Still Standing Page 8

He yanked up my skirt so it was around my waist, pushed down my panties. I stepped out of them and kicked them free and Buck’s hands went to my behind again. I hopped up and wrapped my legs around him, but my hand went to his jeans. I undid the zipper, reached in, pulled his thick, rock-hard cock free and guided him to me.

He surged in.

My head flew back.

“Yes,” I breathed.

Buck pounded into me, pounding me into the wall.

It felt super good.

My mouth found his. “Harder, baby.”

He pounded into me harder.

“God,” I whispered against his lips and he slid his tongue inside my mouth.

I took his thrusts, tilting my hips to deepen them, our tongues tangling, his hands at my bottom, my arms around his shoulders, holding on.

Then I couldn’t kiss him because I couldn’t breathe anymore.

“God,” I moaned.

It was going to hit me, and when it did, it was going to be hard.

“Clara, baby, let go,” he growled against my lips.

I let go even though I didn’t know I was hanging on. My head flew back, slamming into the wall, and I cried out.

Ah.

May.

Zing.

Buck kept thrusting through my orgasm, grunting with his thrusts and I kept tilting my hips, offering myself to him, seeking the connection, loving the feel of it.

I curved my fingers around either side of his head.

“Baby,” I whispered against his lips, “you feel beautiful.”

At my words, he drove deep, stayed planted and groaned into my mouth.

Yes.

I moved my lips to his jaw, his neck, his ear, touching my tongue to his earlobe, tasting Buck, tasting man, smelling it, loving it as I felt his fingers tighten on my behind.

On my mouth’s journey back to his, he pulled me from the wall, turned and walked us to the bed.

My lips hit his midway, his mouth opened, and I slid my tongue inside.

He fell back to the bed, me on top of him, and through it all, I never stopped kissing him.

I finally lifted up and looked down at him, my hands still framing his head.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Maybe this once, I’ll live more.”

He looked up at me and smiled that fabulous smile, white teeth, thick, dark beard.

Then he rolled me to my back.

“Buck!” I cried.

“Let go.”

“Oh God.”

“Baby, fuckin’…let…go,” he growled.

I let go, crying out loudly, my back and neck arching, my heels digging into his thighs. He slid his finger from between my legs so both of his hands could go to my hips, lifting them as he drove deep, deep and fast, his breathing labored, his grunts so powerful, they rumbled against the skin of my neck.

Amazing.

I came down and helped him out, whispering in his ear, and I felt the power of his thrusts intensify, telling me he liked what he heard. Then he lifted his head, his mouth slammed down on mine, and I slid my tongue inside so I could feel his groan against it.

Yes.

Amazing.

He stayed buried inside me as I kissed him then he took over the kiss, both were hungry. His kiss gentled to soft, sweet, then he stopped kissing my mouth in order to kiss my nose. Finally, he rolled off, pulling out, falling to his back, tucking me to his side.

I rested my head on his shoulder, my arm around his tight stomach, and I bent my leg so my thigh fell on his.

I was still drunk, but not so drunk I didn’t feel his soft, sweet kiss or the softer, sweeter one he planted on my nose.

West “Buck” Hardy, president of a motorcycle club, kissed my nose.

I smiled against his shoulder.

He started sifting his fingers through my hair.

West “Buck” Hardy, president of a motorcycle club, was sifting his fingers through my hair.

My arm around his stomach tightened.

“Tell me about Tia,” he said into the now dark room.

“What about her?” I asked.

“She all you got?” he asked back.

“Yes,” I answered.

His hand in my hair stilled.

“Babe,” he whispered.

“It’s okay.” I gave his stomach a squeeze. “She’s enough.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered into the semi-dark (night had fallen, we’d been busy, Buck had only turned on one lamp, and it didn’t cast a very wide glow).

I raised my head to look at his shadowed face.

“No, really, she is,” I told him. “She’s sweet and she’s kind and she’s generous.”

“Darlin’,” he moved his hand to cup the back of my head and bring it closer to him, “I can tell you’re tight with her, but you gotta know, a woman who puts you in the path of man like Esposito and lets him use you like he does is not sweet, kind and generous.”

“That’s not how it happened,” I replied softly.

“Then explain how it happened,” he demanded.

“He’s done with her,” I informed him.

“Come again?” he asked.

“He’s done with her, Buck,” I repeated. “But Enrique Esposito doesn’t throw anything away. He keeps everything just in case it proves useful. And Tia is useful to him.”

“How?”

Okay.

How did I allow us to get here?

I closed my eyes and looked away, wishing I was smashed again and not just drunk.

Smashed, I could forget.

Just drunk, it came tumbling back.

And just drunk, I didn’t guard myself, and Tia, from me needing to relay this information.

But something was happening between Buck and me.

It might just last this day and that was probably precisely how long it would last.

That said, I liked him.

I liked having sex with him.

I liked talking to him.

I liked not-quite learning pool from him.

I just liked him.

And I wanted him to understand what made me.

In other words, since I did not guard myself, or Tia, from this, I needed to relay this information.

“Toots,” he called on a prompt.

I opened my eyes and aimed them at his face.

“He loans her out,” I whispered and felt his body go solid against mine.

Solid in the sense of stone.

Then he said in a way that I could tell his words were coming from between his teeth, “He does what?”

“She’s very pretty,” I told him.

“I’ve seen her.”

“So you know.”

“She’s not hard to look at,” he agreed.

“Well, if the price is right, he loans her out.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered.

“That’s about it,” I replied. “So, Tia told me this and I talked to Esposito. Made a deal. He stops doing that and I work for him.”

Buck’s body went solid against mine again.

This before he asked, “You did what?”

“I made a deal. It wasn’t a bad deal. Not only does he stop doing that to Tia, every message I deliver, I get a thousand dollars. It’s actually, if you think about it, a really good deal.”

Both his arms went around me, and he pulled me mostly on top of him and up so we were face to face.

“Toots, he’s sent you with messages to Breaker Walinski and Imran Babić. Break’s a biker who sells safe passage for drugs, guns and anything else illegal. Babić is a Bosnian lunatic who sells drugs, guns, pimps women, strongarms protection money, floats loans at a one hundred percent interest rate, makes book and is into anything else that’s illegal. These are not guys you fuck with. Enrique Esposito is a sociopath and he’s ambitious, not a good combination. Break’s got a sense of justice. The disrespect Esposito dished out by sendin’ you to the meet he’ll take out on Esposito. Babić, babe, you gotta know, him lettin’ you go in, deliver Esposito’s message and walk out in one piece is a fuckin’ miracle. I see you wantin’ to look after your girl, but the deal you made is not a good deal.”

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