Hyde: Northern Grizzlies MC Next Generation Book 1, page 9
He slides a thumb into both sides of my bra, uncovering my nipples while leaving the satin support in place so they’re pushed closer together. The warmth of the look he gives them causes my blush to deepen, and I arch my back, anxious for his lips on my skin again.
“Leslee, I’m gonna take my time popping your cherry.” His low voice has me frowning and I know by the amused look on his face, he can see the impatience written all over mine. “You try to hurry me along and it’ll be dawn before I let you come. Understand?”
Hyde
This has been the longest four days of my life.
Constantly pretending to ignore her as she stretched her long legs, or the times she boob-bumped me while serving up food, but most of all, it’s how easy it is to talk to her, laugh with her, and how those amber eyes follow me around the room.
It takes every ounce of control that I possess, not to pull my cock out and sink it into her. If it was anyone else, I’d probably be close to coming by now. Just not with Leslee.
She’s too special for anything less than magic.
So, for now, I’ll continue to ignore the wet heat I feel coming from her core every time she rubs her pussy up and down my wood.
After she nods and lets out another of her little sighs, I lean in to suckle and nip her sweet tits. Her nipples are so hard it looks painful, but the rapid beat of her heart tells me how much she’s enjoying my touch.
Reaching down, I unsnap her shorts and shove one side down before she starts wiggling out of them.
My control nearly snaps when I realize she wasn’t wearing panties, I lightly smack her pussy.
“Forget something?” I ask, sliding my large paw down over her nicely trimmed slit. I’m just about to seek out her clit when I rear back—remembering why we’re here.
“Shit! Stay there,” I ground out the words.
With another quick kiss to one of her nipples in an attempt to soften my words, I cross back out to the door, setting the alarm for the property after quickly flipping through the video feeds.
Then I take a quick detour to my room, to grab protection and join Leslee again. She’s sitting on the side of the bed, with the blanket around her shoulders, looking worried.
“I forgot to set the alarm,” I explain to her and smile at the relief in her eyes until they fall on the box in my hand.
“Protecting me on multiple fronts, huh?” she whispers.
“My last test was clean,” I reassure her, then shrug before I admit the truth. “I saw these at the liquor store the other day.”
“Why have you waited so long?” She pouts as I kneel in front of her.
“I kept telling myself I wouldn’t touch you.”
Reaching under her knees, I suddenly lift them and she lets out a squeal as she finds herself on her back with my mouth over her pussy. Sticking my tongue right up into her core, I savor the taste of her, lapping at her as she settles her legs over my shoulders.
Spreading her lips apart, I take my time exploring her and after gently securing her clit in between my teeth, I tease that nub as I slowly slip my finger inside of her pussy.
Christ, she’s tight, I think and my dick starts to pulse in rhythm with the light thrusting of my digit. As her body starts to tremble, with her orgasm nearing, I slide a second finger in her, gently scissoring them to make space for my cock.
Reaching my hand down, I squeeze my dick, willing him to wait his turn as I take care of my woman. Looking up at her body just as she reaches her climax, I pull my fingers out of her to lick up her finish. Not that I’m close to done with her.
I shift my mouth back up to her clit and her body tenses; a moan escapes her when I lick her again, over and over until her nearly limp body responds. Leslee braces her foot on my shoulder and her hips start to roll with the harsh rhythm I’m setting, licking her harder and faster even when her moans sound like pleas.
When I feel her pelvis spasming for the second time in a handful of minutes, I stand up, fitting my dick against her slick entrance, and thrust into her. With her gasp of pain, I lean one of my knees down on the bed beside her, keeping one of her legs over my shoulder—I stretch her wide open while I keep my gaze on her, waiting for permission to continue.
“Don’t fight me, baby.” My voice is rough with the strain of keeping still as her muscles clamp around my cock. “Your pussy is going to drain me before I can make you come again.”
“I’m okay,” she whispers, opening her eyes before nodding her head, more to herself than to me.
I shift, not pulling back more than an inch or two, thrusting back into her as a test. A huff of air escapes her lips before she reaches up to pull my head down to hers.
“More,” she says, our mouths nearly touching. “I need more.”
“So do I, baby. So do I,” I reply, pleased at the desire I see in her eyes. This time, as I’m thrusting back into her, she lifts her hips to meet mine. Awkward at first, she slowly picks up a rhythm. One that belongs just to us.
Her orgasm brings mine on. I wrap my hand around her neck, my eyes boring into hers as my release fills the barrier between our bodies.
Moving her up, fully onto the bed, I leave her long enough to dispose of the condom and bring a cloth to clean her pussy.
“Come here,” I say, grinning at her when we momentarily play tug-of-war with the sheet.
Kicking it down to the end of the bed, I pull her up against my body and toss one of my legs over her hip.
I kiss the pink that flares on her cheek and trail my fingers over her body, memorizing her.
“You gonna be shy with me after all that?” I ask her.
“Joe, I…” she starts to say, stopping to give me a self-deprecating smile instead. “Did you enjoy it?”
“I’ve never come so hard in my life,” I try to reassure her, but I’ve never been that good expressing my feelings. “Are you sore? Was I too rough with you?”
“I think I might like it rough,” Leslee admits, her voice muffled against my shoulder where her lips have been moving over my collarbone.
Her words go straight to my dick, getting a giggle from my girl when he prods her thigh.
“But I am a little sore right now,” she confesses, grinning up at me.
“Sleep for a bit,” I tell her, keeping her safe in the circle of my arms.
One thing’s for certain, I may be going to hell for making her mine, but I’m going to enjoy every second I get with her. And if, by some chance Gunner lets me live, I swear to myself she’ll never regret it.
*
“Please, Joe, I need your cock,” she begs me and I wonder if she has any idea how she’s wrecked me these past eighteen hours.
My dick feels like it’s been through a wringer, but he never hesitates to stand tall once our lips meet.
Or when she scoots her ass back against me when I’m letting her sleep.
Or when we’re lying facing each other, an arm’s length apart, sharing our stories or memories.
“It’s the last condom,” I warn her, shaking the box in the hope that more will materialize.
“Alex thought of everything when she rebuilt this place, there has to be a stash of condoms somewhere,” Leslee replies, giving me a lopsided grin as her fingers dance their way across my chest.
It’s when she slides her leg up over my hip and I see the unguarded wince of pain, that I decide against another round.
“Come on, why don’t I show you around town?” I counter, slapping her ass in an effort to get her moving. “We’ll go grab…um, whatever meal is appropriate for whatever time it is.”
“Are you tired of my cooking already?” she asks with a laugh.
“I’ll never be tired of your cooking,” I reassure her, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed has her following close behind, weakening my resolve as she presses her tits against my back and nibbles on my earlobe. “Now get dressed or I’ll shove you into the truck naked.”
“Fine. I understand, you know,” she says, the sigh she lets out warns me a zinger is coming. “At your age, your stamina is starting to wane.”
I let her take the win, all the while thinking of how I’ll pay her back for that statement.
Chapter 9
Hyde
“Yeah, I’ll have another beer and my Ol’ Lady and I will both have a cheeseburger, medium, hers with waffle fries and sweet potato fries for me,” I tell the waitress, not looking up at her as I slide the menus in her direction.
She stands over us, tapping her pen against the pad of paper like she’s expecting me to take my eyes off of my woman. Naw, all I’m interested in is the pretty blush that spreads across Leslee’s cheeks as her eyes widen in surprise.
The waitress finally gets the hint and walks away.
“Ol’ Lady?” She hesitantly repeats my words back to me. “Your Ol’ Lady?”
“I don’t know why you look so surprised. You’ve been that since I popped your cherry,” I tell Leslee before I take the final swig of beer from my glass and ignore the self-satisfied smile on her lips.
“I wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted. You always give me shit…”
“Why? ‘Cause I don’t let you run over me like you do everyone else? Yeah, I give you shit because no one else does, consider it a character builder. But I never would have fed you my cock if I wasn’t gonna wife you up.”
Reaching behind her head, I grab her braid and tilt her face back up at me, giving me a full view of her thoughts. Thankfully, I can read her like a book. Between the happiness in her eyes and the way her lower lip is trembling, I know she’s happy but on the verge of crying also.
It’s the blush that’s spreading downward from her cheeks that has me looking at her cleavage, peeking out from her V-neck shirt and teasing my cock when I see the matching pink spreading down her body.
Shoving my beer mug toward the other side of the scarred, wooden table, I stick my finger between her tits at the lowest point of the V and slowly drag it up until it’s under Leslee’s chin. At my touch, her eyes dart around to see if anyone’s paying attention; and yeah, I already know we have an audience.
“What have I said about showing these off to others?” I harshly ask her.
“I like V-necks, you’re just going to have to live with that.” Leslee’s fire overrides her embarrassment at being touched in public and she straightens her shoulders, jutting her chest up and out.
“Is everything alright here?” the waitress asks, heavily setting my new beer down and giving me a hard look before hesitantly reaching out to squeeze Leslee’s shoulder. “Do you need me to call someone for you, dear?”
Leslee’s eyes darken for a moment, before she realizes the implications and again, surprises me with the maturity of her response.
“Thank you for asking, ma’am,” she starts, reaching up to thread her fingers through mine, moving my hand from her chin to her thigh. “We’re good.”
Taking the hint myself, I release Leslee’s braid and grin at the waitress.
“Okay, you let any of us know if that changes,” the woman replies, before giving me a hard look. “You should know the owner trained the security camera on you, so we’ll have plenty of footage to show any law enforcement types that come asking.”
“Those burgers almost ready?” I ask, feigning boredom. “And another cola for my Ol’ Lady would be great.”
“Shit, so much for a lowkey place that’s off the radar,” Leslee whispers when the waitress leaves us.
“Yeah, but now we gotta sit here and eat slowly.”
“And hope to hell that my friends don’t have fake badges,” she adds, squirming in her seat.
I can’t help my smirk when I lean over to her, my whiskers barely touching her cheek. “That tight pussy’s all wet for me again, isn’t it?”
“Ha! You wish,” she sasses back, lifting her nose up in defiance.
“Tonight, I’m going to give you a little taste of what happens when you lie to your man,” I promise her. Catching sight of the waitress approaching with our food, I lean back in my seat and try to ignore the obvious sight of Leslee’s nipples as they make themselves known through her lightly padded bra.
Eating our burgers, I ignore the watchful gazes of bartender and waitress, unabashedly reaching over to push a finger past my girl’s lips at one point. Leslee’s amber eyes take on a hazy glow when she tentatively starts to suck my digit, but the quick flash in them should have warned me—I’ll blame the fact that my blood has all rerouted to my dick—and the nip that she gives me has me yanking my hand back.
“What do you want to do the rest of today?” I ask her, after seeing the twinkle in her eyes again. “Outside the cabin, my darling sex fiend.”
“Are you tired of me already?” she asks, her expression feigning a pained look.
“Never. And don’t you dare say: sex in the woods,” I answer as I try to stay a step ahead of her. I’m find it impossible to stop myself from kissing her when she looks annoyed that I knew what she would say.
“Bowling,” she replies when our lips part.
I laugh, thinking she’s kidding until I see the look on her face. “Really? Hell, I haven’t bowled since your eleventh birthday party.”
“That was my tenth,” she answers. “And you didn’t bowl, you played pool with the guys.”
“Because I hate those fucking shoes,” I tell her, but the second I see her cross her arms over her chest, I know we’re going bowling. “You know, when you squeeze your tits together like that, it reminds me that I haven’t fucked them yet.”
“Bowling or back to the cabin to try that, then,” she counters, standing her ground.
“Just remember,” I tell her, reaching for my wallet and tossing enough cash down to cover the tab and tip. “You aren’t ten anymore, I’m not going to let you win.”
“That won’t be a problem,” she sasses back, threading her fingers through mine as she hurries to meet my stride as I head outside.
Leslee
Joe’s shoulders are tight with frustration as he scans the table in front of him. I already know the outcome, but I’ll let him give it a whirl anyway.
Sometimes I drive Xander and his friends to the local bowling alley, and while I’m not great, as Joe said, he doesn’t bowl at all.
After he proved to be zero challenge at bowling, Joe suggested pool; naturally thinking he’d have the upper hand. And while he may play a few times a month, I was practically raised in a clubhouse. As a toddler, Dad would lift me up onto the table and tell me how to line up a shot. Some of my friend’s parents even have pool tables instead of dining tables.
I suggested bowling to fuck with him, but right now, as he’s about to lose his third round of pool to me—I’m hoping it’s really sinking in that I can hold my own in his world.
“Man, why don’t you move along and let someone who knows how to handle their stick have some fun with her?” Some big, sweaty dude sneers, bracing his hands on the table across from where Joe is standing before running his eyes up and down my body.
Joe slightly shifts before making eye contact with me and when I look down, it’s to see that the eight ball is now directly lined up between the pocket and the cue ball. He makes a clicking sound before he shoots and neither of us have to look down to see the outcome.
“I win,” I needlessly announce, clapping my hands in delight and crossing to kiss him.
“Winner gets to pick their prize,” Joe drawls out the words like it was his plan all along, and gives me a kiss when I wrap my arms around his neck; completely ignoring the cretin and a couple of his friends who have wandered our way.
“Breakfast in bed,” I announce just loud enough for our audience to hear, trying to keep a serious expression on my face—but I know my eyes are telling him exactly what I want.
“Only about nine hours between now and then,” he replies, shifting his left foot back, allowing him to bend and toss me over his shoulder. “Better get a move on.”
Holding onto the back of his cut, I smile to myself, happy that he doesn’t allow his ego to override his good sense and challenge a guy who probably knows half the men in the bar. Not to mention the local cops.
That’s the thing about Joe, he’s tall with wide shoulders but otherwise lithe enough not to look too worrisome. Men who don’t know him would probably feel comfortable picking a fight with him.
One of the, I’m sure, many things that I know, that those men don’t? The result would be the same as if they had fought my dad. Considering he’s the one who trained Joe.
*
Getting back to the cabin, Joe seems determined not to touch me. Yes, I’m a bit sore, but it’s like my body is craving him and that’s more frustrating than any discomfort I’d feel by taking him again.
After he grabs a beer, he pauses to mix some of the vodka with a ginger ale and bring that to where I’m already seated on the couch.
“Contributing to the delinquency of a minor?” I raise an eyebrow at him, taking a sip.
“Eighteen’s old enough. Besides, I’ve contributed to it a dozen times over the past few days,” he responds with a growl which quickly turns into a laugh as I straddle his lap the moment he sits down.
“Joe,” I say his name hesitantly, feeling a little insecure. Especially after he grunts. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
Looking me square in the eyes, he leans in to lightly kiss my lips. “No. You’re kind of a troll.”
“Asshole!” I growl, and shove at his chest.
“Yeah, I mean, I think you’re dynamite in the sack, but your legs are too long.” His left arm has me trapped, while he takes a long sip of beer with his free hand. “And your hair, I mean the way the sun hits it, suddenly the light red bits make you look like a ginger instead of a blonde. Just makes it hard to look at you.”
“Oh, really?” I try to sound annoyed even though I’m starting to get into his insults. “At least I’m funny, I guess.”
