With every thrust, I rise onto my toes. I’m standing outside his truck in the woods around Makeout Point.
We didn’t make it all the way to the clearing. I was too horny and climbed over the console to nibble his ear while I slid my hand up and down the growing rod in his pants.
With a loud swear, he pulled off into the trees, jammed the truck into park, and hauled me out the driver’s side door. I couldn’t help a laugh, until he turned me around and bent me over the seat, ripping my skirt up and my panties off.
At that point, I was all fire and lust and need, until he filled me to the hilt. Now he’s behind me pumping fast, sending me to heaven.
“Good girl.” His lips are at my ear, and his hands lift and knead my breasts, pulling and teasing my nipples, sending fiery sparks of pleasure racing through my core.
My eyes are squeezed shut, and I lean my head back against his shoulder, rotating my hips around his dick. His mouth closes on my neck, biting and sucking, and a flutter of spasms breaks out in my pussy. I’m so close to coming, I whimper and tremble with every slide of his cock through my wetness.
Sliding my hand down my belly, I massage my clit, and my orgasm erupts. My mind goes blank, and I see stars behind my closed eyes. His hot breath turns to low groans as Hutch draws closer, punctuating every thrust with a sound of pleasure until he breaks as well.
Large hands grip my hips, and he holds me still as his cock pulses, filling my trembling core.
We’re both panting as he leans over me, sliding my long hair away so he can kiss the back of my neck. His beard scuffing against my skin provokes another round of flutters inside me, and he groans, pulsing once more.
We are fire and energy and completion, and I know I’ll never be with anyone else ever again. It’s impossible.
Lifting my limp body off the seat, he wraps strong arms around my waist, holding me in a hug against his chest. “Little vixen. You almost made me wreck.”
“I just needed you.” Turning my face, I kiss his cheek, sliding my nose into the side of his hair, searching for his familiar man-scent I adore. “I couldn’t wait any more.”
Warm lips press to the side of my neck. “I’ll never make you wait. Let’s head back to the house.”
Several hours and several orgasms later, I’m snuggled in Hutch’s big bed with his big, warm body beside mine. My eyes open, but the room is quiet. I have no reason to be awake. It’s 4 a.m., the witching hour, and I do what I know you should never do when you can’t sleep at night. I pick up my phone.
Checking my social media for the first time in days, Natasha tagged me in pictures from the gala. Studying the faces in the background, I notice Trip beside Greg.
I use my fingers to zoom in on their faces. They’re having some conversation, and Greg’s expression is stony. Trip’s ever-present grin is missing, and I’d give anything to know what they’re discussing.
If Hutch is right, and Greg is behind the blackmail scheme, everything Trip has said to me is a lie. Anger burns in my throat when I think about how generous I’ve been with him, giving him a place to stay when his mom acted out. I want to slap his face.
Hana might put herself in bad situations, but Trip is like our brother. He should be protecting her, not taking advantage of her.
My heart beats too fast, and I know I’m not going back to sleep. Hutch is so peaceful, I don’t want to wake him. Sliding out of the bed, I quietly slip on my dress, take my shoes off the floor and tiptoe out of the room.
26
Hutch
“It moved.” Dirk’s fingers fly over his keyboard, and I’m pacing the office.
My brother’s call snapped me awake before dawn, and looking around, I saw I was alone in bed, which agitated me more. Now we’re at the office in town, and I’m waiting as he fills me in on what happened overnight.
“The transfer was made at approximately 10 a.m. GMT, five our time, to a new account number not on any of the lists.”
“Must be why it sat for so long.” My jaw is tight. “They knew we were watching it.”
“How could they have known? Did Blake let it slip?”
My mind skips back to the last time we were in New York, getting Blake out of that dive bar with Greg. “It could’ve been my fault. How long will it take to identify the account owner?”
“I'm working on it now, but if they went to this much trouble, chances are, it won’t lead anywhere helpful.”
“Let me know what you find out. I’ve got my phone.”
Starting for the door, I’m frustrated by this turn of events, and I’m confused by Blake’s absence when I opened my eyes this morning. Why would she slip out without a word? Did something happen?
I’m in my truck studying, trying to decide if I should go to Hugh’s place and check on her, or if I should give her space to come to me. Things got pretty intense last night. I all but said I was falling in love with her. Perhaps it was too much.
Scrubbing my fingers over my eyes, I think about all of it in the light of day. Blake van Hamilton, the queen of New York City society, here with me, in Hamiltown. Is that even possible? Would she seriously want to give up her life in the city to move here or was it the margaritas talking?
Serious discussions should not be had over alcohol. Still, she was smiling when we fell asleep. At no point in the evening had she seemed upset or uncomfortable or pressured.
I sound like a teenage sitcom. Tossing my phone on the passenger’s seat, I decide to let it sit for now. I’ve got more important concerns at present. The only problem is my concerns take me to Hugh’s place, where she lives now.
Fuck it. It is what it is.
“You have to go to New York if you’re going to put an end to it.” Hugh’s voice is solemn, and he sits at his desk, listening as I fill him in on what happened today.
“I don’t even know what we’re dealing with.” The truth is, after my last trip to the city, meeting with my dad, I decided I’d had my fill of New York and all the players in it.
“Gangsters.” Hugh’s voice is level. “They’re high-tech, with all the gadgets, but underneath all of it, they’re old-fashioned gangsters.”
“They are high-tech. All their shit is online, which means we can bring them down just as easily from here as we can there.”
“I disagree. The only thing men like this respond to is a strong hand. You're going to have to look these guys in the face and deal with them.”
His watery gray eyes level on mine, and I remember he’s from a different era, a time when violence was the only response to violence.
Shaking my head, I look down at my lap. “I’m not a vigilante, Hugh. If they break the law, I can have them arrested. If not–”
“If not, the monsters like Petrova continue, roaming the city, picking off one victim after the next. These boys are their protégés. They have to be stopped. Tell me you have the stomach to do what needs to be done.”
“I’m not afraid to pull the trigger if it comes to that. I’m a Marine, for God’s sake.” Frustration twists my stomach. “What you’re asking is for me to be judge, jury, and executioner. That’s not how I operate.”