Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(119)



My dick wanted to rip right through my trousers and push between her legs. The fiery pull between us was magnetic, pleading, do-or-f*cking-die.

Goddamned it. I had to get her dressed now before I forgot all about the shit I had planned in the gardens. If I didn't, my appetite for anything besides serious f*cking would be wiped.

“Pick something warm,” I said, dropping the towel and walking her over to the closet. “It's a chilly night out there. There's a little jacket in there if you really need it.”

She disappeared into the big walk-in closet. I waited outside it, re-thinking my dumbass encouragement for dressing in layers. Well, f*ck. It's not like whatever she picked would be staying on all night anyway.

We'd all wind up naked, whether it was in the grass or in this bed. I was gonna f*ck her like it was our last time tonight – and if God was cruel, it might be. My heart pounded lava through my veins, and it all went straight to my dick, hammering away in my pants 'til she finally stepped out.

Christ. Even when she was dressed in a cool cashmere sweater and a nice thick skirt flowing down to her ankles, she was beautiful. My fingers twitched at my sides, aching to grab her silky black hair and shove her to the wall, rip that shit off, and get inside her right now.

Control yourself, *, a voice rumbled in my head. You've done it before and it always pays dividends when you finally get your dick wet.

Yeah, but not like this. Not with anyone like her. I still had a lot to learn about this chick, but she'd become a f*cking obsession I couldn't banish from my head. Morning, noon, or night, everything revolved around her, and not just because she was the master key to putting Gioulio Ligiotti in his grave.

“Well? Are we going? I'm anxious to see what this big secret is.”

I swallowed. Fucking idiot. Felt just like a kid again about to go off to prom. Of course, that night I'd discovered I was a natural animal in bed. The little girl who rode my dick must've squirted three times for every load I popped.

I used a condom then, same as ninety percent of the chicks I ever f*cked. But not with Sabrina.

I'd never, ever keep rubber between that sweet * and me. I'd fill her the f*ck up and watch it run outta her pink slit with pride, one of many ways her perfect body smoked when it was done burning, trembling, and screaming on my flesh.

We got outside and headed downstairs, down the fork in the hall leading to the back gardens. Good thing Daniel was drowning his ass in the bar downstairs again. He would've given me shit over spending the night outside, even though the back gardens were totally enclosed.

Fucker worried too much about the Feds. Too much about her escaping too. What good was freedom if I couldn't do the shit I wanted because I was too busy looking over my shoulder for bastards eager to drag me back to prison?

No way. No how. I wasn't letting anything get in the way of tonight, and right now I wanted her warmth more than I loved the cool Fall breeze brushing against my skin.

When we stepped through the big glass door leading out back, she stopped and stared. The garden was lit with torches stretching all the way to the gazebo with the table, where dinner and wine waited for us.

I normally preferred something harder to go with my steak, but for her, I'd go classy as f*ck. If I was hoping to knock her panties off, I'd done the job too well.

I had to grab her and pull her along the soft lit path to get the girl moving again. She couldn't stop gawking at the display, marveling at all the vines and flowers we passed on our way in. Old Grigor gave a respectful nod as we walked by him.

I nodded back, letting him know he was dismissed. He wanted to make sure everything was cool. Of course it was because the family kept the right man in charge of this shit. And if something was f*cked, he'd come roaring back when I called to fix it.

Pulling out a chair next to me for Sabrina, I waved. “Sit down, babe. This is a special night.”

She sat down, and then I took the chair across from her, trying to switch my brain off sex for one micro-second. Dinner helped with that.

Sabrina talked all about her life in the windy city while we ate. After her mom died, her old man got f*cked up on all sorts of junk and put her in bastard Gioulio's orbit. The f*ck kept her close like a caged dove – without her even realizing it.

“Uncle always wanted me to be a good girl. He saved me from getting in too deep with the family business, steered me into journalism instead,” she said. “I guess he hoped I'd end up growing up and traveling the world for stories. He never counted on a burning interest in the local stuff – especially the roots my family's helped lay down here. Living history, you know.”

I nodded, popping a perfect piece of steak in my mouth. Goddamn, it was good. Not so good it took any attention off f*cking her, though.

“Don't you think he was trying to control you? He knew you'd break if you found out what he was into. You'd want no part of it.”

She stared at her plate thoughtfully. “Yeah, I suppose. After what you've showed me...I wonder if I know who he is at all. Uncle Gioulio's not the man I thought he was. I knew bad things were happening in the drug world to keep the money and the lifestyle coming. I just never thought he was trafficking women. I never thought he'd go that far.”

Her angry eyes darted up. If she was pissed at me for ripping back the curtain, fine. It didn't matter as long as most of that rage was directed at her own flesh and blood, the * who deserved to be taken out swiftly, ending a decades old cat and mouse game.

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