I pulled away, barely able to hold back from entering her bareback, and reached for a condom. She watched with hooded eyes as I tore the foil package open with my teeth and slid the layer of latex over my cock. She licked her lips and it was all I needed. As I leaned down to kiss her, I put myself right where I needed to be and with my mouth moving over hers, pushed deep into her tight body, right to the very hilt. She moaned into my kiss and dug her nails into the muscles of my back, her hips moving in a leisurely rhythm to meet every stroke as I slowly made love to her.
I couldn’t stop kissing her. Loving her.
Our bodies and panted breaths were all the guidance we needed as we made love, long and slow, deep and hard.
When I knew she was close, I slowed down, grinding my pelvis into hers, my arms holding me up so I could look into her beautiful face as I moved deep and slow into her body. And she didn’t look away, so I knew she could feel it, too. What we were doing, what was happening between us, we were awakening fires that not even twelve years could extinguish.
I wanted to tell her I loved her. But words would break the spell. So I showed her with my body, with every deep thrust of my hips, with every moan and kiss into her mouth, with every stroke of my tongue against hers.
Christ, I love her. I love her so damn much.
“Cade . . .” she moaned breathlessly.
She was going to come. Her sweet, sweet pussy clenched tightly around me, pulsing as her orgasm consumed her, and Jesus Christ, there was only so much one man could take. This was bliss.
Pure. Fucking. Bliss.
I moaned into her mouth and she gripped me tighter with her legs and rocked harder. It took everything I had not to come. I had waited a long time for this and wanted it to last all night. But she felt too good—this felt too good—and out of nowhere, the ecstasy overcame me.
“Oh God, Indy…” I grabbed her face between my palms, and kissed her as hard as I could. I let go of my restraint, and spilled hard into the girl I had lost once, but who I would never let go of again.
“Why are you in such a cheerful fucking mood?” Bull asked when I put a beer down in front of him. We were about to start chapel. “Got something to do with an old flame being back in town?”
“Maybe,” I shrugged, taking a seat at the table. “Or maybe I’m just a happy guy.”
“I think he lost his virginity last night,” Isaac piped up, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette.
“You finally pop your cherry, son? Good on you.” Joker patted my shoulder as he joined us at the table.
“Can’t a guy smile without all you dicks thinking something of it?”
“That smile has pussy written all over it,” Bull said.
“Literally, has pussy all over it,” Isaac added.
I gave all of them a good look at my middle finger. “Jealous, ladies?”
“Hell yeah!” Joker said, sliding into his chair and dancing his beer bottle around on the table with one finger. “If I had a woman like that, man—!”
I stopped Joker from finishing his sentence with a look. If he started talking smack about my girl the way he talked about his club girls, then I was going to put that damn beer bottle right where the sun didn’t shine.
“Right, let’s get down to business,” Bull said. “Is everything organized for Jackie’s send-off tomorrow?”
Grunt leaned forward. As SIA, it was his responsibility to oversee the funeral arrangements with the family.
“It’s all good. Everything is organized,” he said. “And I gotta say, man, Mrs. Stephens is one awesome chick. She organizes things with military precision.”
Mrs. Stephens was like a personal assistant to the club. She helped out with organizing events, took care of the finer details when it came to ensuring things went off without a hitch, and was even known to help Tito out with events at Head Quarters. You knew things were done right when she was entrusted to do them.
Somewhere in her forties, she was nothing like the women of the MC. She dressed in knee-length skirts and cardigans, and looked like she was going to teach math class. But while she looked conservative, she didn’t bat an eyelid at ordering six girls and a Jell-O wrestling pool for a night’s entertainment.
Grunt stood up. “Being that it’s the day before the funeral of one of our fallen…” The door to the chapel opened and Mrs. Stephens appeared carrying a tray of shot glasses, Cubans, and a bottle of Chivas Regal whiskey. She put a shot glass down in front of each King and filled it with the $5,000 whiskey, placed the Cuban beside it, and then left without a word.