Faster (Stark Ink, #3) (25 page)

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Authors: Dahlia West

BOOK: Faster (Stark Ink, #3)
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Somehow through the haze, Ava managed to whisper, “Condom.”

To her surprise, Emilio shook his head. “Do you trust me, muñeca?”

Ava still couldn’t quite catch her breath. Trust him? He’d shown her things she couldn’t even say out loud. She couldn’t work up the energy to speak again, but she nodded. Again, fascinated, she watched, almost with wondrous detachment, as he lowered himself onto her. She felt the head of his cock pressing at her entrance. The stretch and burn of his entry was almost exquisite.

As she was still lost in it all, he took charge again. This time, he reached down, grasped her leg behind the knee, and pulled it up over his hip. Just barely understanding what he wanted, she drew up her other leg and crossed her ankles at the small of his back.

He thrust into her, not hard but steady. Her pussy was soaking wet and more than accommodating. He filled her completely.

His lips found her ear. “I have to be inside you,” he whispered. “Skin to skin.” He pulled out nearly all the way then drove back in. “I won’t come. I promise.”

She held onto him, eyes closed, blood roaring in her ears. “Emilio,” she whispered.

“Ava,” he growled. “
My Ava.

He thrust in again, to the hilt, then withdrew. He was beside her now, hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her down. “Just lick it. Or use your hand.” His hands threaded through her hair as she kissed his belly. “You don’t have to swallow,” he told her.

His scent was intoxicating, his musk and her cream mixed together, coating that massive rod and making it look even more impressive. She breathed it in. Her head swirled as curiosity and lust built again inside her. She couldn’t come again but she couldn’t get enough, either.

She cupped his shaft in her hands. It was long, though, longer than the width of her palms and the head remained uncovered. A drop of slick pre-cum beaded from the slit. Ava closed her eyes, licked her lips, then licked him.

He groaned loudly and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

He tasted like salt and heat and a thousand other things Ava couldn’t name but knew she wanted. She kissed it, the way Emilio had kissed her. She understood the look in his eyes now as he’d done it. Desire could take over completely.

She put the head against her lips, soft and warm. After a few more kisses, it found its way into her mouth. She couldn’t take it all. There was no way. But Emilio didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t shove it down her throat, either, and she was grateful.

“You taste like us,” she told him, stroking the length of him.

“What do we taste like?”

“Heaven,” she replied without thinking, then swirled her tongue over him.

He groaned again. “I’m going to come, muñeca,” he warned.

His thick shaft jerked in her hand. Ava did the best she could as pulsing jets erupted. It coated her tongue, her lips, and her chin. It dribbled down to her breasts.

“Wait,” he told her and slid off the bed. The light came on in the bathroom across the room. Within seconds he returned with a warm, wet cloth and cleaned her gently. When the air hit her damp skin, it cooled immediately in the air-conditioned room. She shivered.

He grasped her shoulder and pushed her away. For a brief moment, Ava’s belly twisted. Was he kicking her out? Was he done with her now? She’d put his dick in her mouth. Now she was conquered. He pushed her away from him, across the mattress. She swallowed hard to suppress a sob that caught in her throat.

She was trash.

But he moved in behind her, still naked, the same as her. He settled in against her, his pelvis following the curve of her bare ass. A strong, muscled arm snaked across her belly and drew her in close.

She was tense, confused for a moment. Her whole body was rigid. “Emilio?”

His head hit the pillow next to her own. “Sleep, muñeca,” he ordered. “We’re both about to pass out.” His large hand cupped her breast. This time he didn’t tease. He simply held her, casually, like they’d slept together a hundred times.

Again she was struck by how much more comfortable he was with her body than she was. Like it had always been his.

“Emilio?”

He groaned. This time, though, it wasn’t sexy. “Turn off that brain, Ava.”

“You said I was yours,” she whispered. Her heart picked up speed again. She held her breath.

“Did I?”

Ava froze. He didn’t
remember
?

He shifted behind her, getting more comfortable. “Why wouldn’t I?” he finally said.

She didn’t know how to answer.

He sighed. “Ava, you’re definitely mine, but if you don’t shut the fuck up and go to sleep, I’m going to strangle you. Or sleep on the couch.” He squeezed her breast, not hard, but still firmly. His lips found her ear again. “Do you
want
me to sleep on the couch?”

Again unable to speak, she shook her head curtly.

“I can’t tell if that’s a yes or a no. So, since it’s my bed and you’re my girl, I’m going to go sleep.” He leaned in and kissed the side of her head. “Good night, Ava.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A
va awoke in the morning and immediately felt something was missing—or someone. She turned her head to find Emilio’s side of the bed empty, if he had a side. She much preferred the way he held her, fit himself to her back so perfectly, like the bed was actually
too big
.

She closed her eyes for just a moment, imagining him there anyway. She smelled his scent on the sheets but, more importantly— coffee.

Stifling a groan, she dragged herself out of bed and gathered her clothes. Her cell phone showed half a dozen messages last night and even a few voicemails. All from Clint, so who gave a shit, really? He’d caused her enough problems last night.

Ava wiggled into her panties and T-shirt and set off down the hall toward salvation. Whether that was the coffee Emilio was making or Emilio himself, she wasn’t quite sure. But she was here now and she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

In fact, she was perfectly fine pretending nothing (and no one) else existed.

She turned the corner to find him in the kitchen, looking as hot as ever in a pair of jeans but no shirt or shoes. Once again she took note of his caramel skin and wanted nothing more than to cover it in ink—and hickeys.

He set a steaming cup onto the table as she slid into an empty seat. The curtains were pulled back on the sliding glass door and it was already a bright, sunny morning outside.

Ava wished it was midnight all over again.

He poured himself a cup and lowered himself next to her. She thought about last night, about being
his Ava
. She wanted him to say it again.

But instead he said just the opposite.

“We made a mistake last night,” he told her.

Ava froze, coffee cup in hand. She stared at him.

“It can’t happen again.”

Tears pricked behind her eyes. How could this keep happening to her? And why did she care? She knew better than to care, damn it.

“I fucked up, Ava. We were in the moment and I didn’t have my head on straight.”

She squared her shoulders, anger rising in her chest. “I—”

“Could’ve gotten pregnant,” he finished. “Hell, for all we know you might
be
pregnant.” He set his own cup down and looked her straight in the eye. “The thing is, at the time, I’m not entirely sure I cared.”

It was like a bomb had dropped.

Ava leaned back in her chair.
Well... damn
, she thought. She couldn’t think of anything more profound to
say
about that, so she kept her mouth shut.

Emilio’s expression turned dark. “I asked you to trust me and then I violated that trust. That can’t happen again. This thing between us, it’s real and it’s powerful and it’s new to me, too, but we have to get a handle on it.”

“Get a handle on it,” she repeated numbly. She was barely over the part where he almost wanted a baby with her.

The corner of his mouth tugged up. “Seems impossible to me, too, but we have to give it an honest effort.” He leaned back in his own chair and assessed her for a moment. “So, you need to get your own head on straight.”


Me?

“There’s two of us here. And there were two people in that bed last night. You may be trying to play catch-up with me, but you’re eighteen and you’re sure as shit not stupid. Or a biker bunny. You’re the girl; you choose.”

Ava’s brows knitted together. “Choose?”

“Condoms. It’s up to you. I
want
to be inside you, every time. Raw, bare, natural. And it’s never been like that for me. Not before you.”

Ava already felt her belly heating up at his words.

“But if you’re not ready for me like that, then I’ll wrap it up. For now. And pills. I’d feel better if you were on them. My cock wants you carrying my seed, but thankfully my brain’s winning out.”

Ava’s head was spinning. Raw, pills, cock, seed. She blew out a long breath and looked at him.

Emilio merely shrugged. “The cock wants what it wants,” he said by way of explanation.

She snorted. “I thought it was the
heart
. The
heart
wants what the
heart
wants.”

He shrugged again. “Well, you don’t have a cock, least of all
my
cock, so you don’t know what you do to it when you’re around. And my heart’s already winning that race, Ava.”

The dam finally broke and she couldn’t handle any more. She swept her half-empty cup off the table, stood up, and walked into the kitchen to get away from him. She turned on the tap and rinsed out the dark liquid. If she thought that was enough to get away from him, she was wrong. She felt him come up behind her.

His hands came down on her hips. As always, his mouth hovered just inches from her ear. Her body vibrated like a live wire.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll give you some time to catch up to me.”

Ava shook her head. “You don’t love me, Emilio.”

“Maybe not just yet, but I’m closer to the finish line than you,” he argued lightly.

She set down the cup and turned to him. “We’ve had sex three times, Emilio. That’s it. Just three times. And maybe it was good but it was only three times.”

He grabbed her chin and forced her gaze to his. “One, it was more than good and you damn well know it,” he countered. “And two, sex isn’t love, muñeca. Don’t confuse them.”

She tried to move out of his hold but couldn’t. “That’s insane.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “So, I crash and burn in a race, crack up my spine, and can’t get it up anymore? And you’d just, what, ride off into the sunset with some other guy?”

Her cheeks flared and her eyes widened. Was that what he thought of her? “No!” she snapped. “No, I wouldn’t do that. I would never...”

“Yeah, okay,” he replied, nodding. “So, sex isn’t love, Ava. Don’t get them twisted up. If you’d open up a little bit more, let me in on what’s going on inside that head of yours, we could cross that line together. But I’ll wait for you to catch up.”

––––––––

A
va stepped onto his driveway still bewildered at his earlier words. Did he love her? No, but he was close. And though she wouldn’t admit it to him, she was closer than she’d like to be. Unfortunately, it was one finish line she couldn’t race him to.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

She pulled on her helmet and fired up her Honda. She took it slow, though, down the streets of the sleepy neighborhood. She refused to picture herself living here, with these small but well-tended lawns and pickups parked in nearly every driveway.

It would have been nice, though.

She headed across town toward her own neighborhood, taking the highway through downtown. As she passed the now-closed Stark Ink, a bike rolled out from the alley. Ava glanced at it, out of instinct alone. It was a Harley, but that alone didn’t mean anything.

Rapid City was a Harley town.

As she slowed for the light, she took another quick glance. The guy had on a button-down denim T-shirt, no cut. On his way to work, probably. The light ahead changed from yellow to red and Ava inched up to the crosswalk, resting both feet on the concrete.

She felt the rumble of the bike behind her, though it seemed impossibly loud, even through her helmet. She checked the mirror to see that he’d been joined by another rider. They were staggered in the lane, just behind her.

From what she could tell, the second rider sported no cut, either. But for some reason that fact no longer comforted her. Her hands tightened on the handlebars of her own bike. Her leather-clad fingers slid over the throttle. The urge to flee bubbled up inside her. Unreasonable yet unmanageable at the same time.

She shifted her weight subtly on the seat, trying not to telegraph her intentions. She watched as a delivery truck crept into the intersection to cross in front of her. Behind it, an impatient driver behind the wheel of a Toyota followed too closely. Why he was anxious to get to a desk job was beyond her.

From a dead stop, balance would be an issue. If she put even one foot up now, the riders behind her would know what she was about. Ava waited, stomach roiling, heart pounding, not even sure what she was about to do or why.

This “job” for the Buzzards had made her fucking paranoid. Which explained why Hook and his boys were always so intense. Ava couldn’t imagine what she’d be like after six months of this, or a year. That wasn’t a person she wanted to face in the mirror.

The Toyota was finally in front of her and Ava checked the oncoming traffic one last time, without moving her head. Judging it clear, she slammed her hand down on the throttle, leaving her feet on the ground.

The Honda roared forward, the front wheel lifting off the ground a bit—though it was entirely unintentional.

Ava threw her weight forward to keep her front end down and the tire firmly on the pavement. She jerked the front wheel hard to the left and dodged the Toyota’s rear bumper. To her left, a large pickup truck was just entering the intersection.

She heard the squeal of tires as he hit his brakes. A horn blasted at her. The Toyota stopped, too, probably wondering if the honking was for him.

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