The Night Horde SoCal: Fire And Dark Part 14

When his hand went to Red's a.s.s and he bent down to kiss her, Pilar...well, she lost her s.h.i.+t. A little. She had no right to, but that hardly mattered.

Clearing the remaining distance in about four strides, she grabbed Red by the shoulder and yanked her back. "Sorry, chica. Connor's got plans tonight."

But Red wasn't one of Connor's little teeny-boppers. She was young, but she wasn't nave-she had the cold look of a chick who'd seen some s.h.i.+t. She turned on Pilar, hauling off and punching her right in the eye. "f.u.c.k off, b.i.t.c.h!"

Pilar hadn't expected that, and it hurt. But she could throw a punch, too-which she did, right into Red's bare belly. Pilar felt the chick's navel jewelry dig into her knuckles. Red doubled over, coughing.

The room's attention was pulling to the scene, and Pilar could sense that Red had friends, girls heading into the fray. She could fight, but not if she was heavily outnumbered. And some of the guys looked excited, like they couldn't wait to see a b.i.t.c.h brawl.

But then Connor grabbed her, hooking his arm across her chest and pulling her back against him, and he caught Red's hand as it swung again.

"Okay, ladies. I'm flattered. But enough. Tina, I'll catch you later."

'Tina' looked furious, but she didn't challenge Connor at all. In fact, she forced the anger from her face and put a smile on instead. "Okay, Connor. Whenever you want me."

Pilar scoffed and side-eyed the b.i.t.c.h. What a wh.o.r.e. With a venomous look at Pilar, Tina sashayed off, and a couple of girls rushed up to check on her.

Connor leaned down and put his mouth near her ear. "I don't know what the f.u.c.k you're doing here, or what your problem is, but you're coming with me right now or I'm gonna let Tina and the girls have what they want with you."

His voice sounded different from what she knew of it-heavier, thick with threat. But she'd come in here like every cliche of a jealous woman rolled into one, and she'd started it all. Plus, she did want to be alone with him; it was why she was even here.

She nodded. "Okay, yeah."

He moved his arm, turning her and hooking his huge hand over the back of her neck. Then he led her through the room and down a hallway. At the end of the hall, he stopped in front of one of the several doors that lined both sides, and he unlocked it.

"Get in."

She went in, and he closed-and locked-the door behind them. Then he hit a switch, and the overhead light, which was part of a ceiling fan, came on.

They were in a bedroom. His bedroom, she a.s.sumed. It was obviously not for public use-there were personal items everywhere, and the bed had the kind of linens that people had for themselves-tan with brown and blue stripes. Not basic motel linens. It was a small room, not especially messy, but obviously lived in.

"You live here?"

"I'm asking the questions. Sit." He indicated an elderly armchair in the corner of the room. She took the seat, and he sat on the bed. "What the f.u.c.k, Cordero?"

When she'd left the house, she'd been operating on instinct, want, and loneliness. She had no plan, no intention beyond being with him. There might have been the fantasy of walking in and finding him alone, and just going straight up to him and kissing him, him wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her back.

Yeah, that would have been best case.

But while she'd been unable to want anybody else-which, she was sure, wasn't helping her on the loneliness front-he obviously had no problem getting his k.n.o.b polished. Seeing him getting pawed at, and enjoying it, had made her nuts.

Nuts enough to want to break somebody's face. Which Connor had done to Moore.

Of course, she had reason to be jealous. He did not.

Except that they both had the same reason to be jealous. There was something between them. Something real.

The problem was that she was the only one willing to admit it.

So that was her plan. Get him to admit it, or make herself accept that he simply would not. Start something with him or move on. That was the plan.

She'd waited too long to answer his angry question. He huffed and asked another. "Are you in trouble?"

Oh, yes. She definitely was. But that wasn't what he'd meant. "No. I wanted to see you."

He chuckled sarcastically and looked away. "Well, you did that. Made a f.u.c.king entrance, too. Why?"

"Same reason you beat the s.h.i.+t out of Moore."

His head swiveled back, and he looked at her with narrowed eyes. "You fight Tina before? Need a rematch?"

"f.u.c.k, Connor. Please let's just be straight with each other. We are not kids. Can't we just be honest?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, his s.h.i.+rt still open from Tina's seduction, and for a second Pilar was distracted by the sight. G.o.d, he was gorgeous. He was also angry; his breast heaved with it. "I've been nothing but. I told you what I wanted. I thought you wanted it, too. I'm not the one who f.u.c.ked up a good thing."

"You're f.u.c.king it up right now." All at once, Pilar was just too weary. She felt self-conscious and exposed, rejected and awkward. She'd nearly started a brawl over this guy, and he wasn't even strong enough to admit that he felt something for her. It had been stupid to come here.

And anyway, she had her answer. He wouldn't admit it. So it was time to move on.

She stood. "Okay, Connor. You win. I'm sorry I barged in and interrupted your night. I'm gonna go. I'm sure Tina's motor's still revving."

He said nothing. She crossed the small room and went to the door. It took her a second to turn the lock. By the time she was opening the door, he was right behind her. He slammed his hand on the flat wood and forced the door shut.

For a second, two seconds, three, four, five, neither of them moved or spoke. Pilar's heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her jaw.

"I don't like to lose," he spoke low, his head looming over hers. His voice was little more than a growl.

"I know. Me, either."

"You said you didn't want this."

"I know. I was wrong."

She could feel tension leaving him slowly; she could see it-his hand relaxed just slightly on the door. "The life I lead...I break the law every f.u.c.king day. My life is violent. I am violent. I end plenty of days was.h.i.+ng blood away. People I love have been hurt because of what we do. You could get hurt. This life is the wild side."

Pilar resisted the urge to lean her head on the door in pure relief. She wasn't sure there was even a name for the emotion that was swirling through her veins. It wasn't love; it couldn't possibly be love already. But it was the thing that eventually became love, whatever that was.

"I know, Connor. I know who you are."

He laughed bitterly and bent down, his mouth right at her ear. "No, you don't. You can't know who I am unless you're in my life. But don't you f.u.c.king tell me you want in and think you can say that and then leave any time, when you decide you were wrong. Don't jerk me around like that."

She turned and leaned back on the wall next to the door. "I'm telling you I know. I grew up on the wild side. We haven't even started, so I can't tell you it's forever right this second. Maybe you won't want it to be forever. Maybe I won't. But can't we even try? If we end, it won't be because I ran away in fear. Your life doesn't scare me. I know what you do-more than most. And I know you could get hurt or killed."

He was staring down at her with such intensity that her face felt warm. She put a hand on his bare chest, over his heart, and he blinked, once, slowly, and then the heat of his gaze was even stronger.

She had more to say, though. "Does my life scare you? Every s.h.i.+ft is a night I'm away from home. Every day I clock in could be the day I never go home again. Can you handle that?"

As an answer, he kissed her.

His mouth came down and covered hers ferociously, and his hand left the door and snagged hold of her hair. His beard strafed her lips, chin, cheeks. He leaned in, onto her, and devoured her.

And oh s.h.i.+t, it felt good.

Reeling from the surge and swirl of too many emotions, Pilar at first simply let him kiss her. She couldn't catch up-but then she did. Her hand was still on his chest; she pushed it up over his shoulder and around to grasp at the back of his head Her other hand she slid into his jeans, loving the sound he made as her palm skimmed his hip and then his a.s.s. He rocked his hips, pressing his erection on her belly, and deepened the kiss, forcing her tongue to twist and curl with his.

And then he broke away, panting. "You work tomorrow?"

"No," she gasped. "I go in at seven Sunday morning for a twenty-four."

"Thank f.u.c.king Christ. Stay here tonight."

So excited she almost shouted YES, she caught herself just before the word left her lips. "I can't"-before she could finish, he pushed away, his forehead creasing angrily, but her hand was caught in his jeans, so he didn't get far. "Wait. I can't just f.u.c.k you. I'm already feeling...involved. I can't do f.u.c.k buddies with you. Are we more than that?"

He c.o.c.ked his head, the anger leaving his face again. "Isn't that why you came here?"

"Yeah. But you confuse me. I need to be clear. Are we serious now?"

"I confuse you?" He laughed and brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek; it was a little tender from Tina's fist, but not bad, and his touch was light. She thought maybe this sweep of his fingers was the first simply gentle touch they'd had. "Cordero, I'm in f.u.c.king knots. Yeah. We're serious."

"Exclusive, then. Just you and me. No more girls."

He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at her. "No more handsy firefighters, either."

She actually stomped her foot. "f.u.c.k! I don't f.u.c.k Moore. We never have. We tried once and it was just weird, like macking on a sibling. He is no threat to you."

"Well, that's true. I could tear that b.a.s.t.a.r.d into quarters." She hit his chest in frustration, and he laughed. "Okay, I get it." He reached for her belt buckle and started undoing her jeans. "So n.o.body else. Exclusive. And you're away half the week. Awesome."

As he started to pull her jeans off her hips, she grabbed his hand. "You can deal with that, right?"

"Can I stop by for a f.u.c.k on a fire engine? Saw that in an old movie once-up on the hoses."

f.u.c.king Backdraft. "No, we are not going to f.u.c.k on an engine."

"That's not your kink, either, huh?"

"No." He was focused on her jeans again, so she lifted his chin and made him look her in the eyes. "My kink is I like to be hurt a little."

He went still. "What?"

"Relax. Nothing crazy. I don't want to get beat up or bruised or cut or whatever. But you already know I like it rough. I like hard touch, especially when I've got bad s.h.i.+t in my head-it's why I tried to get you to fight me that night in the storeroom. I like to be moved around. I also like to be tied up and...well, I have some toys I like when I am."

"That hurt you."

"That are hard touch." s.h.i.+t, was that the thing he couldn't deal with? "It's nothing I need. Just something I like."

He shook his head. "Everybody needs to f.u.c.k the way they like. Especially if you need it to come off bad feelings."

She stood straight, ready to pull her jeans up. Her stomach lurched in the tempest of emotions she'd been sailing through all night. "Is that too much for you?"

"No." He answered right away, but not like he was jumping the gun; that was something. "I just never...I saw vibrators in your drawer. I've used those on women before. That's about it." He pulled her hands from her jeans. "But I'm a quick study."

With that, he pulled her jeans and panties down to her ankles and knelt at her feet. With her jeans binding her, she couldn't spread her legs, but that didn't stop him. He circled his hands around her knees and pulled, getting her to unlock them. Then he grasped her hips and leaned forward, sliding his tongue between her folds, over her c.l.i.t and then back again.

"f.u.c.k, Cordero, you taste sweet."

"Pilar. Call me Pilar."

He looked up. "What? I thought you wanted me to-"

With a shake of her head, she stopped his words. "Not anymore."

"You are one confusing chick. But okay. Pilar it is. Again." He grinned. "I like it, by the way. It's s.e.xy." Before she could respond, he leaned back in and went to work.

He had no trouble locating her c.l.i.t and stayed right on it, flicking the tip of his tongue and dragging its flat surface over that small knot of nerves again and again, varying the touch in ways she couldn't predict. She shot up like a bullet to the brink, and then he perched her there, kept her on the precipice, his fingers digging into her hips, his beard rasping over her thighs, her mound. She trembled there for an eternity, until her body was literally trembling. And then, with a chuckle, he stopped playing around and got her off. He flicked his tongue firmly over her c.l.i.t, with fierce determination, until she thought she might die, and then the release finally came.

She grabbed hold of his head as sparks of pure pleasure fired her body. She could hear her moans and squeals-oh G.o.d, there were squeals; she'd be embarra.s.sed about that later-resound in the room. She rarely made noise when she came; she tended to get quiet. She must have had a lot of pent-up need. Well, h.e.l.l yeah, she did. She hadn't been f.u.c.ked in two weeks!

As she settled, she expected him to stop. She needed him to stop. But he didn't. He kept going, paying the same dedicated, forceful attention to that tiny, painfully over-stimulated cl.u.s.ter. His hands were clenched so tightly around her hips that they ached. Too much. Too much. Oh s.h.i.+t, too much.

But she didn't stop him. Because she knew this thing, how it would play out, what the discomfort she was feeling now, the way her body tried of its own will to escape him, rocking back against his tightening hold, what it all would lead to. So she held on to his head and let him continue.

The pain really was, for those first moments, nearly unbearable. But then it wasn't. And immediately after the pain was gone, an o.r.g.a.s.m twice as intense as the first landed on her like an anvil.

She howled, a feral, insane sound. And this time, when her body had completely escaped her control and she collapsed on him in a spasming heap, he stood and kissed her again, filling her head with her own taste and scent.

Then he picked her up and dropped her on the bed in another heap.

He stripped, laying his kutte over the chair she'd been sitting in earlier. When he came naked back to the bed, she hadn't moved. She was too exhausted. It was possible that she hadn't even had a thought.

So, still without saying a word, he stripped her, pulling off her boots and socks, her jeans and underwear, her top and bra. She lay and let him move her. When he rolled her to her belly and pulled her hips up high, she pushed her knees under, presenting her a.s.s to him.

He left her to go to his dresser. With her head on the bed, she watched him dig out a condom and roll it on. When he returned, he squatted at the side of the bed, face to face with her. "You have to tell me what you don't want. I've never thought about how to do something like this. I'm just making this up as I go."

"I'll tell you. But you know what to do. Just...go hard."

"You have a whatever-safe word or something?"

She laughed into the covers. "How about 'stop.'"

He laughed, too. "The old standard. Right." As he got up, he kissed her shoulder. Then he went to the end of the bed, leaned over and grabbed her wrists. He pulled them behind her and crossed them on the small of her back. She could feel him wrap one of his big hands around both her wrists.

"Oh, yes," she gasped. "Yeah, this is good."

She heard his chuckle as he pushed his c.o.c.k over her totally exposed p.u.s.s.y, letting it brush up and down a few times. "You are f.u.c.king amazing, Pilar."

With that, he pushed into her-one motion, b.a.l.l.s deep. He was big, and b.a.l.l.s deep for him was really f.u.c.king deep. Pilar gasped and clenched around him, and he made that growly sound again, deep in his chest. Then, with his free hand, he reached out and grabbed her hair.

Holding her like that, one hand restraining her arms, the other pulling her head sharply back by her hair, he began to thrust. And he went for it from the first thrust.