Blaine, an ally of the gang who had connections within the police department, came by while Tiffany and I were working on Ron. Weston and Dixon talked to him outside for a long time. Whatever they talked about, the result was that there wouldn't even be an investigation. I didn't fully understand how Shadowbeach was able to ignore or avoid so much of this, but I didn't much care, either. Corruption ran riot in the city. I wasn’t ignorant to the fact.
The guys were rounding up the Locos bodies and stacking them in their vans. While the cleanup was underway, the main members of the Fire Birds were at the Lock.
Jake told me later that they were going to try to nail down the reason for the attack. But they'd completely destroyed the Locos gang, literally killing every single patch, and they therefore couldn't see where any retaliation would come from.
Even if the attack had been part of the Drago Cartel–which at this point was only a rumor and still not confirmed–it wasn't the cartel way to retaliate in the name of a lesser player, unless it was part of negotiated terms.
So, well past midnight, most everyone headed home. Dixon and Tiffany were staying to take care of Ron. Jake and I were putting things to rights in the clubhouse. Though there had been a couple of haphazard attempts to clean ourselves up, we were both still more or less covered in blood. Jake mostly in Ron’s and that of the Locos guy he'd shot point blank in the face. I was soaked in whatever had rubbed off Jake as well as more of Ron’s from assisting Tiffany.
I was sticky and exhausted and sore in every atom. I was sitting alone at the bar after finishing my much needed fourth, deep glass of tequila–my head on my arms.
Jake came up behind me and wrapped me in his arms. I sat up so that he could surround me more completely and rested back against him. He kissed the side of my head and whispered, "Come on, babe. Let's go back to my room." I nodded. He took my hand and led me back.
As soon as he closed the door, he again came up behind me and folded me into his embrace. He leaned down and pressed his face into the crook of my shoulder. I turned around and curled into him, my fists clutching his shirt, my forehead against his chest. He held me for a while, and then I felt his kiss on my head, my ear, my cheek.
I tipped my face up to his and he pressed his lips to mine, gently. I moved my hands up and behind his head, under his beanie, into his hair, and pressed him more firmly to me. He groaned, and I slid my tongue into his mouth. The metallic tang of blood was strong in my nose. I could taste it in our kiss.
He picked me up and carried me into the bathroom. He started the shower, made it hot, and we undressed each other. Neither of us had yet spoken a single word. We showered together, washing away the blood and grime of the night. The water swirled thick and red down the drain.
The shower was small and Jake was large, so we were tangled together. I tipped my head back to rinse shampoo out of my hair and away from my tired face, lingering under the calming spray, my breasts pressed against Jake's hard and heavy chest.
The hot slick feel of wet skin on skin made my nipples prickle. I heard him hum deeply and felt a hand on my buttocks, pressing me more completely to him, and his other hand on my chest, over my collarbone, his fingers curled around my neck. His cock was hard between us.
I brought my head back up. His azure eyes were hooded, his mouth was open slightly, his breath was heavy. I grabbed hold of his wet, clean-shaven face and pulled his mouth to mine. He slid his hand into my hair and kissed me, hard and deep. He reached behind me to turn off the water and then carried me, both still dripping, to bed.
He laid me on the bed. As he lay down beside me, I rolled onto my stomach and turned my head towards him. I lifted my hips off the bed a couple of inches, pushing my wet, dripping buttocks up, and shimmied my hips just slightly before resting back down on the bed.
I watched him take in the glory I presented to him, and then I felt his hand on my shoulder. He shifted to lie on his side against me, propped on his elbow, and slowly moved his hand down the length of my back, over the swell of one cheek–lingering there for a second–and down my leg. He grabbed my thigh and pulled it towards him, spreading my legs apart.
He rolled and shifted to kneel between my legs. He leaned forward, his hands on the bed at my hips, and I could feel the wet ends of his hair and his chin leaving cool, ticklish trails along my skin as he kissed his way across and down my back. I felt his tongue swirling around the dimples at my lower back. And then his hands were kneading my butt and thighs, his thumbs coming closer and closer to my pulsing core.
I came up on my knees, and he slid a hand between my legs to finger my clit and then push his fingers inside me. I felt his touch straight through my spine, and I gasped and bucked. His fingers were wet with me, and he slid them back along my cleft, circling the ridges of my anus. He slid a finger in, and I moaned and pushed back at him.
I looked over my shoulder at him. "We can try."
Jake groaned and turned his finger in me. "You sure, babe?"
What he was doing felt amazing. "Mmmm. Yeah. Please. But slow." I tightened around him.
He groaned again. He slid his finger out and added another, stretching me more. The pressure was heavy and sweet, and my clit throbbed. He gently pistoned his fingers several times and then scissored them inside me. I was gasping and so wet I could feel trails trickling along my folds.
Without removing his fingers, Jake pushed into my core, using my arousal as lubrication. "Oh, baby, you're so wet," he murmured. He pulled out and shifted slightly on his knees.
Then he eased his fingers out of me and moved into position, first pushing gently against the tight flesh. I dropped my chest to the mattress, opening myself to him more. He pushed harder, entering me and stopping a couple of inches in. I gasped and whimpered. The pressure was intense.
"Holy fuck, Dakota," he gasped. "You're so hot and tight. Are you okay?"
"Yes. Keep going. Jake…"
He slid back until only his tip was in me, and then pushed in farther. I moaned. "Don't let me hurt you, babe. Please stop me before I hurt you," he whispered.
I was panting and reeling; it was hard to talk. "Okay. More."
Again he pulled back and pushed in more. I had taken almost all of him now. I moaned and flexed. He gasped as I moved, and he clenched his fingers around my hips. "Oh, Jake. You feel so goddamn good." I squeezed all the muscles that mattered, and he grunted hard.
So quick it almost had to be a reflex, he pulled back and then into me completely before I quite knew what was happening. I cried out. His surge forward overbalanced me and nearly flattened me on the bed. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me up. The sudden changes in angle and penetration were unbelievably intense, and I cried out again.
Jake sat back on his heels and pulled me onto his lap, flushed against his chest. He pressed his mouth to my shoulder; I could feel his heavy breathing against my skin. He lifted his lips slightly and asked, "Is this good, babe?"
He was fully sheathed in me but keeping still, letting me adjust. The pressure of his cock filling me in this way was overwhelming. I felt stretched and full and so turned on I couldn't think. "So good. You?"
"This feels fucking incredible." He bit down on my shoulder.
I clutched at his legs between mine and flexed my hips, making him moan. He took my hands and lifted them up and around to drape behind his head, then slowly traced his fingers down the length of my arms until they met my chest. I leaned my head back against his shoulder.
He cupped both breasts in his hands, flicking his thumbs across my erect nipples. All of my nerve endings felt electrified, and the sensation of his hands and fingers on my breasts was almost too much to bear. I started flexing my hips against him, making the pressure inside me pulse. He began to pinch and twist my nipples. My breath was coming heavy, in sighs and moans. I grabbed handfuls of his wet hair.
He dropped his forehead to my shoulder, panting hard. He started to rock gently in time with me. We were moving together, our te
mpo increasing. I was close; I could tell he was, too. I felt one of his hands leave my breast and move down my abdomen to settle between my legs and make tight, firm circles on my clit.
Then his hand slid down farther, and I felt his fingers sliding into me. “Fuck, Jake, you feel so good...” He had my pelvis in a grip, his fingers inside me, his palm against my clit. His other hand was still kneading and tweaking my breast. He was stimulating me in every conceivable way. Physically as well as mentally.
My need was huge and building. And then it was there. I bent forward in a rush, my hands dropping to land on his knees, and I bucked urgently against his thrusts, feeling that the stretch was too much but not caring, screaming when I finally peaked. With a roar, Jake lifted off his heels and pushed me down onto the bed, his hands on my hips, thrusting into me until he exploded inside of me.
He collapsed on me, pressing me into the mattress for a moment, before remembering himself. Shaking, he pulled–gingerly, slowly–out of me. It hurt, but I caught myself before I made a sound. He slid to my side, one of his large legs draped over mine, his large arm around my waist.
We were both panting heavily. I felt utterly exhausted and used up. Jake brushed my hair out of my face. "Babe? Dakota? Are you okay?"
I was, but I was also dazed and sore. "I'm good. That was good. Really, really fucking good. Not an everyday thing though, okay?"
"Agreed. Jesus Christ, that was intense. You're sure you're okay?"
I smiled and reached out to run my fingers over his cheek. "I'm sure, Bad Boy. I think I'm going to want another shower, though. Care to join me?"
Jake pressed my hand to his face. "You bet." I started to pull away and sit up, but he held me to him. "I wish I knew how to make you know how much I love you."
"You do. In so many ways." I rolled to my side facing him and wound myself into his embrace. Yes, I was definitely sore. But I forgot that as we kissed, a slow, sweet, gently exploring kiss. When it ended, I rolled over, carefully, and sat up at the side of the bed, slowly. I didn't want Jake to notice that I was sore; I knew he'd take it badly. We hadn't done anything I didn't want to do. Hell, I'd initiated it, and the pleasure had been indescribable. But he was big, and I was feeling that now.
I stood up and slowly headed to the bathroom. Jake came quickly around the bed and caught me by the elbow. "Dakota. You're not okay." I opened my mouth to say, again, that I was fine, but he interrupted me. "Please, just tell me."
Dammit. I looked at him, weighing my options. I wanted to keep these festivities on the menu, but I knew he knew I was feeling some aftereffects. I sighed. "I'm a little sore, yeah. I am okay, just sore. I don't want that to freak you out. As far as I'm concerned it was worth it, but that's why I don't want this to be an everyday thing. But I also don't want to never do it again."
The concern was clear on his face, but he just kissed my forehead. "Thank you for being honest. Let's talk some other time about whether we'll do it again."
Then he lifted me gently into his arms and carried me to the shower, where he washed me tenderly. After, he carried me back to bed, I nestled against his side.
As pale dawn light was beginning to overtake the night, I woke aroused. Jake was lying facing me, caressing me, running his hands lightly up and down the lengths of my arm, my leg, down my back, over the swell of my bum.
I opened my eyes to see him propped on an elbow and watching me. When he saw that I was awake, he leaned down and touched his forehead to mine. "Let me in, Dakota. I want to love you gentle."
Still foggy with sleep, I rolled onto my back. He rolled with me and settled on top of me, his legs between mine. He was propped on his forearms, his hands in my hair. He leaned down and kissed me softly, his lips moving lightly over mine. I kissed him back but didn't try to deepen it; gentle sounded pretty good just now.
For a long time we lay like that, kissing lightly, Jake's hands laced in my hair, my arms looped around his back, his cock between us, hard but still. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. My core was wet and throbbing. I wanted him in me. I pressed my hands against his back to push him closer to me, and I slid my tongue into his mouth. He grunted and deepened the kiss with me, but he didn't move otherwise.
I brought my legs up to wrap around him, and hissed sharply as my body reminded me about the previous night. Jake rose up on his hands immediately, looking down at me, worried.
"Oh, shit, Dakota. You are really hurt. Goddammit." He lifted away from me as if to move off.
I held him tight to me. "I don't want to stop. I want you to love me right now. Gentle, like you said. Please." No point in saying I was okay; I was, really, but I was also a little bit hurt.
He looked down at me, uncertain. I finished wrapping me legs around him–now that we were already up alongside his hips, it didn't hurt–and squeezed. He let go a long breath and kissed me again, his tongue probing my mouth. Then he leaned to one side and moved his hand down to position himself at my entrance. He slid into me slowly. The soreness I felt underneath increased my sensitivity, and I gasped and closed my eyes.
Jake stopped. I opened my eyes to see him watching me carefully, worried. "No, Jake. It's good. It's so good." I flexed my hips slightly, and he closed his eyes and pushed in the rest of the way.
He moved slowly, his rhythm steady. He kissed me again and didn't stop. He'd never been gentler. I relaxed into the pleasure, floated on it. I shifted so that I could wrap my arms around his neck and comb my fingers through his glorious hair.
We stayed like that, connected, him moving in me, bringing us towards something far away, for a long time. Then, finally, something in my pleasure changed, and I needed more. I moaned and flexed. I felt a catch of pain but didn't care. I tried to bring Jake deeper.
He was breathing heavily, and I knew he was feeling what I was feeling, but still he resisted my attempts to escalate. He wouldn't push harder; he wouldn't move faster. He lifted his lips from mine. "Shhh, babe. Easy. Just relax and let it come."
I whimpered in frustration but eased back and tried to relax, closing my eyes. I could feel him shaking, straining to hold back, but still he stayed steady, kissing me, pushing deeply but gently into me, his rhythm unchanging. We continued on like that for what seemed like forever, my pleasure expanding so subtly that I was surprised when I realized that I was about to come.
My eyes flew open. He was right there, his sea-blue eyes watching me intently, the toll of his effort written all over his face. I was panting and moaning and suddenly so close. "Jake... Jake," I gasped. "Now. I need to move."
He nodded. I flexed my legs and canted my hips hard. I barely noticed the twinge of pain. I came, moaning. At the same time, Jake groaned, "Oh, baby, I’m coming…" and pushed into me as far as I could take him and held there.
We clutched each other tight like that, pulsing, until I came. A few seconds later, I could feel the warm eruption of him coming inside of me, filling me with his love.
Then Jake pulled gently out of me and moved to my side, pulling me with him. I scooted back to settle into his embrace. We linked fingers, and Jake nuzzled my neck.
"I love you," I whispered.
"Dakota, I love you more," he answered.
And we slept again. Our dreams bringing us together again in a perfect world, free from bloodshed and the sins of our past.
Chapter Eleven
Jake
I walked up behind Dakota and wrapped an arm around her tiny waist. With my other hand, I swept the thick, dark curtain of her hair aside and pressed a kiss to her neck, at the crook of her shoulder. I took a deep breath and savored the smell of her. "You about ready, Beauty?"
She settled into my embrace for a second, reaching up and running her fingers through my hair. Then she zipped shut her backpack. "Yep. You want me to call Tiffany and find out if we're good to go?"
"Nah. I'll call Dixon."
We were heading south. Dixon and I had to meet a contact in Winterhaven–which should be as low risk as our shit got thes
e days–and Dakota was giving a lecture or something at a conference in San Diego during her spring break. So we'd decided to combine the two, bring Tiffany, and make a vacation out of it.
Dakota had convinced me to stop in Riverside so she could meet my daughter. That made me nervous, but she was right. I couldn't very well commit to her without her meeting my daughter.
Dakota had booked us into adjoining rooms at the conference hotel, on the beach. We were riding down; we'd rent a car to see Ellie. We'd be gone five days. With two days riding, round trip, and a day for our various jobs, we should have a day or two to relax, if all went well.
It would be fucking nice if all went well for once.
The ride down went smoothly and was a blast. We'd started early and we'd made good time, stopping only once, for gas and a fast-food lunch, so we could hit San Diego before dark.
I loved riding the shovelhead with Dakota. It was a great bike, with a sweet ride. Even though she'd given it to me as a gift, I thought of it as our bike, and I never rode it without her. The seat was such that we sat at about the same level, while Dakota sat up higher on my Dyna, and I loved the feeling of sheltering her completely behind me. I loved it a lot, actually. It took real effort to stay focused on the road when I could feel her thighs along mine, her chest against my back, and her arms around my waist.
I was impressed that Dakota and Tiffany had each packed with only one backpack. One of the many benefits of loving a low-maintenance girl. Everything the four of us needed for the week fit in our saddlebags, even with the stuff Dakota needed to bring for work. Then again, I knew for a fact some of her clothes weren't taking up much space. Her bathing suit, for example. I was really hoping there'd be a chance for her to wear that tiny thing.
It was late March. The weather we'd left behind in Shadowbeach was overcast and chilly, but five-hundred miles south it was clear and unseasonably warm, especially in the late afternoon, when we arrived at the hotel. It was the nicest one I had ever stayed in. Dakota was footing the bill for us all. It made me uncomfortable when she spent too much of her money–not because I had a thing about her having more money than I did, but because I did not want the gang to get wind of her bottom line. Weston especially would see it as Fire Bird's own private nest egg.
Beauty and the Bad Boy Page 14
