Page 38 of His Road Dog

"P-please." Her gaze lifted, and she held still, letting him smack his cock against her mouth. "Please, Michael."

He shoved his cock past her lips. She gagged, and just as quickly sucked on him tightly with a moan. Taking his hand off himself, he palmed the back of her head, thrusting and pulling out of the vacuum she created on him.

His jaw tightened. He fisted her curls, guiding her back and forth on him.

Breathing heavily, he plunged deeper until her hands came up and gripped the front of his thighs, pushing him. Staying almost in her throat, he let her mouth and tongue add the extra pressure. He let go, coming hard and forceful.

She struggled to swallow. The pressure intensified, and he groaned in relief.

Several seconds suspended, he came down on the heels of his boots, weak and satisfied. He stroked her head and pulled out of her mouth.

Her flushed cheeks, a sexy look, beamed up at him. He lifted her off the bed and put her on her feet. "Shower?"

She nodded, following him into the bathroom where there was only a small standing stall. He adjusted the water, stripped, and stepped under the stream— which hit him mid-chest. The cheap motel couldn't even put in a decent bathroom.

Making quick work of washing, he got out before the water cooled and let Nicole have her turn. Grabbing his duffle, he took the extra clothes he always carried out and got dressed. Then, he shoved his dirty clothes in the end and put his bag by the door.

Needing coffee to get going after no sleep and the last two hours wrapped up in Nicole, he went to the mini-fridge. There was nothing in there. The short counter on top was bare.

The shower shut off. He scratched his chest. She needed to eat, probably more than him.

"Nicole?"

She walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head and one around her body. "Yeah?"

"What do you eat in the mornings?"

"The sack on top of the dresser has food in it." She walked over to her suitcase and removed clothes.

He pulled out a box of cereal. It looked like some kind of granola crap. Looking deeper in the sack, he found two carrots, apples, fruit roll-ups, peanut butter, honey—in a bear-shaped bottle, and a can of olives.

"This isn't food. You don't even have milk." He set the box down.

She laughed. "You can eat the cereal without. Spread some peanut butter on apple slices and pour the cereal on the pieces. There's a knife in the cup in the sink."

"Why don't you get dressed. I'll take you over to the clubhouse, and we can eat breakfast there while I check with the guys. Afterward, you can go back to my house with me." He grabbed his leather vest.

She stared at him, not moving. He grabbed his bag and headed toward the door.

"I need a smoke. I'll wait outside for you," he said.

"Priest?"

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for last night and this morning." Her eyes warmed. "But I'm not going with you."

"Why not?"

"It just doesn't feel right." Her naked shoulder lifted in a shrug.

His neck tensed. "Because of what we were doing?"

"No," she said softly. "That was wonderful."

"Then what is it?" He let go of the door handle. "All I want to do is take you to have a damn breakfast."

Her chest expanded under the towel. "Maybe another time."

"Nicole." He exhaled harshly.

She faced him, not changing her mind. He dipped his chin and walked out. Lighting a cigarette, he went to his Harley and fastened his duffle to the seat.

A woman had never stopped from going with him when he'd asked before. There were more than enough women at the clubhouse who would give their left tit to be with the president of Tarkio. They all knew what they'd gain if he claimed one.

Hell, he wasn't claiming Nicole. It was fucking breakfast. Everyone had to eat.

Checking his watch, he started his motorcycle and let it idle. In three minutes, a Tarkio member would show up to look after Nicole for the day. Once he filled his belly and got a cup of coffee, he'd decide what his next step was going to be.

---