Bastard drove until nightfall, stopping whenever Kit yanked at his cut for a pee or snack break. It seemed the man could ride forever—like the wind and open sky were the only fuel he needed to move forward. He seemed to not remember food until she brought up a growling stomach, which made her curious: was he just anxious to get there, or was he some sort of sexy robot who didn’t need to eat?
After being pressed against the firm wall of his back for five hours, she could attest that the man felt made of metal. He was solid and strong, but way too warm to be made only of steel. Catching his scent on the breeze brought back snippets of their night together, the sloppy kisses they’d shared while he was buried deep like drilling for oil. The memory seared through her, only a flash, like the moment itself had branded her brain matter. Even drugs couldn’t erase it.
Bastard was that memorable.
Sometime after eleven p.m. he pulled off the highway. All she knew was they were deep into Oregon. He navigated to a little motel off the highway and when the bike shuddered to a stop, she blinked against the loss of wind and air.
“We home?”
Bastard jerked his head into a nod. “For tonight, at least. This good?”
“Luxury,” she said, sliding off the bike. Her legs went weak for a second so she grabbed onto Bastard’s arm for support. He steadied her without a moment’s hesitation.
“Bike legs,” he clarified.
“Like sea legs, I imagine?” She leaned into him, feeling the hot bite of his breath near her ear.
“Mmhmm.” His voice came out gravelly, making her thighs clench. She drew a deep breath, smoothing her shirt down, trying to pull herself back together. “I’ll go get us checked in.”
She nodded as he walked away, staring after his cool saunter, the squareness of his shoulders. Once the door shut behind him into the reception area, she allowed the darkness of the night to press around her, the hum from the highway traffic the only noise.
What are you doing here?
She crossed her arms over her chest, scuffing a slow circle around the bike while he was inside. Heading to L.A. for a little bit was a good idea. Helluva lot safer than staying at her apartment now that Creepy Andrew knew her information. But this…the trip with Bastard…felt like something more than just a quick getaway to let things cool off with an overzealous fan.
When Dipper had suggested it, she swore she’d seen a glint in his eye. Normally Dipper was the protective older brother figure she’d never had, but something about Bastard must have struck him the same way it did her. Sure, he was a biker. Probably got into all sorts of stuff they’d be better off not knowing about. But something about him screamed safe.
And damnit, she wanted to curl into his arms…and then stretch out long and let him take her any way he wanted…
When Bastard returned a few minutes later, she struggled to erase the image she’d concocted of his dick. She didn’t remember it, just recalled the feel of him inside her.
“Why you blushing?” he asked
“I’m not,” she said, digging her duffel bag out of the side of his bike. “Why are you blushing?”
He smirked, flicking a plastic key card against the tips of his fingers. “All right, princess. Let’s go find our room.”
Her mouth parted and she made a small noise of indignation. “Princess? Really? Is that my nickname now?”
“Sure is.” He looked pleased with himself as he inserted the key into a room a few doors down from where they’d parked. Except for them, the place looked deserted. “Princess.”
She scoffed, irritation prickling through her. “Is it because I had to pee like, twice during the trip? Well I’ll have you know, that is completely regular. Just because you’re some sort of human catheter doesn’t mean I’m high maintenance or a princess.”
He watched her with an amused look on his face. “Human catheter?”
“Yeah. Or robot. Whatever you are.” She flicked her wrist at him, breezing into the room once he held the door open. She flipped the lights, finding two queen beds in the cramped room. Disappointment shivered through her.
“I’m definitely not a robot,” he said, his boots clunking against the floor as he entered after her. She turned, finding his bulky frame filling the doorway. She swallowed hard.
“Well normal people need to stop and eat sometimes,” she said, sitting on the bed. The mattress creaked beneath her. “Like now.”
He cracked a grin. “Princess is hungry?”
She groaned, flopping back on the bed. “Don’t call me that. I swear to god, Bastard.”
The mattress creaked as he sat on the other bed opposite her. Silence settled in the room, and her skin buzzed like maybe he was looking her up and down. She propped herself up on her elbows, finding his gaze waiting for her.
“You know why I started calling you Princess?” he asked.
“I can only imagine,” she said.
“Because you’re like Princess Peach. You needed to be rescued. Now we’re goin’ on a journey to get you safe.”
She blinked, hardly able to believe it. “That was a Super Mario reference.”
“Sure was.”
She let an incredulous laugh slip out. “So why not ‘Peach’, then?”
His gaze traveled over her, leaving a scorching path in its wake. “Fine. I’ll call you Peach if you want.”
“Well, it’s not that I want you to call me Peach,” she began, but couldn’t finish the sentence. It was cute. She liked it. There was no denying it.
He winked at her, setting his small bag down beside him. “Okay. Got that settled then. Now, next order of business.” He cracked his knuckles. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Peach. Do you remember what happened last night?”
Her cheeks lit up and she willed herself not to break his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” His tongue found the corner of his mouth, his moss green eyes steady on her.
She cleared her throat. “Are you asking what I remember?
“Sure.”
“Well, I was getting tired, so you took me to a motel room.” She couldn’t remember how, exactly. “And then, I remember…well, not all the details, but enough of the details of what followed.”
He blinked. “So you remember we fucked?”
She bit back a grin. “Yes.”
A breath whooshed out of him. “Jesus. Okay. That’s all I needed to know.”
Silence buzzed between them, her mind reeling from the topic. She rolled her lips inward, wondering how appropriate it would be to suggest they resume fucking ASAP.
“I didn’t know you were drugged,” Bastard said, scrubbing at his jaw with his palm. “That’s fucked up.”
“Yeah. All the more reason to get away from that guy.” She sighed, pushing to standing. “I guess when I get back I’ll have to change apartments. Is that a sign that I’ve made it big? My first stalker?”
Bastard’s smile looked wan. “Shouldn’t be, but maybe.”
She opened her duffel bag, rummaging for the few things she needed to get ready for bed. Might as well call it a night.
“You hungry?” Bastard called over the rushing of water as she washed her face.
She smirked, face dripping over the sink. Of course he’d ask now that she chewed him out for it. “Nah. Let’s just get a big breakfast in the morning.”
As she patted down her face and brushed her teeth, she caught glimpses of Bastard through the mirror in the room behind her: toeing off his boots, loosening his belt, setting his cut on the chair in the corner carefully, like it needed delicate handling. She tried not to watch as he tugged off his t-shirt, revealing a white wife beater beneath. When she turned to head to the bed closest to her, Bastard was laying back on the bed, his biceps bulging as he propped his head on his forearm. His jaw squared as he clicked the remote, eyes set on the TV.
“You the type of guy who falls asleep with the TV on?” She toed off her shoes, calculating what, exactly, she’d wear to bed now that the two of them were locked inside this room together.
“Nah. But nothing beats shitty motel TV,” he said, his gaze flicking her way. She shimmied out of her jeans, tossing them aside, trying to feign nonchalance even though her heart thumped against her ribs.
“I’ll take a good nineties movie if there are any on,” she said, tugging off her t-shirt to reveal a tank top straining over her bra. She undid the bra without removing her tank top, slipping it out and tossing it with her jeans. She looked up in time to see Bastard watching before he jerked his eyes back to the television.
“Noted,” he said, clearing his throat. She settled back on her bed, puffing up the pillows behind her. Let him ogle all he wanted. She’d ratchet up the sexual tension until there was no mistaking what she wanted.
“Or a porno,” she blurted. “You know, classic Skinamax.”
He smirked, his gaze fastened to the murmuring news channel. “You want soft core?”
“Some of that stuff is far more entertaining than regular tv,” she said.
“Entertaining,” he repeated. “Sure. If you like plastic dolls moaning for no good reason.”
For some reason, it pleased her that he wouldn’t be into watching shitty porn with her. Probably he preferred the real thing, with real women…like her. So why wouldn’t he look her way? “Yeah, you’re right. Besides, all you get to see are enormous, perky, round breasts. Who has tits like that in real life?”
Bastard’s jaw flexed. His gaze darted her way. “Well, you do.”
Her mouth fell open, unable to hide the grin. “Aw, really? You think so? These old things?” She cupped her breasts through her tank top, jiggling them slightly.
Bastard dropped the remote, rubbing at his face. “Jesus, Peach.”
She was getting to him. Exactly as planned. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Listen, if you liked them, you’re gonna have to tell me again. I don’t really remember much feedback.”
He hefted with a soft laugh. “Yeah. I liked ‘em. Liked all of you.” He swung his head to look at her, the green of his eyes sizzling through her. Her breath disappeared for a moment and all she could do was stare at him.
“So?” She played with the strap of her tank, letting it dangle down her arm. Sauciness flared inside her; something about this man made her feel feral. “Not enough to go for round two?”
His nostrils flared and he turned the tv off, tossing the remote. “You want round two?”
She nodded, letting both straps slide down her arms. “I want to remember every detail this time.”
His eyes flashed. “Come here.”
Kit pushed off the bed as he sat up, swinging his legs off the side, widening them to welcome her between them. She rested her hands on his beefy shoulders as his palms smoothed over the swell of her hips.
“Thought maybe you weren’t into it,” she whispered as his fingertips trailed down the sides of her legs. Goosepimples flared in their wake. “Maybe you got what you needed last night.”
He pushed his fingers beneath the lace of her panties. Her thighs tensed, and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders.
“Well I got something,” he said, his thumb grazing the silky fabric covering her pussy. “But it wasn’t quite what I wanted.”
She creased her brow, pulling back. “Jeez. That’s sexy, I guess.”
He gripped the soft roundness of her ass cheeks, sending a bolt of desire through her. “Trust me. It was sexy. I just prefer my women undrugged.”
She scoffed. “Yeah. Well, same here.”
“Trust me, it was great.” He pressed his lips against the swell of her low belly. She shivered. “But it makes me think you didn’t want it.”
She drew a shaky breath as his lips skipped a moist trail over her skin. “I wanted it. I had enough of that drug to feel it, but it didn’t mean I didn’t want you inside me.”
His gaze settled on her, heavy and animalistic. His thumb grazed over the tight peak of her clit and her knees wobbled. Bastard slipped his finger beneath her panties, dipping into the wetness between her legs. Her breath caught in her throat as he stroked her, his gaze burning through her.
“You want me inside you again, Peach?” He pinched at her clit, rubbing in between his fingers, his touch rough but knowing.
“Mmhmm.” Her voice came out strained. Her eyes fluttered shut. “So bad.”
Bastard eased his middle finger inside her; it slipped inside easily, and soon the insides of her thigh were damp from her own moisture. A strangled moan escaped her. Bastard’s grip on her hips with his free hand tightened, his fingertips digging into her flesh.
“You like that?” He slipped another finger inside her and she keened low, her head lolling back. “God, you feel so good, Peach.”
Heat prickled through her; his mere touch was driving her toward orgasm faster than any other lover in her life. That was frightening; something about Bastard was different than anyone else. It was like he was carved out of pure sex appeal and muscle. He took a small bite of her low belly and she gasped.
He reached up and tugged her tank top down, letting her breasts spill out. He let an appreciative moan, tweaking a nipple with his free hand while he pumped two fingers in and out of her.
“Ohhhh my God,” she moaned, hardly able to keep her eyes open. Her knees buckled and he steadied her.
“Sit on top of me.” His voice came out gruff. He tugged her panties down and she stepped out of them while he made quick work of his jeans, shoving them down to his knees. His cock strained against the fabric of his boxers. He yanked those down too, the veiny shaft of his cock straining tall and proud.
“Oh, my God.” Her voice came out a reverent whisper as she caressed his bulging cockhead. Yeah, she would have definitely remembered this if she’d been of sound mind that night. It seemed wrong to allow something so gorgeous slip into oblivion.
Bastard growled, tugging her by the hips onto his lap. She slipped on top of him, his cock settling against the damp folds of her pussy. She inhaled sharply when the tip of his cock nudged against her swollen clit.
“You ready to take this?” His breath bit hot and gravelly at her ear. She swallowed hard, nodding, rocking her hips against him to feel the heat of his cock against her pussy.
“You have no idea,” she said, digging her fingernails into his shoulders as she lifted slightly. Bastard fisted his cock, aligning himself so that the head pressed at her entrance. She gasped, loving the stretch as she lowered onto him slowly, taking it inch by precious inch.
“Peach,” he moaned, squeezing her ass cheeks while she sunk lower. “You feel fucking amazing.”
She couldn’t even talk; amazing didn’t cover half of it. Her chest heaved as she wiggled her hips to find the final few inches, so he was buried to the hilt inside her. Bastard was a big boy, and just being filled with him pushed her dangerously close to the edge. He groaned low, as though echoing her thoughts.
“You’re so big,” she said breathily, feeling a million miles away yet somehow grounded to this exact spot, this exact moment.
“Too big?” He lifted a brow, snagging her taut nipple between his lips.
“No. Not too big. Just…fucking perfect.” She rocked against him, prickles of pleasure already making a whirlwind trek through her body. He cupped her breast while he suckled at her nipple, his eyes lasered up at her.
“Don’t stop that,” she breathed, starting a slow, jerky rhythm on top of him. The sensations combined had her teetering on the edge. And that would be a record in her world. Most hot guys were only interested in their own pleasure…could give a fuck about pussies, or whether she got off. But Bastard knew exactly what buttons to push…seemed like he knew exactly what she wanted.
“You’re so wet, Peach,” he murmured around her nipple. “You feel so fucking good.”
“It’s all you,” she said, her head lolling back. Fireworks churned in her core; it was no use trying to prolong this. She was on the fast track to orgasm. “God, Bastard, I’m gonna come.”
He growled, something low and animalistic, and pumped her from below as she rocked on top of him. “Come for me.”
Her breath came out a strangled moan as he increased the friction to a dangerous level. Moments later, the dam broke, and bliss trickled out to every last cell of her being, flooding her with warmth. She clutched at Bastard, tightening her arms around his neck as she came, her pussy quaking around him. But he didn’t relent beneath her, steadying her at the hips while he slammed into her. A shriek turned into a moan as the pleasure mounted to a level she could barely grasp. It was too much, too good—she tensed, unsure if she could take more.
Bastard grunted, slowing beneath her until he stilled, his whole body going tense beneath her. She panted into his shoulder, and then a moment later felt something warm and wet hit her ass cheek.
“Nnngh.” His chest rose and fell quickly, and the two sat breathing together, letting the aftershocks of the orgasm coat them.
“Holy shit,” she finally said.
“Yeah,” he said. “About the only holy thing there is in life.”