My Bad (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 4)

I failed at both.

Why?

Because being inside of Pru, bare, allowed me to feel every single slick, beautiful inch of her. She was soft, wet, and tight. Three things that nearly drove me wild alone. Put together? It was a quick sucker punch straight to the balls.

“Goddamn,” I growled, unable to control myself as I slipped farther and farther inside.

My balls drew up, and I shit you not, I nearly lost my control and came on the spot. She was that hot and tight.

“You’re killing me,” she hissed. “Please fill me already.”

I grinned.

Her need had me regaining the fight over my orgasm, but only barely.

“Oh, God,” I groaned. “Don’t clench.”

She clenched.

Hard.

I had no other recourse but to fill her up, and this time there was no easing my way inside. This time, I slammed home, filling her completely, and nearly knocking her off her feet.

The only thing that saved her from taking a nosedive into the shower was my grip on her hips.

“Jesus,” she breathed, her head hanging and her hand going to the handicap railing that was across from her.

Whoever had owned this house before her had been handicapped, because there were quite a few convenient bars placed all over the house. One beside her bed, one in the kitchen, and one in the shower.

We’d made use of all of them.

“I’m going to come,” she declared as I pulled back. “Make me come.”

“Are you close?” I asked, unable to help myself.

“So close,” she admitted. “It’s right there. I’ve been thinking about this since I got into the shower. Please.”

The answer to my earlier question.

I smirked, liking that answer.

“Hold on tight,” I ordered.

Then I started to fuck her. Long, hard, aggressive strokes that filled her up completely each time.

Between stroke seven and eight she started to come.

By the time I followed, and she had my release spilling out of her body, I was soaked, and the water had run cold.

“Shit,” she shivered, turning the force of the spray away from her. “I need a bigger water heater.”

“I think you have a big enough water heater,” I admitted. “Most people don’t take hour and a half showers and expect it to still be hot.”

She snickered and watched as I took my drenched clothes off.

“Come in and join me,” she offered.

I declined. “Negative. I don’t like cold showers, and,” I gestured to my jeans, “I’ve already partially had one.”

She snickered. “That’s true.”

I stopped in the doorway while unbuttoning my jeans.

“Bayou and my club are having a going away party at Bayou’s house for me tonight.” I paused. “Brielle was supposed to tell you earlier, apparently, and didn’t. Do you mind if we go for a bit?”

She pulled the showerhead off the mount and lifted her leg, aiming the spray toward her pussy.

I watched as she washed my release from her and felt myself start to stir.

“Sure,” she paused. “Is there going to be food?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, baby. There’ll be food.”

An hour later, Pru was dressed, walking only slightly weird, and heading to Bayou’s with me.

“That’s actually kind of funny,” she admitted. “You really should cut her some slack. She hasn’t ever had to share you with another woman before, and she doesn’t know how to handle it.”

“As much as I like that you are okay with it, I’m not,” I admitted. “I’m annoyed that she’s putting you into this situation. Not to mention I came home today to find her ass sitting on Bayou’s front porch steps glaring holes at your house.”

“She’s fine,” Pru reiterated. “I can handle her. I promise.”

The problem was that I didn’t want her to have to handle Brielle’s bullshit. I wanted her to feel welcome from my family, and Brielle wasn’t doing that. She was doing the exact opposite.

Pru’s hair was semi-wet, and I played with a bouncy curl that fell right around mid-back. When I tugged on it, the strand straightened, and lengthened to right about hip level.

“Your hair’s a lot longer than it looks,” I admitted.

“Yeah.” Pru stepped up onto the curb and smiled at Castiel and Zee who were standing outside. “The curly hair deceives.” She waved. “Hello.”

Zee and Castiel nodded their heads at her. “Pru.”

She’d met most of the crew before, at least in passing, so I didn’t need to introduce them.

“How’re the stitches?” Pru asked Zee.

Zee turned and lifted his shirt, showing her the stitched gash in his side. “Better. Fucked my tattoo up, though.”

Pru tilted her head and studied it. “We had a man come in last week with a nearly completely severed hand, and the only thing he was mad about was that he would lose his tattoos.”

“Paid a lot for those bastards.” Zee shrugged.

Zee was a tough nut to crack, and there were times that I didn’t think he even liked me.

Sometimes it was actually quite painful to watch him interact with people. Pru seemed to handle his abruptness in stride.