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LOGAN: The Fallen Thorns MC by Evelyn Glass (44)

 

 

 

They continued to discuss the details of the move, refining it, pressing some issues, and letting others take care of themselves. Nicole was more excited than she could ever remember being. This was life, real life, and she cared!

 

"Am I going to be a burden on you, Cole? I mean, financially?" Nicole asked, trying to feel out his current financial situation. Hers was good, considering she wasn't attempting to retire in style, just live in the ‘burbs with her handsome man and ride his bike whenever time allowed.

 

"No, I'm good and I have stashes, too, so it would probably be wise to re-stash your just-in-case money somewhere you can get a hold of it. I doubt that we'll need to dip any time soon. Of course, I don't live above my means. Are you going to miss the luxurious life?"

 

"Not at all," she sighed and leaned against him. "I'm so into being your woman, Cole. I'm so glad you asked me that day to ride with you. This is the life I want. And your house is where I want to live," she told him.

 

"Welcome then, ma'am. I do hope you have a pleasant stay," he said with a slow country voice.

 

"Well thank you kind, sir. I believe I will if I can ever get that man of mine to take me to bed," she replied all Southern and sash. Then she laughed at him.

 

Cole reached over and pulled her across his lap laying a smack solidly on her ass with the flat of his hand.

 

She squealed with laughter and mock insult while kicking her legs, "Cole! Don't you dare spank me!" The smack was loud, but it didn’t hurt at all. She hoped that was the result he was after.

 

Then he began to handle her and with deft motions and surprising speed; he removed her skirt unzipped and pulled down her panties to her knees. The feeling of being so easily unwrapped like this was unnerving and exhilarating at the same time.

 

She cried out and struggled to get away. She even slapped at his arms and wiggled fiercely in his grasp. She may have slowed him, certainly she was annoying him, but moments later, while struggling for all she was worth, she lost her blouse and bra. Now nude, with her panties around her knees, she was feeling oddly ecstatic and competitive, as well as defiant about the ease he was getting what he wanted and doing what he wanted.

 

She was about to bite his arm when she was suddenly being lifted up in his arms as he rose with her from the couch. He did this with ease, showing no outward sign of her causing him a burden. Once standing, he stripped her panties down her legs by first tossing her body over his shoulder and then sliding them the rest of the way down, while she kicked and screamed curses, and spanked at his ass.

 

"Cole! You brute! Put me down!" she yelled, and then with begging capitulations she tried, "Please Cole. I can't look sexy for you like this!"

 

"You would look sexy in burlap, riding a pig through the wetlands," he told her as he repositioned her into the cradle of his arms as if she weighed little more than the Sunday paper.

 

"Cole! This is our first time! This is very undignified," she complained, pushing at his chest. "Down! Let me walk! I want to go the room for crying out loud! I want you in there with me! Why can’t you just let me walk?"

As he crossed the threshold of his bedroom with her and before she could say anything, she was tossed into the air to land with bounces that flopped her in rag-doll ways on the king-size mattress.

 

"Cole! I'm so going to get you for this!" she giggled as she got her body under control and then with a blur of speed, she bolted from the bed, heading back for the open door -- her pampered crème skin glowing with excursion.

 

She had no idea large man like Cole could move as fast as he did or with such physical grace, and control. He not only caught her, he caught her around the waist and spun her up into the air where she floated for a moment with a scream, and then swooped her into and arch that flowed with her falling direction and landed her back on the bed.

 

"If you do that again," he warned with casual authority, "I'll find every ticklish spot you have and make you pee yourself."

 

That threat really did shock her. "You wouldn't dare!" she gasped in low, disbelieving denial.

 

"Oh, yes I would. I'm not exactly refined, but I do love a good tickle," he nodded and stripped his shirt.

 

Suddenly seeing him like this took most of the fun out of trying to run. She bit her lip and was considering another dash when he pulled his pants apart and slid them down his long legs. Then Cole was naked, tan, built, and his cock was reaching full arousal before her, which took up most of her concentration. After a few indulgent moments, she glanced at the door again, judging her chances.

 

"Go ahead," he said, giving a hinting glance at the door. "I dare you. I triple dirty dog dare you to try it. I’m not into seeing women pee, but in this case, I feel it might be oddly fulfilling."

 

She looked at the door again licking her upper lip line. He was further away from it now, deeper in the room. She might make it out to the living room before he caught up with her.

 

Tension vibrated her back and legs with pent up energy, ready to explode her out of bed.

 

Would he really make me pee? How much tickling is that? Minutes? Dear God, hours? As she appraised his body and wondered at the suffrage endured during an hour long tickling, she decided if she was caught and the tickling started, there would be no chance of her escaping until he was done -- not from those hands, powered by those arms. It would be over. All over but the dire-laughter -- and the wet spot of course.

 

"What the hell does that mean?" she challenged, sounding more defiant than she felt. "Dirty triple scoop pansy ass … what was the rest?"

 

Then Cole rushed her.

 

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