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Deep, slow strokes, making her feel each inch of me sliding in and out of her tightness, leaving her writhing and moaning, wanting more than I was giving her—an end to the chaos building inside.
I felt a similar need as well, making me start to fuck her. Faster, harder, making her hips slam against the side of the counter with each thrust. But she didn’t complain. She just moaned for more, begged for release.
I could feel her pussy tightening around me, getting right to that edge.
“Press harder on your clit, love,” I demanded as I fucked her.
Then she did.
And then she came.
Taking me along with her.
I held her against me afterward, watching in the mirror as her brows drew together as her body shook gently.
“Aftershocks,” I told her, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“That’s a good term,” she decided, snuggling her face into my neck as she let them run their course.
After that, we rushed to get dressed and collect our shit, so we could make it back to the apartment.
No one said anything, but it was pretty clear that neither of us wanted to spend another night in the hotel, even if it did have more furniture than the apartment did.
It felt like we were beyond that, like it was time to move forward. Even if we were going to have to sit and eat and sleep all in one spot until she decided on the furniture and we could get it all delivered.
So I called Dezi to bring over the SUV, and we loaded it up, leaving nothing behind at the hotel.
“What? I’m just asking. If, you know, the room was going to be vacant for the night,” Dezi said, shooting me a smirk as we unloaded the SUV at the apartment.
“Have at it,” I said, handing him the keycards I still had in my pocket.
“Chicks like a good view,” he declared, looking over at Abs for confirmation.
“I mean, I don’t speak for all women, but I was impressed by it.”
“See?” Dezi asked, nodding. “Know what this street needs?” he asked, looking up and down it. “Somewhere to eat.”
“You’re not happy unless there is somewhere to eat every fifteen feet.”
“It’s not too much to ask. A man has needs,” he said, grabbing the last of the suitcases and hauling them up the stairs with us. “So I hear we’re having a little party at A’s house tonight,” he added, sounding pleased at the prospect. “You know, I heard that A set up camp in that place Jstorm blew up.”
“Blew up?” Abigail asked, turning toward him with wide eyes, making it clear that while I’d given her a decent rundown of a lot of the major players in town, that she still had a long way to go.
“Which place?” I asked. “Janie likes her bombs,” I added, shrugging at Abigail’s shock. “Usually for a good reason,” I assured her.
“Lex Keith, I think was his name? He was into everything, legend goes. Drugs, extortion, prostitution. But the fucked up thing was he used to grab girls off the street, hold them hostage, and… well…” Dezi said, trailing off, realizing who his audience was.
“And this Janie woman, she blew his place up?” Abigail asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good for her,” Abs said, nodding. “He died?”
“Yeah,” Dezi said, voice odd.
“But?” Abigail asked.
“But the bomb didn’t do him in. Legend goes, that fucker met his end when Janie’s man—Wolf, an OG member of our club—broke open his ribcage, and ripped his heart out of his chest.”
I guess I expected outrage.
But Abigail was right. There were parts of her that were no longer the naive, sheltered girl who used to write to me.
This Abigail had seen and endured a fuck of a lot of violence.
She wasn’t outraged.
She was pleased.
“Sounds like a fitting end to someone like that.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding.
I wasn’t sure I had what it took to bust someone’s ribcage open—Wolf was a mountain of a man, after all—but I hoped to get some form of bloody vengeance on the man who’d put Abigail through hell for years.
“Weird place to set up, though, isn’t it? A place that had been bombed?” Abigail asked.
“Yeah, but he got it on a song with all that damage,” Dezi said, shrugging. “Big piece of property. Had a lot of security features in place already. All he had to do was drop a couple hundred grand, move in, and open shop.”
“And A… he sells drugs?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding.
“I’m sorry, but, this town has drug dealers, outlaw bikers, loansharks, the mafia, and who knows what else. How? How do the cops not shut it all down?”
“Most of them are in someone’s pocket,” I explained, shrugging. “They look the other way when we handle our own business. But are still the good guys for the usual shit. Break-ins, domestic violence, emergencies.
“After all this time, even the good, clean cops have just kind of accepted that the organizations around here aren’t going anywhere. So they don’t hassle us too much unless something happens right in front of their faces. Or something goes down that they can’t ignore. Like shootings or something.”
