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Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(66)

By:Meg Jackson


"Taste me, sweetheart," Honey whispered, feeling the girl's hot breath  against her clit. She reached down and gently tugged at one of her  blonde locks, encouragingly. Georgia looked nervous but curious as she  looked down at Honey's exposed mound, her fingers now stalled in their  roaming.

She leaned forward and gently kissed Honey's clit, making it jump and  quiver. Honey thought she might break in two from the way the girl was  teasing her, holding back, making her wait. If she didn't know better,  Honey would have thought the torture was on purpose. She whimpered, her  hands gently combing the girl's hair, putting the slightest pressure on  the back of her head.

With a rush of electric pleasure, Honey's efforts were rewarded as the  girl tentatively stuck her tongue out and ran it along Honey's clit.

"Oh, yeah, baby, just like that," she cried out, and Georgia repeated  the move, lapping at Honey's clit as it strained forward from its hood.  As though inspired by Honey's reaction, she began to lick faster,  experimenting with different speeds and angles, now circling it, now  flicking it gently.

Honey felt her blood turning slow and molten as her desire rose, her  pussy begging for attention, her face enflamed. She hadn't realized how  horny she was until Georgia's tongue began to lick her sensitive button,  how it was so tender it almost hurt as Georgia rolled it between her  lips and hummed against it playfully.

"Oh, baby, that's so good," Honey moaned encouragingly, hoping the girl  would take it a step further. Her hopes were not in vain. Bolstered,  Georgia pressed two fingers against Honey's dripping slit.

"Can I fuck you like this?" Georgia suddenly asked, pulling her face  away; Honey looked up and couldn't help but smile at the worried look on  the girl's face.

"Please fuck me just like that, baby" she said, her hips automatically  raising as her body cried out for stimulation. She raised her hands to  her own breasts, pinching her sensitive nipples as she moaned, Georgia's  tongue once more finding her swollen clit and lavishing attention upon  it.

Honey felt her thighs quivering around the girls' head, felt her body  heating up one degree at a time, her nerves dancing and snapping inside  her. With a satisfied groan, she felt Georgia push her two fingers  inside Honey's pussy, as deep as the knuckle, and began to stroke her  inside, gently thrusting back and forth. Honey's hips arched, and  Georgia's fingers plunged further into her cunt, her tongue never  leaving Honey's clit.

"Fuck me, yes, baby, oh fuck me," Honey moaned, wanting the girl to  never stop, feeling her pleasure rising and rising inside her like a  ship on a tremendous wave. The girl began to fuck her harder, faster,  her fingers darting in and out while her tongue lapped and sucked at her  clit. Honey kneaded her own breasts, tweaking the nipples violently,  her muscles straining to the point of snapping as pleasure engulfed her.         

     



 

The wave crested, broke, and Honey felt herself trembling as her legs  snapped shut around the girl's head, her silky hair against Honey's  thighs like a cool compress to her skin as she bucked and came  underneath the girl's tongue and around her probing fingers. Honey felt  her orgasm shaking her body to its core as she peaked and then slowly  fading, leaving her buzzing and humming with pleasure. Releasing her  thighs, she sighed happily and let her head roll back further against  the pillow.

"Oh, girl, you're a natural," she said. Georgia giggled and wiped her  mouth as she pulled away and crawled up to join Honey in the bed. Honey  extended her arm, inviting the girl to nuzzle into her. She did, and  Honey let the sweet smell of Georgia's hair fill her nostrils. She liked  this girl quite a bit. She hoped she'd stick around. If she did, Honey  would take good care of her, make sure none of the men roughed up her  heart. If they did, she'd always be welcome to come heal in Honey's bed.

As she drifted off once more, listening to the gentle breathing beside  her, the sunlight streaming in over them, illuminating their soft curves  as they lay in the bed, Honey's mind lagged once more, tripping over  that unsettling feeling that had plagued her upon waking.

With a sudden start that shook Honey's whole body, her eyes popped open.  Somehow, it didn't disturb the sleeping figure beside her. She  remembered now what she'd see the night before. A stranger, though not a  stranger, really. He'd been in the bar for a few days … she hadn't  noticed anything odd about him at first but … but last night …

Yes, last night. He'd done something odd. She'd noticed him first  staring at Reign and the little thing he was trying to help, then again,  when she was outside after Reign had rode away. She'd seen the man  slinking off towards the motel. But he wasn't a guest. There were only  three people even staying at the motel, and he wasn't one of them. And  he'd been headed straight for room 7.

Honey's stomach flipped. She cursed herself now for having drank too  much, for being too wasted to notice just how suspicious all that was.  She could sense trouble a mile away, but it had been sitting right in  her own damn bar and she hadn't done a thing about it. There was  definitely something up with that stranger, and it definitely had  something to do with that Gabriella girl.

I told Reign she'd be trouble, Honey thought, her contentment draining  away as she tried to put all the pieces together in her mind. The duffel  bag, the bruise, the girl, the stranger, Reign …

She'd need coffee if she was going to start working on whatever this  was. Loathe to leave the comfort of her bed, not to mention Georgia's  pleasurably soft flesh, she groaned and sat up.

Some day off, she thought sourly, but her irritation was just a façade  concealing a pit of worry that was growing in her belly. This wasn't  good. Not at all. Not at all …





17





He was very pleased with himself. He wasn't the sort of man who  generally liked patting himself on the back, but this time he'd really  outdone himself. Of course, he wasn't too proud to tip his hat to luck,  which had set him up real pretty this time.

It was lucky that the girl had found her way straight into Reign's arms.  It was lucky that she was running from a situation that he could use to  his advantage. He was lucky that her husband seemed a lot more  concerned with finding his wife than figuring out how she'd gotten the  balls to get away. He was lucky that the cops, the rest of the cops,  were only curious about her possible involvement in the hotel murder  –   they hadn't yet gotten to the point of putting out a warrant or asking  too many questions.

He was lucky in all sorts of ways. And he was a man who knew how to get the most out of his luck.

He sat outside the small, wood-sided house. Cute digs, he thought,  noting the happy "welcome" sign hanging on the front door. He also noted  the garden, which looked like someone had recently cared for it, but  not for a few days. The guy inside that house definitely wasn't the  gardening sort, nor did he seem like the "welcome" sign sort. He seemed  like the sort who'd throw a punch as soon as he found a good reason  –   and that reason could be any reason at all.

He didn't think that the fact that this Jeremy guy was a cop would  impede his mission. This guy wasn't the sort of cop who did it for noble  reasons, protecting and serving and all that. No, Jeremy was just a  good old-fashioned bully, and a police uniform gave him the authority to  bully people on behalf of the great state of Colorado.
         

     



 
He wouldn't find it part of his duty to report the man to his buddies on  the force. He'd probably be happy as a pig in shit that the man had  found him and was offering his very particular services. A one way  ticket to Find-Your-Wife-ville. If the guy wasn't pissed off enough  about the girl running off in the first place, he was sure to blow his  top once the man told him about her little romance with Reign.

The man opened his car door slowly, in no hurry. He was re-calculating  how much he stood to make off this whole fiasco. His payment from the  Immortal Soulz, what he could take from the girl's safe, what he could  weasel out of her husband as a finder's fee. He'd make enough off this  one gig to coast him through a few good years in Costa Rica.

And if anyone had a problem with him after it was all said and done, be  it the police or the club or the husband, good luck finding him. The man  could go ghost better than the best of them. He'd done enough of his  own research to know that the Immortal Soulz were savvy, but nowhere  near his level of savvy. If they were, they wouldn't have hired him in  the first place, would they?

Climbing the brick steps leading to the front door, the man noticed the  curtains shifting slightly. On the lookout, he thought with a grin.  Yeah, the guy inside was probably pretty desperate to get his hands  around his no-good, shit-for-brains, unappreciative wife. Specifically,  her neck.