Without Limits: Austin (Rugged Riders Book 4) (10 page)

Z
aira jerked
upright in her bed when a sound startled her. She immediately looked to the right on her nightstand, picked up her cell phone, and squinted at the dimly lit screen. Hadn’t she just fallen asleep?

“Don’t tell me it’s eight o’ clock already,” she grumbled. It felt like she’d just laid her head down on the pillow.

Thunder rumbled just outside her bedroom window and lightning blazed behind the curtains for a nanosecond. “It’s just a thunderstorm,” she breathed. She rubbed her eyes and collapsed back against her pillows.

There was a knock at the door.

“Maybe not,” she grumbled.

Who the hell was knocking on her door at this time of night?

Getting out of the bed, she threw on a silk robe over her nightgown. Whoever it was seemed very persistent. There was another knock right before she walked out of her bedroom.

Zaira pressed the intercom button to speak into the microphone. “Who the fuck is it?”

There was silence and she almost thought it was a prank until the visitor spoke almost a full minute later.

“It’s Trent.”

“What!” She activated the video on the security system and saw Trent’s familiar frame standing by her door. In disbelief, she undid the locks and swung the door open.

Sure enough Trent was physically standing there. He was drenching wet from his hair down to his leather clothes and boots.

Zaira blinked several times, taking in his appearance. She had to admit that he was gorgeous as hell, even if it looked like someone poured a bucket of water on him “You’re wet! Did you drive your motorcycle here in the rain?”

“Yeah, I did.” A guilty expression crossed over his face. “My car is in the shop for the weekend. Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

“You drove here in the middle of a thunderstorm?
Are you crazy?
”

Trent quirked an eyebrow. “Yes and
yes
.”

“Oh my gosh,” she mumbled.

“I want to come inside…of your house.”

His look was dark and hungry as it moved slowly up her body like a caress. Her gaze fell to the tight bulge in his leather pants. She bit into her bottom lip thinking about how hard his cock felt against her ass at the party. If he had come to argue some more, she was certainly ready for him. Something ran hot within her, but she was afraid that it wasn’t the yearning to initiate a fight at all.

“Come in.”

Trent bent down, took off his wet boots, and sat them just inside the foyer before coming inside. The next item that came off was his leather jacket and then his shirt. He hung the jacket and shirt on her coat rack.

Zaira’s toes curled in the carpet as his tanned, muscular torso came into full view. Tattoos covered more than seventy percent of his chest and she found them to be a work of art whenever she had the privilege of seeing them. The chain and pendant he always wore sparked bright in the dark room.

“What are you doing here?” she mumbled.

Trent caught her gaze, his eyes burning through hers like molten lava. In that instant she knew why he was there. It was written all over his face.

He ran his tongue along the seam of his lips. “Take off your robe.”

She licked her own lips as her gaze dropped and danced across his package. “Why are you here?”

“To give you something you’ll never forget. You’ll remember the night we crossed the line.”

“I hope so,” Zaira said without hesitation and she untied the belt of her robe, letting it fall open to reveal her black chemise.

“You are so fucking sexy. You just don’t know…” he groaned.

“You are so very hot,” she replied. “And I think you know it.”

Trent closed the gap between them and pushed the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to her feet. He captured her mouth, instantly meeting her tongue. She kissed him back with equal pressure, because she wanted this. He ended up with his back pressed to the door. She almost wished that he would fuck her right then and there at the door. But she knew better than anyone else that she needed more than a quick fuck.

“You can stop me now,” he mumbled against her collarbone, laying kisses on her skin.

“Why would I do that?” She pulled at the buckles of his belt, unhooking it. “I want you to fuck me now.”

He moaned when her fingers dipped into his waistband. They both assisted in sliding down his leather pants until he was standing there in his boxer briefs. His cockhead was literally jutting out of his underwear. His abs were rock hard and his cock looked equally hard.

Taking her face gently in both hands he kissed her again and lured her to walk backwards toward her bedroom. They bumped into a sofa, the coffee table, and something else on the way inside.

He immediately got down to business and slipped the straps of her chemise down. The silk fabric fell to the floor with ease. He pushed her backward and lowered her to the bed. For the next ten minutes or so, he nearly tortured her by dragging his fingers and mouth all over her body, shoulders, breasts, hips, and thighs.

She almost wondered if he was teasing her as he left her sex unattended.

Trent slid upward and took a breast in his hand. He sucked sensuously until she was writhing on the bed beneath him, then he switched sides showing the same care to the other.

She was so hot and horny that she slipped her fingers down between them and rubbed her aching clit.

“Fuck, woman,” he groaned and kissed a line downward against her belly until he reached her mound. He lifted her fingers to his mouth and sucked on those too. The taste must have satisfied him, because he slipped two fingers inside of her before sucking them into his mouth again.

“Trent, please.”

He parted her swollen lips. “You’re wet already, but you’re sweeter than peach cobbler. I knew it.” Holding her open, he covered her clit with his mouth.

She cried out on a ragged breath as he stroked her with his tongue. Her warm muscles contracted around him and she lifted her hips for him.

Taking the hint, he hooked one arm under a leg and used his other hand to pressed her thighs back against her belly. She was utterly open and exposed to him and he took full advantage of it. His tongue speared her pussy, capturing the essence on his tongue. He alternated between licking her clit, sucking her swollen lips, and penetrating her with his tongue. Her frenzy was uncontrollable and he sent her near the edge over and over again.

Two fingers speared her, entering her with force. He drove his fingers in and out of her and she bit her lips to keep from crying out too loud.

What took her over the edge was when he looked up and captured her gaze while tongue fucking her. Her orgasm was hard and long, but she held their stare with the same intensity he held her pussy to his hungry mouth.

After she came down from her orgasm, he licked her like she was a bowl of cream. She wanted to come again, but she wanted to feel complete with him inside.

“You’re just as satisfying as I thought,” he moaned.

“Trent, baby, enough,” she panted. “I need you inside me.”

He came down over her, kissing her lips. His fingers entered her again, and he drove into her with precise strokes, hitting her g-spot each time.

Zaira sucked his tongue into her mouth and he did the same. He was gentle as he dipped his digits into her pussy with just the right amount of pressure. She literally bit his lip as another storm built inside of her. She wasn’t aware of how much time had passed, but before long her toes were curling under again in what felt like an orgasm to rival all others.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She panted. “I’m now convinced that you came to kill me.”

“Never.” He grinned, pulling his briefs down. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Zaira nearly swooned when she saw his cock. It was perfect. Thick crown, long girth, veins protruding with blood desire, slightly bent to the left, and exquisite looking. She wanted a taste of his passion. She wanted to suck him dry. She licked her lips.

“I forgot my pants are on the floor in your livi—”

“In the nightstand. Middle drawer.” She already knew what he was referring to, and she simply didn’t have enough patience to wait for him to go back to the foyer to get a condom.

As he opened the foil wrapper, she rose her upper body and traced the thick vein along his shaft and then took the bulbous head into her mouth. Her tongue covered every inch of him, coating him with moisture. She stroked him, squeezing the base and the shaft.

“Oh…” he moaned, and grabbed her by the ponytail. He thrust his hips back and forth, meeting the back of her throat more than once.

Without notice, he pulled his cock out of her mouth, flipped them over, and hoisted her on top of him. They both moaned when her pussy made contact with his dick, just along the opening.

“You are so gorgeous. This first time, I want to see your pretty face, your sexy body. Everything. I want to watch as you take me inside of you.”

Zaira positioned herself over him and Trent gripped her hips. She came down over him and he lifted his pelvis to meet her. It was a tight fit and she moved slowly, adjusting to his size. When she reached rock bottom, they both cried out in pleasure.

Just as Trent requested, she kept her eyes on him as she worked herself up and down. Just as it was earlier at the party, she gave him his own private dance and she was most definitely the center of his attention and he was hers. She could see the concentration in his eyes as he looked at her with intense hunger.

He took full advantage, moving his palm lovingly over her skin as she worked them up to yet another frenzy. The rhythm of his hips synced with hers, thrust for thrust. He traced her flat belly and her wide hips. He gripped at her thighs and ass. He kneaded her breasts. His hands—and eyes—were all over her.

“You like having control?” he asked.

“Yes.” She sank deeper and deeper, picking up speed.

“I like having and taking it too.” He drove upward, hard, into her. “But a man knows when to relinquish control to a woman he cares about, respects, and loves.”

“Yes.” It was all she could manage as she neared a peak.

Trent grabbed her hips and gently rolled them over until her chest was flat on the bed and he was on top her. She balanced herself on her hands and knees on the bed.

“Lovely fucking ass.” He kissed both mounds, leaving hot trails across her plump flesh. “My beautiful butterfly.”

He spanked her ass and she screamed in surprise.

He kneaded her tender skin, and then bent to kiss the same spot. “Your ass…right in front of my face. I know what to do with it.”

“Trent—”

He spanked her twice, one on each mound. Her bottom stung, but her insides clenched in need. He kissed her pussy lips from behind and slid his tongue from slit to anus, back and forth until her thighs were shaking.

“Do you like what I’m doing to you?”

“Yes,” she screamed. “But please…now”

“Here it is.” He pressed his shaft onto her pussy. “You want my dick? Back that ass up on it.”

Zaira gladly did so. She accepted him easily into her drenched canal, protesting when he pulled out almost completely.

He slammed back into her and she screamed his name. From there on out, she relented control. He’d taken the reigns, set the tempo, and ferocity of his thrusts.

“Oh, baby,” she panted.

Trent grabbed her ponytail holder and snatched it out, then grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled back. He pressed his lips against her ear. “Remember all that shit you talked over the phone. Talk that shit now.”

Zaira grinned. “Okay, you got me…just fuck me now and we can talk shit later.”

“That’s the Zaira I know.” He nipped gently at her neck. “You want action. No problem. I can give you the business.”

She moaned at the delicious sensations running through her and found his rhythm. She matched it. Her moist sex clamped around him and her nails dug into the mattress as she took the entire length of him. His moans were sexy and primal. His grip was firm, yet welcome.

Her body vibrated and rich sensations melted over her skin. His name rushed from her mouth at the same time a climax rolled through her. He stroked through her release, prolonging the satisfaction.

When her knees were too weak to hold herself any longer, he turned her around and pulled her thighs over his so that she was straddling him as he sat.

“I want to see your beautiful face,” Trent said, pushing her hair back from her face and running his fingers through it.

Zaira began to make small movements over him and he clenched his teeth. His face was glowing with pleasure and sweat. He kissed her again, his tongue entering her mouth with each downward slide of her hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched her back, going deeper still.

She caught his gaze and saw a flicker of something within his irises. She’d seen the look before, many times before when they were together. One such time was on the very first day they met—the day they almost crashed into each other. They were literally crashing into each other now. Body against body. Mouth to mouth. She couldn’t keep her hands off him.

Trent’s forehead creased and a look of elation floated over his face. “You feel good. Damn, your pussy feels like heaven.”

Her sex clamped tightly around him and the moment he bent down to take a nipple into his icy hot mouth, she exploded. Not more than five seconds after her release, he groaned hoarsely through his own orgasm.

When it was all over, they fell into each other’s arms. Just before she drifted off to sleep, her alarm clock went off.

Trent groaned and hugged her closer.

Every Saturday morning, Zaira met with her personal trainer. This morning she wouldn’t do that. She had burned enough calories already.

She reached over and turned the annoying buzzer off, then lay her head against Trent’s chest.

Z
aira tried
to convince herself that the only reason she accepted Trent’s offer to come by the shop was that she really needed the maintenance done on her motorcycle. She wasn’t an avid rider like her dad, so keeping up the maintenance schedule was always an after thought. The bike pretty much stayed locked up and covered in her garage most weeks.

She came to a halt near the front of the building, stopping in front of the open garage door of the shop and removed her helmet.

Trent came out from behind a storage shelf to meet her, wiping his hands on a cloth towel. He had on a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else. Of course, he didn’t seem to care about wearing the black grease stains on his skin. She didn’t either. There was a fresh sheen of sweat on his copper-toned skin which seemed to accentuate the muscles strewn across his entire body. Zaira probably would have begun drooling if she hadn’t caught herself staring.

“Hey Beautiful.”

She smiled. “Hi Handsome.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Relaxed, actually. I took another nap after you left this morning,” she said, eyeing his lips.

Trent grinned. “I figured you needed a longer one.”

He grabbed her hips gently, his fingers sliding against her bare belly under her midriff top. She inhaled taking in the smells of fresh soap and cologne mixed with sweat and engine grease. It was an intoxicating combination, activating her desire for him once again. Two rounds of sex for one day should have been enough, but it wasn’t…

Zaira pulled him into her by the forearms and they kissed. He tasted better than last night. His kisses were certainly softer than they were last night, but then again, they had both been out of control. She pressed her breasts to his chest, not giving a damn about getting her clothes messy. She’d known better than to get fancy to come to a repair shop, so she’d settled for a short top and a pair of jeans.

They rolled her motorcycle inside and he closed the garage door.

“We’re closed on Sundays, so we shouldn’t get any regular customers,” Trent said.

“Regular?” She followed him back to the corner of the shop where he’d emerged from earlier.

“The shop is owned by Rugged Riders members. It’s opened for regular operations Monday through Saturday. We have about five employees on the payroll, but I’m sure I’m not the only one that stops by on the regular to maintain my ride.”

“Sounds convenient.” Zaira leaned against a worktable. “Isn’t this where you worked part time when you first moved here?”

“You actually remember all that?” He smiled and came over to the table and shuffled through some tools. “Between my side gig and looking for legitimate work, yes, this is where I spent most of my days and nights.”

“By side gig…do you mean gambling?”

Zaira observed as the Adam’s apple on his throat bobbed. “Yeah. Kind of like what you saw on Friday night. Gambling, sports and race betting…you name it. After my dad got locked up, I practically lived in Las Vegas when I was serious about it.”

“Well I can see that you were and still are successful at it.”

“Making money that way was the only thing I knew,” he said. “Growing up with my dad and no mother, we had to hustle day in and day out for a meal, sometimes two if we were lucky. We lied, we cheated, and stole to stay alive.”

“I can’t really talk for someone else, but when you told me your mom ran out on you and your dad when you were eight, I kept thinking there was some legitimate reason for it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “My parents divorced when I was young, mutually. It took me a while but I had to understand that they weren’t happy together. In the end, not having to hear them fighting every night over this and that was relieving.”

“Well, that’s pretty typical.” He exhaled. “But if you’re trying to get me believe that my mom being addicted to cocaine and running off with a pothead was a legitimate enough reason to leave me and my dad alone, it’s not going to work.”

That revelation hit Zaira like an arrow to her heart. She’d known his mother had left; he’d told her, but he hadn’t told her why—just that he didn’t really know. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” He took a tool, moved over to the motorcycle, and knelt down to work.

“Does she…do you still talk to her?”

“She’s been committed to a board and care facility out west,” Trent said, bluntly. “I check up on her periodically to make sure she has what she needs, but she doesn’t remember me. She seems to think I’m some secret federal agent trying to bust her and her boyfriend for dealing. She’s called me a whole bunch of other names too. She’s schizophrenic. My dad told me once that there were signs of it when they were dating. She told him the drugs helped her cope, hence her addiction.”

“Gosh,” Zaira said.

“And you wonder why I never talk about my past freely. It’s usually too much for anyone to take in.”

Zaira knelt down near him and caught his gaze. “It’s complicated, yes, but you have to give yourself credit. I’ve never met a man as successful and ambitious as you are. I had no idea…”

“Despite what people think of my dad, I give him all the credit because I wouldn’tt be where I am today if he gave up when we didn’t even have a bucket to piss in.”

“Trent, I didn’t know everything.”

“Listen,” he said. They rose together until they were face to face. “I’m not trying to manifest some pity party. That’s not what I want from you. If I open up completely, maybe you will understand me more…and maybe you won’t.”

“I was too quick to judge…”

“No, you were smart like any good woman would be.”

His face was only inches away from hers and she closed the gap to kiss him. They kissed each other with urgency. She just couldn’t get enough of him. He trailed kisses along her face, down her neck and across her shoulders, and pulled her tightly against his rock hard chest.

“I want you,” he rasped against her throat.

“Then take me,” she urged.

Her top and bra came off in a haste and before she knew it, Trent had switched his center of attention to her breasts. He tugged on her sensitive nipples with his lips, kneading both breasts with his palms and licking them. She managed to slide her hands down into his basketball shorts.

She gasped when she found him erect and ready. He moaned as she stroked him from base to tip, luring him out of his shorts.

Trent lifted her onto the metal table and she kicked off her shoes. With one tug, he rid her of her jeans and panties. He extracted a foil package from his wallet before kicking his shorts aside.

He was big and erect, ready to fuck her.

“Oh, God.” She swooned as intense heat rushed down to her sex.

He tore the wrapper open with his teeth and sheathed his straining erection with a condom.

Zaira spread her legs on the table, showing off her pussy. Why pretend that she didn’t want something that brought her so much satisfaction?

Trent hooked his arms under her knees and pulled her closer to the edge of the table. He took her, slowly and deeply. Moving all the way out and then back in again until she was clutching at the table crying out for more.

“I don’t think I could ever stop after this, Zaira,” he declared.

“Keep going. Don’t ever stop,” she replied.

After those words, he became relentless, pushing her limits. As she sat on the table with her legs spread wide, back arched, and breasts to the ceiling, he entered her pussy over and over again.

The little repair shop was filled with nothing but the table hitting the wall behind them, his hoarse declarations, and her cries of pleasure.

She lost herself that day, and for once she didn’t worry about the consequences. Not one bit.