Club Princess - Nicole James Page 0,32

she orgasms a second time, and I explode, filling her, my forehead pressing to hers.

When I regain my breathing, I lower her shakily to her feet and wash her tenderly all over again. Then I rinse her, towel her dry, and carry her limp body to bed.

I give her a short reprieve, and then climb on top of her, and fuck her all over again. Finally, I collapse on top of her, after another mind-blowing orgasm.

I brush the hair back from her face, and stare into her unguarded eyes.

“Beautiful, princess. Fucking beautiful.”

She smiles, an exhausted, serene look on her face, too tired to speak.

I sprinkle kisses around her jaw. “The way you’ve been with me, first the tough girl, hiding her tears, denying them, then the smiles and laughter when you let your guard down, and dragging me to that carnival, showing me how to have fun like a child… you’re not like any girl I’ve met before.”

I kiss her forehead, and move off her, tucking her to my front and spooning her, my arm tight around her waist. I fucking love the feel of her skin pressed against mine. I take a deep breath, exhaustion from hours of sex and the endless miles we logged today, all catching up with me. I fall into a deep slumber with the scent of her skin and the rise and fall of her breathing lulling me under.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lola—

The next day is warm and sunny, and we’re making good time. It’s late afternoon, and we’ll be home by tonight. God, I dread going back. Not because I don’t want to go home, but because it will mean my time with Memphis will be over.

He told me he may pass through Durango again sometime, but I know we’ll never again spend days together, just the two of us like this.

We’re in the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains just north of Cuba, New Mexico. We crest a rise. It’s greener here as we climb higher in elevation. Tall pines tower on both sides of the highway.

It’s a beautifully scenic ride, and being with Memphis on his bike, I’m enjoying every minute of it.

Suddenly I feel him shift, his boot hitting his foot brake, and his hand squeezing the hand brake. The sudden slowing of the bike has my weight pushing against his back, and I tighten my hold, peering around him. Up ahead, a deer darts across the road causing the vehicle in front of us to swerve, lose control, and veer across the oncoming lanes, nearly missing a guardrail before disappearing down a slope.

Memphis pulls quickly to the shoulder, and we both scramble off, tearing our helmets off.

A tractor-trailer crests the hill, and barrels past, blaring its horn, unaware of the accident. As soon as it passes, we dash across the lanes to peer in the ravine.

The sedan has plowed through brush, and is wrapped against a tree, turned on its side, its wheels still spinning, and chemical dust from the deployed airbags filling the interior.

Memphis rushes down the slope, yelling back to me, “Call 911, Lola.”

I pull my phone out of my jacket, and frantically make the call.

The operator asks what the emergency is, and I spot a mile-marker, and give her our location, requesting an ambulance. She asks about the injuries, but I have no information for her. I don’t even know how many occupants there are. I suddenly hear the cries of a baby.

I peer down.

The engine is smoking, and flames lick out from under the hood.

Memphis wrenches the driver door open, and yanks a woman up and out. Her leg looks broken, and as he sets her carefully on the ground, she begins screaming for her baby, lifting her arms toward the car.

Memphis dashes back, and battles to free the back door. The flames are growing higher when he finally gets it open. He struggles with the straps of the car seat, all the while the baby’s cries grow louder, and black smoke blows over him.

Finally, Memphis lifts the infant from the car, and staggers back to the mother. I hear him asking loudly as the flames grow, “Are there any more children in there?”

The mother shakes her head, clutching her infant.

Memphis grabs her under the arms, and drags her back from the vehicle just as the gas tank explodes.

He dives; covering them both, and I duck down behind the guardrail.

By now the black smoke is billowing to the sky, and other cars are stopping.

A woman runs to