Page 8 of Riding Through Life

KENSI

“Oh, shit.” I groan as Aftermath slams into me, hitting all the right spots. “Harder, Mark.” I moan as he drives into me. Sweat coats our bodies and my breathing is short and rapid. Aftermath licks and nips at the skin connecting my neck and ear and I detonate around him. Aftermath drives forward one more time, swelling inside of me as he bites the column of my neck. He empties himself inside of me. I’m a limp noodle when Aftermath pulls his softening shaft from my body and I shiver.

“Wow.” That’s all I can say when I stretch my body like a cat and rest my head on his chest. Aftermath's heart is beating hard against my ear and his breathing is short and rapid.

“I love you, Kensi Donovan. Soon to be Mrs. Kensi Jacobs.” Aftermath kisses the top of my head.

“I love you too, Mark Jacobs, my soon-to-be husband.” My lips linger on Aftermath’s chiseled chest and he grunts happily in response.

“Keep that up woman and round three will start any moment.” Aftermath threatens and it turns me on.

“I need a bath first. My lady bits are sore from the last few days.” I pout.

Aftermath has been very attentive for the last week and I am not complaining. I’m not sure what is going on inside his head, but if he wants to give me multiple orgasms in a day, I’m down for it. I trust him with my whole being and if it’s something I need to know, Aftermath will tell me. Otherwise, I’ll keep my mouth shut and my brain from working overtime and enjoy these multiple orgasms a day.

“With as much as I’d love to sink into you again, Tiger. You have to go to your dad’s house and if you’re late and smell like sex, he is really going to shoot my ass.” Aftermath swats my naked ass getting me to move off his chest.

I rise from our bed and saunter toward the en-suite bathroom. I glance at Aftermath over my shoulder, giving him my backside, which I know he loves and my best come hither look. “Fine. You can join me in the shower. We can get dirty before we get clean.”

Aftermath grunts before leaping off the bed and caging me against the wall. “What am I going to do with you, woman?” His lips are on my neck and my legs shake with anticipation.

“You can do whatever you want with me,” I respond breathlessly. Aftermath picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I slowly sink onto his growing erection as he stumbles his way into the bathroom. Moaning, I take him as deep as I can from this angle and work myself up and down his length. Aftermath starts the shower and carefully steps under the warm spray. We make love two more times before we get out and I leave to see my dad.

I’m driving my new Dodge Durango, Aftermath swore I needed, up the 401 on my way to see my dad. He is the Sheriff of a neighboring county and since he works weird hours, I decided to go to his house instead of him coming to the Clubhouse. I’ve done this drive a few times a week to see my dad since he moved up here and usually Aftermath is with me, but today he had club business to take care of. Only the Royal Bastard members know what that business entails and we Ol’ ladies are left in the dark. Or so they think. Danyella and Jezebelle can make their men sing like canaries when they really want to. I, on the other hand, sing like a canary when Aftermath gives me his sexy smirk.

I get off at the exit that leads to Cannondale Springs and take a left. I notice a dark blue SUV in my rearview mirror following a few car lengths back that exits the same time I do. I narrow my eyes and pick up speed. The dark blue SUV does the same. Motherfuckers. Is this seriously happening right now?

I take a sharp left onto a dirt road and take another right as soon as I can. Desert sand is kicking up behind me when I make a full circle back onto the pavement. I think I lost them as I hurry down to the quiet neighborhood and park my Durango behind my dad’s house and turn off the engine. My heart is hammering hard against my chest and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Those motherfuckers better not be who I think they are and mess with me or my dad. We’re both finally in a good place and the last thing we need is the fucking G-men to fuck up our lives again.

A knock on my window scares the crap out of me. “Holy shit!” I rest my palm on my chest, trying to calm my heart which is slamming against my ribs. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

My dad stands next to the door with his hands on his hips and a raised brow graces his handsome features. He is wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt that hugs his muscles, a baseball hat on backward and his no bullshit attitude. My dad is definitely a DILF with his tall and lean stature, salt and pepper hair, toned muscles for a man in his fifties and a smoking hot California tan. I don’t know why no one has snagged him up yet. I snort to myself, yeah I do know why. After my mom left and took my little brother, my dad has had major trust issues. “You OK, Lil’ Kay?”

I open the door and step outside. The air is crisp for late October and it stings my lungs. “Yeah, I’m OK, Dad.” Closing and locking my Durango, I peek around him and breathe a sigh of relief when I don’t see the dark SUV rolling by.

“Come on inside. I’ve made your favorite for lunch.” Dad smiles and shows off his straight, pearly white teeth. He knows something is up but won’t say anything until I do.

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup?” I ask with excitement in my voice. It’s been so long since I’ve had this childhood staple.

“With extra cheese,” Dad smirks.

“What are we waiting for?” I loop my arm around his and we walk up the back porch together.

Dad releases my arm and opens the door. I step in before him and the smell of buttered bread, cheese and tomatoes assaults my nose before I even make it through the back mudroom. My stomach growls in anticipation.

Dad removes his running shoes while chuckling and enters the kitchen. I toe off my shoes and follow him in my stocking feet. His kitchen is to die for. The one at the Clubhouse is high tech and huge, but Dad’s is small with all the latest appliances. A stainless steel refrigerator is nestled into the wall to make more space. The stove and dishwasher match the refrigerator on the opposite wall. There is a small window above the kitchen sink and a nook in the opposite corner with a big bay window, facing the rising sun. Black with swirls of green granite countertops are spread out throughout the kitchen with a matching island.

I sit down on one of the black stools surrounding the island and prop my elbows on it. Dad pulls down two white plates and two white bowls. After he dishes out the soup and puts two pieces of grilled cheese on the adjacent plate, he brings them over to me.

“Do you want water, milk or tea?”

“Water, please.”

Soon we are both enjoying our lunch and making small talk. Once the food is gone and the dishes are put in the dishwasher, we move into the living room.

Dad sits in his recliner next to the big windows that overlook the street. I take a seat on the fluffy grey couch. “Man, this couch is phenomenal. I need to get one of these when our house is done.” I groan, stretching. “I could use a nap now. I’m in a food coma.” I yawn.

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