She smirked, daring him with her silence to do something about it.
He got close to her face until he could feel his own breath bouncing off her lips. An intense, burning silence stretched out between them. “Turn around and put your hands on the kitchen table.”
Annie snorted a surprised laugh. “I’m a grown ass woman. Maybe I find your terms to be too stringent.” She flipped her hair back over her shoulder with attitude and pointedly stared at him.
The caveman roared inside of him. Spinning her around, he guided her safely forward and bent her over the table. This time, she didn’t argue. Dropping his hand, he glided it sensuously over her butt cheeks.While his other hand undid his zipper and tugged his cock free then heforcefully thrust his cock of inky steel onto her delicate frame.
She screamed but he didn’t let go.
“Do I need to tie you up to get my fill of you?” He growled lowly.
Annie shook her head.
He spun her around, crushing his lips to hers, not breaking his hold on her for a second as he led her to living room. His lips locked with hers in a kiss and he growled when she broke it.
“What do you expect De Luca? I’ve been mainlining the same poison the mob has fed you since the day we met.”
Bruno stared at her for a moment before he said anything. It broke his heart to see the hardened edge his woman had. “Then let my poison be your remedy.” He smothered her mouth with his lips.
Her knees went weak like her insides had melted. He kissed her breathlessly…fiercely.
Bruno spun her around then firmly gripped her two ass cheeks and thrust into her from behind.
She turned her head and flashed him pleading eyes, but Bruno shook his head, maintaining his militant thrusts.
A cocky smirk curled from the corners of his lips as he reached out and grabbed her hair, tugging her head towards him until her ass bumped crazily against his groin. The muscles in his arms bulged under his hard flesh, his abs contracted, nostrils flaring as he pounded into her sweet core.
The sexual tension in the air thickened as she pulled tight against his grip, turning back to stare at him and Bruno stared back at her. “You’re mine,” he declared in a harsh growl through gritted teeth. “You’re my woman.”
A triumphant smile spread wide across her face, one she couldn’t hide, as tears broke free from her eyes. “Don’t stop, Baby. Don’t stop.”
Bruno’s heat powered up lit up inside him, he loved to watch as she moaned, begged, and screamed herself into orgasm. He pounded her harder, feeling her get wetter and wetter, as he vowed to make her come so hard she’d forget herself for a while.
Over and over, he felt her tightness massage his cock, thrusting harder, claiming more of her. Finally, he released his tension into his woman, emptying it into her warmth.
When he was done, Annie leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Baby, I don’t want you to worry anymore. Castillo will find a way out of this. He always does.” She smiled faintly.
Remembering the former boss’ instructions…Forgoing the boss’ orders would be a terrible betrayal he couldn’t live with. “I gotta go make a call.” He licked his lips, tasting the sweat from her skin.
Annie sat up. “Bruno, no. What did I say? Don’t leave, not now.”
Shrugging on his clothes, Bruno grinned and pecked his woman on the cheek, then disappeared through the door. “You said nothing wrong, sweet Annie. Nothing wrong.”
“Take care of yourself,” she called weakly after him.
Moving swiftly to the phone, Bruno dialed the number for Frankie from the letter he got a couple days back from Castillo. When the other man picked up, the guy told him to drive south out of San Diego into Ramona so he could meet Castillo’s accountant.
Then Bruno called Marco to pick him up and the two of them headed out towards the main street in Coronado known as Main Street. They stopped to get gas at a 7-11 in town. While Marco filled the tank, Bruno stepped out to stretch his legs and felt the ground rumble beneath his feet. A tiny, ominous vibration humming through the concrete. Picking up on it, he glanced to the left and to the right. A sound getting louder, the sound of rising wind. Bruno leaned against the hood of his cousins’ car and watched a storm of bikers pass by, hollering, whooping, howling with excitement. All of them riding past eighty. Only half wearing helmets.
Bruno knew they were members of the Hell’s Dragons MC by the black leather vests they wore. Three dozen or so it looked like. Enough to get his interest, enough to rattle him.
He growled as a can shot from under the tires of one bike, into the windshield of Marco’s vehicle.
Revving their bike engines to deafening levels. Real ones, not mopeds, big and heavy, gleaming in the late sun. Their bumpers bore the Hell’s Dragons tagline...
Impossible is nothing on two wheels.
“Fuckin Bikers,” the two men growled in unison.
