I light the candles around my tub, cut out the lights and sink beneath the water. Leaning back, I select a random playlist and fire up the blunt. The smoke is instantly calming, and I feel my muscles relaxing further with every drag.
My mind still worries with thoughts of me and Bryce, but they’re less intense. It’s easy to process them, come up with a reasonable solution and be confident in my conclusions without the added stress of “what if I’m wrong?” I decide from here on out, I’ll face all my issues while under the influence of Willie Hux’s finest weed.
Somo’s “Ride” fills the room, and I sing along—resting my head against the pillow as I close my eyes. My hand slips beneath the water, stroking my pussy. The flesh is soft, satiny and a delicious, warm sensation spreads through me.
I’m rolling my hips in time with the beat of the song. A soft moan escapes me, but it’s overpowered by the sound of a door shutting. My eyes fly open and my pulse quickens as I scan the room. I’m alone, but the doorknob to the bathroom is wiggling. Seconds later, I hear a click and Bryce appears through the smoky haze.
The candlelight illuminates him, and his shadow dances on the walls. He doesn’t look angry anymore, only curious as he takes in the sight of me smoking and my body buried beneath a mountain of bubbles—hiding my hand that lays motionless between my thighs.
Taking the blunt from my fingers, he pulls it to his lips. I watch as he inhales deeply, holds it in a moment, then releases on a slow breath. His eyes shine even brighter in the dim lighting—hungry and pleased at what he sees.
“I have to leave,” he says, his voice thick and filled with regret.
“I figured as much.”
He looks sad a moment, then his eyes rake down my body and his lips twitch. “You look guilty. Like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.” I’d laugh at his joke if I didn’t want him so bad.
“Come here,” I breathe, already feeling the saliva build in my mouth at the thought of what he might taste like.
“You givin’ out demands now?” He quirks an eyebrow, but I know he wants it as bad as I do.
“Would it help if I said please?” He doesn’t answer—just silently appraises me. After a few moments, he slowly closes the few feet of distance. By the time he’s next to me, I’m on my knees.
Looking up at him through my lashes, I slide my hands up his thick thighs. I unbutton his jeans, then lower them until his cock hangs heavy in front of me. I take a moment to appreciate its magnificence before fisting my hand around his shaft.
“You like that, babe?” he asks, and I feel a tinge of disappointment.
“Call me Love,” I whisper. His eyes darken and his jaw tightens.
“No hands, Love.” His command instantly has me releasing him and gripping the side of the tub. “Open up for me.” My insides clench as he fists his cock and I make a small O with my mouth.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that.” I part my lips further, relaxing my jaw and my throat in preparation for him. He grows harder at the sight of me on my knees, mouth open, matching his fiery stare.
His hand wraps around my neck, lingering there a moment while he softly strokes my cheek with his thumb. Then he slides it around the back of my head—fisting my hair as he pulls me closer to him.
Slowly he pushes inside my mouth. With only the head in, he pauses a minute and closes his eyes as my tongue caresses him. His lips part, and his eyes slowly open. He pushes deeper inside my mouth, not stopping until he touches the back of my throat. I force myself to relax further, urging him deeper until my eyes fill with water and I’ve nearly swallowed him. He pulls out and I take a deep breath, before he pushes back inside.
The sound alone is a turn-on for me as he fucks my face—quickening his thrusts as his fist tightens in my hair. When he pushes deep, I hold my breath until he pulls back—allowing me to breathe once again. The slight torture has me nearly dry humping the side of the tub. As bad as I want to slip my hand back between my thighs, I want to hold out even more. I know if I wait, it’ll be that much better when he does it. His fingers are much more magical than mine.
I feel him tense, and know he’s near. I continue to take him deep, and am sure to massage the bottom of his shaft with my tongue on every thrust. “Deep breath, Love,” he says, his voice still completely controlled even when the rest of him is not. I pull in a breath just before he drives to the very back of my throat—almost triggering a gag reflex I didn’t know I had.
His hot, salty come slides down my throat with ease. The sight of him in his weakest moment, the feel of his hand fisted in my hair and the guttural sound that rips through his chest is almost enough to have me climaxing with him.
The moment his cock stops pulsing, he withdraws it from my mouth—as if he feared I’d held my breath for too long. Hell, I could’ve lasted a lifetime. Just looking at him would be worth turning blue in the face.
“You have a pretty impressive head game,” he teases, but the shock and awe at what we’d just done is evident in his voice. His hand loosens in my hair, tenderly massaging my scalp as he smiles down at me.
I lick my lips and return his smile—pleased that he’s happy. To me, it’s as satisfying as if I were the one getting head, not the other way around.
“Did sucking my cock make you wet?” His dirty, erotic voice causes my sex to clench in need.
“Yes…” I hiss, dragging the word out as my hips buck against the side of the tub.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” Instead of answering his question that is obviously rhetorical, I give him a pleading look and grind my thighs together—sloshing water over the side of the tub.
Wrapping his hands around my arms, he pulls me to my feet. “Step out, Love.” He holds me steady as I do, my legs too shaky with excitement to function on their own accord. Spinning me so I’m facing the mirror, he grinds his hips into my ass. “I want you to watch while I fuck you from behind.”
I groan as I watch him in the mirror. His eyes are focused on his fisted cock as his other hand rests on my shoulder and urges me lower. My breasts hang heavy, my nipples grazing along the edge of the cold porcelain sink.
“So wet,” he murmurs, dampening the head of his cock before sliding it further up to the forbidden hole that has me tensing. “I can’t wait to fuck this sweet little ass.” Yeah…that’s never gonna happen. But even as I think it, I can’t control my body as it pushes back against him.
My eyes flutter closed as he sinks inside my dripping pussy. My walls quickly stretch to accommodate his massive girth. “Open your eyes,” he growls, fisting a hand in my hair and tugging my head back. I meet his gaze in the mirror, struggling to find the green pools that are hidden beneath his hooded lids.
I love when he takes me like this. Stripping me of all my power. Hands fisting in my hair to hold me in place. Powerful thighs slamming into me on every drive. “Don’t come, Love.” But his demand is too late.
A jagged scream rips through me as I come around him. He bites out a string of obscenities at my defiance, but quickens his pace—prolonging my orgasm. His touch, his talk, his thrusts are vigorous and brutal. They compel me to respond almost immediately.
His hand in my hair loosens as he stills inside me—flooding me again with his release. The thick warmth coating me brings on a whole new sensation. His body pressed against mine while he’s seated completely inside me makes me feel whole…infinite.
He pulls out of me, but the feeling doesn’t fade. Even though I ache at his loss, there’s something in just his presence that instantly replenishes it. I turn to face him, delighting in his warm embrace. Leaning down, his lips brush mine in a soft, chaste kiss.
“Never let a man treat you like you’re anything less than perfect. Because you’re not.”
Releasing me, he turns and walks out—leaving me staggered by his words. Like everything else he’s ever said to me, it registers with not just my brain, but my heart. It’s terrifying—knowing I love him and unsure if he feels the same. Yet oddly, it doesn’t matter. He’d just told me I was perfect. And even “I love you” can’t top that.
CHAPTER 27
Bryce wasn’t the only one to leave that night. Several of the men went with him on his quest to wherever. Luke was not one of them. He’d spent all of Saturday at the clubhouse, and somehow I felt like he’d taken Bryce’s place in watching my every move.
Midnight has come and gone, and now that we’re in the early hours of Sunday morning, I can’t help but think of my mother. Without any need for pain, I could give two shits about the bastard of a brother I have, but my mom weighs heavy on my mind and my heart. Is she okay? Does she miss me?
I know going to see her is a huge risk, but it’s one I’m willing to take. I plan to use my weekly pay to buy her a phone so I can keep in contact with her. At least that way, I’ll know she’s all right. And it will make this trip to Baton Rouge my last one, unless she needs me.
After asking Linda if I could borrow her car, I go to my room and start the process of removing my makeup. When my face is clean, I slip into my sweats and grab my small stash of cash from my closet. Just as I’m raising my window, I hear a knock at the door.