In other words, as soon as we got back to the house, Justine would be all over me.
I accelerated the bike out of the street parking, made way for the highway, and gunned it once we got to Freedom Alley. I could hear Justine screaming behind me, but I didn’t worry in the slightest. It was impossible to scream like that for the full twenty or thirty minutes it took to get from Albuquerque to Santa Maria.
Well, that’s what I had thought, at least.
It wasn’t until downtown disappeared from view and the road became barren that Justine’s screams finally shifted to laughter and then silence. Her grip around my body tightened even harder. God, how I just wanted her to move her hands just a few inches lower…
None of us were suicidal enough to try something like having sex or getting handsy while the chopper moved forward at speeds well over seventy miles per hour. But all of us, at one point or another, had damn well fantasized about it. How the fuck could you not?
I suppose it was the male equivalent of orgasming from the vibration of the bike. Having the woman having her arms wrapped around you, dropping her hands, finding your cock, and stroking it until you finished. Again, it never happened because we’d all be roadkill, but let’s just say that the woman wasn’t the only one who got sexually charged by a two-person ride back home.
But it’s not just any woman. It’s Justine.
Even though it is her, this is a weird thing to think about.
We pulled up to the house, and I silently gave thanks that it didn’t look like anyone else was home. Maybe they knew, or more likely, luck was just on my side. Either way…
And then, for a brief moment, I cursed myself out.
This was the house that Justine had had one of the worst experiences of her life at with Brock. What could be less arousing than to bring her to here?
I had to move fucking fast. I had to give her a new memory to make sure she forgot all that bullshit.
As soon as I parked the bike, I got off, took off her helmet for her, tossed it to the side—not even putting it in the bike—and dragged her inside. I made no pretenses about settling in or giving her a chance to ease in. I took her upstairs, took her into the room, and shut the door behind me.
Then, without a word, I grabbed her, pressed her against the far wall, and kissed her ravenously. Oh, how I had fucking waited so goddamn badly for a moment like this.
Her soft moans only hardened me even further. I felt like I could break through both layers of clothing to get to her, and when I did, I would make her beg to never leave my company. I moved down to her neck, biting and licking her.
“Zack, oh…god, please,” she moaned.
I didn’t fucking care if someone came home anymore. I didn’t give a shit anymore if anyone heard. Connor, Mason, whoever could come and watch—hell, even the fucking Bandits, especially the Bandits—and I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop for a goddamn thing at this point.
I had waited over fifteen fucking months to make this a reality. Brock may have had her first, but I would fucking have her for good here. Justine would not think about this place with bad memories, but with the mind-blowing fucking that was about to happen.
I ripped—yes, ripped—her purple top off. Her breasts spilled out and I cupped them, kissed them, caressed them, squeezed them, anything to draw a pleasurable groan from Justine. I could do anything and everything I wanted to, and I sure planned on it. No more wondering if we would or wouldn’t. No more questions about if we’d have to wait another year and a half.
No, this was all now. There would be no “later.” There would be many “next times,” but only as repeats, not as build-ups.
“Oh, yes, Zack…”
She could barely contain herself. Her enormous breasts in my face were just another gift to me. This was everything I had hoped for and then some.
I lifted her off of the wall and pushed her onto my bed. I tugged down her pants and panties, and there awaited her wetness, just begging for me to head in there. And let’s just say it couldn’t beg for me enough.
I went back up and kissed her, tugging my pants off as I did. She reached down and grabbed my cock and stroked it as moans escaped her mouth. God, even just her hand left me feeling so fucking good! What would her mouth do? What would her pussy do?
I thought of putting my dick in her right there and going until I finished, but what could I say? I wanted to be a gentleman—that, and I knew if I treated her right here, it would be far from the last time something like this happened.
And, let’s be honest, as heated as this moment was, I was interested in a little more from Justine than just the next ten minutes or so.
I put my face between her legs, licking and fingering her to the rise and fall of her hips and the intensity of her moans. I could see by the blushing of her skin and the movement of her hips that she would not be for much longer. That was just as well. I needed to get in on some of this—she couldn’t be the only one to come.
And when she did come, when she did let out that jolt, I held onto her ass as tightly as I could, so she wouldn’t roll off the bed in extreme pleasure. It was like riding a bull in heat, but I held my own, pulling back only when she collapsed into the bed, her arms barely able to move, her entire body just melting into the sheets.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said, gasping as if she’d just run back-to-back marathons.
“Oh, we’re not done yet,” I said.
