Outlaws: A Romance Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  The power in that did something to me. Never had I wanted to be inside a woman so desperately as I did with Priscilla.

  Without pausing, I kissed her, my lips, my tongue, tracing every inch of her mouth, and with one hand, I freed my hard cock. My pants fall to my ankles, our breathing loud inside the small room.

  “I have to be inside you,” I grunted. She nodded empathically and pushed me off her just enough for her to stand and remove her panties. When she hopped back onto the counter, she pulled me back into her, taking my mouth again like a mad woman. The aggression and desperation heated my blood.

  Without warning, I plunged my dick into her tight as fuck heat. She gasped inside my mouth, then bit my bottom lip. I laughed deep inside my chest, the animal in me pleased. I grabbed her hips and thrust into her with a savageness I didn’t know I possessed, and when she threatened to get too loud, I put my palm against her mouth, and held her gaze, whispering all the things I wanted to do to her, and her to do to me. With those blue eyes rolling back in ecstasy at my dirty words, I came with the force of a tsunami, the orgasm sweeping me away into mind-melting oblivion, where nothing else existed but Priscilla.

  “Fuck, baby,” I hissed in her ear as I pumped the last of my load into her. Panting, I kissed her, slowly and softly, then rested my forehead against hers. Breathless, she was so quiet, her eyes wide, glazed but alert. “What are you thinking?”

  She touched my cheek, gentle and unexpected. Something stirred in me, something I hadn’t felt in years.

  I found myself nervous at how she’d answer. I had just sullied my daughter-in-law, fucked her in my bathroom while my family ate their filet mignon a few rooms away.

  “That was… amazing.” The corners of her lips lifted as her eyes scanned every inch of my face, as if seeing me for the first time. “I’ve never…”

  I grunted out a laugh, relieved, and the movement reminded me that I was still inside her. The thought instantly made me hard again, and her eyes widened.

  “Never what, sweet girl?” I whispered, wanting her again already.

  “Come like… that. From just sex. Dylan—” As soon as the name left her lips, we both seemed to wake up. Forget the fact that her confession made me even more hard, but hearing my son’s name—her husband—poured gasoline, not cold water, as she might have expected, onto my thoughts. No, not water. I had no regrets. It was anger. Possession. Petty, inappropriate, primordial wrath. Ownership.

  I wanted Priscilla to be mine.

  The concept rocked me back with the force of a fist.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I just ruined the moment, didn’t I?” She touched my cheek again, reading my expression. “This is…. Wow, yeah, this is insane.” She sighed, seeming to wilt under the heavy cloak of something I had no name for. I didn’t like it.

  Carefully, I pulled out of her, tucked myself back into my briefs, and buttoned up my pants, all the while studying her. “Priscilla.” I wet a washcloth and began to wash her, wiping away the evidence of what had just happened between us, literally.

  “Yes?”

  Once I was done, I turned to the towel closet and retrieved a large towel, which I handed to her. “Put this around you and go to the guest room, the one you stayed in last time you were here. I’ll send Phyllis up with something you can wear.”

  She nodded, her brow worried, but quietly did what I asked. Lost in the task, her movements were almost robotic, her face turned away from me.

  “Then, Priscilla, while you’re upstairs, I’m going to announce that you’re not feeling well. I’ll advise that you stay overnight.” She looked at me finally, her sweet face awash in confusion. I couldn’t tell her my reasoning was because I didn’t want her going home, doing something rash, like tell Dylan what had just happened, or, knowing her, asking for a divorce and leaving on the next train to Timbuktu wracked with guilt and shame.

  I pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “Okay?”

  And as I knew she would, she obeyed. “Okay.”

  “Good girl.” I winked at her, then unlocked the door, opening it, poking my head out to look down the hallway. It was empty, just as I thought it would be.

  I told Priscilla to head on up, that I would take care of her remaining clothes and speak to the others about her absence. She nodded and gave me a small smile but still… that sense of heaviness hovered over her.

  Once I was alone again, I grabbed her panties off the floor, grabbed the skirt, and headed to my room, where I deposited her things into my laundry bin. I straightened my shirt, ran a hand through my hair, and went back downstairs to find my children.

  Calm and collected. Fully in control.

  They were in the library. Drinks were being passed around. I spotted Phyllis in the back, fiddling with the drapes, opening them up for a view of the night sky. Quickly, I let her know about Priscilla, and once that was done, I pulled Dylan aside and told him that I had run into my very sick daughter-in-law on my way to the wine cellar. That it was best if she stayed overnight and that I was more than likely going to call Angelo.

  Dylan seemed confused but not too concerned as we spoke quietly, away from the rest of the family, who were busy laughing about some story Ella and Pascal were telling.

  “Huh. Maybe she’s coming down with something,” Dylan said before taking a sip of his drink. “Did she like, get sick-sick?”

  I assumed he was talking about vomiting.

  I nodded. “Any chance you two have news to share?”

  Thankfully, he was bright enough to get the gist of that line. My money didn’t all go to waste on good schooling for him.

  “Oh, definitely not. Nope, we got that covered. IUD. Our five-year plan, then we’ll, uh, visit the baby thing.” Dylan took another sip, then absently slipped a finger in the neck of his shirt, pulling it away a bit from his throat.

  I guessed the idea of parenthood, or just Priscilla pregnant, made him nervous.

  The thought of getting Priscilla pregnant, planting my seed deep inside her like I had twenty minutes ago, made me hard as granite.

  “Ah. How are things, by the way?” I motioned him to follow me over to the bar, where I made myself a drink. “How did that venture with your brother a few weeks back go, the one in Marion, right?”

  I made sure to watch his expression for his response. Only someone who knew him well, like his own father, could read his tells—ear pulling twice, then a grunt of a sardonic laugh.

  “No such luck, that one. I’m sure even Tom has forgotten it,” he replied, looking over to where his brother was standing. Probably to make sure Thomas was far away enough to not hear our conversation and catch him in a lie.

  “Well, can’t win them all, right?” I offered with a wink. “What was the client’s name, maybe I can help butter them up?” I waved goodnight to Phyllis, who had sent me the signal that she had everything under control for the night, as usual.

  Appearing in no hurry, I waited to hear Dylan’s answer. Of course, I didn’t expect an answer. I knew my son wouldn’t name a single person. He wasn’t that fast on his feet.

  Instead, he mumbled something about checking his messages and said he’d be taking off soon.

  I sipped my drink and watched him walk off. Something needed to be done about Dylan, and I planned on doing that something soon. I was just waiting for a phone call.

  Later, after kissing the kids goodbye, including Ella and Pascal, who had rented a suite downtown and wouldn’t be staying the duration of the visit here at the house, I locked up and went upstairs.

  I had a guest to attend to, one I still found hard to believe I had fucked to abandon less than an hour ago. It was like the fantasies I’d had of Priscilla, the ones that played in my mind every waking moment since that night, had manifested into the physical world, playing out in that bathroom downstairs.

  Did I feel even an ounce of guilt? None whatsoever.

  Dylan had never been right for her. I’d always known that. And thinking about it now a
s I unbuttoned my shirt right there in the hallway, tossing it to the floor on my way to where Priscilla was, I realized that no one was right for her. Only me.

  We were two halves of the same substance. Her yielding nature, my dominating one. Her giving, my taking. She thought of herself as weak, but I knew she was strong. She just hadn’t been shown the right mirror to look into. I would happily be the one to reflect her image back to her.

  I opened her door, stepped into the room. She had on what looked like one of my T-shirts. The hem barely brushed her skin at mid-thigh, showcasing those sexy as fuck legs. Pacing, her arms hugging her frame, she stopped and looked at me, wary of what was about to happen next.

  I kicked the door closed behind me. I walked up to her, grabbed her by the nape, and crushed my mouth to hers. She moaned and held onto my shoulders, pulling herself up to wrap her legs around me.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, pulling away, breathless, her eyes wild.

  “Oh, I’m sure.” I took us to the bed, where I hovered over her, immediately seeking her cunt. My fingers found her wetness. She was naked, completely naked under my shirt. I cursed on a growl and stood up to take off my pants, shoes, and socks.

  Her long thick hair fanned out behind her on the bed. With a grin on her face, she pulled the shirt up to her chin, showing me her beautiful tits, spreading her legs open, touching herself.

  She was a siren, teasing me, shameless. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought a dirty, little slut had been hiding in her along.

  I worked my cock as I watched her. Her brow scrunched up as she watched me back, her little pink tongue darting out as if she were desperate for a taste of it.

  My God, she was perfect.

  “I’m getting a divorce,” she said, still watching me work myself.

  “I know.”

  She met my eyes, defiant. “I’m going to travel. Go see the world.”

  “I’m sure.” I grinned.

  “I want to dance in the rain, on a beach, at midnight somewhere on the Mediterranean. Naked.” Her fingers dipped into her pussy, creamy and wet, then out again to circle her clit, faster and faster. She arched her back, her nipples hard as pebbles, and I had to force myself not to touch her. I wouldn’t dare.

  A pivotal moment of discovery was happening inside her. An awakening and it was beautiful.

  “I’ll book you a flight,” I answered.

  “Jeans. I want to wear more jeans, no more… ah! Shit… Oh, Mr. Love…. no more dresses.” Face lost in ecstasy, she came.

  Chapter Six

  Priscilla

  Just like in my dream, Trenton stood, holding his dick in his fist, pumping it, and eyeing me the whole time. He was beautiful, incredibly fit, and his hardness was thick, much bigger than I realized when he was inside me.

  I wanted to taste him.

  I had barely any experience with giving oral sex, let alone receiving it, but I wanted to learn. I wanted him to teach me.

  When I got off the bed, I took off the T-shirt Phyllis had given me and went to him, sinking to my knees. His dark eyes shone with so much feeling, his mouth tight as if in pain. I knew it was the sight of me at his mercy, on the floor.

  His free hand went to my head, lightly petting my hair. I placed my hand on his other hand, and he slowed his motions. With my tongue, I licked the head of him, where his fist barely touched. He hissed, moving his hand out of the way, all the while watching me look up at him.

  “Cilla,” he rasped.

  Oh, I liked him calling me that. I liked it very much. It sounded private, like a special word said only by him, which in a way, it was. For some reason, no one had ever called me anything other than Priscilla, even my mother.

  I took him into my mouth and suckled, growing used to the feel, the taste, the scent of him. Moving my hands to the back of his strong thighs, I took him deeper into my mouth, lost to this feeling of absolute control over him.

  Breath panting, his skin under my hands damp with sweat, he cursed. “You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  The thought was mutual, I wanted to say, but I was too busy exploring him. I wanted to consume him, make him beg, make him desperate. With my fist around him now, I mimicked the motions of sex, using my mouth to meet with each thrust of my hand. He pumped back in little jerks, seeming to be holding back. So much power emanated off of him, it was heady.

  I found a good rhythm and lost myself to the task of pleasuring him. When his cum hit the back of my throat, I moaned along with him, swallowing him down, down, loving and worshiping every bit of him.

  He pulled back, and with a pop, he removed his dick from my mouth, then grabbed a rope of my hair. “Come here, you.”

  I stood, letting him take hold of me. His mouth came down on mine, hard and cruel. I loved every second of it. He tasted me, tasted himself on my lips, his heart beating like a wild thing against the palm of my hand that laid flat on his chest.

  “God, Priscilla… there are no words…”

  “Mmm…” I kissed him back, just as speechless.

  Later, naked and curled around each other on the bed, we spoke of things that only intimacy can bring. His late wife, how lonely he’d been. I shared my own loneliness with him, too; how something had changed in me, about the enormous discovery I had made about myself, about my life and what I wanted out of it.

  We shared more in that night than I had ever shared with another human being. It was tender and real, and both of us commented on it, about how strong this attraction was between us, how fast and how… comfortable it was.

  It felt right, like something grander than us both had arranged it, clicking something poignant within ourselves into place.

  And as the night passed into morning, the feeling grew wings, settling in our bones until we knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that what we had found was true and part of who we were.

  “So, yeah. That’s the big news with me and Dylan,” I told Jessica on Monday morning as I sipped my coffee.

  We were at the café, having treated ourselves to a late breakfast after a slow morning. The coffee was heavenly and was helping me wake up. I had barely gotten any sleep since Trenton had taken me home and dropped me off the next day after the party.

  My house had been so quiet when I went inside that day, so empty. Dylan had left a message on our fridge, saying he was going out of town for the weekend on business and would be back Monday. Surprise, surprise. I spent the rest of the weekend cleaning out my closet and looking into finding a temporary place to stay.

  I was saddened at the thought of my marriage ending, but I had to follow my heart. Our relationship had all been an illusion, right from the very beginning. Neither one of us loved the other, not in the way that we should have.

  The bottom line was that I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I was leaving.

  “Oh, honey.” Jessica put her cappuccino down and grabbed my free hand. “I’m so sorry. I think you’re making the best decision, though. You haven’t been happy in a while. You’ve thought this out like an adult, listened, really listened to what it is you know you deserve, and my God, you’re doing something about it instead of what most women do, settle and hope it gets better. I’m proud of you.”

  I let out a big breath and smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  I was just about to answer when my phone chimed. I looked at the screen, saw who it was from, and sighed.

  “Dylan?” Jess asked.

  I shook my head and opened the text. It was from a travel agency, requesting confirmation on an upcoming reservation.

  Our wedding anniversary was in three weeks. To celebrate, Dylan had mentioned in passing about a trip to Italy. Looked like he had finalized that idea with the agency and had forgotten to tell me about it. It was just like him to do something on a whim, then absently forget.

  “No. A trip for two to Italy. The arrangements were made a month ago.” I clicked on the link but it asked for my password
.

  “Oh, man. Your first anniversary.”

  I looked over at my friend and smiled, letting her know that I really was okay. Then an idea hit me. “Hey, think you can handle work without me for a week?”

  Her lips pursed in thought as she caught on. “I think I can manage. Solo trip?”

  “Of course.”

  She grinned. “Do it.”

  “Yes. I’m going to. It’s Italy! Besides, it’s already paid for, and you know how I hate wasting things.”

  “Hmm. I hear Italian men make great lovers. You should get some of that.”

  I thought of Trenton then and my body immediately tingled. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I cleared my throat. “Um… actually…”

  She set her cup down. “Uh oh. What did you do?” Her green eyes widened. “Did you do something naughty?” she whispered. “Please tell me you did something naughty.”

  I nodded slowly, biting my lip.

  “Oh, my God. Who?”

  Thankfully, Clair de Lune saved me. I grabbed my phone and answered it before seeing who it was. “Hello?”

  “Cilla.”

  Just that one word set me on fire. I squirmed in my seat, forgetting that I was in a café with my best friend, who was narrowing her eyes at me. I ignored her. It had been over forty-eight hours since I’d heard his voice.

  “Mr. Love, hello,” I replied. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need to see you. Can you come by after work?”

  I turned away, tucking the phone closer to my face, away from Jess’s prying eyes. “I can do that.”

  “Perfect. See you then.”

  “Kay.” I hung up and nonchalantly faced forward again, picking up my cup and taking a sip as though nothing had happened.

  “No. Fucking. Way.”

  Nope, she wasn’t stupid.

  “Priscilla Anne Love, tell me that you didn’t.”

  I closed my eyes and hummed. “God, the coffee here is so good. I drank mine all up!”

  She gasped, reaching for my cup. I pulled away, laughing.