It Happens (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 6)
I felt the exact same way.
“Take off your jeans,” I ordered. “And hurry.”
The women’s restrooms were popular places. I bet we had two minutes tops before someone was knocking to be let in.
She did as she was asked, shucking her jeans so fast that she’d already had to be thinking of the fastest way to get them off.
Hell, even her freakin’ shoes were off and laying precariously on top of each other in her haste to get them removed.
She threw herself back at me, and without a second thought, I had her back in my arms and her back resting up against the tile once again, my body pinning hers into place.
“Condom?” she breathed.
I reached back into my wallet and extracted one, ripping it open with my teeth as I fumbled with my fly.
Moments after it was unzipped, I was rolling the condom down my length while also holding her up.
I could tell that I hadn’t done as good of a job as I should have, but before I could put her down and fix it, she was reaching for my cock and fitting it to her entrance.
Seconds later, she was sliding down my cock and I was cursing up a storm because I wasn’t even sure I’d need two minutes.
Thirty seconds, max.
She cried out, and I leaned forward and captured her mouth with mine once more, trying to keep her exclamations to a minimum.
There would be no doubt what we were doing in here if she was screaming loud enough for everyone to hear her.
“Gotta be quiet,” I murmured against her lips. “And I hope you’re ready because you have about thirty seconds before I come.”
She returned my kiss and then screamed a little when I pulled all the way out of her and slammed back inside.
Her nails dug into my back, and her surprisingly strong thighs tightened around my waist.
“Four more of those,” she breathed harshly. “And I will.”
She was wrong.
It took her three.
On the third stroke, the minute I hit the end of her, she threw her head back and screamed.
It was only my hand over her mouth that caused the McDonald’s next door to not hear her.
I followed shortly after, thankful that I’d taken her there, because I really hadn’t come that hard or fast since I was a teenager.
“Fuuuuck,” I growled, low and guttural. “God, you feel so good.”
There was a reason she felt so good, too.
That was revealed the moment I pulled out and saw that my dick was no longer sheathed in a condom.
I cursed and reached for the paper towel dispenser, waving my hand around in front of it.
It was one of those motion detection ones that spit out like a quarter of the amount of paper towel that you’d actually need.
“Fuck,” I growled in frustration. “I hate these stupid fuckin’ things.”
She giggled and took the measly amount that I’d been able to get from the machine and covered herself.
“I wonder if our first time was like that,” she said curiously.
“Fast and furious?” I wondered.
She nodded. “That, and so explosive. I don’t remember much, only bits and pieces.” She paused, her face flushing, and I looked on as she reached down and produced the condom from inside of herself. “I’m clean.”
I snorted. “I know that you’re clean,” I countered. “And I am, too.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You telling me that is about the same as me telling you,” she pointed out.
I supposed that it was.
“I’m more worried about producing a kid,” I pointed out.
She flushed again, then her eyes took on a faraway look.
“That’s probably not possible, anyway,” she said softly. “The lightning? It did a lot of damage. I haven’t had a consistent period since it happened. The doctor thinks that it’s likely I’ll never carry…or be able to carry any baby to term if I did happen to get pregnant.” She looked at her scarred hand. “So yeah, the scarring here is definitely not the worst part.”
I hadn’t thought about that.
“I wonder if my sperm count is lower?” I asked. “You know, they asked me when I was younger if I wanted to have that tested, but I hadn’t cared much at the time.”
I reached down and zipped myself up, making sure to be careful with my cock that was still half-hard.
She reached down for her pants as I started to walk to the sink to wash my hands.
“I guess the only way you’re gonna know the answer to that is to get tested,” she said. “But, I guess it’s not like knowing is going to change anything. You either can or you can’t. At least, that’s what I try to tell myself.”
I thought about that for a long second. She was right and had a good point.
“If you were affected, I don’t see why I wouldn’t be affected,” I told her as I reached once again for the paper towels. This time it gave me a little smidge of a towel that would be good enough to wipe one finger off, and one finger only. “I don’t understand why you get normal amounts of useful paper towel, and I get nothin’.”