slew of emotions. She ain't pissed at me? I wonder as I switch off my mic and let out a groan that gets lost in the rush of wind around us. I could flat-out shout and nobody would hear me.
“So we have the go ahead to make things right?” Kimmi asks, trying to get clarification for something that shouldn't need clarifying. I'm not saying it's alright to go around killing people, but in these circumstances, we might not have any other choice. Once Bested by Crows knows, really knows , that Tray Walker is dead, then we're screwed. They'll be seeking vengeance and they won't stop until they've got it. Whether that means killing some or all of us, or taking Mireya hostage, I ain't got no clue. As of right now, it's a little hard to concentrate on all that, important as it is. Sawyer's got my dick locked in a death grip, squeezing it so hard I swear to God, the poor fucker's about to break. But it feels so damn good. Right now, I've got the two things in the world that mean most to me: the road and my woman. Doesn't get much better than that. Well, I won't lie, if I could at least get this girl to tell me she loves me, or at the very least accept that I love her, that sure would be fucking nice. I dream of sliding a ring on her finger, claiming her for all the world to see, but that ain't never gonna friggin' happen.
“Make things safe, Kimmi,” Austin says, and I can imagine that he's thinking of Amy, dropping his hand to touch hers where they're clasped around his belly. Me, it's all I can do to keep hold of my bike and not crash us into the dirt on the side of the road. The wind is whistling all around me, stinging the bare skin of my cock as Mireya slides her hand up and down, moving the skin on my shaft and tensing my muscles with pleasure. I don't know why she's doin' what she's doin', but I like it. “Let's see if we can ride this out. Like my mama always said, I don't start shit, but I sure as hell will finish it.”
There's a buzz on the com, and then on comes a song I can actually relate to, even though I kinda wish I didn't. 'Casual Sex' by My Darkest Days bursts out through the speakers as Austin lifts up his bike and hightails it the fuck out of there, flying ahead of the group like he needs some space to think. Me, I couldn't think my way out of a cardboard box. Mireya is coaxing pre-cum from the head of my dick, slicking me up nice and good, letting the wild wind sting it hard. She works me fast and furious, drawing the breath from my lungs, choking the life out of me while I fight against an orgasm. Not often that that happens. No man wants to hold back his load, but shit, if I'm not on the back of a damn bike.
I drop one hand to hers, hoping I can keep us on the road with the other. My fingers tangle around hers, but she doesn't slow, just squeezes tighter and pumps faster, bringing me to the edge and dropping me straight off the fucking cliff.
I come hard and only barely, just barely manage to keep us on the pavement. When Mireya's satisfied that she's fucked me up enough, she withdraws her hand and leaves me with my dick hanging out of my damn pants.
It's not easy to get myself put together, so when we pause in the next town to refuel, I look like a damn fool. I am fucked up six ways to Sunday, breathing heavy and leaning over with my helmet in my lap. Mireya slides off behind me and pauses next to my left side, glaring down at me with narrowed eyes.
“And what in the hell was that for?” I ask her, glancing up with hair in my eyes. I brush it away, but I'm sweaty and sticky from the heat. The hair refuses to budge, sliding across my slick skin as I stare at the love of my life and the grudging respect in her eyes. She's mad at me, yeah. I was right about that. But she's not livid.
“Next time you pick me up like that, you're done,” she growls and then glances around like she's suspicious that someone might be listening in. “But thank you. For stopping me.” She puts her hands on her rounded
“So we have the go ahead to make things right?” Kimmi asks, trying to get clarification for something that shouldn't need clarifying. I'm not saying it's alright to go around killing people, but in these circumstances, we might not have any other choice. Once Bested by Crows knows, really knows , that Tray Walker is dead, then we're screwed. They'll be seeking vengeance and they won't stop until they've got it. Whether that means killing some or all of us, or taking Mireya hostage, I ain't got no clue. As of right now, it's a little hard to concentrate on all that, important as it is. Sawyer's got my dick locked in a death grip, squeezing it so hard I swear to God, the poor fucker's about to break. But it feels so damn good. Right now, I've got the two things in the world that mean most to me: the road and my woman. Doesn't get much better than that. Well, I won't lie, if I could at least get this girl to tell me she loves me, or at the very least accept that I love her, that sure would be fucking nice. I dream of sliding a ring on her finger, claiming her for all the world to see, but that ain't never gonna friggin' happen.
“Make things safe, Kimmi,” Austin says, and I can imagine that he's thinking of Amy, dropping his hand to touch hers where they're clasped around his belly. Me, it's all I can do to keep hold of my bike and not crash us into the dirt on the side of the road. The wind is whistling all around me, stinging the bare skin of my cock as Mireya slides her hand up and down, moving the skin on my shaft and tensing my muscles with pleasure. I don't know why she's doin' what she's doin', but I like it. “Let's see if we can ride this out. Like my mama always said, I don't start shit, but I sure as hell will finish it.”
There's a buzz on the com, and then on comes a song I can actually relate to, even though I kinda wish I didn't. 'Casual Sex' by My Darkest Days bursts out through the speakers as Austin lifts up his bike and hightails it the fuck out of there, flying ahead of the group like he needs some space to think. Me, I couldn't think my way out of a cardboard box. Mireya is coaxing pre-cum from the head of my dick, slicking me up nice and good, letting the wild wind sting it hard. She works me fast and furious, drawing the breath from my lungs, choking the life out of me while I fight against an orgasm. Not often that that happens. No man wants to hold back his load, but shit, if I'm not on the back of a damn bike.
I drop one hand to hers, hoping I can keep us on the road with the other. My fingers tangle around hers, but she doesn't slow, just squeezes tighter and pumps faster, bringing me to the edge and dropping me straight off the fucking cliff.
I come hard and only barely, just barely manage to keep us on the pavement. When Mireya's satisfied that she's fucked me up enough, she withdraws her hand and leaves me with my dick hanging out of my damn pants.
It's not easy to get myself put together, so when we pause in the next town to refuel, I look like a damn fool. I am fucked up six ways to Sunday, breathing heavy and leaning over with my helmet in my lap. Mireya slides off behind me and pauses next to my left side, glaring down at me with narrowed eyes.
“And what in the hell was that for?” I ask her, glancing up with hair in my eyes. I brush it away, but I'm sweaty and sticky from the heat. The hair refuses to budge, sliding across my slick skin as I stare at the love of my life and the grudging respect in her eyes. She's mad at me, yeah. I was right about that. But she's not livid.
“Next time you pick me up like that, you're done,” she growls and then glances around like she's suspicious that someone might be listening in. “But thank you. For stopping me.” She puts her hands on her rounded
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