Thrash (16 page)

“I want to help you,” I said patiently, and I meant it. “I’m just not sure how I can.”

His brow had furrowed so deeply, I felt my heartbeat skip.

When he spoke, I knew why he was worried.

“I’m going to need you to come with me.”

That snapped me out of my buzz. “Into… Oh.” My eyes grew large.

“You think I want to put you in harm’s way? You think I want to do this to you? I don’t. I am fucking pissed, but it’s the only thing I can think of. I would never want to do this to you, ever. I’m just as mad at myself as you are.” I watched him grip the steering wheel, his fingers wrapping around it until they were white. Damn.

Somehow it only made him hotter. I was getting wet just watching him. He was so angry, so raw. All I wanted was to crawl on his lap and kiss him.

“Pull over,” I said, not asking, commanding.

“What?” he asked.

“Just do it.”

Now the tables were turned, and I was the one making demands. I liked it, a little too much. He did as I told him, pulling off into an alley.

“What?” he asked, confused.

I crawled directly onto his lap so that I was facing him, purring into his ear, “Don’t you know? You are really hot when you’re mad.”

I couldn’t help myself. I ground against his lap, knowing full well that he hadn’t had a chance to get off earlier. All I’d had to do was show up and he was so hard, I could have rubbed him off in his jeans. But I wasn’t feeling that mean. I intended to put that thick cock under my thigh to better uses.

Maybe he needed some reassurance, but for whatever reason, he asked, “What are you doing, Nora?”

“I’m getting what I want.” I smiled and bent down, kissing him softly, concentrating on the feel of those lips and the texture of his tongue.

He pushed me away.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” He shook his head, confused.

For a second, my brow furrowed, my lips pouting slightly. Then I smiled in a way that did not bode well for him. “Does everything have to make sense?” I asked sweetly, knowing full well that for him, yes, it did.

That was the fun of asking, though. I wanted him worked up, restless, and mad. I was also trying to make a point.

When he grabbed both my wrists and pinned them in front of me, I leaned back against the steering wheel, enjoying the strength in his arms as he felt the tension in my thighs over his.

“Nora –”

“DeMarcus?” I interrupted him, intentionally laying the husky notes on thick. I had noticed he seemed to have a thing for my voice, and I was already wondering whether I would get the chance to tell him what I wanted to watch him do. But the truck didn’t seem like the place to take full advantage of that.

“You’re upset with me,” he snapped, trying to make himself stop wanting me so much. “Down a bottle or two. Fuck me. Pretend nothing ever bothers you. None of that shit will make you feel better, and I’m not interested in ignoring our problems with sex. If this is just a game to you, then get the fuck out!”

I stared at him, wide-eyed, wondering where all that was coming from.

Maybe it was the stress of what he had to do for the club, but he was really pissed, and my antics were making it worse and quickly.

His grip on my wrists just hurt because he wasn’t paying attention to the way the bones rubbed together. I didn’t think he would hit me, but I was afraid to lean forward in case he got exasperated and threw me back into his seat.

He had never seemed like a violent man, but Thrash was really worked up. Men rarely knew how easily they could knock around a woman unless they did it a lot. For what it was worth, I knew it would bug Thrash if he hurt me because he was angry. But bruises were bruises and things could break. I wasn’t interested in that.

So I softened my voice and behaved till the uglier light in his eyes died down.

“I’m not playing games,” I said seriously, toning it down.

He glared at me, some of the fear peeking through. “Then what are you doing?”

“I –”

How to explain? I rubbed my aching wrists and chose my words the way I would choose cards for a game: with care and in earnest. You worked with what you had, the real deal, and only kept people guessing when it counted. Now was time to show.

I sighed. “Life sucks sometimes. I still want you, though. I still want to be with you. I don’t like what’s happening right now, the risks we’re having to take for the club, the worry you’re carrying around. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t want you.” Carefully, I kissed down that angry jaw to his neck. “And I know you want me.”

“That’s not fair.” He sucked in a breath, but I could feel my words had worked. The fact that I meant them had worked better.

“No, it isn’t fair
at all
.” I grinned wickedly, letting his mind play with that. “And that’s the point.” I unzipped him slowly, watching him, waiting to see if he would say no.

“None of this is fair,” I murmured petulantly. “But I’m going to get what I want out of it.”

He seemed to like that. I could feel his pulse pounding beneath my hand. I slid my fingers down the lip of his jeans, determinedly prying the button loose. Feeling the warm length of him, still trapped by the restrictive denim, made my mouth water.

“And what do you want?” he ground out, his eyes soaked with lust.

“You. Nothing else, just you.” I meant it, too.

He got right to the point. “Here, or the apartment?” he asked. I could tell he was dead serious. He was going to take me right here and now if I let him. If I wanted it.

I toyed with the thought till a smile gave me away. I wanted him right here, like this.

“Here,” I answered, my voice breathy.

He didn’t ask twice. He buried his hand in my hair and brought my lips to his for a deep kiss that left me wet above and below. He kissed me until I couldn’t stand it anymore and whimpered.

When I sensed him shift, I braced my weight on my knees. He helped me pull his jeans low enough that I could fill my hand with that gorgeous length of man-meat. I could see, dark and thick, in the faint light of a distant street-lamp.

I ran my tongue over my teeth, letting my eyes tell him exactly how much I wanted to ride that. He was pulsing beneath my palm inside his boxers.

Oh, I was enjoying this. It was a bit mean, but doing exactly what I wanted when I wanted felt so good I didn’t care.

“Fuck, you really are a little devil, aren’t you?” he managed to ask as I squeezed his cock, soft and first, then harder, and light again.

I giggled. He pulled the shirt up and over my head, quick and simple. My skin tingled at the sudden exposure and thrilled when his warm hands pulled me on top of him and drifted lower. We had left my clothes at the club, and I hadn’t had anything to wear under the clothing he lent me. My body was easy to access and those fingers found me out fast. I was soaking wet and hot.

“Damn. You are so wet.” The way he said it told me that if I dragged this out any longer, we’d be cleaning up before I got mine.

I grinned at him. Determined not to be the only one naked this time, I pulled his shirt and cut off in one fell swoop, exposing the firm musculature of his waist. I ran my hand down the washboard of abs, sliding back into my seat so that he could face me.

He slipped the rest of the way out of his jeans and braced himself on the steering wheel to come towards me. The breadth and width of his chest and arms; the look in his eyes, on that handsome face… He truly was a masterpiece. That perfect skin, dusky dark and beautifully rippled in all the right places. His body and cock matched: the sight of it, the feel of it. Hard and soft at once. The perfect combination to drive me wild. Make me foolish.

I was willing to do just about anything to get him inside me.

“This is not going to be sweet and gentle,” he warned me. “I want you, and I want you now. I’ve been holding back, and I won’t do that this time.”

I answered him honestly, aware that I might have repeat myself later. “I don’t want you to try and save me from pain, DeMarcus. I want you, all of you, and I want you now.”

I leaned back on the wide seat, treating him to his favorite sight. Whoever had designed these trucks had definitely been planning to get up to some mischief in them. Thrash and I were going to enjoy the fruit of their labor.

I reached between his legs and grabbed his cock, wrapping my fingers around it and giving it a little tug. Fuck, it was so stiff, so thick, and just the right length to thrill me.

“Damn, you are big,” I said.

“Is this what you want, baby?”

I cooed. “You are exactly what I want.”

I didn’t just mean his body, either, but I wasn’t about to get sappy. Right then, restless and hot, I needed that body, too. “Now let me do the talking.”

He grinned wolfishly, obedient only for spite.

“Fuck me,” I breathed, my voice thick with desire, and what we did next had nothing to do with obedience and everything to do with need.

I gave him another tug and he grabbed me, pulling me towards him until I was firmly on my back on the seat. Then he kissed me, the passion of it overwhelming me.

We were volcanic together like this. I writhed and pushed myself up again, desperate for more of those lips, that tongue, this man.

I let out a little moan as he bit my lip, nibbled my chin, and then trailed his lips down to my neck. The way he sucked at my skin told me I was delicious. The way his hands took ahold of me and wandered drove me wild.

I cooed, arching my hips up for him to plunder. And just like that his fingers were there, sliding over my slit until he found the wet opening. He slipped those dark fingers in and my body clenched around him, aching for more.

When he pulled them away, I cried out, not wanting him to stop. He brought his fingers up to his lips and took a taste.

I watched him do it, enraptured, then grabbed his hand and leaned up to kiss him, seeking the taste of my desire in his mouth.

I was so eager that he was the one who ended up on his back. I followed him down, our skin hot and our hands as hungry as our passion.

I positioned myself over him, the head of his cock against my pussy. I wanted him in me so badly, but I knew I had to be careful or that length and width would hurt me.

I wanted to ride him right. I wanted both of us to cum together. So I lowered myself onto the head of his cock, and sheathed it slowly.

Fuck, he filled me just right, that thickness pressing against my lips, tugging the flesh inside just right. Even as wet as I was, his skin rubbed me just right. I wanted more.

“Oh god,” I moaned, bracing myself against his shoulders. It was so easy to get off on him.

I had to wait and then pulled myself up and then back down again, slowly at first until I got into a working rhythm.

“Fuck, you are so damn good.”

He grabbed my hips and quickened my pace. The way he lifted my body up over and over again, forcing me to go faster and faster, the feel of his skin against mine, the way his cock slid in and out of me - it was all driving me insane.

I wanted more. I wanted all of him. I wanted so much that, had I been able to think clearly right then, I would have known I was never willingly going to leave this man. I had never in my life dreamed I could feel this good, that it could be good for me, that I could keep it.

If I had never left home, I never would have found this. I never would have found Thrash. I would never have been allowed to see him once, let alone again, except maybe as a fling, if my family had humored me. But this was not a fling.

“Faster,” I moaned, working my body as hard as I could. I needed more, and I wasn’t strong enough yet to get it on my own. I needed his help. His hands grasped my ass, guiding me and setting off an entirely new wave of desire.

“More, baby, please?” I begged.

Finally, he spoke, and was ready to hear it.

“I want you to cum, baby. Wet me down. Wet me down.” His voice drove me on, my legs aching and bracing as I rocked back and forth harder, meeting his thrusts as hard as I could, trying not to scream – not yet, not yet.

I moved one hand to my clit and rubbed in circles as I moved on him, I was so close to cumming I could barely stand it.

“That’s it, beautiful. Fuck me.”

I felt his body clenched beneath me. I wasn’t the only one who was going to cum, and I liked it that way.

I grabbed my own breasts, and growled, “Cum with me, Thrash.” The way I said it stole his breath and drove him over the brink.

He let out a loud moan and it was enough to send me into a fury.

We rocked and thrust through the crescendo. When the waves crashed through me, my body clenched so tight around him that he lurched forward and cried out. I felt him release inside me, the gush setting off a series of spasms and a wicked delight.

“Holy fuck!” he gasped, laughing softly, eyeing me in amazement.

I wriggled atop him, savoring the feel of him still inside me. I clenched my body around him, slowly, steadily, thrilling in the sweet torment of our bodies together.