Peppermint
Ifinish wiping down the counter and toss the dirty washcloth into the bin. There are only a few customers left. Davina clears a table, then joins me at the bar.
“Another great night,” she says, smiling. “I don’t want to speak too soon, but I think this place is a hit. And we’ll bring in a lot of revenue when we have our ladies’ night. It’ll help us be able to launder some large amounts for the guys.”
“Absolutely,” I reply, my eyes drifting over to where Dash plays pool with Bishop.
We have been open for two weeks, and the place has been packed. Jake made it clear to Skylar someone from the club would be here every night we’re open. At least until we know we won’t have any trouble. I doubt anyone is going to start anything here. The only thing I’m worried about is the cop who came to see me the other week. Ryder is still doing some digging on him, but so far, the only thing he has is he’s been an officer for about eight years, has an ex-wife and a kid who live in Huntsville, parents are both in Miami, and no siblings.
“Why don’t you go ahead and get out of here?” Davina suggests. “You’ve been here all evening.”
“Are you sure you don’t need to get home? I don’t mind staying.”
“I can stay and close up. My babysitter is good for a few more hours.”
I thank her and grab my purse from beneath the bar. I give Dash one last glance as I head outside. I’ve been watching him since he walked through the door, unable to keep my eyes off him. He did a few shots with Bishop, then they started playing pool. The way that man’s ass looks when he’s bent over to take a shot should be illegal. I admit, I spilled a few drinks looking at that lethal ass of his.
“Don’t get in your truck,” Dash says, stepping outside.
“And why not? You realize it’s two in the morning, and this is my transportation home.”
He grins at me. “That is your transportation.” He points to his bike. “But I’m not taking you home.”
I could play with him and go to my truck, pretend I’m going to get inside and drive off, but who am I kidding? I’m going with him. Absolutely. He climbs on his bike, and I get on behind him. We’ve spent nearly every night together for the past two weeks. He comes to my place after the bar closes. Sometimes he strips me down slowly, taking his time. Others, he ravishes me the moment I open the door.
But the sex isn’t the only reason I enjoy his company. He’s funny and sweet. He makes me laugh, and he definitely makes me feel good. He opened up a bit more about his family, telling me he supports his mom. Even supports his brother for the most part. He’s a good man, and I’m finding it harder and harder not to fall for him.
“Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer. I knew he wouldn’t. The next thing I know, the wind is in my hair as he races out of the parking lot. I didn’t put a helmet on, and neither did he. I know motorcycles are dangerous — very dangerous — but I’m completely safe with him.
We speed through town, which is pretty dead at this hour. Dash reaches up and grabs my hand, lowering it down to his crotch. We are on a freaking motorcycle. A moving motorcycle. And he is massaging my hand over his dick.
What happened to sex in a bed with the lights off? Like normal people. We haven’t even had sex in a bed, much less with the lights off. Even when it’s slow, it’s in the shower or on my couch or even my floor. When it’s been in my bedroom, I’ve been bent over my bed or against my wall.
Sex with Ryan was so different. We had two positions: him on top or me on top. He didn’t talk dirty to me. He didn’t spank my ass. Sex was good but not adventurous.
With Owen, the fact that I was sneaking around made that adventurous. The fear of getting caught. The excitement that he was someone new. A new experience. And it was incredible. He taught me so much about myself, about sex.
But this? With Dash? It’s incredible on an entirely different level. It’s because he’s someone new. A new experience. That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.
And I want to experience it all with him. Don’t want to shy away from the things he wants me to do. Don’t want to turn him down.
So, I unbutton his pants and reach my hand inside, stroking him the best as I can in this position. The vibration from the seat has my pussy thrumming, dripping for him. With a jerk of the handlebars, he pulls us off the road to a twenty-four-hour liquor store. I could certainly use a drink right now.
Riding around the back, he stops the bike, takes my hand from his pants, and orders me to climb off. My legs are shaky as I do as he says, him following behind me. He turns and rushes me, nearly bruising my lips with his kiss as he hauls me against him. My boots skid across the pavement as he walks us back to the building. Roughly, he spins me around and threads his fingers in my hair as he brings his lips to the nape of my neck. With his other hand, he unbuttons my jeans and shoves them down.
“You’re killing me,” he murmurs, snatching my panties down and spreading my legs apart. “Fucking killing me, Peppermint.”
I splay my hands out on the brick as he drives into me.
Fast. Hard. Relentless.
The security camera positioned in the corner records it all. Every thrust. Every gasp. Every kiss.
And I don’t give a fuck.