Wild Wind: A Chaos Novella (Chaos #6.6)(44)

He lifted his head, went in, and sucked her nipple in his mouth.

She made a low noise and went faster.

He switched nipples but cupped her free breast and pinched the slick bud in rhythm with her bounces.

He held the pinch and rolled as he popped her nipple out of his mouth, tipped his head back and ordered, “Faster.”

“Baby,” she whispered, but didn’t adjust speed.

He spanked her ass.

She went faster.

Jag slid a hand up her spine, into her hair, pulling it back, arching her in front of him.

Her pussy clamped hard simultaneously with her gasp.

Jag’s balls drew up.

Her tits bounced, nipples dark and peaked.

He looked down and saw his cock swallowed again and again by her trimmed bush.

Fuck.

Hot.

Too hot.

Her work was done.

He surged up, filling her, twisted, fell down with her on her back on the couch, and he took over.

She wrapped her legs around his thighs, grabbed his ass, and slid her finger to the first knuckle inside him.

Fuck.

Hot.

He grunted, reached between them and pinched her clit.

That did it.

She cried out and blew.

Then he blew, bucking deep and spewing a big load even if it was the fifth time he’d come that day, the third time that evening.

He came down and rode her gentle.

She circled her finger slowly inside him and tongued the skin of his neck and ear as she did, and when he pulled out, she did too.

He rolled so his back was to the back of the couch.

She kissed his collarbone, raked her teeth over his nipple, and slid off the couch.

He watched the silk of her robe dance along her round ass as she walked to her bathroom.

Jag repositioned to lying on his back and raked his fingers in his hair from his forehead back.

And he kept them there.

He stayed that way even after Archie came back and stretched out on top of him.

“Seems fucking you produces unending amounts of my jizz.”

Her body rocked with her laughter.

He shoved a hand between them until he found the tie on her robe. He tugged it then pushed the fabric aside so they were full-length skin against skin and his hands had unfettered access to the rest of her.

Then he took advantage of that unfettered access.

“So we did Vail today, you wanna do Estes Park next weekend?” he asked.

“Can we ride up Saturday and spend the night somewhere?” she asked back.

“Does it have to be in a yurt?”

Her body shook with her humor again and she answered, “No.” She lifted her head and pushed up so they were face to face. “Doesn’t my boy rough it?”

“There are things I’ll sacrifice at a rally when most the time I’m drunk as fuck and the rest of the time I’m hungover so I don’t give a shit. If the end of the road means time spent between your legs, I want privacy and a shower nearby that I’m not sharing with other people.”

“I’ve never been to a bike rally.”

“We’ll get on remedying that.”

“Cool,” she murmured, grinning down at him.

Using both hands, Jag pulled her thick hair behind her ears and noted, “Good call on wait-for-it, just-us, nothing-pressing-in first fuck session, baby. Today has been the best.”

“Totally the best,” she agreed, dipping in to touch lips. “I’ll never forget it.”

“Me either.”

“I have a confession to make,” she announced.

“I’ve got ears,” he told her.

She grinned bigger and stated, “I’ve never fucked in a yurt.”

He started laughing while he wrapped both arms around her and switched their positions.

When he was on top, he looked into her eyes and promised, “We’ll remedy that too.”

She slid her fingers across his cheek then lifted her head, tilting it, in order to kiss him.

Jag angled his and kissed her back.

And yeah, he’d find—three more times—fucking her produced unending amounts of his cum.

So when they eventually passed out, on some pillows and blankets they’d dragged onto the floor, Jag had no tension in his neck or anywhere.

And he slept like a baby.





Chapter Eleven



I Kinda Dig You



Jagger



Even though he wasn’t expecting her, Jag knew she was there before he saw her.

This was because, across the three huge bays of the garage, the vibe shifted from men at work direct to the heavy air of a slew of dudes who were on the make.

Adding to that, Joker, who was bent over an engine with him, said slow, “Well…shit.”

Jag looked to his right, at Joker, who was looking through the opening at the side of the hood.

Jag then pulled out from under the hood, doing this in unison with Joker, and saw Archie strolling toward him.

She was wearing a pair of camo short-shorts with a denim-blue tube top and a white gauzy duster drifting off her shoulders that fell to the backs of her knees. She had a tangle of delicate gold necklaces trailing down her front and Adidas Superstars that had neon pink stripes on her feet.

And as she went, not a man was working in that garage—and they employed five mechanics, with two apprentices (and all of them were on shift), not to mention the Chaos brothers who worked in the garage when the spirit moved them (and that day, Shy and Dog were in the building).