Page 32 of Loving Smoke

I reached for the bedside table, yanked open the drawer and pulled out a strip of condoms, tore one off, then ripped it open with my teeth. I sheathed myself, and leaned over until my lips were inches from her ear.

“You ready for me, babe?” I wanted to hear her say it, I needed to know she was still as into it as I was.

She answered by arching her back and wiggling her fine ass, then she turned her head and mumbled, “Yes, do it, now.”

That was all the encouragement I needed. I pushed back onto my knees, gripped her hips and slid home.

“Fuuuck!” Her pussy swallowed my dick and I held her hips tighter as I pumped her from behind.

I wanted to start out slow but my body took over and there was no controlling the absolute pleasure rocketing through my veins. Like the strongest drug she hit my bloodstream and heated me from the inside out.

Swear to fuck my vision blurred and little sparks of light shot through my brain. The air in the room crackled with the tension sparked from need and want. I never denied myself what I wanted with advancing the club or with women, but this wasn’t about keeping score or adding notches. Whatever this woman did to me bordered on unique, something I’d never experienced—and fuck knows I’d experienced it all.

I pounded harder wanting to get deeper, wanting to own her, and know her, and feel every part of her. I smoothed my hand up her back over her spine, then brushed her hair to the side. My lips devoured the soft skin of her neck. She angled her head toward me and I captured her lips again as I rode her from behind.

When I nipped her lower lip she moaned into my mouth and I lost all control. Easing up I slid my hand to her core finding her clit and teasing it between my fingers. I moved my thumb in small circles keeping time with the rhythm of my hips. Her soft whimpers grew to demanding moans louder and louder as her head thrashed against the pillow. We were both so close, but fuck I didn’t want it to end. I never wanted this glorious out-of-body release to end.

I pinched her clit and she exploded with a groan drawing my cock deeper with every pulse of her body. The aftershocks consumed me and I had no choice but to give up my fight. Let my body float to another place where club grudges and bad blood didn’t exist. A blissful place I knew only existed while I was deep in Marisol’s body.

Collapsing to her side I held her close not wanting to let go of her—or this moment afraid any movement would break the spell surrounding us. We laid in each other’s arms, hearts beating, ragged breathing, not able to move.

“This would be so easy, if it wasn’t so fuckin’ hard.” The words fell from my brain and slipped out of my mouth before I realized it.

She cocked her head. “I wasn’t expecting philosophy from an outlaw biker who owns a strip club in Tijuana.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Me either.”

“What did you mean?”

I shrugged confused by my moment of emotion, and not even sure what I meant.

“You mean this is hard because I work for you?”

“Okay.” I’d come to my senses enough to give her a tough-guy response. A pussy move, for sure, but what choice did I have? Whatever this was would be doomed from the beginning. I was down here to get shit done with Sandoval and clear my name with the Royal Bastards which didn’t include any distractions—especially with this delicate flower.

She shifted and propped herself up against the pillows. “I get it. This was a one-time thing.”

“Right.”

“And it can’t happen ever again.”

“Right.”

“Because you’re my boss and it would be awkward and certainly not professional.” Marisol swung her legs over the bed. “Because the right thing to do would be to stay far away from each other.”

“Exactly.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and hauled her tight against me. “But fuck me, I’ve never been known for doing the right thing.”

I nuzzled her neck and she tried to wiggle away from me. “What are you doing? You just said we can’t?—”

“Fuck what I said. Give me a few more minutes and I’m gonna be sinking into your sweet body again.”

Two loud knocks on my door filtered through to the bedroom. “What the fuck?” I mumbled against the soft skin of her neck.

I rolled off the bed, grabbed for my tequila-soaked jeans, and tugged them on. As I headed for the door realization hit. I just fucked a woman I definitely shouldn’t be with who could wreck me with her pouty lips.

I yanked the door open to Blood’s pissed off face. “What the hell are you doin’?” His nose flared. “You smell like you downed a bottle of tequila.”

I motioned to my jeans. “A bottle broke and I came up to change.”

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