Page 28 of Smoke

“And you’re mine… even if it means I have to burn in hell with you, Hawk. I’ll do it for this,” I declare as my orgasm claims me.

He drives in harder, and as I burst all over him, his cum shoots back in response. We scratch and tug at each other’s flesh as we chase it, riding every last drop of our climax. Until every one of our crevices is spilling with either cum, tears, or sweat.

Our arms and legs shake as we hold each other, his cock still throbbing inside me. He squeezes my throat and tilts my chin up to his. “He’s gonna know. Preacher… He’s gonna take one look at us and know.”

Hawk never could bring himself to call him daddy. He was almost a teenager when his momma married him. He was old enough to remember his real daddy. Father Eli was too formal. So he called him Preacher to be a smart ass. And it stuck.

I smooth my thumb over his brow. “I don’t care who knows. I never have. So long as I have you. That’s all I give a shit about.”

“Then you’re gonna do what I say from here on out now, Cherry. I know what’s best and I’m gonna take care of you like always.” He shifts his hips, digging them into mine, and his beautiful cock is hard again.

The joy I feel is like a high better than any drug I’ve ever smoked or snorted. “Okay. Whatever you say. Just please don’t stop.”

As he starts to gently thrust again, he kisses my forehead, then each of my cheeks. “You’re staying here until I kill him. You can fuck Scarrow. And Omen if he’ll let you. But you’re staying here and you’re not going anywhere without one of us.”

I want to argue but the feel of his cock swelling inside me as he blows my fucking back out is too good. If I had known fucking him would feel like this, I would have begged him harder before. I would’ve gotten down on my knees and prayed for his release.

So I keep my mouth shut for now, and let him make me cum so hard I can barely breathe or see straight.

“So you two never fucked before? Seriously?” The ride to the bar this morning has been quiet. Really fucking quiet for her. She’s too busy basking in post-coital glow to yammer on like usual.

She shakes her head, a lazy grin on her face. “We never even kissed until last night. He never let himself go there.”

Am I jealous? Slightly. I would’ve liked to have watched or been asked to join. “That’s wild. All those years living under the same roof, down the hall from each other… I would’ve fucked you every chance I got.”

She blushes but not in a demure way. Her cheeks and chest flush with carnal fucking lust. Like she’s Lilith in the flesh. “Well, now you can, Scar.”

I wedge my hand between her thighs, feeling this new sense of possessiveness over her. A feeling of ownership. “You pushed him too far with this Kane shit. He’s not all aglow like you are today, Cherry. Be easy with him later.”

Her grin fades and her eyes harden. She shoves my hand away. “You don’t know him like I do. You don’t know anything about us.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” I grip the wheel and glare at the road ahead while she continues to give me the silent treatment for the rest of the ride.

Fuck. I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like for them, both growing up without their moms. Forced to live together when they were just strangers to each other. Then forbidden to follow their feelings because they were thrust into this weird family dynamic that didn’t really exist. And all under the roof of her daddy, the preacher, to really rub salt and holy water into the wound.

I know how those men are. All self-righteous and indignant of right and wrong. When all he was doing was pushing them closer together. In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit as Omen would say. But these folks out here don’t pray that way. They warn against impure thoughts while dangling lust like it’s a carrot on a string in a burrow full of hungry rabbits.

Thank fuck, I’m an atheist. I don’t have any guilt keeping me up at night. Not the religious kind anyway. All my sins are the fun kind.

I pull into the parking lot of Level Up and take the spot in front with Cherry’s name on it. She’s out of my truck, slamming the door shut before I’ve even killed the engine. Fuck, it’s going to be a long day.

I jog after her. “Hold up. I need to check inside and make sure that creep isn’t lurking in here.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Kane isn’t stupid enough to break into my bar. I grew up with him. He’s a pervert, and a bit rough in the bedroom, but he wouldn’t hurt me for real.”

I follow her inside, my blood boiling at the thought of some other dude touching her. I’ve been dreaming about Cherry Bradley for eight years. Ever since that night I saw her covered in the blood of her attackers.

My cock grew so big and hard for her, I haven’t been able to fully enjoy sex with anyone else since. I need to get inside her tight little pussy before I explode soon.

I motion for her to wait by the bar while I do a quick perimeter check. I check the upstairs apartment first, then the back storage room, and finally the tiny kitchen that barely fits her grill and fryer. How the fuck does she turn out so many burgers and fries in this tight little space?

She’s setting up the square-shaped bar when I return, moving and gliding around it like a lethal ballerina. The bar’s positioned in the middle of the arcade so it gives her a clear view of the entire space no matter what angle she’s looking out from. It’s pretty fucking genius.

I come up behind her and spin her around. She backs up into a row of bottles, cursing as I throw her off balance. “What the fuck, Scar?”

“You said Kane was rough in the bedroom. What did you mean by that?” I haven’t let that shit go for one second.

Her eyes dart to the floor. She tucks a strand of purple hair behind her ears and lets out a sigh. The entire act makes her look like a teenager. Like a scared little girl trapped inside the body of a stunning tattooed goddess. With a mouth like a siren and a truck driver’s all in one.