“I won’t have my license for another six months,” I admitted. “I can’t go full-time and still work until three every morning.”
Darcy nodded, looking thoughtful. Then we were at the gate again. I passed inside to find Puck and Painter filling paper plates at the food table.
“Go play with your boy,” Darcy told me. “Enjoy your night off together.”
Nodding eagerly I walked toward him, noting that the party was starting to pick up outside. Several girls were dancing and one had pulled off her shirt. Puck saw me and grinned, handing over a cup of beer.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Only way the poor bastard gets laid,” Painter pointed out. “You should throw him a pity fuck later. Otherwise he’ll whine like a little bitch all night. Gets old.”
“Fuck off,” Puck told him, pulling me in for a kiss. He tasted good, like whiskey. I never did figure out what happened to the beer I was holding, because five seconds later my legs were around his waist and he was walking across the grass toward the back of the lot. His hard cock pressed between my legs and my fingers dug into his hair desperately.
I heard a few whoops and catcalls, and for a second I flashed on a memory of a party years ago. One where another biker had hauled me off into the darkness. Hauled me off and hurt me.
Then we reached the back and Puck set me on a wooden table.
“Fuck, I’m crazy about you,” he muttered, and the memory faded. He stepped into me, leaving no doubt just how much he meant his words. “I know you were nervous about tonight, but you’re doing great. Tell me to stop. Otherwise I’m fucking you right here, Becca. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”
Music still filled the air, but back here darkness cradled us. It felt strangely private, despite the crowd, and a screen of low bushes blocked us off for the most part. I felt like I should protest . . . I just couldn’t remember why. Puck tugged down my tank and scooped my breast up out of my bra. Then his mouth covered it and lust took over. I fell back across the table as he followed me down, hands roaming.
That’s when I realized I’d made a very serious tactical error.
“Jesus Christ, these jeans are tight,” he grunted when he came up for air. I felt his fingers at my waist, trying to slip inside and failing. “Like a goddamned chastity belt.”
I bit back a giggle, then pushed at his chest.
“Let me up and I’ll fix it.” He growled but pulled back to give me space. I scooted down and hopped off the table, reaching for my fly. Unfortunately, that made me think of his fly and I got distracted. Seconds later I had his cock out, jacking it hard with my hand as he groaned.
The sound reminded me of our first night together—it’d been good at first. Real good.
Dropping to my knees, I decided I’d make it good again.
“Becca . . .”
I laughed as I drew him in deep, letting the sound’s vibrations surround him. I tasted a hint of salty pre-come as my fingers found his balls. Puck swayed, then his hand caught my head and he started guiding me.
“I could watch you like this for hours,” he said. “Kneeling in front of me. Lips all wet and shiny from sucking my cock. Just needs one more thing.”
Suddenly his fingers were tugging at my hair, pulling out the braid as my hair fell around my shoulders. I opened my mouth and took him back inside, savoring the taste. No matter what else happened tomorrow, in that moment Puck Redhouse belonged to me, and me alone.
PUCK
Mouth or cunt? Fuck, I couldn’t decide which I loved more. I’d learned something, though—no matter where I found myself inside Becca’s body, I wanted to stay there forever. Was definitely throwing out those fuckin’ jeans of hers tomorrow, though. Doesn’t matter how fuckable a woman looks in a pair of pants if you can’t get them off when it’s time to tap ass.
Becca’s tongue traced the bottom of my cock as her fingers worked my nuts. She kept that up I’d be coming soon. Just like that, I made my decision.
Cunt.
Tugging on her hair I pulled free, then pulled her to stand in front of me. A satisfied smile curved that sweet mouth of hers. My hands dropped to her waist, fumbling with her jeans.
“Get those things down,” I growled, full of frustrated need. Her eyes widened.
“I thought . . . ?”
“Pull down your fucking pants,” I repeated, reaching down to grab my cock. “I want in. Now.”
Desire darkened her expression. In the distance I heard shouting, but I didn’t give a flying fuck what might be happening at the party. Becca reached for her pants, unzipping them and shimmying them to her hips with a twitch of her butt.
“Shit, I have these boots on . . .”
I caught her shoulders and turned her, pushing her down across the table. Her hands went out as she caught her weight. Then my cock was poking her ass. Memories hit me—how hot she’d been, how tight. I really, really wanted to get back inside there. Her body stiffened, and I rubbed her hip then reached between us to find her cunt, slick and sweet.
Yeah, she was ready.
Somehow I managed to hold off long enough to slide on a condom. Needed to get her on the Pill ASAP—riding her bareback the other night had been incredible. Wanted her like that all the time. The condom snapped into place and then I slid home, filling her with one hard thrust of my hips. Becca squealed and I caught her shoulders, controlling every move of her body.
It belonged to me now.
I started out with strong, steady strokes, although I couldn’t go as deep as usual. Her pants pinned her legs together awkwardly. Somehow it still worked—she actually squeezed me harder this way. Every movement carried me closer, come pooling in my balls. I tensed, stopping for a second because I wasn’t ready to blow just yet.