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She was wild, uninhibited, and sexy as hell. And her pussy. OH, MY DAMN. Her pussy squeezed my cock so hard every time she came that I damn near saw stars.
Fuck giving that up. Hell to the no. I’d had a taste and now I wanted more. So much more. I wanted to spend my life fucking her any place, any time of the day or night, that she’d let me.
She could fight me all she wanted, but she was going to be my old lady. I didn’t care if I had to hogtie her to my bed, she was falling asleep in my arms every damn night. End of story.
But Stel wasn’t going to just climb into my bed and stay put. Oh, no. She was like the stray cat you had to coax to your side with yummy tuna or she’d claw your eyes out. And right now, Stel’s tuna was vengeance.
Which was fine, she more than deserved it, but I was going to make her give me something in return. She was none too happy about my little condition, either. Well, join the club. I wasn’t happy when I woke up in her bed, alone, and with a hard dick to boot.
Riding around with her on the back of my bike wasn’t a hardship, it was a claiming of sorts, a way of letting everyone know she was mine. Every time my bike rolled to a stop, I itched to put my hands on her, adding to my claim, but I refrained. Barely. Now wasn’t the time for that.
I didn’t hold out hope that any of the names on her list would pan out, but I wasn’t about to let my guard down. For all I knew, the men who took Stel, or Antonio, might be combing the streets looking for her. We needed to maintain a low profile and be quick about our surveillance.
The first name on her list belonged to Gerald Moore. He lived on a sprawling ranch with a giant metal gate, complete with a horseshoe above it. We hadn’t been invited to his daughter’s sweet sixteen, so we had to spy on the festivities from behind the back end of a Range Rover parked beside the house. Stel’s eyes scanned all the male party goers, but she shook her head at me, a pretty pout on her face.
Our next stop was an Italian restaurant owned by Lorenzo Castellano. We sat in a booth in the back, sharing the best tiramisu I’d ever had in my life. If I had to kill him, I was definitely torturing him for the recipe for this shit first. The waitress stopped by to ask if we needed anything else, and Stel struck up a conversation with her.
Stel might not make friends easily, or be a girly girl, but she sure could weasel information out of a person. Most of the time without them even knowing it. So, I sat back, sipping an espresso, watching her do her thing. It was a hell of a turn on. By the time the waitress walked away, I considered taking Stel into the bathroom and fucking her.
She claimed she was going to the restroom, which fit in with my plans perfectly, but when I went to slide out after her, she shook her head and walked away. Damn. Now I was stuck in this booth with jeans that were too tight in the crotch. I shoulda paid closer attention to their conversation, so I’d know if she was really going to the bathroom or if she was spying.
Hell. I better sit tight for a few minutes. If I fucked up Stel’s chance at seeing this guy by going back there, she was liable to kick me right in the dick. And a bruised dick was the last thing I needed when I actually stood a chance of getting with my girl.
She came back to our table with its checkered tablecloth and candle in the center and shook her head. At least I’d made the right call. Throwing down a couple of twenties, I adjusted the front of my jeans and followed her out of the restaurant.
The next guy on our list lived in one of the few high-end apartment buildings in town. It had a brick exterior with a four-story parking garage attached to it. Honestly, I had always hated parking garages. It was guaranteed to be dark nomatter if it was noon or midnight, and there were too many places a person could hide. If I could, I avoided them.
But not today. I drove my bike slowly through the levels like I belonged here and then took my time backing into a space beside a large SUV.
When I killed the engine, I looked back at Stel. “What now?”
“We wait.”
She seemed so sure, yet I felt compelled to point out, “There are three other levels. He could come or go from another one and we’d miss him. We could be sitting here awhile.”
She raised a brow. “Have somewhere else to be?”
“Not particularly,” I said with a sigh, knowing she had me there.
We had a clear view of the only elevator, yet thanks to the SUV beside us, we couldn’t easily be seen. From our vantage point, we could see any cars coming up the ramp, but they wouldn’t see us until they made the turn to park. The only negative to our hiding spot was that should an unexpected variable arise, we were effectively backed into a corner.
For a while we sat in silence, her breath fanning the back of my neck. Restless energy thrummed through my body and after only thirty minutes I couldn’t take it anymore.
I stood, carefully extracted my leg, so I didn’t disturb Stel, at least not yet anyway, and stretched. Her eyes followed the line of my body, stopping at my waist where there was a gap between my T-shirt and my belt.
“W…what do you think you’re doing?”
“Stretching. But now that you mention it, this stop is a little boring. Up for a game of truth or dare?”
We’d played this game as kids and Stel had never been able to resist a dare. Back then it was shit like I dare youto steal one of your dad’s cigarettes. Now, I had something entirely different in mind.
“What the hell,” she said, swinging her leg over my bike. “Truth or dare?”
The lighting was dim, but I could see the same restless energy thrumming underneath her skin as she stretched.
“Truth.”
Stel knew I always picked truth, so I wasn’t even sure why she asked. My old man used to say, “A good horse never changes their stall.” There wasn’t much he taught me worth a shit, but for some reason I’d held on to that little nugget.
