Page 54 of Drift
“Fuck!” I shouted when I slammed home, bottoming out in one push.
My pace was brutal. My hips pumped fast, hard, and purposely. There was nothing in my head except giving her pleasure and fucking my baby into her gorgeous body.
“Chance! Yes! Oh yes!”
Her cries fueled my desire, and the mattress creaked, the headboard hit the wall, and sweat dripped down my back.
“You can take more, baby,” I growled. “Know you can.”
“I want all of you, Chance,” she moaned.
And that was what she got. Passion mixed with violence, the edges smoothed just enough by love that they wouldn’t cut her. My eyes closed tight as every ounce of energy poured out of me, owning her slick channel, feeling every contraction around my cock, pushing her higher and higher until her voice was hoarse from screaming.
Finally, I felt her reach that pinnacle, the one right before she gave me everything.
“Together,” I grunted.
With a roar, I blew into a million pieces, come exploding from my cock and filling her until she was stuffed with my seed. My hips continued to snap fast and hard as I drew out our pleasure as far as it would go.
When the world finally began to knit back together, I collapsed on top of her and grinned. “Knew I could get you there twice.”
After a day spentin Alanna’s arms—and a lot of it buried in her pussy—I hated to see the clock reach the time when I had to leave.
I took a quick shower and moved around the room with purpose, dressing and grabbing everything I would need. She watched me put on my armor—cut, gun, ammo, knife. With each layer, I became colder. Harder. Becoming a man Alanna had only seen glimpses of. And she’d never fully see him. Jax wasn’t completely wrong in his thinking when it came to Alanna. I intended to keep her far away from the darkest parts of this life.
When I was ready to go, she padded over to stand in front of me and cupped my cheeks to give me a long, sweet kiss. Then she whispered, “Come back to me.”
“Always,” I promised, giving her one more brush of my lips.
No more than a few steps down the hall, I heard her yell, “In one piece, Chance Lawton!”
A grin split my face.Yeah, I loved the fuck outta that woman.
21
DRIFT
The night wrapped around the old office park. A strip of security lights buzzed overhead, throwing a weak glow across cracked pavement and tufts of grass that had pushed through the asphalt. In the shadows, the Redline Kings waited.
I crouched beside Jax behind a low concrete barrier, my knees bent and my boots silent against the gravel. Kane was ten yards ahead, hidden in the shadow of a column. Edge and Axle flanked the north side, their dark shapes cutting clean lines against the faint light. The rest of the crew was scattered around. Every man had eyes locked on the same target—the squat, blackened-window office building sitting like a tomb at the edge of the lot.
The only sounds were the hum of the server racks inside and the faint click of Jax’s tablet as his fingers moved over the glass. Blue light washed over his face, catching on the glint of his glasses. I watched his reflection on the screen—his jaw tight and eyes narrow as his mind ran a hundred miles ahead of the rest of us.
A faint static crackled in my earpiece.
“Motion sensors disabled,” Jax muttered. “Outer alarms too. We’re dark.”
Kane gave a short nod, voice low enough that it barely carried. “Hold until visual confirmation. No noise. No movement.”
We waited.
Then headlights broke the stillness.
A black sedan rolled in, slow and cautious. It stopped near the front entrance. Ethan stepped out first, with the same nervous energy he’d worn on every surveillance feed. Another guy followed, this one taller, wiry, and with a courier case clutched in one hand. The faint click of metal when he moved told me it wasn’t empty.
They shuffled toward the door and pressed something into a keypad. It flashed red, then green.
Jax smirked without looking up. “Gotcha, motherfuckers.”
