Pure Iron by Holly Bargo Page A

smell and taste of her. Then he crawled back up her body and flipped her over, raising her hips to his rampant cock. He groaned as he eased into her body, groaned again as he withdrew, watching his thick rod advance and retreat inside her hungry flesh. Soon, she was begging him again, pushing her ass at him, crying for him to go more deeply into her body, to fill her and never leave. Her desperation snapped his frayed control. He plunged into her body, desperate in his own right to make her shatter with extreme pleasure and to find his own delayed release.
    They lay entwined when Mick’s phone played the refrain from Band on the Run. He reached over and picked it up.
    “Yeah?”
    “Hey, man, we’re here.”
    “You’re early.”
    “Yeah? So quick fucking your girl and bring her down to meet us. We’re in the Omnia.”
    Mick turned his head to look at Sonia. Her rumpled hair, her flushed skin, her swollen lips, her languorous expression, and the red marks from his mouth and beard festooning her soft skin all proclaimed her still marinating in the aftershock of passion.
    “Give us an hour,” he said and disconnected.
    He merged his mouth with hers, tongue tasting her fully. She sucked on his tongue and his hips bucked in response. “The boys are here,” he said, ending the kiss even as he crawled over her body and settled his hips between her legs. “We’re going to have to make this quick.”
    So saying, he drove forward, one sure thrust that seated him fully inside her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist. A few seconds later, he pounded into her, driving them both furiously and fast into a shared climax just a few minutes later.
    “Shower,” he gasped.
    In order to ensure that they didn’t linger under the water, the suite’s two showers received simultaneous use. Sonia spent another five minutes blow-drying her hair and applying mascara and lip gloss from the supplies in her purse, as Mick hadn’t packed any cosmetics in her luggage. Not having a fresh change of clothes, she wore that morning’s sun dress and undergarments.
    It was a good thing they were flying out that evening. She needed fresh clothes.
    When she emerged, Mick had donned followed the same protocol as she, but without the minimal cosmetics and blow-dried hair.
    “You are so pretty,” he complimented her, voice thick with desire.
    Her eyes flickered to his crotch where the predictable reaction bulged.
    “Keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it downstairs,” he warned.
    She bit her lower lip and worried it with her teeth. A deep breath made her breasts swell and strain against the cotton bodice of her dress. He wanted to drag her back to that bed that smelled of passion, but he knew that it would be best to get the initial meeting with the band done and over with. Any further delay and the boys would make his life unbearable. He did not like to think of what puerile torment Sonia would have to endure. He held out his hand and she took it.
    He held her close while they rode in the elevator. He could feel her nervousness in the stiff way she held herself. He toyed with the notion of stopping the elevator, bending her over, and fucking the anxiety right out of her. But that would have been a dickheaded move. Even he could figure that out.
    Didn’t stop his dick from voicing its approval of that idea, though.
    The elevator doors opened and the car disgorged its passengers. Mick and Sonia followed the hotel signs to the nightclub where Davis, Angelo, Kristof, and Jack had commandeered a table. A tall Black man, both muscled and lanky, detached himself from the group and approached. He held out his fist which Mick bumped with his own.
    “Hey, man. This is your wife?”
    Sonia looked up, up, and up some more. Mick was tall, but this guy … wow, he was basketball player material. His expression was slightly forbidding, but not hostile. She huddled into Mick’s side.
    “Good to see you, Davis,” Mick replied.