Page 21 of Desert Loyalties
"Oh, God" I can't help but moan as he pistons in and out of my pussy.
Instead of slowing down, my moans egg him on. He raises my left leg, damn near my shoulder, and fucks me in long, deep, strokes. I've never felt so full, so complete. His body moves like a well-oiled machine, not faltering for a second.
"Fuck, I'm already close" I moan, reaching out to grab a hold of his wrist.
He leans forward and bites my nipple, sending my body into spasms. I close my eyes, arching my back, and scream. My entire body feels like it's exploding. I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. "Again." His hand slides into my hair, fisting it as he fucks me harder and harder.
He lets out a roar, fuckin’ me into the mattress, the bed is banging against the wall. Oh, oh, it feels so fuckin’ good. He angles his hips and his cock starts hitting my sweet spot with each thrust.
Drake clenches his fist in my hair, "Look at me." I didn't even realize my eyes had closed. Staring into my eyes, still thrusting he bends his head and bites my lower lip sending me tumbling to a mind-blowing climax. Letting out a groan, loud and low he stills, coming deep inside me.
He leans forward, letting go of my hair and wraps his arms around me, rolling us over so I'm lying on top of him.
We stay like that for a few moments, just breathing, trying to come down from our highs. We're both sticky and sweaty, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I lean up and kiss his neck, his cheek, his chin. I kiss the corner of his mouth, his lips. He kisses me back. This is our moment, no one can take it away from us.
I must have jinxed us.
Because the next day, Drake’s phone starts ringing. The shrill sound shatters the silence, yanking us out of the sleep we had just fallen into. My body aches in the best way, sore from the many times we’d reached for each other through the night, but I barely get the chance to enjoy it before reality slams back in.
Drake answers the call, his voice a gravelly mutter, sharp with tension. I can’t hear the other side, but the way his jaw clenches tells me enough. He hangs up with a clipped, “Fuck.”
Then he’s moving; grabbing his jeans, yanking them on, his whole body buzzing with quiet rage. He tosses my clothes toward the bed.
“Get dressed.”
I sit up, clutching the shirt to my chest. “What happened?”
“The DEA just raided the clubhouse.” His voice is flat, cold. Controlled, but barely.
My stomach drops. “What?”
“Ranger called us in.”
I blink. “Us?”
Drake stops, turns to look at me. “Yeah. Us.”
I’m quiet. Processing. The air between us hums with the weight of what that means.
Then he says it with his eyes locked on mine, voice low. “You ready for this?”
I swallow hard. My pulse is racing. My head says run. My gut says scream. But my heart, my heart looks at him and knows he’s the only solid thing in a world that keeps shifting.
“No,” I admit, honest and raw. “But I trust you.”
His gaze softens for a fraction of a second. Just a flicker. Then he nods and grabs his cut off the back of the chair, slipping it over his shoulders.
“Then let’s go.”
The ride to the clubhouse feels longer than before.
In another life, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be the youngest child of a wealthy couple, the one with the big heart. I’d be the spoiledbaby of the family. I might’ve even become a doctor; I had the affinity for it.
In movies and books, they love to talk about the “smart kids” who work their way through high school, land full scholarships, and graduate debt-free. But the truth? It’s not that simple. Even smart kids need time to study. Even smart kids need sleep.
Junior year, I was taking AP classes, working two shifts as a server. Then I’d head back to the crappy trailer I called home, crawl into a bunk bed not even long enough to stretch my legs and study. I don’t think that mattress was meant for humans, but it was all I had.
Ever tried to study next to a raging party, cramped into a space so small you can’t even stretch out your legs?
