Hard Ride (Men of Valor MC)

“I know, baby. You ready to imagine it’s my cock inside of you?”

“Yes, please. Not having you here with me is torture,” she pleads.

“Do it, Nova. Show me what you do to yourself when you think of me. Do you fuck yourself with one or two fingers?”

“Two. I like to feel the burn and what it would be like to feel you raking my walls with your cock.” She does as she says, two fingers disappearing in and out of her cunt, coming away with wetness.

“Fuck, yeah.” She thrusts her hips up, her palm working her clit while she tunnels her fingers in and out, her other hand going back and forth between her nipples, pinching them. I double my efforts on my cock because with the way Nova’s body is quaking with every thrust of her fingers, it’s only a matter of time until she comes.

“Nova,” I breathe out, my own body getting caught up in the rapture.

“I’m going to come, Gage.” She turns her head, biting into the pillow as her orgasm takes her. I watch the entire time, not letting myself come until she’s finished. I want her to see what she does to me.

It takes her a few more strokes of my cock until she pops open her eyes. “You didn’t come with me?”

“Not this time. I want you to see what you do to me, Nova,” I groan.

“I can’t wait to taste you, Gage, to lick you from the base to your tip, following down a path until I meet your piercing. You’ll teach me how you like it, won’t you?” That’s what tips me over the edge. Her name rips out of my chest as cum shoots all over my stomach and chest. My body falls back. The thought of her wanting to learn how I like my cock sucked was all it took to make me shoot my load.

“That shit will be happening, and soon, baby,” I tell her once my body returns to normal.

“I can’t wait. Thank you for tonight, Gage.” She covers her mouth when a yawn takes over.

“Nova, pretty sure I should be the one thanking you, giving me that gift. Fuck, but I can’t wait for more. Night, baby.” I know she has to work at the bar tomorrow. Today was her only night off for a few more days.

“Night, Gage.” I end the call, a smile on my face, my hand reaching for the pack of cigarettes on my nightstand. I need the nicotine after my woman gave me that. It’s gonna be a wild fucking ride.

6

Nova

“Daddy, I’m going to the bar. Tonight’s my last night until Monday. Don’t forget I have plans with Gage tomorrow night,” I tell him as he drinks a cup of coffee while he reads the newspaper. Yep, my dad isn’t one to read the news off of an electronic device. He likes it the old-fashioned way. It’s been the two of us for a while now. Mom split when I was on the verge of my teen years. Dad let her go. I think they were in a loveless relationship. Neither one of them ever talked about marriage the entire time they were together. It hurt at first, that she could leave me behind, but with time, that hole in my chest healed, and my father is definitely a rock. No matter how much work he had to do at the steel mill, he’d come home, make supper, and if I had something to go to, we’d be there.

The only horrible part of living with my dad—and now that I’m older, I get it—but when you’re sixteen years old, you never like hearing about your dad going on dates. They weren’t really dates, but he’d hang out around the clubhouse, which I’m sure is code for dates with sweetbutts. Gag me with a stick.

“I hear you. It’s been a long time coming, you and Gage, huh?” He folds the newspaper, eyeing me over it.

“You can say that again. Am I going to run into you?” I reply.

“God, I hope not. And if Gage takes you to the clubhouse on your first date, that’d be some bullshit. Even I’d wade in.”

“Oh, please, what’s good for the goose isn’t good for the gander all of a sudden? Hello pot, meet kettle,” I joke, but I don’t think Gage would do that either. It’s not that I don’t know what happens when the sun goes down. I’d just rather not know about it.

“Something like that, but no, I’m playing poker with the boys at Merk’s house Saturday. You know the drill. If you don’t come home, send me a text or call. I’m not going to wait till you get in to go to bed. Your dad is getting old.”

“Oh, sure. Have you met yourself, Dad? You’re forty-nine and drive a sweet-ass 1973 Chevy Nova. Women are gawking at you wherever you go. It’s all in your head.” I roll my eyes. I can’t count the times someone said, “Your dad is so hot,” in high school and even while working at the bar.