something completely different.
BENT AT THE ALTAR Page 24
