Chapter Sixteen
Isla clung tighter to Sangre as his kiss intensified. Harder. Rougher. Deeper. His lips scorched hers, devouring them, and her body burned for him. She’d been craving him ever since their first kiss years ago, and now sensations crawled wild through her veins. She wanted his hands all over her, touching her, claiming her. The feel of his hard dick rubbing between her thighs, his fingers tangling in her hair, and his tongue thrusting past her lips and teeth—hot and probing, sent her nearly to the edge.
As Sangre ground harder against her, his callused hand slipped under her T-shirt, skimming up her rib cage as he moved his mouth from her lips and across her jaw to the sensitive spot under her ear. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a fuckin’ long time,” he whispered, his fingers undoing her bra.
Isla moaned then held her breath in anticipation as he eased up her shirt, exposing her soft rosy-tipped nipples. Sangre kissed a trail from her neck to her collar bone to the top swells of her breasts. “So pretty and tempting,” he whispered against her skin, voice roughened by passion.
Then Sangre whistled softly, his gaze taking in her butterfly tattoo. Dotted borders went under each breast, wrapping around the butterfly, which was in the middle under her tits. Bright, purple ink accented the wings. “Fuck, that’s sexy,” he said, tracing the outline with his tongue.
Isla threaded her fingers through his hair, watching as he pulled one beaded nipple into his mouth and covered her other breast with his hand. As he squeezed and kneaded, he sucked, licked, and bit her other nipple all the while rubbing against her. Heat pulsed between her legs as tingles zinged through her all the way down to her clit. It felt so good and she never wanted him to stop.
He moved his mouth to her other needy, hard nipple while he slid a hand down the front of her pants and cupped her mound. She groaned. “Are you wet for me?” he growled.
“Yeah,” she panted.
Sangre undid the button on her jeans and pulled the zipper down. Isla kicked off her shoes then pushed up a bit from the ground, and he tugged off her jeans. She grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it up, which made Sangre chuckle as he finished pulling it up over his head and threw it down next to her jeans. Isla sat up and he took her shirt off then tossed her pink lacy bra on the blanket, his gaze traveling over her nakedness.
“I love your tattoo,” he said, his voice thick while running his fingers over dark Gothic roses on curly Q vines. The ink started at the tip of her right butt cheek and curled up the side of her body with the vine stopping right above her right breast. A musical score with notes wove around it. “It’s fuckin’ amazing. Did you design it?”
Isla nodded, keenly aware of his hands on her naked flesh. Sangre looked up at her; his eyes were molten, burning with lust. He stood up, and she propped up on her elbows, watching him as he discarded his boots, socks, jeans, and boxers. When Isla saw his dick, she gasped. It was thick and hard, and a vein throbbed down the side of it. Without thinking, she sat up, reached out, and curled her fingers around it; the skin was smooth and silky.
“Fuck, babe,” he growled, dropping to his knees. He yanked her to him and kissed her deeply, and then pushed her back down with ease onto the blanket. He bent down and peppered kisses around her navel and across her stomach, then to her hips and thighs. He pressed his face against Isla’s skin as if memorizing the feel of her. Looping his fingers on either side of her lace panties, he slowly pulled them down, and then kissed his way back up over her legs to her thighs, gently spreading her legs. He sat back on his knees and stared at her wetness; a heated flush spread over her and she dropped her head down. Sangre placed his hand under her chin, gently lifted her face, and closed his lips over hers.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I never imagined you were this beautiful. I want to see all of you,” he said against her mouth, his fingers slipping into her wet folds as he held her gaze.
“Oh, Sangre.” She gasped.
“You like that, honey?”
A shudder of raw passion passed through her at the sound of his hoarse voice and the touch of his hot breath fanning over her face. Isla clutched his tatted bicep, loving the way his muscles flexed as his fingers moved closer to her slick and swollen clit, that was hot with need for him. He stroked her slowly before pushing one finger inside. She bucked against him as he added another. Her hips rocked with the movements of his fingers as she rode his hand. Isla arched into him, gripping his shoulders hard as the tension mounting in her threatened to explode. He bent down and flicked his tongue around her belly button.
“Fuck, I need you,” he gritted.
“I need you too. By the way, I’m on the pill.”
“You want this raw?”
“I want to feel all of you inside me.”
“Me too,” he whispered, dragging his lips across her stomach as his one hand glided over her breasts, down her waist, and across her inner thigh. The width of Sangre’s shoulders kept her legs spread apart as he dipped his head low, his fingers still pushed far inside her.
The first brush of his tongue over her sensitive flesh had her clutching the blanket and thrusting her throbbing pussy into his face. “Sangre!”
While his fingers pumped in and out, he licked her heated sex up and down, using flat and steady strokes, but never touching her clit. She moaned in frustrated pleasure as he moved his mouth away and sought her nipples, biting and sucking them while he removed his fingers covered with her juices, reached around her and squeezed her ass cheeks before teasing her puckered opening. Isla’s whole body trembled under his touch, and when he slid his knee up to meet her pussy, she rubbed against it desperately as his mouth left a few, parting, feather-light licks on her rock-hard nipples.
His lips seared down her body, nipping, kissing, and licking it until he buried his face between her legs. She groaned then cried out when his tongue flicked her sweet spot. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he rasped. With his tongue, he made small circles over her nub, and the tension that had been building from the moment he kissed her, exploded. Isla cried out, frantically grabbing at him, until her hand found his neck and pulled him down to her. She kissed him between pants, tasting herself on his lips. She had never come so hard before with a man. It brought tears to her eyes, and her lids fluttered open, blinking them away.
Sangre kissed her gently and stroked her cheek. “Was it good?”
“The best,” she breathed, her body calming down.
“There’s more to come.” He leaned back and raised her legs up, placing her feet on his upper chest. Isla’s ass came up a bit, and he pushed inside her. Slowly and gently, his dick filled her up as her still tingling walls molded against him. Then he pulled out and an emptiness filled her; she craved him inside her again.
“You want me to be gentle?”
Isla swept her palms over his broad shoulders, her fingernails tracing the tattoos adorning them. She ran her fingers over the curves of his stomach and down his sculpted arms.
“Do you feel gentle?” she asked in a soft voice.
A knot of muscles at the side of his jaw pulsed. “I want to take all of you. Hard.”
Catching his gaze, she threw him a wicked smile. “Then do it.”
Pushing Isla’s knees up and bending them toward her chest, he shoved his cock deep inside as she cried out from the sheer pleasure of it. He pulled out then began jack-hammering into her, withdrawing all the way and then driving his dick back in—deep and hard. Each time, she pushed up to meet his thrusts, over and over, shattering her to the point where she couldn’t think. All she could do was feel and react.
Sangre bent over and kissed her, and she felt the passion flow between them. She kissed him back wildly, clutched him tightly, and moved with him as though they were one. The sound of their bodies slapping into each other only fueled her desire as Sangre pummeled faster, deeper—his eyes never leaving hers. “Isla,” he growled as he brought his finger to her sweet spot.
“Sangre,” she panted, her nails scratching down his chest.
He continued to pull out and plunge back in at the same time he stroked her hard nub, and a dazzling burst of fireworks exploded through her, coursing through her veins and carrying her away on a cloud of euphoria.
Sangre stiffened and groaned as he threw his head back, his hot come spurting deep inside her as he emptied his balls. “Fuck, Isla. What the hell are you doing to me?” She cinched his waist with her hands and pulled him close. He claimed her mouth hard and wet, and then he collapsed on top of her, her breasts pressed against his chest as her arms tightened around him. They lay panting and sated as his breath skated across her cheeks. Still connected, Sangre rolled onto his back, bringing Isla with him. Settled with her cheek pressed to his chest, she listened to his heart pounding, a loud thrumming, like a train speeding down the tracks.
She’d had some great sex before but never felt as she did right now with Sangre. Instead of feeling guilty or wicked, she felt alive for the first time in a long while. Sangre brought Isla to life, filling her with happiness and light—with passion and desire. She tilted her head back and looked up into his eyes, which were laced with tenderness and passion. He pulled her up, his softening cock slipping out of her, and kissed her on the mouth.
“That was fuckin’ awesome,” he said against her lips. “You’re fuckin’ awesome.”
“So are you.” I love you. I have since high school. That’s why I could never fall in love with anyone. You’ve always been in my heart. She wanted to tell him how she’d poured her feelings out for him in the letter he’d never received, but she didn’t dare. What if he didn’t feel the same way about her? What if this was just great sex, and now we’ve become friends with benefits. A groan escaped from her throat.
“You okay?” he asked, stroking her hair.
“Yeah. It’s a little chilly.”
He laughed, easing her on her side, and then drew the blanket over them. “Better?” There was a smile in his voice.
Nodding, she snuggled deeper into him and closed her eyes.
The piercing ring of her phone startled her and she sat up, trying to figure out where it was. Sangre handed it to her, and she put it to her ears.
“Where the fuck are you?” Benz’s angry voice sliced through her.
“In the mountains. I’m surprised I have reception up here.”
“I’ve been calling you for the past three hours, for Christ’s sake!”
Benz’s anger didn’t belong in the canyon. She didn’t want to hear his noise or be sucked into his perpetual dark mood. This was her slice of peace, and she didn’t want him to ruin it.
“Hello?” his voice crackled.
“I’m losing reception. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Wait! Is this your way of punishing me for screwing that bitch? It didn’t mean shit—”
“I can’t hear you.” She lied.
“We have practice in an hour, or did you forget?” Panic replaced anger in his voice.
Shit. I did forget. “I’ll be a little late, but I’ll be there.”
“What’s up, honey?” Sangre asked.
“Who the fuck are you with? It’s that goddamn biker, isn’t it?”
She pictured him foaming at the mouth. The irony of the situation would be laughable if it wasn’t so pathetic. “I have to go. See you at practice.” She clicked off the phone then turned it to Silent.
“Do you have to get going?” Sangre tugged her to him, kissing the top of her head.
She leaned into him. “I forgot the band has practice tonight.”
He stiffened. “Was that your ex?”
Isla smiled. “Yes.” She pulled away and grabbed her clothes and began to dress. “Do you want to come with me?” She didn’t want their time together to end.
“I have some stuff to do, but I’ll pick you up afterwards, and we can grab some food.”
The rush of adrenaline burst through her. “I’d love that. I think you can call off the bodyguard for tonight.” She held her breath.
“That’s what I was planning to do. I’ll have someone spot me while you’re rehearsing, but the rest of the night, I’m all yours.” He gave her a lopsided grin.
Yessss! She stood up and tucked in her T-shirt, her gaze on Sangre as he dressed. He’s just perfect. In the midst of her elation, a doubt niggled at the back of her mind. But he’s commitment-phobic. By his own admission, he can’t stay in a relationship for more than a few months. Don’t go overboard with your feelings. “I already have,” she said under her breath. He’s going to break my heart.
“Ready?” he asked, reaching for her hand.
Nodding, she followed him then climbed on the Harley and wrapped her arms around his waist. As they rode back to Alina, she rested her face against his back, the scent of sex still lingering on him. Refusing to think of what ifs and determined to live in the moment for the rest of her time in Alina, she kissed the back of his neck, loving the way he looked behind him and winked.
The sun began to wane, and silhouettes of birds flew home across a sky that was now magenta. Isla wished they could keep riding, only stopping to make love. She pressed closer to him, closed her eyes, and let the feel of the wind and the scent of him dispel her fears, at least for the moment.
* * *
When Isla entered The Rear End, she saw Benz on stage with the other band members. Waving at Jim, she walked toward the band and stopped when Benz turned toward her. Her hand flew to her neck when she saw his bruised and battered face. “What the hell happened to you?”
He glared at her. “Why the fuck are you so late?”
“I told you I was in the mountains. What happened to your face?”
“Do you really fucking care?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. Did you get in a fight?”
“No. I was drunk and had a bad fall.”
She came closer to the stage and peered at his face: cheeks swollen, black eye, fat lip. “That was quite some fall. Are you sure you didn’t get into a fight?”
“I told you I didn’t. Quit nagging me.”
“Did you go see a doctor?”
Benz shook his head, and Arsen coughed. “We better get started. Jim said we have to be outta here in two hours.” Arsen picked up his guitar.
“Yeah. We’re supposed to have four hours, but she decided to go to the mountains.” Benz went over to the drums.
“I’m really sorry, guys, about being late. I totally forgot we were rehearsing today.” Isla jumped up on the stage.
“No worries. Shit happens. In two hours we should get through our set,” Gage said. Isla nodded, picked up the microphone, and waited for the first song to begin.
Almost two hours later, she placed the microphone back in the stand, sweat glistening on her face. “That was a damn good rehearsal, guys.”
“Fuck, yeah,” Arsen said. Jac mumbled in agreement, and Gage high fived her.
She jumped down and went over to the bar and picked up a stack of napkins, wiping them over her face. Jim set a bottle of beer in front of her, smiling. “You sounded damn good up there.”
“Thanks.” She picked up the bottle, tilted it toward him, and then took a long drink.” Anxious to see Sangre again, she pulled out her phone and began to tap his number.
“We need to talk,” Benz said from behind her.
“There isn’t much to talk about. You’re the type of guy who just can’t be faithful. I knew that when I caught you with those two fans back in LA. We’re better at being friends than we are at being in a relationship. The truth is, we shouldn’t have gotten back together after we broke up the first time. I need so much more than what you can offer me, and you need so much more than what I can offer you. It’s okay.”
He jammed his hands into his pockets, and she saw a muscle jump in his jaw. “This is bullshit and you know it. You’re not even going ballistic like you did the last time. You been fucking that asshole biker, haven’t you?”
Isla rolled her eyes while shaking her head. “You’re mad at me because I’m not flipping out about finding you screwing Lexi? Seriously? I gotta get going.” She looked down at her phone again.
Benz grabbed her arm and shook her. “If I find out you were fucking behind my back, you’re going to be more than sorry.”
She jerked her arm out of his grasp. “So now you’re threatening me? You really are an asshole, you know that? I’m out of here.” She jumped off the stool and pushed past him. “See you all later,” she said to the band members on stage, and then walked out the front door.
Mark’s familiar car was parked in front, and she leaned against the brick wall and tapped in Sangre’s number. As she waited for him to pick up, out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching her. Mark was out of the car in less than a second, walking around the front of it and coming over to her.
“Hi, Isla,” Lexi said.
I can’t believe this bitch has the nerve to say anything to me. Ignoring her, she turned away and smiled when she heard Sangre’s voice.
“Are you finished?” he asked.
“Yes. Did you get everything done that you needed to?”
“Yep. I’m leaving now.”
“I have to go home first because I need to jump in the shower. I always get so sweaty after a good hard practice.”
“No problem. I should be there in about twenty minutes or so. See you then.” Isla slipped the phone into her pocket.
“Is everything okay here?” Mark asked, his gaze fixed on Lexi.
“Yeah. It’s just”—she waved her hand at Lexi—“this bitch wants to talk to me and I don’t want to talk to her.” She glared at the woman. “Why are you still here?”
Lexi shifted from one foot to the other as she tugged at her pearl necklace. “I just want to explain things.”
Mark shoved himself between her and Isla. “Move on, lady.”
Isla took a few steps forward and stared at her. “There’s nothing to explain. You want Benz … you can have him. I’m so over him.”
Lexi’s eyes widened. “Just like that? I thought you guys were tight.”
She laughed dryly. “Sorry to spoil it for you, but you actually did me a favor. I don’t have anything more to say to you.”
“I didn’t mean to do it. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine. It really is.”
Before Lexi could reply, Mark stepped in front of her. “I told you to move it on outta here. I meant it. Go.”
With slumped shoulders, Lexi turned away and went into the bar. Isla shook her head and smiled at Mark. “Thanks. Sorry to involve you in my drama.”
He folded his massive arms against his chest. “It’s my job.”
“Sangre said he’s coming soon. I can just wait in the bar if you want to take off.”
“I don’t leave until my boss says I can. I’ll be in my car.”
Isla went back into the bar, and when Benz saw her he wrapped his arm around Lexi while staring at her. She went over to the counter and slid on one of the barstools.
“You want another beer?” Jim asked.
“No, thanks. But a bottle of water would be awesome.” As Jim knelt down and rummaged through the cooler, she placed her chin on her hand as she stared at Lexi and Benz’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Benz was nuzzling her neck, but it seemed to Isla that Lexi wasn’t all that into it. She had a strained look on her face, and her body looked stiff.
“Sorry that Benz is being such a jerk,” Jac said, sidling up to her.
“We’re through,” she said softly.
“It’s probably for the best. Even though Benz is my bandmate and friend, I never thought he deserved you.”
Warmth spread through Isla when she heard his words. Jac rarely got involved with any of the band’s drama. Other than being an awesome bass player, he rarely spoke and when he did, it was only a few words or grunts. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for that.” He lifted his chin at her and sauntered away.
The roar of a motorcycle made her insides tighten as happiness and a huge dose of excitement zinged through her body. Sangre!
“Here you go,” Jim said placing a bottle of water in front of her.
“Thanks.” She brought the bottle to her lips and took a sip. The front door burst open, and Isla watched Sangre swagger—his tight jeans fit just right, and the tattoos danced on his flexing biceps. Her heartbeat increased the more she took him in, and delicious flashbacks of him pounding into her as he held her down with his powerful arms made her squirm on the stool as desire ribboned through her.
His smoldering gaze caught hers as he came toward her, and an intense heat sizzled between them. She met him in the middle, and he wrapped his tattooed muscles around her. “I love the way you feel,” he whispered into her hair.
Acutely aware of Benz in the room, she gave Sangre a quick peck on the cheek and pulled away. “I need a shower.” She didn’t want to hurt Benz. She wasn’t the vindictive type like he could be. Even if Sangre hadn’t come back into her life, she and Benz wouldn’t have made it. The fact was that Benz was a much better friend than he was a boyfriend. She walked into their relationship with eyes wide open, knowing that he’d never stayed faithful to any woman he’d ever been involved with. Somehow, she’d thought it would be different with her. He’d pursued her so ardently that she figured he’d be so happy they were finally together, that he wouldn’t need to screw around. She’d been wrong, and it was okay. Breaking up with him was like a thousand pounds had been lifted from her heart and soul. It was liberating.
“Let’s go.”
“Let me grab my microphone.” She whirled around and went back to the stage. Gage had wrapped up her mike neatly as he always did. He’s so thoughtful. What a sweetie. Melody has a keeper for sure.
“Are you taking off with your new ‘boyfriend’?” Benz’s voice was hard and sharp like glass.
“I’m leaving with my friend. It looks like you won’t be lonely. I’ll see you at the studio tomorrow afternoon.”
“Fuck, Isla. No one can hold a candle to you. Let’s stop all this before we both have major regrets.” Benz scrubbed his face.
“We’re still friends. I’ve jumped off the roller coaster. I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’ll be on time. Promise.” She yelled, “Goodbye” to the other band members and walked out of the bar.
“Isla, wait!” Lexi called after her. The clacking of her heels reverberated on the sidewalk.
Isla handed her microphone to Sangre who put it in one of the saddlebags. She turned to Lexi. “I’m done talking to you. I told you that.”
“I just wanted to tell you that I’m done with Benz,” she said, her eyes traveling up and down Sangre’s body.
“Fuck off, Lexi.” Isla settled down behind him and linked her arms around his waist. The engine fired up and the cams drowned out Lexi’s reply. Turning her head away, she looked out at the street and the neatly mown grass banks surrounding the various storefronts bearing a façade of brick or stucco.
Sangre pulled away from the curb, and soon the warm air cocooned around her as they rushed past people, houses, and cars. Sangre veered the bike left, and they were soon in front of her house. Streetlights radiated pools of golden yellow on the sidewalks; here and there, illuminated windows cast slivers of paler light across the lawns, and glinting stars danced in the inky sky.
“Do you want to park inside the garage?” she said, pushing the button on the remote. He rode up the driveway and shut off the engine.
Soon they were wrapped in each other’s arms kissing up a storm. Isla had taken a quick shower, and when she came into the living room, the sight of Sangre sitting on the couch—boots kicked off, feet propped on her coffee table, and folded arms adorned in tat sleeves—it was more than she could stand. She ran over and pounced on him like she used to do when they were kids, only now they weren’t, and what once brought on a wrestling match now brought on a major kissing session.
As his hand slid under her top, her insides churned with burning desire for him. I guess we’ll be eating in.
And that suited her just fine.