“Beast! Wake up!”
Beast blinked in the darkness, trying to figure out what woke him.
The door rattled again as someone knocked firmly. “Beast! It’s Rowdy! Wake up!”
“Go away!” He didn’t know the time, but it had to be early.
“What?” Shayna snuffled as she scooted in a little tighter.
“Nothing, babe. Go back to sleep.” With a growl he slipped out from under her and pulled on his pants before padding to the door. “This had better be important.”
“We found Orson.”
Beast slipped out and eased the door shut behind him. “When? Where?”
“About an hour ago. We found his car parked in the parking lot at Calico Basin Golf Resort. He was inside. Shot once in the back of the head.”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah. We called the police and reported it. Nothing he could tell us and we didn’t want to open the door. You could smell it even with the windows up.”
“The Scarred cleaning up loose ends.”
“That’s what it looks like.”
Beast took a deep breath. “Okay, Rowdy. Thanks.”
“Yeah. Sorry to wake you but I knew you’d want to know.”
Unable to sleep, his mind buzzing with the news, Beast prowled the clubhouse. They didn’t need Orson, not since the meeting with Grizzly confirmed he owed The Scarred money, but he wanted to know how deep The Scarred were in, and what was driving them. The Argentines, the threats at the tournament, the kidnapping attempt, it all had to be related. It had to be The Scarred. Was it simply to get at the tournament money? If it was, they were playing the longest of long shots. Were there still pieces of the puzzle missing or The Scarred were out of options and were going for the Hail Mary?
It was almost four when he returned to the guest room to shower and dress. He gave Shayna a soft kiss, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes before slipping out to make coffee.
“I suppose you heard the news?” Beast asked Hightower as his VP entered the clubhouse.
“Yeah. Tripper left me a text last night. I thought about it some on the ride in. I’m not sure it matters anymore.”
“Yeah, so long as Grizzly doesn’t get too stupid.”
Hightower snorted as he serenely dunked a teabag in a mug of hot water. “He was never known for his genius level IQ.”
Beast snorted. “I remember. But they won’t be a problem much longer.”
“Good riddance to bad rubbish.”
They were still gloating over The Scarred when Beast’s phone rang. He checked the number but didn’t recognize it. “Conor Boyd.”
“Beast. Grizzly. We need to meet.”
Beast pressed the button to put Grizzly on speaker so Hightower could hear then put the phone on the table. “No, I don’t believe we do. We found your man Orson last night. Looks like he died of a splitting headache.”
“You want to heed off a club war, we meet. Just the two of us, at that park thing by the airport.”
“You must be crazy if you think I’m going to meet you alone after what you did to Skellon and Orson.”
“Fine, I’ll be alone. Bring one man with you.”
Beast watched as Hightower shook his head. “Why? What can you offer me? From where I sit, I hold all the cards.”
“You don’t want a war. I don’t want a war. But that’s where this is going unless we can work something out.”
Beast rubbed his chin. “Fine. Hightower and I will be there in an hour. You be there first. If I so much as suspect you’re setting us up, we ride on past.”
“Don’t do something stupid, Boyd.”
“As far as I’m concerned, we can call this off right now.”
“Just be there,” Grizzly rumbled before killing the call.
“This isn’t smart, Beast,” Hightower complained.
“No, probably not. But for him to reach out like this, it’s serious. We need to find out how serious.”
***
Beast rode into the viewing area first, Hightower five seconds behind, stopping well back so he could keep watch. Hightower pulled his weapon, but kept it low and out of sight of the occasional passing car.
“I’m here,” Beast said, shutting his bike off but not dismounting.
“Beast,” Grizzly began, “you have it figured out. We’re in deep with Orson. He owes us over thirty million. We can’t absorb that.”
“So you floated the loan using Russian money?”
“Yeah, but we’re out of options. They’re going to expect payment for the guns, and we don’t have it.”
“I don’t see how this is my problem.”
“Don’t you see? I can’t let this drop! They’ll kill us all! We tried to do it peacefully with Orson in the tournament. But you fucked that up when you went to the producer guy and made a big deal out of it.”
“You were trying to fuck me up with the Argentines? You tossed their rooms?”
“Yeah. We thought you would be an easy mark. Get you side tracked by your security company.”
“And Shayna?”
“Yes.”
He pulled his weapon and pointed it at Grizzly’s head. “I should kill you where you stand.”
“Go ahead. Save the Russians the trouble.”
Beast held his weapon on Grizzly a moment then pulled it down but kept it in his hand. “No. I rather like the idea of the Russians squeezing you to find out what happened. So what do you want from me?”
“Time. I need time to raise the money.”
“Sorry, can’t help you.”
“You can. I need thirty-two million before next weekend. You have it.”
Beast snorted. “I don’t have that kind of money, and even if I did, why would I give it to you?”
“Don’t give me that ‘I don’t have it’ bullshit! You just won fifty million dollars.”
“Let me explain to you this little thing called taxes. I may have won fifty million, but the IRS and the state of Nevada get theirs first. You don’t like it, take it up with Uncle Sam.”
“What do you have?”
“None of your fucking business!”
Grizzly licked his lips. “I have a business proposal.”
“Not interested.”
“Just hear me out! Twenty-five percent of our take, right off the top, until the loan is paid back, with interest.”
“Still not interested. We got out of the gun running business, remember.”
“I can’t let this rest, Beast. I have to have the money.”
Beast started his bike. “Still not interested.”
“This will mean war, Beast! A lot of your brothers are going to die!”
“If you think your dick is big enough to go up against us, then let’s see who has the biggest dick! I will personally fuck you in the ass!”
Grizzly reached for his weapon, but with his gun still in his hand, Beast was faster, much faster.
“Come on!” Beast snarled. “Give me an excuse to blow your fucking brains out all over the pavement!” Grizzly slowly extended his hands to his sides. “So, you’re not as stupid as you look. With your left hand, slowly pull your gun out.” Grizzly reached behind him and pulled the chrome plated .357 revolver. “Empty it then toss it over the fence,” he said with a jerk of his head, his eyes never leaving Grizzly and his weapon never wavering.
Grizzly did as ordered. “We’re going to be coming for you, Beast. We can’t let this go. You’re leaving us no choice.”
“Sucks to be you.” He kicked the bike into gear then tucked his pistol away.
“We’re coming for you, Beast! We’re going to kill you all!” Grizzly raged as Beast circled his bike around and rode back toward Hightower.
***
“That went well,” Hightower said as the two men stepped off their hogs at the clubhouse. “I nearly shit when you pulled the pistol.”
“Actually, it did,” Beast said with a grin. “The Scarred are going under. They lost thirty million of Russian money on Orson’s deal. They’ve been riding the float, but they’re out of options. Grizzly, the stupid fuck, wanted us to loan them the money. Well, when I say us, I mean me.”
“Are you going to do it?” Hightower asked with a grin.
“Shut the fuck up! I might just stay on as President if The Scarred are gone,” Beast said with a grin, but then turned serious. “He said they would be coming for us. We need to let the brothers and sisters know to watch their back.”
Hightower nodded. “We’ll start riding only in pairs, like the old days. How long, did he say?”
“He needs the money by next weekend. So two weeks?”
Hightower nodded. “For two weeks, we can hole up here if we have to.”
Beast nodded in agreement. “Start putting the word out, and have someone stock up here, just in case we have to go to ground.”
Hightower nodded then pulled Beast into a back-slapping hug. “This is Ace,” he said, pushing Beast back. “You finished what Animal started and now you’re destroying The Scarred.”
“We just have to get through the next couple of weeks, until the Russians can do the dirty work,” Beast said as he opened the door to the clubhouse. Hightower turned for the DRS office as he continued into the big common area where he found Shayna bent over the pool table.
“Where’d you go? And when?” she asked when she noticed his approach. “I had plans this morning but you weren’t there.”
He chuckled. “Business. Nothing to worry about,” he said as he kissed her.
“I’m not worried, but you still haven’t woken me up in a certain special way. Last night I was thinking this would be the morning.”
“We found Orson, dead, this morning.”
“No,” she gasped.
“Shot in his car. It’s The Scarred.”
“What does that mean? Is it over?”
“No, but soon. It’s going to get ugly before it’s over, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Scarred are in trouble, big trouble. They owe the Russian mob a lot of money, money they can’t pay. They’re desperate and desperate people do stupid things.”
“Like what?”
He grinned. “Nothing to worry about. We just need to be careful for the next couple of weeks, then it will all be over.”
“The mob?”
“Yeah. They aren’t going to take kindly to losing thirty million and will probably make an example out of them as a warning to anyone else that tries to screw them over.”
“And this…hit…won’t affect the Reapers?”
“Only in a positive way, by eliminating The Scarred. We’re clear of this, and have been for years. We have no dealings with the Russians. It’s going to be okay, Shayna. Don’t worry.”
“Then why do you look nervous?”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Bullshit. I can see it on your face.”
“Okay, maybe a little. Until the Russians take care of things, The Scarred are going to be flailing around. They have threatened us, the Reapers, with a war.”
“Why? What good will that do them?”
“None what so ever that I can see. But as I said, they’re desperate. Maybe they think they can buy some time if they can show the Russians they have the revue stream from DR Security and Dirty Reaper Tattoos. I don’t know.”
“Should I be worried?”
He smiled. “No. You’re safe.”
“What about you?”
“Me, too. We’ll be watching each other’s backs until this is over. If we have to, we’ll lock down the compound. But enough about that. I have another, better, idea.”
“What?”
“Well, let’s see. I just won twenty-odd million dollars and my club’s archenemy is about to go under, and I don’t have to do anything except let it happen. I’m thinking I need to take the most beautiful woman in Las Vegas out and celebrate.”
She smiled. “And you’re not worried something will happen?”
He gave her another kiss. “What’s the point of having a security firm if you can’t use it?”
She giggled. “What, indeed?”
***
They had lunch, and though Beast assured her they were under constant observation by two brothers, he refused to point them out and try as she might, she couldn’t spot them. They walked along the strip, lost in the tourist throng, holding hands as they window shopped, talking anything that came to mind.
They were walking past Mirage Boutique, one of the many specialty stores catering to the high rollers that flocked to Vegas, when the mannequin in the window caught his eye. The featureless figure was wearing an emerald green dress, one thin strap draped carelessly from the left shoulder. It was like a hundred other displays they’d already walked past, but the mannequin’s red hair was almost the exact color of Shayna’s and he desperately wanted to see her in the dress.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her into the shop.
“What?” she asked as they stepped inside.
“May I help you?” the clerk asked, a pencil-thin, supermodel wannabe.
“She wants to try on the green dress in the window.”
“I do?” Shayna twittered.
“Yes, you do.”
“Of course. That’s from Kiki de Montparnesse, a lovely piece that will look stunning with her coloring, as you obviously noticed. You’re a size…ten?”
“Ten or twelve.”
The woman nodded. “I think we can tailor that to fit. Come with me please.”
Something about the woman’s tone annoyed him, but Shayna didn’t seem to notice. She appeared to be totally immune to slights and was comfortable in her own skin. That was one of the things he liked the most about her. She knew who she was and didn’t feel the need to justify herself to anyone. Besides, he didn’t know what the rail-thin clerk had to be haughty about. Dogs liked bones where men liked curves, and between the two women, the clerk wasn’t even in the same league as Shayna.
It took almost an hour before Shayna stepped out. The dress fit her to perfection and the green complemented her coloring beautifully. She’d traded her sneakers for a pair of pumps, and as she swayed out of the fitting room, she beamed.
It had taken some fiddling to get into the dress, but despite the clerk’s slightly snide attitude as she adjusted the fit of the dress, she knew it was stunning on her. She tugged the dress, smoothing it over her hips as she admired herself in the mirror. But the best part was seeing Conor’s reaction. The way he stared at her made her feel like the sexiest woman in Nevada.
“You like it?” she purred, placing her hands on her hips and cocking her knee in a cheesecake pose before slowly pirouetting.
The dress stopped just above her knee, showing off her ass to perfection as it hugged her legs, but with a slit on the side that played peek-a-boo with her thigh as she moved. Two thin straps supported the plunge between her breasts, their delicate appearance adding to the allure by hinting they could snap at any moment. Though not exposing as much breast as her hostess uniform, the dress made them that much more appealing by what they didn’t show.
“You look stunning! We’ll take it.”
The clerk smiled. She’d learned long ago not to judge people by what they wore, but she was looking forward to see their reaction to the price. The dress did look gorgeous on the woman, but they were likely too young to be able to afford such a sleek and beautiful dress.
“Of course. The dress is twelve hundred sixty dollars. If you want the shoes also, that’s another three hundred thirty. We can have it ready by Wednesday.”
“Sixteen hundred dollars?” Shayna squawked.
“What if I want the dress for dinner tonight?” Conor asked.
“I’m sorry, sir, that’s not possible. The earliest we can have it is tomorrow morning, but that will cost extra for the expedited tailoring.”
“Do it. Shoes, too.”
“Conor! No!”
Beast reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills and began to count out the money.
“Conor, please, no,” Shayna said softly. “No dress is worth that.”
“That one is,” he said as he counted. “How much for the tailoring?”
“Two fifty.”
He counted out three hundred more, tucked the remainder of his cash away, and counted the money again before handing it to the clerk. “I expect it to be ready by ten tomorrow morning.”
The clerk smiled, impressed despite herself. “It’ll be ready.”
“Why’d you do that?” Shayna asked as they stepped out of the boutique.
“Because I wanted to.”
“But so much money for a dress!”
He shrugged. “A couple of grand to be able to take a goddess to dinner is pretty cheap if you ask me.”
She smiled and looked down as her face burned. “Thank you, but if I’m going to wear that, you have to wear a suit.”
He chuckled. “Count on it.”
“Let me buy it for you?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I know, but I want to. I recently came into some money. Conor, please allow me.”
He grinned at her. “Okay, if it will make you feel better.”
She smiled and leaned in close. “It will.”
They walked for distance, saying nothing, until she steered him into a haberdasher. If he can dress me, I can dress him. I haven’t seen him in a suit, and I want to, she thought as the man showed them jackets in various fabrics. She smiled as Conor shrugged into a jacket and the clerk checked the fit. Then, later, I want the pleasure of taking it off of him.
After forty-five minutes of trying on various coats and pants before she found the one she liked, a gray tweed number with hints of blue and black that looked as good with his jeans as it did with the navy blue slacks, crisp white shirt, and subtle chevron tie she selected to go with it. At the last moment she added a silk navy kerchief onto the pile before swiping her card. It wasn’t a suit, but as he had tried on different suits, she realized he looked better in a sport coat anyway. Beast’s clothes cost a quarter of what he spent on her, but he still looked like a million bucks. Only the pants needed tailoring, but he left everything behind so he could pick it all up the next day, along with her dress.
“Why do you always carry so much cash?” she asked as they strolled back to the DRS Tahoe they’d appropriated for the day. “I mean, I had to charge your suit, but you peeled off two grand like it was nothing.”
“I don’t use a credit card. OId habit from when I didn’t want to leave a paper trail. I picked up some extra cash this morning because I was planning on taking you shopping.”
“So you buy everything with cash?”
He shrugged. “Not my house, of course, but yeah, pretty much everything else.”
“You have a house?”
He chuckled. “Where do you think I live, the clubhouse?”
Now she shrugged. “I never thought about it, I guess.”
He thought a moment. “Want to see it?”
“Sure. When?”
“Tonight.”
She smiled. “I would love to.”
He smiled and pulled out his phone. “Tony, you’re done for the day. Shayna and I are heading back to the clubhouse now, then I’m going home.” He paused a moment. “No, that’s okay. We’re going straight back. Thanks for watching my back today. Tell Rip I said thanks, too.”
***
They dropped the Tahoe at DR Security and picked up his bike. “Are we going to have an escort tonight?” she asked as she donned her helmet.
“Nope. Just you and me. Nobody knows where I live, and I want to keep it that way.”
“Nobody?”
He swung a leg over the bike and waited for her to mount up. “Only Hightower, and you when you get there. Can I trust you with the location of my secret lair?”
She felt a warmth spread through her, exceptionally pleased that he was telling her a secret that so few knew. “Mum’s the word. But why the big secret?” she asked as she settled behind him.
“It’s my getaway. It’s where I can be Conor and not Beast. When I’m home I can leave the club, DRS and Desert Reapers Tattoos behind.”
“So why are you telling me?”
He chuckled and decided to tell her the truth. “Beats the hell out of me,” he said a moment before the Harley rumbled to life.
***
They rode into the older part of Vegas, Beast weaving though Paradise Palms until he turned into the drive of a house set on the corner. It was typical of the houses in this part of town, built in the fifties of adobe, low to the ground with a flat roof and large windows. The house, though older, appeared to have been lovingly maintained. The landscaping was desert sparse with no grass, but appealing in its austerity, dotted with huge palm trees and hardy desert plants.
As the garage door rumbled up, he circled the bike in the drive, then kicked it backwards into the garage before switching it off. She dismounted, looking around the garage as she took off her helmet. The garage was pin neat, the Harley sharing space with a lowered black Ford pickup with a bold stripe down the side and the words Harley Davidson spelled along the top edge of the bed in sliver letters.
She parked her helmet on the seat of the bike and followed him into the house. Sun poured through a floor-to-ceiling glass wall in the living room, setting the house ablaze with light. The inside of the house was decorated in brilliant white. White walls, white ceiling, white marble counter tops, cabinets and appliances, along with a light grey tile floor that ran throughout the house.
“Welcome,” he said as he closed the door behind them.
“Wow,” she said as she looked around. The house looked like something out of Architectural Digest.
“Would you like a tour?”
“I would love one!”
“This is the kitchen, obviously. Through here is the living room.”
As they moved through the house, the austere beauty of the place struck her. Conor’s house was impeccably decorated, accent colors splashed here and there to break up whiteness and bring a touch of warmth and flair to the rooms. The furniture was sleek and modern with opulent fabrics and elegant curves, the deep rich colors working together to create a harmonious whole. As they entered his bedroom the first thing she noticed was the mirrored wall, then realized they were sliding doors to his closet and were perfectly positioned so they could watch themselves making love on the giant bed. They returned to the living room and he led her into the tiny backyard, stepping out onto the small, covered patio with a ceiling fan turning slowly to stir the air. Like the front yard, there was no grass, only desert plants, but it was beautifully landscaped and appealing to the eye. A high adobe wall surrounded the yard and the pool that dominated the area, making it cozy and private.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think your house belongs in a magazine. Did you decorate it yourself?”
He chuckled. “Hardly. It was my grandfather’s, then Dad’s, now mine. It was pretty much a wreck when Dad moved in because Granddad didn’t care about shit except the Reapers. The place still had good bones so Dad started the renovation and got most of the heavy lifting done before…before he was killed. I finished what he started and then hired a decorator and a landscape architect to come in and add the finishing touches.”
“It’s beautiful. I love it. I especially like this wall of glass overlooking the pool.”
“You should see it at night when I turn on the lights.”
“You swim?”
“I can swim, but I don’t. The only reason the pool is here is because it was already here. It was the last thing I had rebuilt before the landscaping crew came in.”
“I love to swim. I wish I had brought a swimsuit.”
He waved a hand casually at the wall. “Who’s going to see?”
She looked around again. It was such a beautiful home and she dug the nineteen-fifties vibe. She might have to buy a house in the area herself someday. “And nobody has been here except Hightower?”
“No. Not since I’ve owned it.”
“What about before? When your dad owned it?”
“Some, but they think I sold it. I had a hard time coming here after Dad died. I talked about selling it, but then couldn’t. There are still some good memories here. They may suspect, but they respect my privacy enough to not ask, and if they know I still own the place, they pretend they don’t.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. To her it sounded like an incredibly lonely existence. “What are we doing for dinner? Want me to cook?”
“I’d planned to cook for you.”
“You cook, too?” she asked, the surprise clear in her tone.
He snickered. “So you thought I lived at the clubhouse and ate fast-food all the time.”
She giggled. “You are just full of surprises. How about we do it together, then? Get it done twice as fast, then I can take a dip in your pool if you don’t mind.”
He opened the door and gestured her inside. “After you.”
He dug around in the fridge a moment before he popped up with chicken breasts that were about to go out of date. As he rubbed the meat with olive oil and spices, she whipped together a honey yogurt glaze using what she could find in his pantry, brushing the mixture over whole carrots before slipping them into the oven with the chicken. She often cooked for herself, to keep her expenses down, but this was the first time she’d cooked with anyone other than her mother and father, her own kitchen far too small to hold more than one body at a time. Besides, all her previous dates expected her to cook for them.
In less than an hour, the dishes were hitting the table and it smelled wonderful. They ate, laughing and giggling over the clerk’s snooty attitude and eventual surprise at the dress store and Stephan’s trip through the window.
“When are you moving back to Vegas, or have you already?” he asked.
“I brought everything I could fit in my car. I still have my furniture to get. I have a couple of weeks to deal with that. Dad said my car is totaled, so I need to do something about that, too. It’s been a busy week.”
“Rent a truck and I’ll ask for volunteers to help you move.”
“Conor, you don’t have to do that. I can pay someone.”
“Trust me, I think several of the guys would love to help you move to restore some of their masculinity after you kicked their ass at pool.”
She twittered out a laugh. “That was just for fun. I don’t think less of them for it.”
“You obviously don’t realize how fragile the male ego is,” he said with a grin. “I’ll ask, and if nobody volunteers, then you can hire someone. But they’re good people. I think the problem will be too much help instead of not enough. Do you have a place picked out?”
“No, not yet. Like I said, it’s been a busy week.”
He nodded. “Next week, get that sorted, along with a car, then we can go from there.”
“Why are you helping me so much?”
He paused as he thought about it. Why, indeed? “The only reason I can give is because I want to. I like you, Shayna. I like you a lot. More than I probably should given that I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks.” He shrugged. “I can’t explain why, exactly, but you make me want to do things for you…” he let the sentence fade away as he smiled at her, “…and to you,” he added to keep the mood from becoming too heavy.
She licked her lips, unsure of what to say. He had the same effect on her and she wasn’t sure what it meant. Infatuation? Certainly. Lust? Absolutely! Love? She wasn’t sure about that. Certainly not love in the way her parents loved each other. But there was something there she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She gave him a crooked grin. “You make me want to have things done to me. But that’s for later. How about we clean up and I introduce you to your pool?”
By the time they were done policing the kitchen, the sun was setting and the landscape lighting was on, giving the backyard an ethereal glow. He flipped a switch by the door to the backyard and four powerful lights blazed to life in the pool, the faint waves making the light bounce and dance.
“What kind of music do you like?” he asked.
“I usually listen to country, but anything that isn’t heavy metal or rap is fine.”
He nodded. “I’ll be out in a moment.”
She watched him cross the room to the large television and power up the electronics before she turned and stepped outside. It was noticeably cooler than earlier and she breathed deep. She was still bothered by what Conor had said at dinner, but in a good way. It felt like everything was moving so fast, but she didn’t want to slow down.
She was stripping out of her shirt and pants when a swingy jazz began to play. She could tell the general direction the sound was coming from but the speakers were so well hidden she couldn’t see them. The music reminded her of Sinatra, Bennett and the Rat Pack, and it fit the house and her mood perfectly.
She was pulling off her shoes when Conor stepped out. “Nice,” he said before he reached out, pulled her to her feet, and pulling her in close began to steer her around the patio with the music. They danced through the first two songs before she wriggled out of his arms.
“It hardly seems fair that I’m out here dancing in my underwear while you are still dressed. What will the neighbors think?” she teased.
“That I’m one lucky son of a bitch? Okay, fine,” he said when she grinned and made a flicking movement with her finger. He stripped down to his underwear, adding his clothes to hers. “Happy?”
“Very,” she purred, stepping back in close. Pressed in close, his hand in the small of her back they moved gracefully around the patio.
Neither was a great dancer, but managed to avoid stepping on the other’s feet, and the rest didn’t matter. As the music paused between tracks, he kissed her, a slow meeting of their lips that lasted well into the next song before he pulled slowly back and began move with her again.
As the song ended, she stepped back, placed her glasses on the table and pulled his hand gently as she stepped to the pool. She paused at the edge to remove her bra and panties before stepping into the water and wading out until the water was deep enough for her to duck under and swim. The water was perfect, beautifully clear and warmed from the desert sun. As she popped up, the water just under her chin, she looked for Conor, seeing his rippling form under the water a moment before he rose in front of her.
With a smile she moved in, drawing herself higher out of the water as she wrapped him in her arms, the water sloshing over her breasts in a most-appealing way. He surrounded her with his arms, pulling her in tight as their lips met, their tongues engaged in their own embrace.
“Have you ever made love in a pool before?” she breathed as their lips parted.
“No.”
“Want to?”
“Yes.”
She smiled and pulled him in tight as his lips kissed her neck and shoulder. This would be another new experience for her and she longed to feel him inside.
He took a couple of steps toward shallow water, his lips never leaving her skin. He wanted her so badly that he could think of nothing else, his world focusing down to this single moment. In the pool she weighed nothing and he tipped her back, her hand going to his cock and steering it into her. As he entered her they groaned together, their lips coming together in frantic kiss, his passions feeding on hers.
She groaned, so overwhelmed with excitement that his slow insertion nearly made her come. She pulled herself tight to him and held him with fierce strength, her face twisting in a mask of erotic anguish as he drove into her again, then again. She whimpered, wanting to cry her pleasure to the world but unable for fear of being heard. He slammed into her again, his grunt of pleasure shredding her control.
“Fuck…” she breathed as he thrust into her again. “I’m coming. Please, don’t stop,” she mewled, the eddies from their movement acting like a lover’s caress.
He drove into her again, forcing himself as deep as possible as she shivered and keened softly, wrapping her in his embrace as she fought through her pleasure. He held her until, with a great gasping sigh, she relaxed, then emitted a low giggling growl as another hard shudder passed through her. It was, perhaps, the single most erotic sound he’d ever heard a woman make and it made his blood rush.
She found his lips and kissed him furiously. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d come so quickly, if ever, but she could tell there was a lot more from where that came from and she hoped he was up for a good, long fucking. He had steamrolled her every time they made love, but not tonight. Tonight she was going to have him begging for mercy.
She began to squirm in is arms and he let her go. He wasn’t anywhere close to done pleasing her, and smiled as she bounced on her toes, leading him to the shallow end. He thought she was leading him out of the pool, but his smile grew wider as she stopped on the steps, and pulled him down as she settled. With a smile that promised great pleasure to come, she positioned him as she wanted, sitting him on the extra wide first step with his elbows resting on the coping.
Watching him lean back, his smile, the way the water caressing every bulge and valley as it trickled off his body, the way his cock poked out of the water as she held him erect, ratcheted up her excitement. She settled over him, his passage into her making her eyes close and her head tip back in pleasure. Oh…my…God that feels good! I’m going to fuck the shit out of him! She opened her eyes and tucked her chin to her chest as she smiled at him, placing her hands on his chest as her hips began to move.
She had him pinned back on his elbows. He was reasonably comfortable, but with her hands pressing him back, he could do nothing save allow her to use him for her own pleasure. Her gasps and grunts, the rhythmic splashes as she rode him, the way her breasts moved, water cascading off her as she splashed, but most especially the look of ecstasy on her face sent a deep thrill through him.
She saw him grimace, his face twisting in pleasure, his hips flexing under her as he began to growl. She felt him try to rise but she pushed him harder back then fell forward, pressing herself into his chest, using her weight to pin him. She continued to pound him into her, her breath starting to come in great heaving gasps, but she couldn’t stop, not now. Her orgasm was coming, and coming hard.
He gritted his teeth, trying to hold on, but she was fucking the hell out of him, her breath hot on his neck and shoulder as her quiet gasps of pleasure twisted him up. “Ah…shit…stop! You’re going to make me come!” he growled, trying to rise up again.
“Come on, baby…come on, baby…come on, baby,” she gasped, pressing harder into him. She wanted him to come so she could keep on fucking him right through his climax, the thought of her shredding him with pleasure drawing her own orgasm closer.
“Ah…fuck!” he snarled, flinging his head back as he exploded inside of her. She continued to thrust on him hard and fast, the climax searing in its intensity. With a soft cry, he forced his hips up, his legs quivering with effort as he battled his pleasure. He lifted her out of the water, his body becoming stiff as his orgasm raged, and still she fucked him.
He went so deep, lifting her as he pressed up with his legs until his body was horizontal, every muscle taut and exposed, his soft cries of pleasure destroying her. Her rapture was close as she increased the power and speed of her thrusts, her muscles straining to rip her apart, and still she fucked him.
He fought the urge to scream into the night, the pleasure so intense he burned in the heat of pleasure.
Her orgasm rolled over her, devastating and unstoppable in its power. She wanted to announce her pleasure to the world, the need to remain quiet increasing the power of her orgasm and making her need to cry out that much stronger. Biting down on her voice, unable to completely contain it, she emitted a soft wail, throwing herself upright as she spasmed. Her back arching, she moaned long, low and deep as her hands traveled her body, trying to damp the fire that was consuming her.
Her pounding hips finally still, he collapsed back into the pool with a splash, gasping in relief. His orgasm had been hard, but was nothing compare to what she’d done to him after he came. He didn’t know how long she’d fucked him after he came, but it felt like hours, months…years.
She collapsed, falling to his chest as the aftershocks of her orgasm made her twitch and shudder, panting in relief. She desperately wanted to be held, so she forced herself upright, pulling at his shoulders. He sat up, his cock still deep inside of her as his arms wrapped her and he laid his head against her chest, her arms closing around his head and back to hold him to her. They sat together, their only movement his lips softly caressing her breasts until he softened and fell from her.
“Take me to bed and hold me?” she whispered.
“Always.”
Neither moved, not wanting to break this special moment, but finally Shayna rose and stepped from the pool. They dried each other, no words necessary or spoken, kissing and touching gently until he pulled her towel from her hand and dropped it on the table with his. He could clean up in the morning.
He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. The lamps in the pool caused light to dance on the walls and ceiling as he turned back the linens. As they tumbled into bed, she noticed the mirror wall again and smiled as he tucked in behind her in a comfortable spoon. Another night, she sighed as she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take her.
He laid quietly, eyes closed, drifting in that time before sleep when everything seemed so clear. It didn’t seem possible, not after only two weeks, but he had to admit that he might be falling for her. After so many women, was it possible she was the one? He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he smiled. He didn’t know, but as he coasted into sleep, Frank Sinatra crooning that he felt so young, he was looking forward to finding out.