Hard (6 page)

He picked up the speed and power of his thrusts, the feel of her without the condom incredible. It had been so long since he had fucked without a condom he had forgotten what it felt like.

“Harder…”

He began to drive into her with intent, pausing long enough to change his position so he could drive into her harder and faster.

“Harder…please, harder,” she gasped as her second orgasm began to press down on her. He grabbed her hair, near the roots, and applied light pressure, pulling her head up. She grunted and leaned harder back. “Yes…yes…I’m going to come…make me come.”

He bared his teeth, his own orgasm beginning to stalk him. He released her hair and wrapped an arm around her chest, just under her throat, then snaked his other hand around her hips, reaching for her clit to stroke it gently.

The moment he touched her button, her orgasm rushed down on her. “Oh…
oh…fuck!”
she called out softly as her orgasm swept through her. He began to pound into her furiously, extending her orgasm and forcing it even higher, making her want to scream her release to the world, but she couldn’t find her voice. Just as her orgasm washed out of her, Treble grunted hard and deep as he ground his hips into hers until he relaxed with a whoosh of air.

He let out a long cleansing breath as his orgasm washed out of him. He needed a moment before he would be able to go again, but at the same time, he knew he probably shouldn’t. He had lost control there at the end and had fucked the
shit
out of Lindy until he came, lost in his lust and her orgasm. He pulled out with a hiss and flopped to the bed with Lindy collapsing into his arms then kissing him thoroughly.

“That was amazing,” she breathed as she snuggled in.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered. He didn’t know what it was about her, maybe the fact that she had given her virginity to him, but he felt a special bond to her that he hadn’t felt for the other women he had slept with.

“I think you’re pretty amazing yourself.” She paused, feeling sleep tugging at her again. “I’m glad you were my first,” she finally whispered.

Treble smiled but didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing, simply pulling her in a little tighter and then kissed her softly. The lied together a moment, basking in spent passion as sleep overtook them once again.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bridget brushed at her face and Stiles smiled. When she became still, he gently brushed his lips to hers again, pulling back as she once again wiped at her face in her sleep. He waited a moment longer then kissed her softly again. This time she didn’t wipe at her face but sighed.

“If you’re going to do that, at least make it worth doing,” she murmured, not moving.

He waited until she opened her eyes before slowly moving in for a kiss. With a groan she rolled into him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down. They kissed slowly for a long moment before she let him go and stretched her legs and arms, fingers and toes, extending them to their limit as she groaned low and deep.

“That’s more like it,” she mumbled before closing her eyes again and snuggling in close. “What time is it?”

“Not quite six.”

“If you say six a.m., I’m going to kick you right in the nuts,” she murmured with closed eyes and a slight smile.

He chuckled. “Okay, I won’t say it. How are you feeling this morning?”

“Like something died in my mouth and my head hurts. But I’ve felt worse. Four hours sleep isn’t going to do it today,” she said, her eyes still closed but her small smile growing slightly as she remembered the previous night. It wasn’t often she could spend the entire night, but waking up with Stiles never failed to put her in a good mood for the rest of the day.

“Go back to sleep,” he said as he started to get up.

“No,” she moaned, pulling him back into the bed with her. “Stay with me. I’m cold.”

Stiles lied down beside her again, lying on his side and scooting in close, propping his head up on a bent arm so he could watch her until she went back to sleep.

“How’d it go the other day?” she asked after a long pause, her eyes still closed but aware he was staring at her.

Stiles smiled. Another job well done and another five grand in the bank for the Aces. “We caught them. As we suspected, it was a couple of punk kids, seventeen and eighteen years old.”

“What did you do to them?”

“Treble and I beat the shit out of them and explained how they might want to get into another line of work, or at least take it somewhere else. One of the kids lived in the neighborhood; the other was some thug friend of his. That’s how they knew where and when to hit; the kid knew who lived in the neighborhood knew who was home and when. Stupid ass kids, the one doing it for the thrill of it. The friend pulled a knife on Treble, the dumb ass. He’s lucky Treble didn’t shove that knife up his ass.” He shook his head. “I just don’t get it. The kid had everything: money, a good family, and he was pissing it all away, just to impress some friend of his who didn’t give a shit.”

Bridget nodded. She knew all about the Black Aces. They were vigilantes for hire, but wearing white hats. When you couldn’t get help or justice any other way, the Black Aces might be able to help.

Someone had been breaking into houses and cars in the upscale Quail Hollow area, and while the police had expressed sympathies, they did little to solve the problem. So after a while, someone in the neighborhood had answered the Black Aces’ Craigslist ad. The wording read like any other handyman advertisement, but the word on the street was the Black Aces fixed very specific types of problems.

“Did you tell his parents?”

“No. He can explain having the shit beat out of him all by himself. Hopefully this was a wakeup call for him if nothing else.”

“What about the little girl?” Bridget asked taking a deep breath and stretching again. “Anything there?”

“No. Not yet. We’ll get him, though.”

“When you do, I hope you kill the bastard.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll get his.”

A month ago a bereaved man and woman had contacted the Aces. While the mother and daughter were on the way home from a weekend Girl Scout trip, someone threw a concrete block from an overpass. The block penetrated the windshield of their SUV and killed their thirteen-year-old daughter riding in the front seat. This wasn’t the first time someone threw a block off an overpass, but this was the first time someone was killed, and it made the local news. The police were asking for help to find the culprit, but in private they had confided that there was little hope of finding the man, much less being able to convict him. The mother and father were determined to see justice served, and the Aces had agreed to help. This was going to be a long and drawn out search because, unlike the thefts, this asshole moved around. But the Aces would get him, eventually, because they always did.

“Good. I hope you catch him before the police.” She paused as she thought about what would happen to him if they did. Anyone that would do something so malicious deserved everything they got as far as she was concerned. “So that was Treble?” she asked, pulling her thoughts away from the darkness.

“That was him.”

“Good looking guy. I thought it was funny he went right for Lindy. You’re sure he doesn’t know about us?”

“Not as far as I know. He thinks I’ve given up on women.”

Bridget sighed and twisted her head to the side and puckered, her eyes still closed. “If he only knew,” she said after he kissed her.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “He thinks my biggest problem is I don’t get laid enough.”

“I don’t think you do either, but I come by as often as I can. But when you do get some, you make up for it.”

“Oh?”

“Oh…yeah,” she purred, making him chuckle.

“You liked last night?”

“Oh…yeah,” she purred again and then smiled. “You make me come so goddamn hard sometimes.” She paused and then her smile grew wider. “I love it.”

As he watched, her smile faded. “What?” he asked quietly. 

“I’m going to miss this. Us. How you make me feel.”

“Me too,” he whispered. He should have broken it off after she told him she had accepted Terry’s wedding proposal, but she had wanted to continue and, in truth, so had he. He wanted her, desperately, but she obviously didn’t want him for more than a plaything or she wouldn’t have accepted Terry’s proposal, or at least would have broken off the wedding by now. She had talked about Terry at the beginning, open and honest about how he didn’t do it for her in the bedroom like he did. Then he proposed, less than two months after they had become intimate. Terry seemed like a good man, a caring man who would treat her well. Stiles wanted her to be happy and secure, and though the thought of her in another man’s arms cut him like a knife, he knew Terry could give her a life he never could. At that time, he had only an inkling that she was different and not just another fuck buddy, so he sucked it up and tried to enjoy what time they had left together. Over the next several months his feelings for her became clear and now, as the wedding drew near, knowing she would be forever lost to him was nearly more than he could bear.

“You okay?” she asked softly, watching his face as his eyes became profoundly sad.

“Yeah. Just thinking how empty and cold my bed is going to be without you in it.”

She stared at him and wondered what he meant. At times he seemed so sad she was getting married, and said things that made her wonder what would happen if she were to break off the wedding and beg him to stay with her. But he had never asked her leave Terry and never once said he cared for her. Sometimes she thought she could see something in his eyes, like now, but then it would pass and she wouldn’t be sure she had seen anything it at all.

She wanted to stay with Stiles and share his bed each night, but she knew Terry loved her, and she loved him, as well, or thought she did. When she met him he seemed perfect, and all her friends told her how lucky she was and how happy she was going to be. It wasn’t until after she met Stiles that she realized how empty that life would be. Terry was a kind and gentle man, and would make a good husband, but she wanted more than just a good husband. She realized too late that the passion she felt for Stiles would never be present for Terry because Terry didn’t display the passion for her that Stiles did. She needed the heat from her lover to make her own passions roar.

She had started to tell Stiles many times over the last several months that she loved him and wanted to stay with him, but stopped each time before uttering the words, afraid of rejection, afraid she was throwing away what right just because Stiles tickled her libido in a way her future husband couldn’t. If only Terry could make her feel like Stiles did, making love to her with reckless abandon as if he couldn’t control himself.

“I’m here now,” she said softly.

“I see that.”

“I’ll have to go soon.”

“I know.”

She smiled at him. “I think there is something you need to do before I leave.”

He grinned, playing along. “Finish the tattoo?”

Her smiled broadened, enjoying the game and that he was making her work for it even as he hardened against her leg. He was playing dumb but she understood he knew exactly what she was talking about.  “No. I think I’m in the mood to be poked by something other than needles.”

“You are?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured as she nodded slowly, her lips forming a small smile.  

Stiles watched her a moment as her incredibly sexy smile called to him. He resisted the urge to kiss her, but only for a moment, before leaning down and taking her lips.

CHAPTER NINE

“How’s your bed now,” Bridget asked seductively as Stiles pulled back from the kiss.

“Warming up,” he said softly, staring into her eyes as his hand closed around the back of her head. He could feel the darkness roiling inside of him, waiting to be unleashed, but he held it in check until she signaled her desire. She didn’t always want to be fucked, occasionally preferring a slow and easy love making.

God damn! I fucking love it when he looks at me like that!
Bridget met his gaze, knowing that if she challenged him he would come at her hard, and hard was what she wanted. “You want me?” she asked, her lips pulling into a sarcastic smile.

“Yes.”

“Then you’re going to have to take me,” she said as she pushed at him.

He was having none of that and immediately began to overpower her. He pulled her into a torrid kiss as he slapped her hands away and rolled onto her, pinning her to the bed with his weight. She struggled, knowing she had no chance of preventing him from taking her, but she relished the struggle, trying to keep her legs closed as he tried to force them open. Realizing she was losing the battle of strength, she changed her tactics and went on the offensive.

Her legs wrapped around his head and drew him down while she grabbed his hair, pulling him hard into her pussy. He didn’t mind and immediately began to lick and probe her with his tongue as she thrust against his face. He twisted, holding her by the ass as he rolled onto his back, pulling her up to kneel over him. If she wanted to be taken, there was more than one way to make her come.

His hands slid up her body to begin kneading her breasts, taking her right to the edge of where pleasure became pain, but no farther. She held him tight as his tongue and lips thrilled her, holding him to his task.

“Oh…fuck!” she murmured as her pleasure soared. “Fuck…fuck…fuck…” she chanted softly as he wriggled his face, releasing her breasts to pull her more firmly to his mouth. He could feel her twisting up into orgasm so he licked and probed harder with his tongue, pinched and pulled more firmly with his lips, until she began to struggle to get away. For reasons he didn’t understand, she preferred all her orgasm to happen when he was inside of her, but she started this, so he held her fast, determined to finish her.  

Her orgasm washed over her in a great wave, making her moan as she sagged, his arms still tight around her thighs as he continued to subject her to such sweet and erotic torture. She tried to ride it out, but his flicking tongue on her button was too intense to bear and she had to escape. With a soft cry and a hard twist, she rolled to her side, shoving at him, trying to get away from searing pleasure of his tongue.

Realizing she had enough, Stiles let her go, rolling to his knees and coming up with her legs draped over his shoulders. He entered her in a single deep plunge, making her cry out softly once more as her head tipped back.

She had barely recovered from her first climax before he plunged into her, and caused another orgasm to roll over her. She was drowning in pleasure, unable to catch her breath as he drove into her deep, hard and fast. After a seeming eternity she swam up out of the abyss of her orgasm with a great gasp, reaching for him. 

He watched as the tension in her face and body flowed from her as she relaxed out of her orgasm. She reached for him, her face a mask of pleasure that made his blood rush.

She held his head as he looked into her eyes, his need for her clear on his face. When he looked at her like that she felt like the sexiest woman in the world, his intensity feeding her own and giving her mind twisting orgasms unlike any she had before. She pressed up with her legs, needing to reduce the strain. He paused, gasping as he tried to catch his breath as they detangled before she pulled him down to her. He was beginning to glow with sweat and, once again, the thought of him working so hard excited her.

“I want you to come so fucking hard,” she whispered into his ear as she wrapped her legs around him. She held him close, his strong arms going around her and holding her tight as he began to thrust again. The feel of his sweaty body moving against hers added a new dimension to her pleasure, and she whimpered softly.

Having her hold him to her as they fucked, hearing her soft pants and whimpers enflamed him. He plunged into her, pushing himself to orgasm even while holding against the approaching storm. “I’m going to come,” he grunted out, never slowing his pounding hips.

“Come,” she cooed, the idea that he was nearing his climax exciting her.

“I’m going to come,” he repeated, his voice deep and ragged as he strained to hold his rapture.

“Come hard, I want you to come hard…” She had barely breathed out the last word when he grunted, hard and deep, before plunging into her as he reared up, his face twisted in erotic agony.

“Fuck…” he gasped out as if in pain, jerking his head down and burying his chin into his chest before thrusting into her again, a single hard plunge as he ground himself in deep.

She smiled, delighted she could give him such pleasure, but then her smile turned mean. “You better fucking make me come again,” she snarled, flogging him, daring him to do more and knowing he would rise to the challenge.

“You want to come again, you fucking bitch? I’ll fucking make you come again,” he growled back, pulling out and wiping the sweat from his face. He knew she was goading him, having learned that challenging him in some way excited him in ways that he couldn’t understand or explain, and that, in turn, seemed to excite her. He flipped her to her stomach then pulled her up onto her hands and knees. He thought about driving into her and fucking the shit out of her, but then changed his mind. It had been several months since he had last taken her ass, and since he had already come once, he decided it was time to do so again this morning.

Bridget gasped as she felt his cock press against her ass, holding still as he gently teased her open. She lowered her head with a soft moan as he pulled out and then slowly pushed in again, the unexpected position thrilling her. She didn’t have anal sex often, only a few times a year, and she was thankful Stiles was gentle when he needed to be, allowing her to enjoy his cock in her ass without him hurting her.

He wiped his face again, smearing his sweat on her back, smiling as she rocked back into him, impatient to have him all the way in. He began to move, slowly at first, giving her time to adjust as he reached around and under to tickle her clit.

“Oh…” she gasped as he touched her, the feel of his cock in her ass and the stroke of his finger on her button making her squirm. “That’s it,” she whispered as she began to rock.

He let her set the pace for a moment, but as her rocking became harder, he leaned over her back and began adding his own thrusting. She went still and dropped to her elbows. He had come twice last night, and once this morning, so now this was all about her. He continued to softly stroke her pussy as he drove into her, being careful to not be too rough.

“Oh, fuck,” she murmured as her orgasm teased her, surging forward as if to overwhelm her, but then fading back, only to surge forward again a moment later. She was going to come again, but she needed more. “Harder,” she gasped, pushing back into him. “I need you to fuck me harder.”

Now it was his turn to challenge her. “You want it? You’re going to have to earn it.” He reached forward and pulled her up to her hands, but then rolled back, pulling her with him. It took a moment to sort themselves out, but she finally settled on him, leaning back with arms to either side of his shoulders. She began to pound her ass onto him as he kneaded her breasts, rolling her erect nipples gently between his fingers.

“Oh…oh…oh…” she gasped, dripping with sweat, trying to bring her orgasm to her. She could almost get there but then it would slip away. “Mmm…” she whimpered, her hips rising and falling furiously. She was nearly out of gas, exhausted from her long minutes of effort, but her climax was surging forward again and she strained for it. “Ah…fuck!” she barked as she grappled with her orgasm, pulling it to her, holding it tight until is surrounded her in its sensual embrace.

She stopped thrusting, falling back into his chest as she moaned softly before relaxing, gasping and mewling from her efforts and her climax. He surrounded her with his arms and held her.

“Did you come again?” she asked softly.

“No. You want to keep going?” he teased.

She giggled. “No…you wore my ass out this morning.” With a groan she pulled his still hard cock from her ass and collapsed onto the bed in a heap beside him before turning to crawl back into his arms. “You can be such an asshole sometimes, you know that?” she asked before kissing him softly on the lips.

“What did I do?” he asked in mock outrage. “You said for me to make you come. Well, you came.”

“Yeah, but you made me do all the work.”

“Why can’t you stay?” he asked as Bridget skinned into her party dress after her shower.

“I need to go home and change. I might look fabulous, but this isn’t the most comfortable thing I own,” she said with a grin.

He wanted to offer her a ride back to her car, but they had kept their relationship completely quiet. The only time they had been out in public together was when he met her in Waynesville for a weekend. “But you’ll be back to finish the tat later?”

She felt her heart breaking. Each time she left him she felt guilty for treating him the way she did, using him for her amusement. He didn’t seem to mind, but it was easier when it was just about the sex because now that she cared for him, it hurt and it made her feel bad about herself. “Yeah. I have a few errands to run, then I will be back.”

He nodded, refusing to grovel for her. If she wanted to leave, then she could and he wouldn’t try to stop her. “Give me a call to let me know you are leaving in case I am with a customer.”

She nodded just as a car horn sounded outside. She stepped in close and kissed him softly, hoping he would ask her to stay this time. He accepted the kiss but said nothing. With a smile and caress of his cheek, she stepped back. “See you in a bit.”

“I’ll be here.” When the door closed behind her he waited until he heard the cab door slam before taking a deep, cleansing breath, and moving to the back part of the house to get cleaned up. He would be opening in about three hours, and he needed to get ready.

Bridget gave the driver the address to Cutters, then settled back into the seat. With almost super-human effort, she was able to limit herself to a single tear rolling down her cheek.

***

Bridget held herself together until she reached her apartment, trying to choke back the frustration and anger that stirred inside of her. As she thumbed through her mail she came across a brochure from the villa in Italy where she and Terry would be staying on their honeymoon. She had been receiving them for months, but as she stared at it an impotent rage came over her.

I don’t want to go to fucking Italy! I don’t want to get fucking married! I don’t want to be Mrs. Terry fucking Lewis! I hate my fucking life!
She threw the mail across the room, an envelope offering her another credit card careening off a lamp shade. She wanted to scream in frustration, to rage against the world and herself for what she had done. She created this mess, and she knew it, but she didn’t know how to get out of it.

She should call off the wedding, but her parents would be devastated, doubly so after they found out she had been having an affair through the entire engagement. They were good, upstanding people, unselfish and kind. They wouldn’t understand how she could throw away everything, the love of a good man, a man they admired and respected, for Stiles, a tattoo artist and a member of the Black Aces Motorcycle Club. She was certain if they ever learned the Aces secret, they wouldn’t hesitate to report them to the police. They would never accept him and she would be forced to choose between her family and the man she loved.

But that paled in comparison to what she would do to Terry. She had started seeing Stiles before Terry proposed and while Stiles had offered to back away, she hadn’t wanted him to. For ten months she had all but cuckolded Terry, having sex with Stiles while still sleeping with him.