All Dogs Bite (Club Chrome 2) - Page 8

“A trait I find very sexy,” he interjected with a lecherous grin that made her laugh even though it was highly inappropriate and made her blush.

“Shoosh. You don’t get to interrupt when I’m telling a story that makes me feel emotionally vulnerable.”

“Fair enough.” He pretended to zip his lip and then gestured for her to continue.

“Okay, as I was saying, being the big girl in a sea of perfect beautiful people makes you a bit of an outcast. I was just like every other girl — wanting to fit in. And when prom came along, I wanted to be asked just like the other girls. And when one of the most popular boys in class seemed interested in me, I was in seventh heaven. Can you already see where this is going? It’s pretty cliché.”

“Let me guess, you got asked to the prom but it was a fake invitation and you got stood up?” He supplied, a dark frown gathering on his brow. When she nodded. His fury was evident. “What a bunch of pricks.”

“But that wasn’t the worst of it. God, how I wish that was the worst of it. I was so embarrassed that I’d been stood up that I told my parents that I’d received a call from the guy and he wanted me to meet him at the dance. I made up some story about him having car trouble and I lied to my parents so they wouldn’t know just how pathetic their daughter was. I went to the local ice cream shop in my fancy dress and I could see the pity in the clerk’s eyes as I bought a scoop of every flavor. She could probably guess what’d happened, too but I didn’t care at that point. I spent prom night eating myself into an insulin coma. When it was all said and done I was so disgusted with myself that when I came home I took a bunch of my mom’s sleeping pills and just tried to end it all.”

“You tried to kill yourself?”

The memories of that time were crippling. She almost couldn’t continue but somehow she found the strength. “Yeah,” she admitted. “The only reason I’m here today is because Zoe found me the next morning and she called 911. I don’t even know how I was still alive but I guess it was pretty close. Afterward, my parents were so freaked out about my mental health that I was required to see a counselor for months after the incident. At first I was mortified having to see a therapist but she actually helped me. She helped me through a really difficult time and if it weren’t for my therapist I might’ve tried it again. I was so miserable. You can’t possibly understand how isolating it is to feel like some kind of freak just because you’re different. It affects your self-esteem, the way you look at the world, the way you see yourself and how you see other people.”

“High school is filled with pricks, assholes, and bitches.”

She chuckled sadly. “Yeah, you can say that again. It’s just so sad because it doesn’t need to be that way. How did we go from a culture that celebrated, you know, healthy curves to a culture that celebrates bones? I work in graphic design — I speak Photoshop. I know that there is no such thing as flawless skin and perfect proportions and there shouldn’t be but that’s what the media promotes and what they require when they send me work. That’s what upsets me the most about this business that I’m in. Were setting a standard for girls that can never be attained. It’s an endless cycle. Little girls look in the magazines and think what they see is real and then when they look in the mirror at themselves, all they see are the flaws that I airbrush out on a regular basis. It bothers me but what am I supposed to do? I have to pay the bills somehow.”

“We’ve all done things just to pay the bills,” he said quietly, shocking her with his solemn admission. Was he saying that he wasn’t proud of his lifestyle? If he could, would he change? He must’ve caught the flicker of hope in her expression because he shut it down pretty quickly.

“Look, what’s in the past is in the past don’t let it run your life. But don’t get the wrong idea about what I said. I like what I do, so don’t try to paint me as some poor, misunderstood hero.”

She frowned when she realized he was purposefully painting himself in a dark light for her benefit. “Why do you do that?”

“Why do I do what?”

“Every time you think I might think something nice of you, you shut it down by saying something terrible. I hate to break it to you but I know you’re not perfect, and I know you’re probably the worst example of dating material I could possibly consider but I like you. I like you a lot. If you don’t like me that way, just say so. I’m used to rejection. But don’t throw up smokescreens just because you think you’re trying to protect me.”

He started to say something but thought better of it. She didn’t know if his silence was because he was angry or because he agreed with her or because he just didn’t want talk to her anymore but the longer it stretched out, the more anxious she became. “I don’t mean to ruin the drive,” she said, hoping to clarify. “I like spending time with you. I know you’re not staying and I’m not trying to make you stay. I’m just telling you how I feel. That’s one of the things I learned from my therapist all those years ago. Share your feelings, communicate, you know?”

He nodded with a small, reluctant smile. “You’re not ruining the drive. I like spending time with you, too.” But he added with an apologetic shrug, “I just don’t want to lead you on. You’re a good girl, you deserve someone far better than me. And when I say that, I’m not trying to be falsely modest — I’m trying to be honest. A man like me would bring nothing but misery and heartache to a woman like you. I respect you enough to want better for you.”

“And what is a man like you? What does that mean?”

He shot her a quick look, filled with self recrimination and the ghosts of a past she couldn’t possibly know and said, “A man who would destroy a woman like you.”

“What if I said, I’ll take my chances?”

“Then I’d say, it’s not up to you to decide.”

The warning tone in Bronx’s voice silenced her protests. There was nothing she could say that would change his mind. At least not yet. And maybe that was for the best. He was telling her to steer clear. Maybe she ought to listen.

If only she weren’t falling impossibly fast for the man. Her feelings for Bronx were inexplicable but very real. She felt like a falling star plummeting to the earth, burning as it fell to its inevitable end. She’d taken reckless to the next level. She ought to pump the brakes but heaven help her, she was going to ride that burning star all the way to the ground, no matter how painful the eventual crash promised to be.

Yeah, it was reckless…and oh, so addicting!

-7-

Bronx cocked his arm out the open window and enjoyed the wind on his face. Delainey had flipped on the radio and had found a station that surprisingly they both enjoyed. They fell into an easy silence, like an old married couple who’d been together for an eternity and didn’t feel the need to fill the space with empty words. The little sedan was in good shape and it was a smooth ride but he missed his bike. He wanted to take Delainey for a ride and show off his sweet beast to the woman who was quickly becoming something more than just an easy target. Her story bothered him. The fact that she’d tried to take her own life bothered him more than a little. The idea of Delainey not being in this world, made the world seem devoid of goodness. The world needed more people like Delainey — kind, compassionate, generous. Quite possibly the world needed less people like him. The fact that she’d opened her arms to a complete stranger and not only helped him when he was most vulnerable but opened her heart to him as well, said more about Delainey then she realized. And now that he’d tasted her sweetness, it was all he wanted. Of course, that was problematic but he’d deal with that shit later. Right now, he was going to enjoy a day at the motherfucking lake with a beautiful, sexy woman.

Delaney directed him to the turnoff and within 15 minutes they were parked at her secluded spot with a glorious vista spread out in front of them. The lake was beautiful, blue with sunlight glinting off the gently lapping waters. It was peaceful and definitely secluded. Of course, the cynic in him wondered how many bodies had been dumped there bu

t the part of him that he’d thought was long-dead wished he’d been born to a different life. Hell, the last time he’d succumbed to self-pity he’d been a kid, being shuffled from one foster home to the next, each one more terrible than the last. The day he’d stopped wishing for a different life had been the day he’d shed his victim mentality.

Delainey was singing beneath her breath as she spread the blanket and opened up the picnic basket, stopping briefly to look up and blind him with the brightest, most adorable smile he’d ever seen and then went back to singing. Her joy was infectious. A reluctant smile found his mouth as he inhaled the sweet, clean air. “This place is great. You come here with your family or something?” he asked, picturing a Kumbayah Jones family outing with their 2.5 children packed into the family truckster for a weekend of wholesome fun.

But she surprised him when she shook her head. “No,” she answered with a sigh. “I found it on my own. One day I was having a little pity party and took a drive. I ended up here. I come here when I need some down-time. It feels like my own private little heaven.”

And she’d brought him to her sacred place. Her admission touched him. Never in his life had anyone gone out of their way to make him feel special. Delainey had just done that without having a clue. Something choked his airway and he was horrified to realize it was a ball of emotion as tears pricked his eyes. He looked away sharply to avoid meeting her gaze. He didn’t want her to see him blubbering over something so stupid. “It’s nice,” he said, adding because he had to, “if you like this kind of thing.”

She rocked back on her heels with a troubled frown. “You don’t like it?”

Good going, asshole. Now fix it. Just because you’re a royal mess doesn’t mean she deserves to be shit on. “No, not all, babe. It’s great. It’s just I’m not used to this kind of thing. I’m a city boy, you know? I’m not sure my lungs would know what to do with all this clean air. Might cause them to seize up.”

His small joke lifted the worry from her expression and she brightened, saying, “Well, sounds like you need more outings like this. Some people like the beach but I like the mountains. The beauty of the trees and the water…I don’t know, it refills my well, so to speak.”

“The well?”

“It’s what we creative people call that mysterious place where we find inspiration. When the well goes dry, you need to fill it back up again. For me, I find inspiration in the mountains.”

He’d never given much thought to the creative process because he’d never been particularly artistic but he respected the hell out of Delainey for her talents. It was just one more thing about her that intrigued him. “All that art you have around your apartment…did you make it?”

She offered a chagrined laugh as she shook her head. “No, I wish I were that talented. I just like to surround myself with art that makes me want to look twice at it. Do you think it’s weird?”

“It’s definitely different but what do I know about art, you know? I’m just a street thug.” What he held back was that he’d like anything she created. Everything little new thing he discovered about Delainey was another he found fascinating. He wondered if she was the kind of woman who would always fascinate him or if this she was just a novelty that would eventually fade in interest. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he discarded it. He couldn’t bullshit himself that hard. Delainey was the real deal.

She patted the blanket beside her with an engaging grin. “Come, sit. I won’t bite, I promise.”

“What if I want you to bite?” he countered with a sly smile and she giggled.

“Careful what you wish for, you might get more than you bargained for. My teeth are pretty sharp.”

“Not sharper than mine,” he said, lowering himself to a seated position and quickly leaning in for a kiss. He pulled away, snagging her gaze. “You can bite me any time. Anywhere.”

Her pupils dilated and she sucked in a tiny breath as she held his gaze. “You wreck me, you know that?” she whispered as he leaned in for another kiss. Yeah, baby. I know. If he were less of a selfish bastard he would’ve walked the minute he felt something stir in his heart but he hadn’t. And he wouldn’t. Not until it was absolutely necessary. She pulled away, her bottom lip glistening from his kiss, her eyes hazed with desire. “You know what else I like about this place?”

“What’s that?”

“There’s no one for miles.” If her slow, sexy grin hadn’t told him everything he needed to know, her fingers plucking at the buttons on her own blouse would. He watched with greedy eyes as she peeled her shirt free and tossed her bra. Her big, soft, breasts bounced into view, their wide, pink areolas quickly puckering in the mildly cool air, teasing him with their tightly wrinkled flesh. He cupped her tits, squeezing as his thumb brushed across the tips, causing her to shudder and moan. He claimed her mouth again, gently pushing her down to her back. Near instantly his cock was hard and aching, desperate to slide into that wet heat but he wanted to give her pleasure first. He loved hearing her soft moans and how her breath quickened and held as her muscles clenched when he hit the right spot. Sex had always been something he’d excelled at. He’d learned early that sex could be highly useful as a bargaining chip, a threat, a release, a means-to-an-end, and because of that, he’d endeavored to become very good at it. But even when he was totally into it, he’d always held a part of himself back — unreachable — as a protection measure. Except with Delainey. There was something about her that made him uncontrollable, insatiable. Her pleasure was his chief concern, his own, secondary. It was simply a bonus that being with Delainey gave him unparalleled bliss. So as she gasped and thrashed, her generous hips thrusting toward his greedy, marauding mouth as he ravaged her swollen little clit, begging for more, lust pounded his senses and obliterated anything resembling strategy, self-preservation or motive. He was simply with Delainey, in the moment, completely lost to the pleasure of fucking her.

“Ohhhh, Godddddd,” Delainey cried, startling birds with her keening cry as she came hard against his tongue. Her pussy clenched around his finger buried deep inside, roughly finger-fucking her G-spot as she tumbled into a second orgasm, practically screaming his name to the skies. She shuddered and her legs, splayed on either side of him, went slack and he slowly withdrew his drenched finger. Her pussy smelled of her and he couldn’t get enough. He slid his finger beneath his nose and inhaled deeply, knowing Delainey would find that embarrassing but he loved watching her blush. True to form, her cheeks reddened and she covered her face with her hands, saying, “Ohmygod, Bronx, that’s gross!”

“Wrong,” he corrected her, coming to kiss her hard so that she tasted herself on his tongue. “It’s better than chocolate.”

“Nothing is better than chocolate,” she returned against his mouth with a laugh and he pinched her still throbbing clit causing her to suck in a wild breath. “Okay, I take it back! You’re better than chocolate, I swear!”

He laughed and he rolled her on top of him so he could plunge inside her but she stopped him with a giggle as she reached for the condoms. “No glove, no love, Mr. Impatient,” she told him and he groaned. He wanted to feel skin on skin. He wanted to know his cock was buried inside her — no latex barrier between them — and even though he knew it was reckless, he wanted desperately to know nothing stood between them in this moment so he pressed.

“I’ll pull out,” he promised; hell, he’d say anything to get what he wanted. “I want to feel you — skin on skin — nothing between us. Please, sweetheart. I need this.”

She hesitated, the laughter fading from her eyes and he knew she was weighing the situation against her own desire. She wanted it, too. He could see it. And he was a bastard for pushing every button he knew but he had to have this. He didn’t know why. He just wanted it so badly he shook with it. “It’s crazy, I know. But I want you so badly, I can’t stand the thought of anything between us, not even latex. You know what I mean?”

Delainey nodded, her teeth worrying her sweet bottom

lip as she protested weakly, “What if I get pregnant?”

He didn’t have a good answer. She could get pregnant. And then what? Him? A father? What a fucking joke that would be. But suddenly, he was hungrier than ever to feel her soft, giving flesh closing around his hard steel. He sealed his mouth against hers, cutting off any further protest, any chance of reason, and when she was writhing against him, helpless against his sensual onslaught, he plunged inside her, nearly breaking from the sudden pleasure clenching around him, ricocheting down his cock and shaking his spine. He thrust mindlessly against her, deeper and deeper until he was surely banging against her tonsils and he lost himself completely. His mind went blank and his body took over. His Delainey, his woman. She was his forever. He didn’t deserve her but he didn’t give a flying fuck. “Baby girl,” he panted, his heart squeezing painfully as it thudded like a mad drummer on too many amphetamines, his cock a ramming machine into her soaked pussy. In that moment, she was the center of his universe and he was tumbling into space. “Oh, Jesus! Fuuuuck!” And then he blasted off, huge jets of semen bursting from his cock, soaking her insides and filling her up like a bucket under a faucet. He pumped load after load for what seemed like an eternity and when he was finished he could barely breathe. He collapsed to the side of her, breathing hard, eyes glazed and his body shuddering from the aftershocks of his epic orgasm. Never in his life — holy hell — what the fuck had just happened? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry —the words were trapped in his mouth, held captive by the firm press of his lips because he couldn’t say them when a part of him didn’t mean it. He wasn’t fucking sorry. If anything he was triumphant. His heart, if it could beat a rhythm, would’ve been tapping out a victory song. Which was wholly fucked up and he knew it. But he wasn’t sorry.

Tags: Alexx Andria Club Chrome Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024