Read Online Slate (Rebel Wayfarers MC) by MariaLisa deMora - Free Book Online
Authors: MariaLisa deMora
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were more frantic now, and he was waiting for her to break the honor bondage position in which he’d placed her. Just another minute or two , he thought, and then smiled when he felt her fingers run through his hair and down his back.
He froze in place, quickly pulling his fingers out of her and his mouth off her breast. “Baby, I told you to leave your fucking hands where I put them,” he snarled at her, forcing himself not to smile when she quickly put her hands back up against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” was her breathless reply. “I wanted to touch you.”
He nodded, putting his mouth back down beside her nipple, saying, “I know.” He took her breast back into his mouth as he pushed three fingers deep into her cunt. She seemed open and trainable, and if he was going to be around here for any time, it would be good to have someone who was willing.
***
Andy fell over onto his back, breathing heavily. He reached down casually and stripped off the condom, tied a knot in it, and dropped it onto the floor beside the bed. He closed his eyes, forcing his breath into regular rhythms, bringing his racing heart rate down. Sighing, he jumped when he felt fingernails trailing up the inside of his thigh. “Jen, baby,” he used an intentionally discouraging tone, “I’m done for now.”
He refused to let his lips twitch when he felt the hand remove itself hastily. He had a private policy of no cuddling after fucking; it kept the emotional bullshit to a minimum. No cuddling included those slow, sensual touches that women liked after sex. He didn’t like to be touched period outside of actual fucking; it made him feel too vulnerable and he couldn’t afford that, ever. Look what vulnerable had done to his mother, for fuck’s sake.
Opening his eyes, he looked around the efficiency apartment and scoffed at himself. Efficiency was a stretch, because what it really meant was a weekly-rated, one-roomed hole with a hotplate. The bathroom was down the hall, shared with nine other apartments. It was still better than camping out in the field behind the truck stop, with a side bonus of keeping the truck stop hooker visits to a minimum. Once the lot lizards found out he was the one with the tent, they kept him awake almost every night trying to crawl into his sleeping bag.
He’d been gone from home for months now, but when he talked to GeeMa a couple days ago, it sounded like Benny was still doing okay. Andy sent home as much money as he could every month, and she had said that everything she didn’t spend on Ben was going into a savings account. Andy wondered to himself if she was simply socking everything away, but he couldn’t make her spend the money, at least, not from here.
Unloading trucks was hard, physical labor, but it paid well. Unfortunately, it wasn’t steady work, and was only available as long as there were trucks that needed unloading. He could manage five or six loads a day, and depending on the piece count and the weight, he could make between fifty and a hundred dollars per load. Working like this had kept his body in shape, and his arms and back were better defined than ever in his life; he silently flexed his arms as he laced his fingers together behind his head.
The apartment cost seventy-five a week, but he felt that a locking door and sleeping surface that wasn’t covered by rocks or sticks was worth it. For now , he thought, and acknowledged he was starting to itch for the road again. It was that way every time; he’d find something that seemed semi-permanent, and then he’d want the wind in his face and new sights to see.
He’d need to change the oil in the Indian, and pack his pannier bags with some food and water. If he headed into southern Colorado, it wouldn’t do to get caught without water. Maybe he’d go west from here, into the mountains proper. He’d like to see the scenery, and imagined the roads would be perfect for a bike. Musing, he thought he should pick up some kind of map
He froze in place, quickly pulling his fingers out of her and his mouth off her breast. “Baby, I told you to leave your fucking hands where I put them,” he snarled at her, forcing himself not to smile when she quickly put her hands back up against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” was her breathless reply. “I wanted to touch you.”
He nodded, putting his mouth back down beside her nipple, saying, “I know.” He took her breast back into his mouth as he pushed three fingers deep into her cunt. She seemed open and trainable, and if he was going to be around here for any time, it would be good to have someone who was willing.
***
Andy fell over onto his back, breathing heavily. He reached down casually and stripped off the condom, tied a knot in it, and dropped it onto the floor beside the bed. He closed his eyes, forcing his breath into regular rhythms, bringing his racing heart rate down. Sighing, he jumped when he felt fingernails trailing up the inside of his thigh. “Jen, baby,” he used an intentionally discouraging tone, “I’m done for now.”
He refused to let his lips twitch when he felt the hand remove itself hastily. He had a private policy of no cuddling after fucking; it kept the emotional bullshit to a minimum. No cuddling included those slow, sensual touches that women liked after sex. He didn’t like to be touched period outside of actual fucking; it made him feel too vulnerable and he couldn’t afford that, ever. Look what vulnerable had done to his mother, for fuck’s sake.
Opening his eyes, he looked around the efficiency apartment and scoffed at himself. Efficiency was a stretch, because what it really meant was a weekly-rated, one-roomed hole with a hotplate. The bathroom was down the hall, shared with nine other apartments. It was still better than camping out in the field behind the truck stop, with a side bonus of keeping the truck stop hooker visits to a minimum. Once the lot lizards found out he was the one with the tent, they kept him awake almost every night trying to crawl into his sleeping bag.
He’d been gone from home for months now, but when he talked to GeeMa a couple days ago, it sounded like Benny was still doing okay. Andy sent home as much money as he could every month, and she had said that everything she didn’t spend on Ben was going into a savings account. Andy wondered to himself if she was simply socking everything away, but he couldn’t make her spend the money, at least, not from here.
Unloading trucks was hard, physical labor, but it paid well. Unfortunately, it wasn’t steady work, and was only available as long as there were trucks that needed unloading. He could manage five or six loads a day, and depending on the piece count and the weight, he could make between fifty and a hundred dollars per load. Working like this had kept his body in shape, and his arms and back were better defined than ever in his life; he silently flexed his arms as he laced his fingers together behind his head.
The apartment cost seventy-five a week, but he felt that a locking door and sleeping surface that wasn’t covered by rocks or sticks was worth it. For now , he thought, and acknowledged he was starting to itch for the road again. It was that way every time; he’d find something that seemed semi-permanent, and then he’d want the wind in his face and new sights to see.
He’d need to change the oil in the Indian, and pack his pannier bags with some food and water. If he headed into southern Colorado, it wouldn’t do to get caught without water. Maybe he’d go west from here, into the mountains proper. He’d like to see the scenery, and imagined the roads would be perfect for a bike. Musing, he thought he should pick up some kind of map
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