Page 129 of That Girl is Trouble

The truck jolts, and Preacher curses as he hits a pothole. I grab on to Kat’s ass and pull her down flush to my lap so she can feel what she’s doing to me. I move her hips back and forth, and she moans into my mouth. The sound sends a shiver up my spine, a twitch to my palm because the thought of pulling up this little dress and clapping my hand against the smooth skin of her ass is making me fucking feral.

“I missed these hands,” Kat teases.

My fucking brain must be all kinds of stupid right now, because without thinking about who’s sitting next to us, that we’re in a moving fucking truck, I’m pulling down the top of her dress and running my tongue along her tits. She dips her head back as I nip at the thin black material of her bra. I’m about a second away from unclasping it when Preacher clears his throat.

“Not like I mind the show,” he says, pulling my attention to him, where he’s got his eyes locked on the road ahead. “But it might be best if I don’t see this, uh, you know, just in case you get pissed about it later and try to kill me.”

I pull back, my eyes on Kat—face flushed, chest heaving, dress pulled down over her bra and creeping up her thighs.

It’s not like I haven’t fucked a woman in front of my men before, but I’ve never liked the idea of a man who isn’t me seeing too much of Kat. It’s why I went so damn crazy that first night I saw her on that pole. Tits out. A dozen men looking at her like I was looking at her, seeing parts of her that should have been reserved only for me. And after that, I couldn’t stop watching. Every fucking night, my eyes were on those cameras. I sat and stared at the hands on her that should have been my hands. I watched as other men touched what should have fucking belonged to me but what I was too much of a pussy to take for myself.

Until I took her for myself.

Now she’s mine. And maybe I don’t care all that much who sees this because I haven’t fucked her in almost two goddamn years, and I think I might go crazy if I have to wait any longer.

“Eyes on the road, Preach,” I warn.

He sighs but doesn’t argue.

Kat grins and pulls off my shirt, her kissing more frantic, her breath more laboured as I unclasp her bra and take her tits into my mouth. I push them together, squeezing them hard as I suck and lick whatever I can reach. Fuck, I missed her tits.

Kat arches her back in response, planting a hand on the roof of the cab to steady herself against the constant jostling as we move down the road. The urge to take her here, like this, Preacher next to us, our bodies smashing together every time there’s a bump in the road, is overwhelming. I’m starved for it. Every inch of my fucking body begs for it.

“Dude,” Preacher bites out, pulling my attention to him again. His eyes are on Kat, on her bare chest, on my hands palming her ass under her dress. “You fuck her in here, and I won’t be watchin’ the road.”

“You crash, and I gut you,” I snap.

Kat laughs, but it turns into a moan when I slide my fingers into her panties. And fuck. Fuck.

“Goddamn, Kitty,” I murmur, pulling her lips back to mine. “Always so wet for me.”

Preacher curses, but I ignore him as I move my hand back and forth over her slick pussy. Her clit’s already swollen, as if she’s been horny all fucking day. I circle it, and her hips undulate with my movements as she frantically grinds against my hand. There’s no holding back. Like me, she doesn’t give a fuck. She’s taking exactly what she wants. Chasing the thrill. It’s what gets her heart beating, what reminds her she’s still alive. It’s how I’ve lived since the first time they put me away, but Kat’s been livin’ like this her whole life. Doing what feels good, losing control when it feels right, and not giving a fuck who sees.

It’s why she doesn’t hesitate to tug open the button of my jeans and why she doesn’t stop to think when she reaches inside my pants and pulls my cock into her hand.

“Fuck,” I murmur.

Preacher’s hand tightens on the steering wheel, the vinyl squeaking against his skin as he shifts in his seat. He clicks on the radio and turns up the volume, his attention sliding back to her. His eyes meet mine, and his jaw hardens before he refocuses his eyes on the road. “Born to be Wild” by Steppenwolf plays loudly over his old speakers, but it doesn’t drown out Kat’s voice in my ear.

“Please? I need it.”

“Words, Kat. What do you need? Say it.”

“I need you inside me,” she rasps.

That’s all it takes for me to pull her dress up to her waist and rip her panties to the side.

She guides my cock between her legs, and god. God fucking dammit. The sight of it. My dick teasing at her entrance, stretching her, disappearing as she takes me, inch by inch, her body moving with the sway of the truck as Preacher’s speed kicks up a notch.

I almost fucking blow right there.

Closing my eyes, I dig my head back into the seat, my hands on her hips as she settles flush against me and sheathes herself completely on my cock.

This. I missed this so much. Her warm, tight cunt taking my dick so fucking well, like it was made for me. I pull her close, burying my head between her tits as I thrust my hips, stabbing inside her hard. She huffs out a loud moan that even the blaring music can’t hide.

Kat fucks me like she’s thought about it every hour of every day. Like she’s starved for it. Desperate. Like without it, she can’t breathe. I match her movements, pounding up into her pussy as she rides me. Small whimpers fall from her mouth with each punch of my hips. Wrapping her hair around my fist, I pull her head back, making her arch her chest forward so I get a perfect view of her bouncing tits as she slides up and down my cock.

“God, Axe,” she moans. She’s getting close—a deep crease forms between her eyebrows, her mouth open in a silent scream, her eyes closed.

---