Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)(49)
Elle waved at the old lady and whispered to Jack, “I told you they take neighborhood watch very seriously.”
Once inside the house, Jack put her down and stared at her.
Under his gaze and with a wiseass smile on her face, she undressed and knelt in front of him, nuzzling his hard-on over his pants, those sweet little breaths of hers slamming against his cock.
He’d dreamed about this for-f*cking-ever. Not sure he could survive it though.
She didn’t give him much choice, because before he could even gather his thoughts, she’d unzipped him and was licking his cock.
No matter how many times he’d dreamed about this, it didn’t even come close to the reality of having Elle at his feet, giving him head, her hands working his shaft while her mouth devilishly worked the crown, raking her teeth over his slit before taking him deep into her throat.
He was dressed and standing. She was naked, sucking his cock on her knees while he held her head, yet she was the one with all the power. And she knew it.
He forced her to let go of him and stand up.
“Hey!” she complained. “I was enjoying that.”
“I want to come inside you.”
“You would have,” she teased, making his erection jumped even more.
What she could do to him with just words should be illegal. It probably was too. “Offer yourself to me.”
She walked toward the table, sat on it, and slowly parted her legs, her fingers holding her * opened for him to see.
“You’re dripping wet,” he growled.
“Sucking you turned me on. Are you coming over, or do I have to take care of myself?” she asked mischievously, sliding two fingers inside her, shivering at the pleasure.
“I take care of my woman,” he said, walking to her, pulling her fingers out of her *, and licking them. Then he spread her wide, nudging the head of his cock against her swollen folds. At the contact, her entrance spasmed visibly. “You want me.”
She nodded.
“Watch us.”
She did, her eyes glassy, her lips red and puffy from giving him head, her * slowly yielding to him.
They fit perfectly. As small as she was, she wasn’t fragile. She took all of him and when he pulled out, she whimpered in protest, her core clenching, unwilling to let go.
“I love how you feel.” She reached for his cock while he was withdrawing from her and caressed him, raking her nails over his engorged veins. “Inside me and down my throat.”
He did too. Much more than he should. Much more than he was ready to admit.
He’d been the one ordering her to watch as he took her, but he hadn’t counted on the growing intimacy swirling around them, pressing at his chest, not letting him breathe. He plunged inside her, his piercing slamming against her clit, ripping a ragged moan out of her. Without giving her time to react, he set a hard tempo and proceeded to f*ck the hell out of her while she grabbed the table, trying to withstand the onslaught, unable to keep the eye contact or talk anymore.
Now he could breathe again.
Nico scanned the gay bar and found his target, seemingly alone. Perfect.
He’d gone through all possible scenarios while tracing Aalto’s steps that fateful day. Who he might have met, who he might have spoken with. Dead ends, all of them. Hopefully this was going to bear fruit. It better, seeing all the trouble he was going to. Tracking this backpacking crowd all over the island.
Nico reached the counter and flagged the waiter. “A beer, please. And another of whatever he’s drinking,” he said smiling at the man standing beside him, who gave Nico a once-over and liked what he saw, if the way his eyes sparkled was anything to go by.
“Gin and tonic. Thanks. I’m Donald, by the way. Don.”
Nico knew. Donald Solis. Supervisor at the airline poor Marlene Cabrera had worked for.
“You alone, Don?”
“Not anymore.”
It always surprised Nico how easy it was to pick up men. Those morons didn’t seem to have any self-preservation instincts whatsoever. Actually, every person, man or woman, seemed to go brain-dead while on vacation.
It took him a total of thirty-five minutes to get Don to leave the joint with him. Like stealing candy from a baby, really.
It took him another fifteen more to get Donald to give Elle Cooper up.
Chapter Twelve
Elle couldn’t tear her eyes from Jack, too enthralled to even fiddle with the truck radio, despite how satisfying it was to bug him. Her terminator was a sight to behold. Gorgeous in regular clothes, in a tuxedo he was breathtaking. He’d been dolled up at her sister’s wedding, but then Elle and Jack didn’t have an intimate relationship. She hadn’t seen him naked. Hadn’t felt his hands over her, his cock pushing inside her, his body straining and his face feral as he single-mindedly f*cked her. With all those memories and that sensory input fresh in her mind, Jack’s primal nature contained inside those proper clothes revved her up like nothing before had.
“We’re here,” he muttered, turning off the motor in front of the posh hotel where the gathering organized by Patricia Vaughan was to take place.
Jack was not pleased with this party, but they hadn’t been able to get out of it. Patricia Vaughan, Annie’s grandmother, wanted to present her great-granddaughter into society and as Jonah had been born several weeks after Lizzie, he had been included too. Elle and Jack, as godparents, had been strongly encouraged to attend.