15. Happiness is an inside job.

Don’t assign anyone else that

much power over your life.

- HPLYRIKZ.COM

I feel the woman at my side stir, rousing me further from my deep, sated sleep. We’re both still naked from a long night of me proving just how much she really is mine. Pulling her closer, I line my cock up and sink into her from behind.

I’ll never have enough of her or her body; the woman keeps me on my toes. I’m quickly learning the only way to keep her temper from lashing out at me is to keep her satisfied with my cock. Not that I mind in the slightest. I’m getting to know every inch of her delectable body, and a pleased Chevelle is even sexier than a pissed off Chevelle.

“Mmm, again?” she mumbles sleepily, and I push farther, sinking deeply into her warm sheath.

“As much as possible,” I groan against the back of her neck, pushing her hair out of my face, and breathe her in. “You smell so damn good. Like rain and springtime.”

With a quiet laugh, she replies huskily, “I smell like your soap.”

“I know, and I like how my soap smells.”

She snickers, and I find myself grinning like an idiot against her skin. She asks, “No more fucking this morning?”

“I’m tired. Besides you said you were sore the last time,” I rumble and slowly plunge into her again, my hand skirting over her ribs, stopping to cup her full, heavy breasts.

“Mmm, I should’ve believed you about the eight inches thing. I thought you were full of it. Turns out I’m full of it.”

“You’re still chirping about that?” I groan as my cock throbs, encased in her welcoming core.

“It’s impressive.”

“You needed to be fucked badly, sweetie. Your pussy belongs on my cock.” I nip at her neck, pulling my hips back to sink into her again, driving my pleasure on. “Fuck, you’re good for my ego.” Reaching down I seek out her clit. We’re old friends by now with how well I know that part of her body after merely one night.

Her head turns, burying her mouth in my pillow as she moans loudly and bites down. I’ve discovered just the way to touch her to make her beg me for more. I had her shooting off like the Fourth of July all night long. I’m not going to let her forget who’s in control of her pleasure. I’ll give it again and again until it’s seared into her memory.

“You’re gonna give it to me easily today then?”

Her bite on my pillow releases as she turns toward me as much as she can. “You got it easily last night too,” she replies huskily, her voice laced with desire and sleep. Her leg hikes behind her, hooking over my thigh so I can go in deeper.

Bullshit. She fought me at every turn, making me work for her orgasms. She’s stubborn, but I love a good challenge. “What can I say, your tight pussy likes me. It can’t seem to get enough of my cock making it come.”

Tucking my arm around her chest, I pick us up until I’m on my knees with her back pressed firmly against my chest. My free arm wraps around her, my palm landing on her core, grinding against her clit. My other plays with her breasts, squeezing and caressing her nipples with my fingertips. Her head falls back, resting on my shoulder. Her eyes stay closed with her mouth open, whimpering and moaning with my caresses.

My hips rock hers, my shaft thrusting into its own rhythm drawing a soft whimper from her. Her head turns to watch my face. “See, you shouldn’t be able to move like that without breaking contact.” The vixen smiles as she adds, “Eight inches really makes a difference.”

“Nah,” I rasp, turning to meet her lips. “You haven’t been fucked properly before, that’s all. Now you know that no motherfucker can do what I can.” I take her mouth—morning breath be damned. I want to feel her tongue against mine. I was just kissing her hours ago, but it feels like it’s been too long since we’ve had that contact. Her center tightens around me, already starting to milk my length as her climax draws near.

Breaking my hold on her breast, I use my arm for balance and lean us back until I’m lying flat on my back, impaling my cock into her heat in another position. Our mouths break apart in the move, and the change draws a deeper whimper from her. It’s the perfect spot for me to play with her sensitive nub.

Her legs fall open, spread completely apart for me. Each leg rests across each of my thick, muscular thighs. Her long locks fall off the side of my shoulder, and I catch the scent of my shampoo as well. I like this, having my smell everywhere when it comes to Chevelle.

“Yes, oh yes,” she cries deliciously.

I tilt her head farther off to the side and draw her skin between my lips to suck. She starts to shoot off me, but I hold her to me tightly. One hand continues to rub her pussy ruthlessly, the other wraps securely around her chest. My hand reaches up, gripping her neck in place, bracing her body to mine.

My moves coax the orgasm from her while I mark her so severely, the delicate tanned skin bruises with a deep purple hue. She’ll wear it for the next few weeks to come before it fully disappears. Hell, something buried down wants me to bite her and draw blood. I’ve never had the feeling like that before, but I have this insatiable need for everyone to know she’s taken. And to know death will follow them if they touch her.

Chevelle screams my name loudly, as the pleasure fully blooms over her body. I’m slowly wearing down her resolve toward me. Her tight, wet core squeezes my thickness so tightly, I follow her, pumping my own pleasure into her. Not only am I wearing her down, but I’m falling farther down the rabbit hole when it comes to her.

I hold her to me as I inhale and exhale a few times deeply, catching my breath and come down from the intense climax. The woman steals a piece of my soul each time I take her. Morning sex is one of my favorite things with her, no doubt. It’s passionate, the pleasure reached easily, and so damn fulfilling.

When my arms finally fall away, she rolls off me to the side. Her hand flies to the spot showing the world that she’s taken. “You marked me!” She hisses and glares. She can try to be pissed, but her eyes are still glazed over from how much she enjoyed it. The look makes me want to fuck her—hard this time.

“And?” My brow lifts, and I shrug, not fazed in the slightest bit at her irritation.

“I don’t enjoy going around with hickeys on my neck. I have a business to run, and I’ll look cheap.”

“You’re wrong,” I argue. “You look like a woman who’s been thoroughly enjoyed. A woman that’s been claimed and has a man. A woman not to be fucked with by anyone with a cock in their pants.”

She throws her arms up and huffs. “Men won’t take me seriously, especially when it comes to cars. They’ll see this mark and then look for a man, instead of taking me seriously.”

“Then they’ll find me right next to you, and I’ll tell them you run The Pit.”

“You don’t understand, Mercenary. I don’t want them to look for a man at all. They should see me in charge.”

“Excuse me? Too fucking bad, because I’ll be there and if any of them disrespect you, I’ll knock their fucking teeth out.”

“Some woman may fall at your feet hearing you proclaim that Tarzan crap, but I can take care of myself. I happen to enjoy doing the knocking out with my own two fists.”

“Fucking shit, you’re a pain in the ass.”

She climbs out of bed and searches out her shorts and one of my shirts.

“What are you doing?”

“Going home.” Chevelle sulks acting every bit of the flustered woman she was just claiming she isn’t. She busily pulls her clothes on and covers up that beautiful body that I was lucky enough to get very acquainted with last night.

I jump out of bed and pull on a clean pair of jeans, garnering her attention.

“What are you doing?”

“Going with you.” I shrug, gearing myself up for an argument. She’ll no doubt have something to say especially right after I put a dark purple, huge hickey on her throat.

“Uh, no...” Chevelle trails off and shakes her head. She continues searching under random objects for her other shoe.

“You’re not going back there alone. We don’t know if there are Iron Fists waiting for you to return, and my bike’s still there. We came in your car, remember?”

She sighs. “Fine, but we’re stopping to get breakfast on the way, and since you want to be all manly, you’re buying,” she grumbles, and I yank on my shirt.

“Hard deal, but I think I can manage being forced to eat and pay.” I tug on my boots, ignoring what I’m sure is an eye-roll directed my way.

We ended up going back to the taco shack to pick up breakfast burritos and thankfully the dumbass from yesterday wasn’t working again. I don’t think I could’ve handled seeing him eye my woman right after I’ve claimed her. I’d probably break his frail little beta male neck.

“Does it bother you that I don’t cook?” Chevelle peers at me curiously. We’re in the middle of eating after doing a search of The Pit. It was all clear, so now I’m enjoying nearly cold eggs, bacon, and cheese wrapped in a freshly made tortilla.

I shake my head. “Nah, why would I give a shit if you can cook?”

“Because I’m a woman.” Her gaze flicks to the ground, and it has my own curiosity flickering to life. Is she actually nervous about what I think and over something so insignificant?

“That’s pretty damn sexist,” I mutter around my mouthful.

“I know, but most of the men I’ve come across tend to think something’s wrong with me.”

I swallow. “Well, for one, I’m not most men. And for another thing, they’re fucking stupid. I’m used to eating out or my own cooking. I don’t give a fuck if it’s got to stay that way either. If I get too hungry, I could always just feast on your pussy.”

She bites her bottom lip, her neck flushing at my suggestion and her gaze grows thoughtful. “What’s your story, cupcake?”

I nearly choke on the new bite I’ve taken. “Uh, what?” It’s so out of the blue that my mind spins over her question.

“What happened to make you decide to become a hard-ass biker? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re nothing like I’d expected when you first came to The Pit.”

I swallow and offer her a smile. “Believe it or not, nothing.”

“I’m not buying it,” she admits, biting off her own mouthful of burrito.

“You don’t have to, but it’s true. I grew up with both of my parents, they’re good people. I had a fun childhood, well, besides normal hormones and teenage shit. My family had enough money to get by, and I have an older brother who’s a doctor.”

“You’re shitting me!” She stares at me, chewing slowly.

“Nope, I was fortunate in that department.”

“Are you the black sheep or something, at least?”

I snort. “Why, because I ride a motorcycle, enjoy a good fist fight, like my liquor, and enjoy pussy more than the average feeble male?”

She nods, being completely honest with me.

“No, sweetie, my family loves me, rough and wild and all.”

“You’re lucky.”

I nod. “I am. Got my first motorcycle in high school. I had a part-time job, and the bike was the first transportation I could afford. The rest is history. What about you?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well, besides the fact that you just bombarded me with all those questions? Because I want to know more about you than just your attitude and tight pussy.”

Her cheeks tint, and I grin again. It’s hard not to smile when she’s sitting here all quiet and sweet, eating her breakfast and has made me come all night long. Usually, she tough as nails closed off Chevelle. I like her like this.

She tucks a long dark lock behind her ear and shrugs. “Not much to tell. I grew up on the streets.”

“On the streets? Here?”

“No, in Houston. I ended up here by accident.”

I nod, wanting to hear more. I want her to tell me everything there is to know when it comes to her. “And your family?”

“I have none.” She shrugs, and I find it hard to believe that she’s so unaffected. I may be a dick and all, but I still love my parents and sibling.

“Wait, you’re an orphan.” It’s more of a statement than a question as the thought hits me.

She swallows. “Yes.”

“Weren’t you in foster care or something?” The thought of her alone all this time has my stomach in knots. No wonder she can easily be so closed off and cynical. It’s how she’s learned to protect herself on the inside.

“They tried, but I ran away.”

“And no one caught you?” My sneaky girl. Can’t say that surprises me. Chevelle likes to prove to everyone and herself that she needs nor wants anyone.

She clears her throat, growing tense. “No, I adapted.” I can feel her closing off, so I drop it for now, but I still want to know.

“Damn, those burritos were good.” I rub my hands over my stomach drawing her eyes to the taut, muscular area.

Her shoulders relax as she takes the subject change with ease. “I love that place. Eighty percent of their monthly sales probably comes from me.”

“That’s a lot of tacos, Chevy.”

She smiles with a nod then stands and takes our trash, throwing it away. My eyes remain glued to her form as she sways in her own erotic strut she seems oblivious to. We were eating in the middle of the track. Random spot but this is where we ended up after searching the place, and with both of us starving decided to just sit and eat right on the track.

“So how did you get into racing?” I ask as she comes back, and I stand up. I don’t know where we’ll end up next, but I start walking beside her. Taking her hand in mine, she doesn’t pull away, and like a fucking chick, I get all excited inside. Her pussy already has me whipped after only one night being buried in her wet warmth.

“I met this older man.” My hard gaze finds hers, and she smiles. Shaking her head, she backtracks. “Think of him as a grandpa in a sense. He had a shop and fixed cars. He caught me begging near his place one night and told me if I helped clean up his shop, he’d buy me dinner. Being young and the promise of a full stomach, I jumped on the offer.”

She takes a drink of her soda and continues. “His shop was trashed, but regardless, I cleaned it. The job ended up taking me nearly a week to complete, but each day as promised, he’d order a bunch of food. I’d eat until I was in a food coma and clean my ass off in return. He never asked me where I’d go at night, and before he’d have a chance to forget about me, I’d be out in front of the shop, first thing.”

“Where did you go at night?” I interrupt to ask.

She sighs. “I was sleeping under a bridge near his business.”

I make a sound in my throat, a cross between sadness and anger on her behalf. “Oh wow, you were serious about being on the streets.” I didn’t realize how much truth those words had held when she’d originally said them. No wonder she has it in her head that she has to do everything all on her own.

“Yes, anyway, he kept coming up with things for me to do. I was about twelve at that time, and eventually, his tasks switched to me helping him work on the cars that came in needing repairs. He taught me everything he knew about mechanics. After about two years of helping him, he started letting me work on cars by myself. Turned out, I could fix them faster than he could.”

“I’m not surprised,” I comment, and she smiles.

“Not only did he feed me, but he began paying me as well. A year before that, he’d let me start sleeping in the office at his tiny shop. It had a bathroom and a roof, so I was beyond grateful.”

“You were fortunate he didn’t take advantage of you.”

“Trust me, I know.”

That thought alone is enough to make me want to rip someone’s head off. I’d kill them without a second thought if they touched her wrong in any way.

We get to her apartment, and she sits in the overstuffed chair. I take the edge of her bed. “He also owned a dirt track on the outskirts of Houston in this town called Katy. When I got old enough to drive, he taught me how in a race car around that track. A lot of the other drivers brought their car into the shop for mods, so I was already familiar with how a race car ran, how it ticked.”

“Jesus, I bet you were a natural.”

She nods with a wide smile in place. I’ve never seen her smile so bright; the beauty makes me swallow roughly.

“I started winning money racing one of his cars along with being paid to work in his shop. I was finally doing something real with my life. I had a purpose after so long of being filled with emptiness.”

“So, what happened? Why’d you leave?”

The smile drops, her bottom lip trembles for a beat before she hides it. “He died.”

“Sweetie, I’m sorry.”

She nods, a sad smile taking the place of the tremble she wore moments prior. “His shop was sold by his lawyer as instructed in his will. I had some money to survive on at the time, but nothing to keep me afloat in Houston. Then his lawyer got ahold of me one day when things were looking down, and I found out the crazy old man had left everything to me.”

“No shit?”

She nods. “He had a son somewhere that he knew nothing about and a bitter ex-wife that wouldn’t speak to him. He’d told me I was like a daughter to him. I just never realized that he was serious, I guess. Anyhow, I immediately started looking for something...a small shop or whatever I could buy to make money and live a quiet life. I found The Pit. I bought my Chevelle and put the rest of the money I had as a down payment to the previous owner, and I’ve been racing to pay it off and fix it up each week since.”

“Damn, Chevelle. I’m impressed. The man would be proud of you, no doubt.”

“You are?” Is that hope in her eyes? She’s like a kitten that scratches and hisses at first but then basks in attention shown to her by her owner.

“Hell yeah. You’re a fighter in all senses. I suppose you learned to defend yourself from growing up like that then?” I can’t believe this beautiful woman had such a hard life. I really am lucky with my family.

She nods. “You fight and adapt, or you die.”

“You really are a badass,” I mumble, and she pulls me down to the bed.

“Mmm, then it’s my turn to have my way with you. Badasses get what they want.” She smirks and pushes me against the comforter. She climbs over me, straddling my waist, giving me a perfect view of her beauty. She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I’ll gladly let her have her way with me.