BAKER (Devil's Disciples Book 1)(24)

Through the course of it all, I never faltered. Not once. Solid as a rock was how my MC brethren described me. Regardless of what life tossed in front of me, I knew I would never stumble, take pause, or deviate from my normal manner of behavior.

Being in Andy’s presence caused me to question my beliefs.

I’d formulated and carried out plans to rob banks during their business hours, break into Federal Savings and Loan institutions that were considered burglar-proof, and even relieved a political dignitary of his jewels while he was traveling in an armed motorcade.

But.

I couldn’t seem to concoct a way to rid myself of Andy.

For her safety – and for my well-being – I desperately needed to end what was developing between us. I was foolish for having fucked her in the first place. If I didn’t make a change quickly, Cash would eventually see us together.

When he did all bets were off.

I gazed through the glass of her office window, focused solely on ending the sexual relationship between us. Getting rid of her entirely could come later.

Count to three, Bake.

Then, turn around and tell her you’re married.

I drew a shallow breath.

One.

Two.

Three.

I faced her. Like sheets of fine golden silk tinged with vermilion, her hair cascaded over her shoulders. Wearing an innocent smile, she looked at me and batted her eyes. Until that moment, I would have described them as simply being brown.

They weren’t.

They were the color of honey. Thin shards of broken brown glass were sprinkled throughout the iris, adding such depth and beauty that I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

She broke my gaze and turned toward her desk. I needed one last look at her. An image I could hold onto long after she was gone. I reached for her shoulder.

She spun around and looked me in the eyes.

Eliminating her from my life wasn’t possible.

Fueled by nothing more than carnal desire, I lifted her from her feet and stumbled toward the wall. As we came crashing to a stop against it, she searched my eyes for answers.

I didn’t have an answer.

It wasn’t love. Hell, it wouldn’t even qualify as lust. If I had to identify the driving force behind what was happening to me, I’d blame it on her voodoo pussy. Explaining that to her, however, would cause her to view me as an idiot.

Her lips parted slightly. I feared she was going to speak. There wasn’t anything she could say that I was willing to hear. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to fuck. The only thing that came to mind to keep her from speaking wasn’t at all what I expected.

I kissed her.

She returned the kiss with uninhibited passion. I pressed my body against hers and blindly reached for the hem of her dress. In response, her hands fumbled to unbuckle my belt. As wrong as I knew it was, at that moment it was perfect. At that moment, there was no risk. At that moment, my ability to reason was lost.

I flipped her dress above her waist and reached for her panties. Frustrated, and aching to feel myself inside her, I yanked against the material until it broke free. After tearing the other side in two, I tossed the tattered material on the floor at our side.

She spread her legs wide and raised her hips until her inner thighs brushed against me. As our tongues continued to dance together fervently, she guided my cock into her wetness.

I thrust myself deep inside of her and closed my eyes. Nothing. Else. Mattered.

Our lips parted.

Our eyes met.

I was mindless. Lost in the feeling that filled me when I was inside of her, I stared at her blankly while I caught my breath.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and sucked in a breath. “Fuck me…” she said through her teeth. “…like there’s no rules.”

When my cock was buried deep inside her tight little pussy, I knew very little. At that instant, however, I knew one thing.

Quitting her was going to be impossible.





TWELVE - Andy





He was either disappointed with me or trying to prove a point. I didn’t care which it was. I’d always wanted to be smashed up against a wall and shoved full of dick by a tattooed biker. He was simply satisfying a fantasy I’d harbored for years.

“I. Love. Fucking. Your. Tight. Little. Pussy.” Each spoken word of his admission was complimented with a savage shove of his entire length.

Suspended above the floor by nothing more than the force of him fucking me, my thank you came in the form of a grunt that shot from my lungs each time he thrust his hips.

With his jeans around his ankles and my dress draped over his forearms, he continued like a man possessed by sexual demons. Caught up in the moment and enjoying every inch of what he offered me, I gave no objection.

The air between grew thick with the scent of his cologne. He smelled like heaven. I closed my eyes and allowed the aroma to carry me away.

His ability to transform me to a place void of outside influence fascinated me.

But. He was still a man. And, men were evil creatures. They lied, cheated, and ruined the lives of everyone in their wake. Baker’s surprise kiss somehow allowed me to forget that fact. For that moment, while we were embraced in the kiss, my past – and all the memories associated with it – vanished.

Unlike most women, I’d never really enjoyed kissing or being kissed. It was far too intimate of an act. Baker’s kiss was different. It brought with it a wave of complexity that cast me into an unfamiliar place. Despite the magic of the kiss, he a man.