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Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(90)

By:Meg Jackson

"Okay," I said, happy to move onto a different subject and praying that I  wouldn't have any more stupid questions pop into my head.

"So why me? Why tonight? Is this just some post-high school  experimenting? Blowing off steam?" He was asking questions like he  already knew the answers, and it kind of upset me, even though I  recognized that they were totally legitimate questions for the  situation.

"Something like that. Sheriff's daughter and all," I said with a nervous  giggle, speaking just for the sake of speaking, not even really  thinking about what I was saying. A strange look came over Boon's face, a  mixture of intrigue and distrust. Stop saying the wrong things, you  idiot! I reprimanded myself, wondering just how badly I could possibly  mess this up.

"Sheriff's daughter? And he let you go to Las Vegas on your own?"

"Daddy's pretty liberal," I said. "And he trusts me."         

     



 

"Well, bully for you," Boon said, taking a deep swig of his drink, a frustrated look in his eye.

"I'm sorry," I said, half-sarcastically. The night had suddenly taken a  strange turn, and while I was still enamored with Boon, still felt the  way my body was responding to his mere presence, I didn't like the way  he was speaking to me. "But you can't chalk this up to daddy issues."

The look on Boon's face vanished as he chuckled and stared into his drink.

"Well that's good. Daddy issues are fun in the bedroom but not when  they're calling you crying at three in the morning," he said, looking up  at me with a mischievous grin. The hint of raunchiness in his speech,  the fact that he was clearly so much more experienced than I was, all  made me nervous again, and I could hear my heart beating in my ears.

"So … do you do this often?" I asked, suddenly realizing that while Boon  had been stuck in my head all day and night, I was probably just another  in a parade of girls who fell into his bed and then vanished, never to  be seen again.

"What do you think?" he answered slyly, a glint in his eye. I felt like I  was going crazy. Really, I must have been going crazy. Why else would I  be sitting there at that bar, chatting with a guy I'd just met, who I  was  –  probably  –  about to lose my virginity to? Panic clawed at my  throat and I thought: run, run, little girl, run away before you get  hurt!

But one look at that lopsided smile, that gently tousled hair, those  ripped, tattooed biceps, chased those thoughts away. Boon looked at his  watch and stood up, taking one of the keycards from the table. I admired  his long, lean, body as he stood up and felt a tingling between my  legs. I thought of his hands in my hair, his mouth on my neck … I  shivered.

"I hope I see you soon," he said before vanishing into the crowd,  leaving me alone with one keycard and a view of the strip that left me  blind. I sat, unable to think, staring out the window, an epic battle  raging inside me.

If I hadn't taken that keycard. If I hadn't stepped onto that elevator  and pressed the button for the second floor. If I hadn't, if I hadn't,  if I hadn't, if I hadn't.

But I did.





10





The red light on the door flashed, turn green, blinking, beeping softly.  My hands shook as I turned the handle, pushing the heavy door inwards. I  could feel my heart beating in my chest, too hard, my breath shallow  and panicky.

The room was dim, though the lights on either side of the king-size bed  were both on. Boon sat looking out the window, his fingers strumming on  the wooden table. The room was just a hotel room: fancy, in the way I  assumed all Vegas hotel rooms were, but not a fancy as the one I was  staying in. Boon turned to look at me, a grin on his face, when he heard  the door clicking shut behind me.

"I'm here," I said meekly, not sure what else to say.

"I see that," he replied coolly. If he was excited about the things I  was going to let him do to me, he didn't let it show. I stepped towards  him; he rose to meet me. He towered over me, his strong arms  intimidating, his gaze penetrating.

"How do you want it, little sister?" he asked, his voice low and  gravelly, harsh in my ears. The question took me off guard and I  panicked, mind racing with possible responses.

"Wh-what do you mean?" I finally managed to croak. He was standing so  close, I could smell him, the burly, masculine smell of him … .

"Well," he said, reaching out and stroking my arm with a single  fingertip, raising all the hair on my body in goosebumps, "I could be  gentle. And slow." His finger ran all the way down to my hand, where he  entwined his fingers in my own, drawing me closer.

"Or," he said, suddenly increasing his grip and pulling me around, into  his arms, backwards, so that my back was pressed against his chest. His  hands flew to my halter top, pushing it up violently, his fingernails  raking across my taut stomach, rising to my fresh, bubbly breasts,  kneading them hard. One hand moved to my hair, pulling my ponytail, my  head snapping on my neck as his lips lowered to my ears. "I could fuck  you hard, and fast, make you scream."

I was panting at this point, my eyes closed, the warmth of his breath  against my neck mixing with the desire in my stomach. His hand was rough  on my breasts, cupping them, teasing the nipples, massaging them  forcefully. I moaned as his lips parted and he began to kiss my neck,  tracing my jawline. His grip on my hair released and he moved his hand  back under my top, cupping both breasts now at the same time. I'd never  let anyone touch my breasts like that, and I was amazed at the yearning  it awoke in me, a deep aching need.         

     



 

Suddenly, I was flying through the air, then bouncing onto the mattress.  Boon had pushed me over and was standing above me now. I could see the  outline of his hardness through his jeans, bit my lip, nervous and  excited and hungry and frightened, all at the same time. Adrenaline  pulsed through me, lighting up my nerves.

I was lying on my back, looking up at Boon, as he grabbed onto my  thighs, his hands rough against my smooth skin. He slid his hands up my  legs, getting closer and closer to my pussy. My breath quickened the  further he got. His eyes studied me, almost as though he were feasting  on the sight of me.

"Take off your shirt," he growled, and I obliged, unthinking. I pulled  the tank top off, letting the cool air of the hotel room flow over my  nipples, savoring the feeling of abandon, of risk, the heat of the  intimate moment with a stranger. This is really happening, I thought to  myself. I reached down, began to play with the button on my shorts.  Boon's hands flew to my own, pushing them away. He ripped open the top  of my shorts, yanking them down, taking my underwear with them, his  motions fast, as though he couldn't hold back.

I was totally exposed, then, laying back, knees in the air, completely  naked in front of a man for the first time in my life. I could taste my  heart in my throat. My skin was alive with want. I couldn't think,  couldn't question, couldn't go back. Boon grabbed my waist, pulled me to  the end of the bed. His calloused fingers on my skin made me quiver.

He knelt down before me; I didn't know what he was doing, exactly. I  thought maybe he wanted to look at my pussy, maybe he was checking to  see if I was a virgin, if it was clean. I leaned upwards, supporting  myself on my elbows, and looked down curiously at the top of Boon's head  between my legs.

I moaned and threw my head back when I felt his lips against my inner  thighs, a trail of kisses moving slowly lower, lower. I still didn't  know what he was doing, but it felt like heaven, and I realized I was  getting wet down there as his lips grazed my sensitive skin. My pussy  clenched, crying out, fire rising to my face as Boon's head dropped  lower … lower … lower …

His tongue. My clit. My hands rushing to his head, his hair between my  fingers, his tongue, my clit, moaning, lapping, thighs clenching around  his neck, pulling him closer, wanting more. Moaning and tossing, my  heart beating faster and faster, his soft, warm, wet mouth on my pussy,  my hips bucking, fingers pulling him closer, deeper, more, more, more,  please, oh god, please, don't stop …

His tongue darted out, flicked my clit, rolled around it, zig-zagged  across it, flicked it again, circled it, like a dance, a tango, his  tongue on my tender button, my sex jumping and gushing with each lick. I  cried out for more, begged him not to stop, my face flaming bright red,  my body tensing. I felt a pressure building inside me like a wave, a  throbbing, aching desire overtaking me. My toes curled.

My hands grabbed Boon's head roughly, pulling him into me, grinding  against his lips as he suckled my swollen clit, drawing it into his  mouth, bringing his teeth ever-so-slightly against it, just grazing it,  really. I fell back against the mattress, feeling it building, building,  more and more, the wave growing and growing and cresting and finally …