I love that she knows what she’s doing, and I’m a fucking sucker to play along and take the bait.
“He doesn’t do it like I do, does he?”
It’s not a safe question. I’m not built like Wallace, but I bet my dick is bigger.
Steroid-pushin’ ass.
“You really wanna know the answer to that question when you’re fucking me?”
Not really.
But I asked it, didn’t I?
“You’re not going to hurt my feelings,” I reply, a glutton for punishment, apparently. “I have no doubt he brings shit to the table, McQueen.”
“You’re not wrong.”
I love the honesty.
I hate the way it spikes my suspicions.
That I could’ve been replaced—which doesn’t fucking make any sense because there’s obviously room.
“You’re doubting yourself,” she lightly accuses me. “Don’t tell me you lost some confidence on your fucking ability.”
“I haven’t,” I snip back. “You obviously need the reminder.”
She lifts her shoulders dismissively. “You tell me.”
Obviously.
My lips coil like a moron. “I could tell you a lot of things, but you don’t listen.”
She gently bites down on my lower lip and then sucks at my flesh until it falls from her mouth. “Then make me listen next time.”
My hips move faster on their own. The ferocity of need that pushes through every nerve cell in my body demands to cement that into the universe.
Pleasure vibrates in my veins as I pick up my pace. Bay’s thighs clench tighter around my waist as I fuck her harder, wanting another round before we finish the first.
My breaths are more like pants; my stamina is about to hit an all-time low—fuckin’ withdrawals can suck my ass because it’s been too long since I’ve done this, but Bay’s perfect cunt seizes around my length, and we both break apart like our bodies can’t take another minute of the wait.
Our foreheads press together as Bay groans and moans around me, causing another spurt of cum to shoot from my cock somewhere deep inside her.
I shouldn’t be doing this shit.
She just miscarried, and fuck knows she’s probably not supposed to be fucking, but…I guess the trend is that none of us sex-craved assholes seem to care.
Bay’s lips meet mine again for a slow and torturous kiss before a male throat clears, but neither one of us jumps at it.
I think both of us were expecting it.
“Stanton,” Wallace grinds out, doing nothing to make me cower back in fear but actual amusement. “Why the fuck do you have my girl against an appliance right now?”
“I could’ve asked you the same thing,” I muse, forcing myself to pull away from Bay’s perfect lips and look over to the muscle mania man himself. Wallace is in a tight white tee, black jeans, and motherfucker is just dripping sex appeal. Straight as fuck sex appeal. “Why was my girl bent over the front end of the Nova?”
Levi stares blankly. “You think I’m going to answer you while you’re in my town with what’s been mine longer than you knew she existed?”
“I think you’ve got it fucked up.” I slowly let Bay down, stepping between Levi’s view so she can get herself right while I go head-to-head with the so-calleddeadKing of South Shore. “It took you, what, two decades to make a move?” I cock my head to the side. “Aren’t you dead?”
