was pretty sure in that moment I’d start crying.
Rush didn’t give me a shot.
“And do not think I’m gonna let you be lazy. I get rid of this condom, baby, round two. I don’t know how it’s gonna go, but part of it’s gonna include you blowin’ me, so warm up that mouth while I’m gone. And get ready. With that brilliance as an intro, we’re gonna go all night.”
Only then did he kiss me, wet and rough and deep.
When he pulled away, he caught my lower lip in his teeth and took it with him, necessitating me going with it, and pretty much every inch of my body quivered.
He let it go, gave me a wicked, biker-boy-who-had-a-big-dick-and-knew-that-he-knew-how-to-use-it grin and he slid out of me and bed.
I watched him walk to the master bath he told me he’d redone.
I hadn’t seen much of him during our session, but I’d felt it.
It definitely felt nice.
But to his fantastic chest, now I could add visible proof of a great back, incredible thighs and an amazing ass that seemed even more amazing with my scratch marks and nail dents.
I turned to my side and hugged my legs into my chest.
I did not warm up my mouth.
First, I had no idea how.
Second, I couldn’t stop smiling.
“You want me to go get the tequila?” he called from the bathroom.
We’re gonna go all night.
“Yes,” I called back.
I was going to get my brains banged out by a beautiful biker.
So yeah.
Oh yeah.
I was still smiling.
Free and Easy
Rush
The next morning . . .
His phone ringing woke him.
Rush immediately smelled Rebel’s hair since his face was in it.
It smelled nothing but clean and felt nothing but good.
They were both naked, he was at her back, partially pinning her to the bed.
He had his arm around her, but it was Rebel who had his hand held loosely in hers, tucked between the bed and her chest.
The comforter had slid off somewhere along the way last night, so it was only his sheet that was up to their waists, tangled in their legs.
After a wild date that was good and bad, they’d had a spectacular night.
Tequila.
Getting loose.
And lots of phenomenal fucking.
She was a great lay.
Fuck, when bodies weren’t being dumped and she didn’t have shit jacking with her head, Rebel Stapleton was a great everything.
He’d learned a lot from his dad.
One of those things was, you find a redhead who did it for you, even if it was early in your relationship, if you knew in your gut that it was right, you didn’t let go.
So yeah.
He’d made his decision.
He was keeping her.
His phone kept ringing and he liked where he was so much, he didn’t want to move.
Rebel didn’t even twitch.
He grinned into her hair thinking this was not a surprise.
After the fifth time, he’d lost track of how many times she went.
And she’d wrung four out of him.
He didn’t think she’d get that fourth, but watching all that hair, that beautiful face, and those full, firm, sweet tits bouncing while she rode his dick with her tight, sleek pussy milking him, his body had no choice but to blow.
So she’d gotten her fourth.
And he had no problem giving it to her.
He could tell by the way the sun was hitting his bed it was not early and unfortunately shit was wired, so he couldn’t ignore a call.
On that thought and a sigh, he carefully slid his hand from her hold and rolled.
When he made the other side of the bed, the phone had stopped ringing.
Rush still reached to his jeans, dragged them to him, dug his phone out of the back pocket and rolled back into Rebel.
She moved then, making a little noise in the back of her throat and shifting against him.
He cocked a leg into hers, giving her some weight at her back to keep her where he wanted her, and pressed his morning hard-on to her ass.
She wriggled into it.
Nice.
Smiling, he turned his head, touched the screen on his phone, and saw it’d been his dad calling.
Shit.
The meeting.
He moved his thumb over the screen and put his phone to his ear, pressing more of his chest into Rebel’s back and resting his biceps on her arm.
“Rush,” his dad greeted.
“Hey, Dad.”
Rebel’s body went solid against him.
He grinned.
“Was leaving you a voicemail.”
Wasted effort and his dad knew it.
Somewhere along the line, his cell number had been fed into a marketing pool. He had more blocked numbers on his phone than miles on his bike. He didn’t even answer