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"Fuck, yes," I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders.
We moved together, crashing into the wall, the loud club masking our grunts and moans. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through me, the risk of being caught adding to the thrill. His mouth found mine again, our kisses messy and desperate, tongues tangling as we fucked like animals.
"Harder," I demanded, my voice rough.
He obliged, his movements becoming more frenzied, more brutal. He was hitting all the right spots, driving me closer to the edge.
"Boiler," I gasped, my head falling back against the wall. "I'm gonna—"
"Do it," he growled. "Come for me, Tank. Let 'em hear you."
His words sent me over the edge. I hollered out not caring who heard.
Boiler pulled back slightly, a satisfied grin on his face. "Think they heard us?"
"Fuck 'em if they did," I replied, still breathless. "Let 'em know what a real fuck sounds like."
He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made me smile. We quickly redressed, the adrenaline still coursing through our veins. As we headed towards the main area of the club, I couldn't help but feel a thrill of satisfaction. We might be playing with fire, but damn if it didn't feel good to burn.
Boiler pulled me close, his arm slung around my shoulders. "You're one hell of a woman, Tank."
"And don't you forget it," I replied, leaning into him.
The night went on, the club buzzing with life, but all I could think about was the next time we'd steal away, the next time we'd lose ourselves in each other. Because with Boiler, every moment was electric, every touch a spark. And I was more than ready to keep playing with fire.
Chapter 17
Boiler
The nights after that were filled with more of the same—intense passion, wild need, and a connection that seemed to grow stronger with every passing day. We explored each other in every way possible, finding new ways to drive each other wild, to push each other to the brink and back again.
It was more than just sex. It was a release, a way to connect on a level that neither of us had experienced before. Each caress, each kiss was a vow, an affirmation of something beyond mere physical allure. It was raw, it was passionate, and it was everything I had ever wanted.
Our inability to keep our hands off each other was a damn addiction, extending beyond the privacy of our nights together. Public places became our playground. One evening, we were out at a bar with some of my brothers. The place was packed, the music loud, and the atmosphere electric. A place with contagious energy.
Tank and I were sitting at a corner table, trying to keep a low profile. But the heat between us was about to set the whole fucking place ablaze. Her eyes met mine, and I could see the fire burning there. I could practically feel her need mirroring my own.
"Boiler," she whispered, leaning in closer, her voice thick with desire. "We can’t keep doing this."
I smirked, my hand sliding up her thigh under the table, feeling the heat of her skin. "Like hell we can’t."
Her breath hitched, her eyes darkening as I moved my hand higher. The noise and chaos around us faded, and all I could think about was having her, right there and then.
We didn’t last long at the table. The urgency between us was too much. We exchanged looks and snuck out the back into the alley. As soon as we were out of sight, I pulled her into my arms, kissing her deeply. She responded with equal passion, her hands tugging at my shirt, desperate to feel my skin.
“Boiler, someone might see us,” she babbled against my lips, her breath coming in hot pants.
“I don’t give a shit,” I replied, my voice rough with yearning. “I need you now.”
We didn’t waste any time. My hands roamed her body, pulling up her shirt, exposing the smooth, warm skin beneath. She moaned into my mouth, her hands just as eager, yanking at my belt, unbuttoning my jeans. The desperation between us was raw, animalistic.
I spun her around, pressing her against the dirty brick wall. The rough surface contrasted with the softness of her body. Moving her hair, I kissed down her neck, biting and sucking. My hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips, pulling her back against me. I got my hand under her skirt.
“God, Tank,” I groaned, feeling her heat through the thin fabric of her panties. “You drive me fucking insane.”
“Then do something about it,” she challenged, her voice breathless, full of need.
I didn’t need any more encouragement. I yanked down her panties, feeling her wetness. She gasped as I slid a finger inside her, her body arching back, pressing harder against me.
