Lights to My Siren (15 page)

Once he attained his objective, the two fingers slipped from my sheath, and he used the moisture that had gathered on the two appendages and worked them over my saliva slickened breasts.

It was then that I knew what he’d planned on, and I smiled seductively at him, lifting my hands and smashing my boobs together. He grinned deviously before dipping his cock back into my drenched opening, effectively lubing himself up again before pulling out and straddling my chest.

The tips of my nipples were pointed straight up at the ceiling, as I held my breasts together, waiting for him to feed his cock into the valley of my boobs.

“You ready?” He asked, easing down until his heavy testicles rested on my belly.

At my nod, he guided his cock to the opening at the bottom of my breasts, and fed his cock into the hole they made. His groan of delight sent my core clenching at its emptiness, but the look of delight on Sebastian’s face distracted me from the yawning emptiness I felt down below.

Instead, I focused on his ridged abdomen as it contracted, and the tip of his dick as it peeked out the top swells of my breasts.

Sebastian’s hands no longer needed to help guide his cock, and found my nipples, plucking them lightly.

His eyes traveled from his cock tunneling between my flesh, and up to watch how close his cock came to my mouth with each thrust.

Knowing what he wanted, I grasped each thigh with my hands, and lifted my head. I tried my best to angle my head so his cock would enter my mouth as it exited the top of my flesh; it worked out well until my neck started getting tired.

Sebastian, noticing my discomfort, placed a hand behind the back of my head, holding me in place.

My eyes traveled up until they met his. They connected, and held.

“This is everything I’ve ever fantasized. My cock filling your mouth. Jesus, all that’s missing is you coming, too. But we’ll remedy that.” He said, and punctuated that statement as he released my nipple, and buried the same two fingers he’d used on me earlier, back into my sopping core.

Pleasure bloomed slowly inside of me. Everything that was happening right now was so very erotic that it wouldn’t have mattered if he was stimulating me, I was going to detonate regardless. But with the added help of his talented fingers, it wasn’t long until my hips were rising to meet each thrust of his fingers.

He ground the heel of his hand against my clit, in between thrusts, and that was all the added stimulation I needed. My muscles clamped down hard on his burrowing fingers, and I screamed.

Sebastian’s dick happened to be buried in my mouth at the time, and that seemed to set him off.

His fingers withdrew from my core, and he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean before grabbing my head with both hands, and pumping his cock hard.

Saliva, sweat, and pre-come coated my chest, and with each further thrust of his hips, he came closer and closer. With one final plunge, his cock jerked, and short bursts of come shot out of his cock drenching my chest, breasts, nipples and chin with his juices.

“Fuck, yes.” He growled, watching his juices cover my chest.

He released my head; it fell back onto the mattress. My arms fell down to my sides, and my chest heaved in the aftermath of our lovemaking. I was utterly spent. I really could just lie here and sleep for another hour, at least. Maybe two.

Except I found my body floating and being carried into the large bathroom.

Sebastian sat me on the counter, and turned to start the large walk-in shower.

When he turned back around, his eyes became hooded and possessive as they took in my crazy sex hair, as well as our combined juices coating my body.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He said, kissing me slowly.

I returned the kiss, melting into his body, and wrapping my arms around his torso.

“You’re going to have to hold me up in that shower.” I added as he lifted me to my feet.

He smiled. “I think I can handle that.”

***

Sebastian

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Baylee asked me.

I looked at the woman in the seat next to me, and I couldn’t help the gratefulness I felt for her for coming with me. This trip tore me up every year I did it, and it never got easier. It still hurt every time I drove the three hours it took to get to that cemetery.

This year was a hell of a lot easier than it usually was. Even though I hadn’t spoken with her much on the ride, her silent presence was more than enough to stop the roiling emotions that were churning through me.

“I want to take you to a bar we used to go to while we were in boot camp. It’s got really good fried pickles.” I said, turning my grin on her.

She grimaced. Baylee didn’t like fried pickles. We’d found that out the hard way when I’d taken her to the barbeque festival last week on my one day off. She’d immediately thrown up the massive amount of food she’d consumed through our time there.

“That’s just awesome.” She said dryly.

I laughed and navigated the streets of the town I’d made my home, through my years in the Marines. Not that I’d spent much time there. It was actually a little less than a year, at most, but that was where my stuff was housed, and where I came home to when I wasn’t on a tour.

I noted the familiar car in the parking lot, denoting the one person who’d be least likely to want to see me in the entire world was currently inside, but I ignored the warning bells and walked around the side of the truck to help Baylee out.

My truck wasn’t huge compared to some in the south, but it was big for a girl that had on a pair of tight jeans that barely let you bend your legs. She said they were stretchy, but I had doubts that she wouldn’t rip a seam and cause the men of Oklahoma a heart attack when they saw her goods.

Although, just walking into the bar had every man’s eyes on her. At least the shirt she was wearing covered up her tits.

Just as I was walking in, my phone vibrated. Pulling it out of the pocket of my pants, I smiled when I saw my son’s smiling face. Yeah, I’d gotten the kid a cell phone. And yeah, he was only three, but to be honest, I was tired of giving up my phone. It was seriously getting beyond old to have my own phone covered in fucking cheese puffs and running my battery down from playing Angry fucking Birds.

“Hey boy, how ya doin’?” I asked when I connected.

My son was crying, and my heart dropped out of my chest, finding a home somewhere around my knees.

“What’s wrong?” I barked.

Hell, I got mean when I was scared. I couldn’t help it, and I’d never been able to contain it, either.

“He’s okay. He fell outside when we were out at the pool. He has a bump on his head. He wasn’t even crying until I told him we’d have to call and tell you.” Doreen said, explaining his crying to my satisfaction.

Taking a deep breath, I let it out, as well as the fear that had taken place in my heart. “Hey, boy. No more crying now. Be nice for Grandma or you’ll have to come home.”

That shut him up. He loved his Grandma and hated coming home. Most likely it was because Doreen let him drink Coca Cola’s and eat ice cream because he asked. The woman had a problem saying no. Which is why he had a fucking trampoline, a Jeep Power Wheels, and a ten-foot blow up pool in my backyard.

“Okay, daddy. I stop.” He said, not even a hint of tears evident in his voice.

Baylee gestured that she was going to get a table, and I stayed outside and caught up with my son and his activities for the past day. After ten minutes, I said goodbye, and headed inside.

My eyes took a few minutes to adjust, but when they did, I didn’t have any problem making out Baylee’s tight ass warming a bar stool, nor the three men in uniform talking to her.

Sighing, I made my way to her, staring at her ass the entire way.

The men that I passed made room for me as I crossed the wooden floor, either noticing my face that was set in stone or The Dixie Wardens MC cut that was covering my back. Either way, they moved, and I was grateful.

Baylee looked over her shoulder, saw me coming, and stood, smiling.

The ass that I’d been watching showed the faint outline of her panties, and I remembered when she’d slipped them on over her ass that morning.

The little slips of fabric were bright green with lighter green polka dots interspersed throughout the miniscule amount of fabric. At first, they looked non-threatening, but then she’d turned around, and I was treated to half her ass hanging out.

I never would’ve thought I’d be turned on by a pair of panties, but I damn sure was. When she’d come closer, digging in her bag next to mine for the tight pair of jeans, I ran my finger along the fine lace that partially covered one ass cheek.

And, even now, knowing what was under those skin tight jeans, I was hard and ready for her. Regardless of our previous night’s activities.

She left her fan club and walked into my arms when I was a little over six feet away. The glares I received over her shoulder were totally worth it when she slapped my hand away from her ass and threatened to withhold her goods from me for the rest of the weekend.

“How’s Johnny?” She asked, leading me to a table in the far back corner.

I told her what happened, and it made my heart warm to see the concern for my boy on her face.

“I hear boys are terrible about accidents. Lord knows I’ve seen enough broken arms, and noses for a lifetime.” She said, taking a seat on one side of the leather booth.

“Yeah, we’ve already had stitches twice now. The first time he cut his chin while trying to climb the chain link fence in the backyard. The second time was when he tried to jump off the dock, but didn’t jump far enough and caught his backside on the dock’s edge.” I explained.

Both of those times had absolutely freaked me the fuck out. I could deal with blood, guts, gore, fire, and dismemberment all day long with anyone that wasn’t my son. That time, though, I’d nearly passed out over a minuscule amount of blood.

The waiter arrived taking our drink orders, as well as our food orders, and we spent the minutes waiting for our drinks to arrive in a companionable silence.

Baylee’s next statement surprised me. Not that I hadn’t been expecting it, more so that I wasn’t quite sure what to tell her, even after weeks of contemplating this very scenario.

“Will you tell me about your MC?” She asked, eyeing my cut.

My hands steepled out in front of me, and I regarded her before answering.

“The Dixie Wardens MC was founded in 1970. My father entered the MC at its lowest point. There was infighting, drugs, and all kinds of illegal shit going on when I first prospected. After my father became president of the MC, he stopped the illegal shit cold turkey. The other chapters had already turned their shit around, but our chapter was the founding chapter, and the last one with founding members. Once dad took over, all of our money came through hard work, and nothing that was illegal.”

Baylee looked enraptured throughout my explanation, leaning forward more and more, listening intently as I explained.

“So you’re the VP?” She asked, pointing towards the patch under my club name.

“Yeah, not because my pop is the president either. Because I busted my balls to get where I am.” I muttered, taking a sip of my beer when the waiter set it down in front of me.

The brew was perfect. Dark, cold and bitter, just like I liked it.

“What does Shiva mean?” She asked, pointing to my name patch.

I smiled, remembering when I’d gotten the name. “My brothers, JR, Hell, and Deuce went through boot camp and then firefighter school with me. We were in the training program, and I was the only one without a nickname by the end of it. Anyway, the whole fucking unit somehow found out my middle name, and I got shit about that for the last month of the school.”

Taking another sip of beer, I continued.

“Anyway, I’m not really sure what the hell happened, but I just lost it one night, tired of catching shit from everyone. We were out at a bar on a rare night off, and a couple of Flyboys came in looking for a fight, and me being the perpetual state of annoyed, decided to give them one. Never heard another word about my middle name, and earned myself a nickname. Shiva. They said I was a God of Destruction. JR was a mythological nut, and decided I needed to be named that.”

I could see the wheels turning in her head, and I wondered how long it’d take her to ask what my middle name was.

It didn’t take long.

“What’s your middle name?” She asked about two seconds later.

I smiled. “Sue.”

“I’d heard you being called that at the party, but I honestly thought that it was a joke.” She said.

I was being 100% serious, unfortunately.

Then she blinked rapidly, and promptly burst out laughing. “Why?”

I shrugged. “My pops has a man crush on Johnny Cash.”

Baylee snickered. “Seems you do too, naming your son Johnny.” She observed.

I shrugged again. “Had to carry on the tradition and all.”

“Well isn’t this sweet. Not to interrupt or anything, but you forgot this earlier.” A spiteful voice said from the edge of out booth.

I looked up and nearly groaned. Damn, how had I missed her walking up to me? Fuck, I must be getting soft.

My hand raised just in time to catch the quarter being thrown directly at my face. “Jesus Christ, Mary. I fucking told you I’d never go. Why are you being such a fucking bitch?” I snarled.

“I know you were there. Who else comes to visit them on these days besides you? You’re the only one left. Or did you forget that part?” She snarled right back.

I raised my hand and rubbed my chest, right where my aching heart lay beneath. “I made you a promise. I didn’t visit his grave.”

I didn’t tell her that it was Baylee who’d done it for me. That would just be opening that huge can of proverbial worms.

Baylee cleared her throat, drawing both of their attentions.

Mary’s head snapped around and she glared at Baylee for interrupting. “Who’re you?”

“She’s mine.” I declared.

“Of course she is. You always liked them on the slutty side of curvy, didn’t you?” She scoffed.