Gripping her chin, his fingers dug into her flesh when he drew her to her feet. He spun her so that she had lifted from the chair, and he could take her place. Inari straddled him, chest heaving, nipples showing the fuck out through that soft silk material of her dress. Moose brought his mouth to hers, strong, urgent, filled with passion. The nasty tango their tongues did left them both in shambles, tasting the essence of each other. Inari’s hand slipped against Moose’s wrist, and a low moan managed to escape through her lips. Grabbing her hips, he helped her position herself over his nine inches of glory until her tight walls reached his length.
“Gahdam!” Moose groaned, eyes never wavering from hers as she reached down and pulled her dress off over her head.
Inari rocked steady, each thrust pushing out more of that sweet, gushy shit Moose was now an addict of. She threw thatass with precision, lifting and dropping at the same time and twirling it in a circle. He didn’t have to guide her or none of that. She was handling the dick with an expertise he’d never seen.
“Mmm, that shit feels good,” she crooned, big ass double D’s pressing into his hard chest.
Moose grabbed a handful, circling the nipple of one with his tongue while his fingers pinched the other. He didn’t think Inari could get any wetter. When her walls collapsed and pulsated around his manhood, his toes cracked. This was some otherworldly shit. There was no way this woman had him ready to scream like a bitch.
“Shit, Nari. The fuck you trying to do to me?” His neck gave out, but baby was on a mission.
She sucked the soul of out him, and he saw the stars without a fucking sky. How the fuck did she do that? Spine tingling, toes curled, his eyes shut tight, still absorbing the walnut he’d dropped inside her when her lips found his.
“Get the fuck away from me. Fucking demon.” Moose turned his head.
Inari collapsed in a fit of laughter on his chest.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a while.” She kissed along his chest and rested her chin against her hand. “Hey,” she tipped his chin in her direction. “I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be honest.”
“Heard.” Moose lifted his head so he could peck her sweet lips.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” Kong’s deep baritone asked.
He and Ayla cruised toward the estate in the back of the Maybach. A soft smile claimed her full lips, and her low eyes latched onto his. She was still buzzing off the drinks and weed.
“I did. Been a long time, too.” She thought about Qassen, and sadness swept through her eyes.
Kong noticed, but didn’t want to pry. He’d seen her relationship with her sister up close and knew that she’d carried the burden of holding it together most of her life. Still, something else lingered in her eyes that he couldn’t place. She half turned in the seat, crossing one leg over the other and dropping her head against the head rest.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What is this, round two of hot seat?” Kong chuckled.
“Maybe.”
“You want to play now?”
“I don’t want to play. I just want to know,” Ayla corrected.
Giving it some thought, he held up a finger.
“One question each,” he compromised. “We don’t have to answer, but if you don’t, you don’t get to ask either.”
Ayla nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Exhaling, Kong bobbed his head. “You go first.”
Studying him, she drank in this man who carried the weight of it all. The house, the children, ghosts of the past. Ayla thought about her question carefully, and it might have been the alcohol giving her the courage to even press.
“Do you really think you don’t deserve a second chance at happiness?”
Kong’s jaw immediately tightened, and his eyes remained focused ahead. He wasn’t a fan of this line of questioning. Since Twyla died, nobody had even asked him about it until now. Sure they gave their condolences and vowed to be there if he ever needed anything, but that was just funeral talk. When things died down people tended to go back to their lives, while thosegrieving were left to do just that. Swiping his beard, he lowered his eyes to his lap.
“Sometimes I wonder. Was that it? Do you only get one shot at this shit?” His head turned to Ayla, and she empathized with the somberness residing there. It was something only someone else who’d lost something could identify. “Twyla put up with a lot from me. She was a good girl. She wanted the house, the kids, the fucking dog. I just wanted to give her whatever her heart desired.”
“Sounds like you really loved her,” Ayla whispered.
“Never knew I could love somebody like that. Which makes me sick to my stomach with how I’ve dealt with the kids since she died. Kara was a baby. Kyro was so young he doesn’t even remember his mother. I have to live with that every single day, and when I try to talk about her…” He shook his head. “I feel like I’m failing every time I turn around,” he confessed. “I hate myself for feeling like that because it’s not their fault. I just can’t help but look at them and think about all that I lost.”
