Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I think a part of me was simply over it. Over the life on the road, a life that never stopped moving. I wanted to know what it would be like to stand still.
"Why a Henchmen?" Lou asked, shaking her head. "Of all the organizations."
"Eh, mob has too many rules. And even if I did want to look past that, I've probably taken out a member of most organizations over the years. If they figured that out, I'd be fucked. MCs are good. There are some rules, but after those, ya can just do whatever ya want. Debauchery is encouraged. I figured I could come and go as I please if I'm feeling too stifled."
"Makes sense," she agreed pressing her face into my neck, planting a sweet kiss there. "Thanks for telling me."
"Thanks for not giving me that look," I told her, hands moving up and down her spine.
"I'd never do that," she shot back. "I mean, people don't usually end up in your career if they had nice, normal, suburban upbringings, Adler. Besides, I would never give you that look. I'd never want you to give it to me."
"I won't," I assured her, not sure what her story was, but knowing it was the same shade of black as mine. "Now hop up," I demanded, patting her ass.
She let out a low grumble, but rose off me to slide down onto my side, so I could stand, walking bare ass naked to the bathroom, glad it wasn't through the bedroom like it was in my apartment since I still hadn't figured out the secret there.
Maybe she had a doll collection.
In which case, I was happy never to walk in there, getting stared at by a thousand sets of creepy ass eyes.
Or maybe she kept an arsenal in there.
Though me of all people wouldn't begrudge her a gun or fifty.
Who knew.
But one day, she would fill me in on whatever it was.
Now that I opened up the possibility for secret-sharing.
As I dealt with the condom, and cleaned up, I realized I felt lighter, making me aware for the first time of how weighted I had always been.
Life did that to you sometimes, piled little bits on your shoulder, toughening you up, forcing you to become stronger, then repeating the process over and over again, until there were boulders there, but you'd become so strong that you never even noticed until the weight was shrugged away.
It was cathartic.
I wanted to give her that, show her how freeing it was. To be able to drop your burdens, have someone else help you carry them.
We'd get there.
We had nothing but time.
TEN
Lou
"This is hardly helping," I told him, voice an airy sound because his hands were sliding over my nipples that were pressing hard against the material of my tee.
Standing at the counter, knife in hand, nearly slicing off my finger when he moved in behind me, pressing his hardened cock against my ass, making me almost miss the tomato I'd been slicing and paint the cutting board with red of a different kind.
"I think I am helping plenty," he countered, hand sliding down my belly, getting dangerously close to the only place he was helping right that moment.
"I meant with your dinner," I informed him. "You know... that thing you have been begging me to make you since you woke up this morning. Making me get pants on and go to the food store for ingredients. And now you are going to distract me from making it?"
"But distraction can be fun," he suggested, hand pressing down between my thighs, making my knees slam forward into the cabinets.
"You're not the one who almost sliced off a finger."
"Grumble grumble," he told me, turning his head to press a kiss into my neck.
"I already have the garlic and onions browning," I reminded him as his finger did a swipe of my clit.
"Mmhmm," he agreed, nipping into my flesh. "And that is exactly why I am gonna keep doin' this, and ya are gonna keep doin' that."
"You expect me to cook you a meal while you finger me?"
"Nah," he told me, shaking his head. "While I fuck ya," he went on, pulling his hips back before pressing forward, his cock sliding between my thighs, rubbing against where I needed him most.
"I can barely remember to breathe when we fuck," I admitted, having found out through experience. Lots and lots of experience. Over the past week since we finally did it the first time, since he had given me his secrets. I still had a stubborn grip on mine. But those were matters for other times. Like when his hands weren't on me, when his cock wasn't rubbing against me. "How do you expect me to cut up and cook anything?"
"By tryin' real hard," he told me, hooking fingers into my panties to drag them down my legs. "Like I am gonna try real hard to keep distractin' ya," he promised just as two fingers thrust inside me, stroking with a hurried, almost frantic pace. "Nuh-uh," he said when I put the knife down, his fingers stilling inside me. "Ya stop cookin', and I stop making ya come."