Chapter 10

A beard is like the magic key of the panty world. If a man has one, he can get into any woman’s panties that he wants to.

-Fact of life

Sawyer

I arrived home from work in a fog.

It was storming, and I was glad that I had a car now.

That ride would’ve been difficult on my bike.

It was bad enough in my little car.

I’d had to detour four different times due to high water on the road.

I’d tried to call my brother, but the one time he wasn’t up in my business, I couldn’t get a hold of him.

The rain was so bad that I could barely see through my windshield, despite my wipers being on full blast.

I pulled into Dallas’ driveway, annoyed to see the entire thing lined with cars.

I’d forgotten that he’d said that a few of the members of the fire department were coming over.

“Explains why he didn’t answer my call,” I muttered grumpily, as I pulled up to the only open spot on the curb, which happened to be two houses down from where I should be parking.

My phone rang when I was stuffing things into my bag to try to keep dry, but I left it there.

I’d check it when I got home…if it still worked.

It was a cheap one I’d gotten from Wal-Mart when I’d gotten my second paycheck from Dr. Zack.

Purse stuffed to the brim with my things, and two grocery bags in each hand, I bailed out of the car and slammed the door shut behind me, only realizing that I’d left the keys in the ignition.

Shit!

I spun around and yanked my door back open, pulling out the keys hastily.

This time, when I slammed the door shut, I locked it with the key and started to run to the house.

My tennis shoes were soaked through due to the ankle high water that was running down the street along the curb, but I kept going, in a full-out sprint.

I passed all the nice cars, as well as my brother’s house, detouring straight to the garage apartment entrance.

I fumbled with the keys once again at the door to the apartment, but the door swung open without me having to do a thing.

“Get in here,” Silas ordered through my surprise.

I went, dropping the grocery bags in the entranceway once I passed over the threshold.

“Shit, it’s pouring out there,” I gasped.

Silas snorted.

“Got here before the rain…guess it’s good we’re at your place so you’ll be able to change clothes…after,” Silas said.

I blinked, but not because of the water that was pouring from my hair into my eyes, but from surprise.

“What?” I asked.

He smiled, and I shivered.

“Cold?” He asked, taking a step forward and divesting me of the rest of my bags.

I nodded.

I was cold.

But it wasn’t the cold that made me shiver, it was the smooth sound of his luxuriously deep voice and the way it seemed to slither down my spine.

“What’d you get?” He asked, placing the bags on the counter and looking through them

“Beer and stuff for spaghetti,” I answered going to the bags and putting the meat away and handing him two bottles of beer.

Spaghetti was easy and filling, but also something I could have for the rest of the week for lunch.

Or would have been…had the power not went out twenty seconds later.

“At least the beer is cold,” Silas said.

I heard the distinct sound of the cap being pried off my non-twist-off capped beers and blinked into the darkness.

“What’d you just open that with?” I asked, stunned.

Suddenly I felt the cool, sweating bottle of beer pressed against my arm, and Silas’ deep, rumbly voice close to my ear saying “My hands.”

I swallowed, taking the beer from him that was still touching my arm.

“Thanks,” I said.

Then, as an afterthought, I said, “There’s a bottle opener hanging next to the sink.”

Silas laughed. “Got it.”

Then he took off the cap of the second beer.

“Let’s go take a shower,” he rumbled.

I jumped, turning to face where I’d heard his voice.

“You scared me,” I said. “And I can’t. You just opened my beer. If I get in the shower, it’ll get warm.”

“So bring it with you,” he said, taking a hold of my arm and pulling me in his wake.

“How do you know where to go?” I asked as I followed him. “And how are you missing all the things on my floor?”

He didn’t answer.

My hand felt dwarfed in his, convulsing slightly when he said, “Take your clothes off.”

I felt around for a flat surface, finding what I thought was the bathroom counter, but couldn’t tell, and set the beer down.

Then I took my clothes off, as demanded.

The shirt came off easily, followed shortly by my bra.

But when I went to hook my fingers into the waistband of my jeans to drag them off, I froze when I felt the warm, wet mouth close around my erect nipple.

I hissed in a breath when Silas’ beer bottle pressed against my back, making me push into him to escape the icy coldness of it.

He chuckled when I clutched at his head.

“Silas,” I moaned. “It’s cold!”

He left me then.

Pulling away from my breast with a soft ‘pop’, he turned the shower on.

I missed his presence immediately, audibly whimpering, causing him to chuckle darkly.

I started on my pants in the interim, pulling them with difficulty down my legs, and letting them pool at my feet.

I used my feet to step on the hem on either side, pulling my legs free of the restrictive, wet denim.

When I pushed my panties down, I felt Silas’ hands find a home on each of my hips, while his unclothed cock pressed up against the seam of my ass.

“Grab your beer,” he commanded.

I did.

The moment I had it solidly in my hands, I was lifted free of the floor and placed in the shower where the deliciously warm water started to seep over my chest and neck.

It flowed down my body in warm waves, and I held my beer up and away from the spray as, behind me, Silas’ hands started to run down my sides.

He was washing me as well as keeping his body against mine to keep me warm.

“How was your day?” I asked.

The question was immediately followed by a loud crack of thunder that startled me so badly, my legs nearly went out from under me.

Silas’ arm around my waist was the only thing that kept me from eating dirt…or shower tile, anyway.

The bar of soap in his hand didn’t fare the same treatment.

It fell in an echoing thud to the shower floor at my feet and came to a rest at the opposite part of the tub near the drain.

“Easy,” he said, bringing his lips to my neck.

I shivered once again as his beard ran along the cord of my neck, and his large palm, the one that wasn’t holding his beer, cupped my breast.

“That was a loud one,” I managed to squeak out.

“Mmm hmm,” he agreed, letting go of me to take a sip of his beer.

I followed suit and relished the bitter taste of the ale.

I hadn’t been a huge fan of beer until I’d discovered this particular brand.

“How do you like this beer?” I asked softly, leaning my head back against his chest.

Lightening flashed, followed only milliseconds later by another loud boom of thunder.

“It’s not bad. I’m more of a dark ale man myself,” he murmured, while placing his bottle on the ledge.

I bit my lip when his hand left my breast and started to trail down the flat plane of my belly.

“I love this one,” my breath hitched.

His hand finally found the curls between my legs, fingers sifting through the coarse hair.

“I like this,” he said, giving my curls a gentle tug.

I moaned involuntarily.

That little bite of pain made my heart stutter in my chest and start to beat harder, my breathing becoming faster.

His erect cock was bobbing on the inside of my thigh, bouncing up and down slightly in time with his movements, tapping gently against the lips of my sex with shift of his hips.

With the lights out, every one of my senses were heightened.

Every single touch and breath felt monumental.

I was so wet that if he’d tried to enter me right then with his massive cock, I would’ve accepted him with ease.

But that wasn’t what he was doing right then.

No. He was teasing me.

Petting me.

Letting his callused hands run all over my body, back and front. Caressing my breasts, my face. Gliding them up my arms, over my neck.

“Get the soap,” he ordered roughly.

His gravelly voice had gotten even rougher as his arousal started to take over, and I found that I quite liked that…what I did to him.

I placed my beer on the side of the shower when I bent over and felt around on the floor for the soap, bracing my hand against the wall in front of me to hold myself steady as I searched.

Which was a good thing when his long, thick finger shoved straight into my pussy with no warning.

I gasped, closing my eyes, as I pressed my ass back against him, completely forgetting that I was supposed to be finding the soap.

“Soap,” he ordered again, smacking my ass for emphasis.

I gasped again and restarted my search for the soap, pausing when he worked not two, but three fingers into me.

“Soap,” he continued, sounding barely fazed by what was happening to me.

My orgasm was just suddenly there.

One second I was thinking he needed shut up about the soap, and the next my orgasm was slamming into me with the force of a freight train.

I would’ve fallen forward, too, had Silas not stopped pleasuring me and gripped me by the hair and hip, hauling me back into him.

His hand slid around my hip, cupping my sex and filling me with two fingers as he said, “You didn’t get the soap.”

“Fuck the damn soap,” I said, lifting my arm to loop around his neck.

“Tsk, tsk,” he said, stopping the slow back and forth movement of his fingers. “There’s something you should know about me, darlin.’”

I closed my eyes and swallowed. “W-what?”

Suddenly, I found myself whirled around, my back pressed up against the cool tile of the shower, Silas’ body pressed firmly against mine, holding me in place with just the strength of his legs.

His hands were tickling up and down my sides lightly, his cock standing like a steel bar between us, so hard that it had to hurt.

“When I tell you to do something…I expect you to do it. I’m not a man like any of the others you may have known. I’m older and set in my ways, I expect things to be done the way I want them done, and all that means you need to follow my directions. Everything I do and say has a purpose, and that purpose is what’s in your best interest. So from now on, in all ways, you obey me,” he ordered, his mouth only inches away from mine.

I should be offended, right?

Except I wasn’t. Not at all.

I was turned way the hell on.

Once again, my troubles were all but forgotten as I handed myself over to Silas on a silver fucking platter.

“Okay,” I panted out breathily.

His lips pressed to mine as he mumbled against them, “Now, get the fucking soap.”

Needless to say, I dropped to my knees and got the fucking soap.

When I stood once again, soap in hand, he guided my hand holding the bar of soap in it and pressed it against his chest.

“Wash me,” he ordered.

I licked my lips and searched in the darkness for his face.

It was no use.

I could just barely make out his form, and I couldn’t see his expression at all.

There was no light whatsoever in the shower, and coupled with the storm’s darkness outside, it was useless to try, but I still strained to see his face.

Using both hands to work the soap into a foamy lather, I started at his shoulders, running my hands over the very tops of his very broad shoulders, down his muscular arms to his hands, working the lather over every inch of his skin along the way.

I circled each finger with my fist, working them like I would his cock.

Once I was done with his left hand, I switched the soap to my left and went to work on his right hand.

He growled when I got to his thumb, but he held still letting me do my thing.

Smiling, I dropped down to my knees in front of him and went to work on his feet.

I tapped the first one I encountered, and he accommodated me by lifting and holding it up so I could wash the bottom of his foot. I repeated the process on his other foot.

I then moved on to his leg, massaging my way up the bulky thickness of it from his ankle to his groin.

Running my soapy hands over his hips, I also encountered his rock-solid cock as the head of it bumped against the corner of my mouth while I leaned forward to wash his hips and belly.

And really now, what was a girl to do?

But when I opened my mouth to take him inside, he took hold of my hair and used it to stop me in my tracks.

“Not yet,” he growled. “Finish.”

I looked down as heat rushed to my face, keeping my mouth shut tight to hold the laugh in that was tempted to escape.

He didn’t let go of my hair as I soaped up his other leg.

Meaning, he didn’t trust me not to take his cock back into my mouth.

I had no idea why he thought I’d be unable to follow his instructions.

It wasn’t like I was a girl who didn’t have any self-control, even when there was a cock rubbing against her cheek and the side of her neck for two minutes straight.

When I finished his legs and got to his cock, though, he stopped me.

“Start with my balls,” he ordered.

Getting my hands thoroughly wet with the water that was hitting my back, I started on his balls.

Lathering my hands up, I put the soap down by my knees and lifted both hands slowly, really not wanting to do any undue harm to Silas’ balls considering I still couldn’t see jack shit.

Then lightning flashed across the sky, and the sight before me was illuminated for a few short seconds, letting me know that I was mere inches away from his tightly drawn up testicles.

Lifting up a bit on my knees, I started to slowly work the soap into his balls, being extremely careful yet thorough with my efforts.

My knuckles bumped against his cock numerous times, but the hand in my hair never tightened, meaning he knew I’d done it by accident.

“Now my cock. Stay away from the head with the soap for now.”

I fisted his cock with both hands, knowing that would enable me to stay away from the head by experience.

I shuttled both of my hands back and forth along the shaft of his hard cock, surprised when the hand in my hair tightened and pulled my head back.

Water splashed down my face and ran in rivulets down my body as I held my breath in order not to breathe water into my lungs.

“Stand up,” he said huskily.

I did as he asked, coming to my feet and leaving the soap on the ground.

Silas pushed forward, rinsing the soap from his body quickly before he reached for the faucet.

The water was turned off from over my shoulder, and with his hand still in my hair, he guided me out of the shower and stopped me when my feet hit the towel I’d laid on the floor this morning.

Silas followed me out, stopping when just the tip of his cock prodded my ass.

Then, reluctantly, he let my hair go and wrapped a towel around me.

I clutched at it, pulling it around me tightly as the cool air hit my overheated body.

Hearing the distinct sound of foil ripping, I turned my head to follow the sound.

I don’t think that Silas even bothered with a towel, because the next thing I knew I was bent over the toilet, my hands resting on the back of the tank, with Silas filling me.

I gasped, the scream trapped in my throat, as he started to slam into me.

With nothing to hold on to, I dropped down to my elbows, rested my head on my arms where they crossed, and held the fuck on.

Silas was relentless.

And I liked it.

An orgasm that wasn’t even on the horizon moments before suddenly started building with each rough thrust of his huge cock inside of me.

My entrance screamed as the widest part of his cock finally worked its way inside of me.

He filled me like never before, going even deeper in this position than he had the previous night.

I felt him everywhere as he pushed into me repeatedly, dragging the head of his cock over sensitive spots that had my eyes rolling back in my head and my toes curling up in the towel I was standing on.

Each thrust of his hips had our wet skin slapping together so loudly that even the thunder from the storm raging outside couldn’t drown out the sound.

The tornado sirens were now going off, but neither one of us stopped or even slowed down for that matter.

Too lost in each other to think about the world around us.

“Come now, Sawyer,” he gritted through clenched teeth, moving one of his hands from my hips circling my waist, and trailing over my belly on its way down.

When his fingers met my clit, giving me exactly what I needed, I shot straight into orbit.

I came hard, clenching and clamping down around him forcefully.

A growl was ripped from his throat when my pussy started to convulse relentlessly, and he suddenly yanked himself from my still contracting pussy.

I heard the sound of the condom being ripped from his cock, and seconds later, I felt the hot, wet splashes of his orgasm decorating my back and ass.

“I don’t think I finished my beer,” I said, not even remembering when or where I put it down.

He laughed and I yelped.

Mostly because I felt the bite of his teeth on my shoulder before he pulled the towel free of my grip and cleaned my ass off.

“I think it’s at the bottom of the shower. We’ll have to get it tomorrow,” he said, tossing the towel down onto the ground and helping me stand.

I turned in his arms and wrapped my arms around his shoulder as the siren continued to wail around us.

“We should get out of this apartment,” I told him.

“Hmm,” he agreed, walking me to my bedroom.

I felt, what I guessed was a T-shirt, hit me in the face, followed by a pair of shorts.

Slipping them both on, I waited for him to finish.

When he did, his hand was once again in mine, and we were walking down the back entrance that led to Dallas’ garage.

“Have you been here before?” I asked in surprise.

How was he able to do this without any light?

“No, but I have good night vision, and I was here for about an hour before you got here,” he admitted.

That made sense.

Obviously, he didn’t sit on his ass while he’d been here.

Silas wasn’t the type to do that.

I had doubts that he even slept since whenever I saw him he was either standing, fucking me or had just finished fucking me.

“Ah,” I said. “Do you think there’s really a tornado?”

He squeezed my shoulder. “They wouldn’t have turned the sirens on if they didn’t have a real reason to. False alarms tend to piss off the masses.”

My heart fell.

Although tornados weren’t really a ‘new’ thing for me, they weren’t something I’d had to worry about the past eight years.

However, where I lived now was an area that the weathermen referred to as ‘Tornado Alley.’

There was even a whole season that was devoted to the storms that usually produce them.

When those sirens went off, we had been taught from a young age to immediately seek shelter in a windowless room.

Texas didn’t have underground tornado shelters like they did in other areas along Tornado Alley.

The soil was too dense to dig through.

The shattering of glass had my head whipping around, but it was Silas’ arms that circled around me, lifting me off my feet, that had my heart beating a mile a minute.

“What was that?” I gasped, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Hail,” he answered, setting me on top of what I guessed was my brother’s workbench.

Should’ve worn shoes, I thought to myself.

“Stay there while I run and get your shoes,” he muttered as I heard his boots going back upstairs.

I stayed there on that bench, looking out of what I assumed was the broken window.

It was getting pretty bad out.

The garage around me was shaking, and I had the hysterical thought that Dallas better have insurance on it, because it wouldn’t surprise me if the whole thing blew away with me inside.

Then the horrid thoughts of whether Dallas’ prized Nova being ruined by a possible tornado would affect him more than it would if I was hurt.

But Silas’ return jolted me out of my bad thoughts.

“I found some rain boots, figured they would be better,” Silas said.

I thought about what rain boots he could be talking about and decided they were probably ones I hadn’t worn in over ten years.

I wasn’t sure if they’d even fit.

But when Silas easily slipped socks over my feet and then helped me get my boots on, I realized that they, surprisingly, did.

Pretty well, too.

“You have a flashlight, don’t you?” I accused.

He snorted. “Yeah, what man doesn’t?”

I thought about it. “My father and brothers don’t carry them.”

I felt him lean into me causing my unbound, t-shirt clad breasts to rub up against his leather vest.

I hummed in contentment as I snuggled into his arms.

“I like your vest.”

“It’s called a cut,” he muttered laughingly.

“What’s a cut?” I asked.

The storm was getting worse. The rain was slapping against the roof and the side of the garage in sheets, and the sound of the hail bouncing off the house in a loud succession of pops echoed through the space.

“A leather vest,” he quipped.

I giggled against his chest, turning my face so it could rest against his neck.

He growled when I kissed his exposed throat, but otherwise didn’t move.

“All joking aside, the cut is me. It’s my club. The top rocker, the white banner, is our club name,” he said.

I felt along his back as he spoke, running my fingers over the patches as he explained what each one meant.

“The bottom rocker is our club’s location. We’re the Benton chapter, and we have chapters all over the south,” he explained. “On the front, over my heart, is my name, my club title, and the city again.”

I knew he was explaining this to me to get my mind off the fact that the roof was shaking over our heads, literally.

“I can’t believe Dallas hasn’t at least come to check on me,” I muttered darkly.

He tangled his hands in my hair, and I looked up at him…or where I thought he was.

“Your brother is a shit head. And I don’t think he even realizes that he is. Because if he did, he wouldn’t be telling your parents anything about how you were doing. My guess is that he really is worried, but he doesn’t know how to handle it. So, he closes himself off, telling himself that by telling your mother how he thinks you’re doing, he’s helping. Which, in reality, he’s not,” Silas said. “Maybe it’s time you had a talk with him. Let him know you don’t appreciate being tattled on like a child.”

I wholeheartedly agreed, and I’d already planned on doing just that.

“I was going to do that today, but then he had that huge freakin’ party,” I said, annoyance unmistakable in my tone. “I had to park on the street.”

He lowered his mouth down to mine.

“Well, then it’s a good thing he’s preoccupied, because I could really fuck you right about now, on top of his car, and he’d never even know,” he said tightly, lifting my body off the bench and laying me down on the car’s hood.

I laughed. “You know,” I said as he stripped my shorts from me, “this car is my brother’s pride and joy.”

“Well your brother’s pride and joy is about to become our fuck stand,” he muttered, and then he was on me.