He hoped to Christ that she did.
But, right now, fuck the future, he needed to be here. In the present.
She was spread on his sled and waiting…
“Ozzy…”
He didn’t want either of them to wait any longer.
“Give me your mouth,” he demanded softly. When she did, he parted her pussy with the throbbing head of his dick and slid oh-so-fucking-slowly inside her.
Yeah, it was like parting the goddamn pearly gates of heaven. That was what it was.
And he was invited in.
Lucky fucking bastard.
He glanced up and thanked the damn stars above, hell, the universe, for putting her in his path.
She was exactly what he needed when he needed it.
Just when life sucked to the point where he needed a change, she walked into his motel and gave him exactly that.
He dropped his eyes from the sky, closed them as they continued to kiss and he began to move…
Tight. Hot. Slick.
She squeezed him tight. With her arms around his neck, with her legs around his waist, with her cunt around his dick.
She broke the kiss and he wanted to take her mouth again, but she had tucked her face into his neck, her warm breath beating against his skin.
With one arm wrapped around her back and one hand on her ass, he helped hold her in place so he could thrust harder and faster. Deeper. Her thighs spread even wider, her heels dug into the back of his thighs and she tilted her hips so he hit her in all the right spots.
All but one.
“Keep going,” she moaned when he hesitated.
He wasn’t planning on stopping.
“Oh, keep going,” she cried out.
“Hang on.”
She clung to him as he leaned forward, stretching out his arm, reaching with his fingers, until he could push the Start button on his girl. He had to adjust his stance slightly so he wouldn’t be maimed by hot exhaust pipes.
When the engine rumbled around them, her eyes went wide. “It’s like a big vibrator.”
He tucked his hand between them and played with the Start button on his other girl. When he circled her clit with his thumb, she pressed her mouth to his throat, scraping her teeth along it. Planting her lips on his now damp skin, she groaned, twitching against him.
Her nails dug into the back of his neck and her other hand dropped to his bare ass to bury them into his flesh there, too, hanging on tightly as he pumped in and out of her.
That little bit of sharp pain mixed with the mind-blowing pleasure of being inside her tight cunt took him closer to the edge more quickly than he wanted.
Not yet.
He needed to hang on a little longer.
She needed to get to the end of this journey before him.
“Tell me what you need,” he forced up his throat.
“Just you,” vibrated against his neck.
“To come,” he clarified.
“Just you,” she repeated. She flung her head back and opened her eyes. The moonlight hit them just enough to make them shine. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “It’s been…”
He didn’t wait for her answer, he kept going, powering in and out of her. The clink of his wallet chain against his rear fender not the only thing making him grit his teeth.
Keep your shit together, asshole. Don’t fuckin’ disappoint her.
“Shay…”
“Please. Oh, please… Keep going…”
He fought the urge to rip open her blouse, to pop every fucking button off of it, to bury his face in her tits during the home stretch.
This woman was making him lose his goddamn mind.
Chapter Eleven
She was losing her mind.
It was all his fault.
Tonight was not how she expected her weekend to end. She expected to be in bed, in the air conditioning, and watching a movie before falling asleep.
Instead, she was half naked on the back of a Harley about to have her second orgasm with a man she only met the day before.
This detour had not been on her itinerary.
But, holy smokes, she rarely ever did anything spontaneous and sometimes she even backed out of events she planned months in advance.
Like her class reunion.
She had to push herself to pack her bag, to load it in the car, to put herself behind the wheel, to pull out of her apartment complex and to steer her SUV toward Manning Grove.
Every step had been a struggle. Every mile filled her with more and more dread like a rising tide. But she pushed on, reminding herself over and over this weekend was about stepping outside a box. Not just any box, but the one she had drawn around herself.
Luckily, she had drawn that box in pencil and this moment was proof she was capable of erasing at least one line. Maybe even more.
Because right now, she wore no pants or panties and a biker who belonged to an MC was pumping in and out of her. But not to get himself off—though, that would come eventually—but to get her off. Again.