Dirty Dealers

She’s holding my arm, her body close at my side, as we make our way through the café that’s grown more crowded since we arrived. I like having her near me this way. It’s where I want to keep her always.

Outside she waits as I ready my bike. It hasn’t started to rain, but a fine mist is in the air. It coats her cheeks, making them glow in the lamplight.

“Rain,” she sighs, lifting her face to the sky.

I can’t help myself. I straddle the bike and pull her to me. “We need to talk,” I say, sliding my hand over her damp skin and cupping the side of her face before giving her a lingering kiss.

Her hand moves to my neck and she holds me, opening her mouth to deepen our kiss. My tongue finds hers and the smoky scotch I drank mixes with the faint sweetness of her. She’s delicious and sexy, and I want her with me tonight. I don’t want her in any position where she might slip away like Cameron said.

“Ride in front of me.” My voice is thick, and I help her straddle the bike snug against my chest.

I take a slow speed, extending the time we’re together, knowing I’ll have to head back to the palace soon after we reach her apartment. The noise prevents us from talking, but my face is at her temple. I can’t stop kissing her as we ride. I’m intoxicated and desperate for her. I breathe in the clean scent of her perfume mixed with the metallic flavor of rain wrapping around us. I kiss her head, and she tightens her grip on my arms.

When we arrive at her apartment our hair is wet along with our clothes. I don’t pull up at her door. Instead I guide my bike into the shadows, down the alley where we’re hidden from sight.

She sits straighter, arching her back against my chest and turning her head so our mouths can meet. She cups my face, and I hold her stomach, moving my hands under her wet shirt, higher to the lace of her bra.

Her skin is hot, her nipples peaked and straining beneath the fabric. I pull it down, squeezing her breast before pinching the beaded tip. She moans into my mouth as our tongues entwine.

I’ve pushed her bra completely up, kneading and teasing her breasts. She sighs and moves against me like a wave, her hips rock and her ass scrubs against the aching bulge in my jeans. I want to fuck her hard.

Our mouths part, and I exhale a groan. “Jesus, Sass.” I release her breasts to quickly unfasten her jeans. My arm is a band around her waist, and I lift her against me so I can slide my hand down her bare pussy and sink my fingers into her throbbing core.

“Logan!” she cries, rocking her hips against my hand. “Oh… yes…”

I can’t take it. I lift her off the bike and move us so her back is against the alley wall. She’s feverish as me, her hands moving over my shoulders and biceps as I frantically unfasten and lower my jeans.

A slight lift and a drop, and I sink deep into her clenching insides. We both groan, and I can’t stop. I’m driving faster, claiming her hard and furious. I hold her hands against the wall above her head, palm to palm, and our fingers twine. Her legs are tight around my waist, and she’s meeting every thrust I make, gasping and moaning.

“Logan,” she cries, and I feel the tremors of her orgasm start. It only makes me move faster.

“Come for me.” I lean into her, my mouth at her neck. “Come…”

I give her a kiss, a gentle bite, and she shudders. My hands go down, and I hold her hips, working her clit against my waist. It only takes moments before she shatters, jerking and arching her back to pull me deeper.

Her nails cut into the skin on my arm, and I hold her securely as she rides out the waves of her orgasm. My eyes close, and I don’t hold back. I release with a shout, riding the intense pleasure as her inner muscles massage and milk me.

She’s coming down, and I hold her so close. I vaguely feel her fingers on my neck, her soft lips kissing my cheeks, my beard. I can only hold her tight against my chest, my head resting on hers.

We stay that way several long moments, pressed against the damp brick, sharing our breath. I feel a drop of rain against my cheek, and I know the clock is ticking on my ability to stay much longer. I have to say this before I lose my chance.

“I don’t want you to leave.” It’s a low rumble right at her ear.

She starts to move, and I relax my hold, allowing her to stand on wobbly legs. She reaches down to straighten her clothes. I quickly do the same.

“I don’t want to leave.” Her voice is resigned. “But I have commitments. Old debts I have to repay.”

“I can pay your debts.”

Her head shakes and her eyes don’t rise from my chest. “You can’t. I have to do what I can to make things right.”

I don’t understand what she means, but my phone buzzes. I can’t stay any longer. “Let me walk you to your apartment.”

We leave the bike at the corner, and I go with her to the metal door. Once we’re inside, we climb the narrow flight of stairs. Again, I’m frustrated by the lack of security and poor lighting, although I suppose the amount of light makes no difference to her.

We reach her door, and she hesitates. For a moment she wavers, but then her jaw sets and she pushes the key in the lock. I glance around the tiny apartment. Against one wall, her queen-sized bed is neatly made, and against the other is a small table with two chairs.

“Very clean,” I say, and she seems to relax.