Crash by Jeanne St. James

Chapter Seven

Of course,Crash would follow the woman wherever she led him. Which was right to the pavilion. The very place she was supposed to meet him earlier.

The strings of white lights hanging throughout the covered area were lit, creating enough of a subtle glow to recognize people and avoid stubbed toes, but not enough to blind anyone.

They found Cait sitting at one of the picnic tables with Asia in her arms as the baby nursed. Liz made a little noise deep in her throat when she spotted Magnum and Cait’s baby girl.

She dragged Crash right over to them. “Oh my goodness! How precious!”

Cait glanced up and smiled. “Hey, Crash.”

“Hey, baby girl. Liz, this is Cait. Her father’s an Angel and her ol’ man is Magnum, the Dark Knight’s enforcer.”

“Is he as grumpy as the other two?” Liz asked teasingly.

Cait laughed softly, brushing her fingers over Asia’s dark cloud of hair. “He can be. But if he’s on a rampage, I just hand him Asia and he turns into a puddle of goo.”

Liz laughed, too. “Don’t they all when it comes to their baby girls?”

Asia took that moment to unlatch from Cait’s tit. She tucked it away and set Asia on her lap.

“Ooooh, can I hold her, please?” Liz begged.

Cait stood and handed her the baby, who wasn’t such a baby anymore and was already learning to walk. All the kids were growing up so damn fast that it made Crash feel even older. And also that he was missing out on something everyone else had. Something he never even thought he’d want.

Liz squeaked with joy as she settled Asia in her arms and began to rub her back and coo. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” Crash said, “not sure how beasts like D and Magnum make such good-lookin’ babies.”

Cait sat back down and raised her hand to shoulder height. “Um… That’s because Jewel and I had a lot to do with it. You need to give us more credit.”

“Thank fuck for that. Otherwise, these girls would be doomed for life. Picture D and Magnum with tits, wearing a damn dress and lipstick.”

Cait laughed so hard she snorted, then laughed some more.

Crash was glad Dawg’s oldest girl was happy and had found a solid ol’ man like Magnum. While the way it went down and the age difference between Cait and Mag didn’t go over well with Dawg and the rest of the DAMC at first, once things smoothed out, their relationship helped strengthen the bond between the two clubs.

With as much time as the two MCs spent together, he wouldn’t be surprised if more hookups happened between the clubs in the future.

After a few more minutes of baby talk between Liz and Asia, she reluctantly handed the kid back to Cait. “Thank you for letting me hold her.”

“Believe me, I don’t mind. She’s getting so heavy since she’s solid like her father. Who, by the way, I need to find since he’ll want to hold her before she falls asleep. That’s his favorite daddy-daughter bonding time.” Cait secured Asia into her stroller and gathered her stuff. “It was nice meeting you, Liz.”

“Nice meeting you, too,” Liz answered.

Crash watched Cait roll the stroller away and disappear into the night. Liz grabbed his arm and pulled him to the other side of the large pavilion where it was more private. And a bit darker.

“Still pissed about the cupcake,” he muttered, thinking about all the places he could have licked the icing and cream filling off her.

“Do you want me to go and see if any are left?”

He stopped her when she turned to do just that. “Fuck no! You ain’t goin’ anywhere. Someone else might try to snag you and I ain’t riskin’ that.” Hell no, not when he finally got her alone.

“So, you can live without the sugar rush, then?” she teased.

“Sure, I can make do,” he assured her. He definitely wasn’t hungry for any damn cupcake with her standing before him. Eating the cupcake off her body just would’ve been a bonus.

She let out a little squeak when he lifted her up by her waist and set her ass on the edge of the picnic table in the darkest corner. He oh-so-fucking-slowly slid her dress up her thighs, dragging his fingers along her warm bare skin, until he could stand between them.

After dying a quick death due to the Ozzy incident, his hard-on quickly recovered and now pressed against her heat. The only thing separating them was his jeans. He could quickly fix that problem. And while he wanted to… For once, he was in no rush.

If he was at home and with a sweet butt, he’d have already been finished, had his jeans zipped closed, his feet kicked up and a cold beer in his hand. Knowing that probably happened to Liz on a regular basis with the Fury actually made him feel like a huge asshole for all the times he’d done it himself.

Because of that, he wouldn’t do the same to her, too. Yeah, he wanted to fuck her, but that wasn’t all he was interested in. Fuck no, he was interested in the woman, not the fact that she was a sweet butt.

Where they were under the pavilion, her back was turned toward the courtyard. He faced it, so he could keep an eye out for anyone approaching. He was sure she’d had sex plenty of times in front of people—he had, too—but again, he wasn’t going to do that to her unless she was really into it.

He wasn’t into putting on a show right now, especially since he wasn’t shit-faced like he normally was when he just dropped his jeans and busted a nut, not caring who watched.

So, yeah, he wanted to fuck her, but he also didn’t want her to think he was only using her. She was way more than a cum receptacle. Besides being hot as fuck, she seemed well-spoken, intelligent and had an easy and fun personality.

Which for him, seemed to be wasted on being a sweet butt. Most of the sweet butts he dealt with in his club tended to be young, catty bitches trying to dig their claws into a brother and always trying to cause drama.

Was he an asshole for thinking that way? Fuck yeah, but it was true.

Recently, Jester had almost become a father and not because he wanted to. One of their newer sweet butts had poked a hole in his wraps. The man learned a lesson that Crash’s brothers already knew: never use a wrap that had been in anyone else’s hands.

Needless to say, that bitch was no longer a sweet butt and also failed at her attempt at becoming Jester’s ol’ lady. Once she realized Jester wasn’t going to put his name on her back, things quickly went to shit and the sweet butt decided she’d rather not be a single mother. She went and took care of what suddenly became a “problem” without checking with Jester first. Jester’s journey as a daddy was cut short before it even began.

Hard lesson fucking learned for Crash’s younger club brother. But a good reminder for everyone in the club that some of the sweet butts were desperate enough to pull evil bullshit like that.

And that was what attempting to trap a man with pregnancy was: evil. D and Z had a meeting with the rest of the sweet butts, warning them that if any of them tried to do that shit again, they’d be put out immediately.

Accidents were one thing, doing it on purpose was another.

But this should be the last shit on Crash’s mind with the woman before him. She didn’t seem the type of woman to be conniving. He figured she could’ve easily convinced Ozzy to claim her at the table if she wanted him to. All without tricks.

While she was upset with whatever happened between her and the Fury member, she didn’t seem heartbroken about it. Not because she seemed to be a cold bitch, but because the connection between the two—the kind of connection that they all saw earlier today with Trip and Stella—must not be at that level.

And, yeah, if someone was going to be tied down, it needed to be with another person who’d be the perfect fit. They’d be less likely to kill each other before they could die of old age. That was one reason Crash had never had the urge to fill the spot on the back of his sled. Whoever sat back there had to mesh with his life and his personality. So far, no one had.

“Where you from?” He ran his fingers of both hands back and forth along her outer thighs from her knees to her ass, appreciating every inch of the smooth skin.

Her head tilted to the side and a smile curved the lips he wanted to taste. “Are you trying to get to know me before you fuck me? You don’t have to, you know.”

“Know I don’t have to. Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna.” Slipping his hands under the gathered fabric and cupping both ass cheeks, he gently kneaded the flesh there. “So, gonna ask you again, where you from?” His dick wasn’t only throbbing in anticipation, his voice had gotten a bit gruffer.

“Here. Well, the next town over.” Hers had gotten a bit huskier, too, as he continued exploring the skin he could reach without removing her dress.

“Yeah?” He dipped his finger into the crease of her ass but didn’t take it any further than that quick tease.

“I’ve… uh,” a soft sigh slipped from her as he continued his journey, “lived around here my whole life.”

“Never left, huh?”

“Four years of college in Virginia. I’ve traveled, too. In an actual plane, by the way, not just on the back of a bike.”

His fingers paused on their path to reach the skin on her upper back. “You ride on the back of his sled?”

“Not on club runs, no. Sweet butts aren’t allowed to be backpacks for those. But usually when he’d get restless and need to go for a long ride. I think taking me along forced him to turn around and return. Otherwise, sometimes I think he would’ve just kept riding and never come back at all.”

“Nomad at heart.”

Liz nodded. “Yes.”

He traced the line of her spine and tucked his hand under her hair and curved it around the back of her neck. “Maybe why he never claimed you.”

“I never wanted him to claim me. Even if he had asked, I would’ve told him no. I love him but I’m not in love with him.”

He stilled his movements again and considered her words for a moment. “In our club becomin’ an ol’ lady’s the same as becomin’ a wife. Means the same, the only thing different is the legality of it.”

“It’s the same here.”

“So, you got no desire to be an ol’ lady at all?”

“I didn’t say that. It would depend. Whoever I spend the rest of my life with, whoever becomes my life partner, whether it’s an ol’ man or a husband or even a wife, I want to be deeply in love first. Like my mother is with my stepfather. I want a love like they have.”

“But she wasn’t like that with your father?”

Liz’s mouth opened, then slowly shut.

Maybe her real father was a sticky subject with her. He decided to move on. “How’d you end up a sweet butt?”

“More out of curiosity than anything. I showed up one night for a party and basically never left. I loved the sexual freedom of it. The guys aren’t abusive and all have their own personality. Some better than others. And basically, when it comes down to it, I love sex.” She shrugged. “And, no surprise, so do they, so it works out for all of us. I get what I need when they get what they need, too. I saw it as a win-win situation.”

Nothing like a woman who embraced her sexuality and wasn’t embarrassed about it or worried about what anyone else thought. “You into women, too.”

“I am.” She laughed softly. “I don’t discriminate on who I give or receive orgasms from. I find women a turn-on, but if I had to choose one or the other, I’d lean toward men. But luckily, I haven’t had to choose. To me, men are like the ice cream sundae and women are the cherry on the top. I find a woman’s body beautiful and we seem to have a lot less sexual hang-ups than men, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Seen it a lot. Women will have sex with other women even if they ain’t bi or gay. While men… We really gotta be into it for us to fuck or suck another dude.”

She grinned. “I guess you’re not one of those men.”

He shook his head. “Fuck no. Ain’t into dick. Never even been curious. Love the smell and softness of a woman. To me, a turned-on woman is the best fuckin’ scent on Earth.”

“Can you tell how aroused I am right now just by smell?”

“Fuck yeah. Wanna stick my nose there and inhale that scent like a good hit of bud. Wanna taste it on my tongue, too.” He wanted the whole fucking experience. Taste, smell, sight, touch…

“I’m not sure why you’re waiting, then.”

“Ain’t in a rush. Waitin’ to get what I want’s just gonna make it sweeter when I get it.” He was also afraid that once he got it, he’d only want more. Like those damn crack cupcakes.

“By you waiting, you’re also making me wait.”

“Am I that irresistible?” he teased. “Look, I’m just a man. One who the DAMC sisterhood calls a clown, just to warn you.”

“Clowns are scary and you don’t look scary.”

“What do I look like? A pussy?”

She laughed, making her tits jiggle against the silky fabric of her dress. He wanted to unwrap her like a present and expose every inch of her.

She squeezed his bicep. “No, definitely not a pussy.” She slid her other hand down the short whiskers on his jaw but didn’t poke at his cleft, thank fuck. “Are you growing out your beard or is it always this short?”

“Usually my hair and my beard are a shitload longer, but lost a bet I wasn’t expectin’ to lose.”

“You cut off your hair for a bet?”

He snorted. “Yeah, fuckin’ stupid, right? Had a bet with Rig who’s got a mess on his face and long hair, too. Expected it to be him to have to shave.”

“But you ended up being the loser.”

“Yeah.”

“What was the bet about?”

He shook his head. “Somethin’ stupid. We were drunk and bein’ dicks.”

“It had to do with a woman, then,” she concluded.

“Yeah. I lost. He won.”

“He won the girl.”

“Not sure I’d consider it a win, but yeah.”

“Did she turn out not as expected?”

Crash shrugged. “Dunno since I was the loser. But don’t matter since I didn’t know what a real win was ’til…”

“Until?”

“Now.”

She planted her hand on his gut and clutched his T-shirt. “Did I say bikers were bad at flirting? I might have to reconsider that.”

“Wasn’t flirting. It’s the truth.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“But I wanna.” He stared down into her face. “If you’ll let me.”

He gripped her hips and pulled her into him. With a dip of his head, he kissed her long and slow, finally getting to savor the taste of her lips. He took his time exploring every corner of her mouth. One hand curled around the back of his neck, her other grabbed his ass, trying to pull him even closer. He was tempted to thrust against her soft heat, but didn’t want the rough denim of his jeans to hurt her delicate flesh.

He reluctantly broke off the kiss because if he continued to kiss her like that, things would accelerate to warp speed. Since he wasn’t sure how much more of an opportunity he’d get to spend with her, he wanted to take his time and that meant taking things slower than he normally did.

It could be that after tonight he’d never see her again, so he wanted to delay as long as possible.

She must have been thinking the same since she asked, “When do you head home?” a bit breathlessly.

“Monday mornin’.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough time for us to get to know each other that well.”

He liked that she didn’t hide her disappointment.

“We could start now,” he suggested.

“You’re a very determined man.”

“When I see somethin’ I want, I go after it.”

“Not sure why you want me.”

A lot of women would say that only to fish for compliments. He had a feeling that wasn’t why she did. Most likely it was because she was a sweet butt and he actually wanted to do more than just fuck her. Some guys, like him, treated sweet butts no more than a cum dumpster.

“Have you looked in the mirror?”

She smiled. “Yes, today after I got dressed.”

“Then you see what I’m seein’.”

“You know what I mean.”

He did, so he needed to clear shit up. It wasn’t only about looks or sex. “What you didn’t see was what I saw earlier. The way you interact with other people. The way you smile. The way you fuckin’ move. Bein’ smokin’ hot is only skin deep. Can tell just by watchin’ you that you’re way fuckin’ more than that.”

The corners of her lips curled up. “Yes, I’m definitely wrong about how bikers flirt.”

“‘Cause most of us don’t gotta flirt. We always got women willin’ to do whatever we’re into.”

“Ah. Now you’re getting cocky.”

“Not bein’ cocky. It’s true. You know that from bein’ a part of the Fury. Anybody in your club have a hard time gettin’ laid? Or gettin’ a woman to do the shit they’re into, no matter what it is? And I ain’t talkin’ sweet butts.”

“No.”

He tipped his head in response.

“I guess that goes for you, too.”

“When I was in my twenties and thirties, my only concern was when I was gettin’ laid next. Didn’t care with who. Or where. Hell, gonna admit it, half the time didn’t give a fuck if whoever I was with even came.”

“And now?”

“Ready to slow down and appreciate women more than I did in the past. Hopefully make up for my mistakes.”

“Just not with the women you made them with.”

“That would be impossible. So, just gotta do better in the future.”

“Like now.”

“Yeah, like now.” He ran his nose along hers and whispered, “Come back to my room.”

Her warm, whiskey-scented breath swept over his lips. “I don’t think that’s smart. Not unless you moved motels.”

Christ. That was right.

That fucking Ozzy was going to continue to cock-block Crash even when the man wasn’t aware he was doing it.

Fucking motherfucker.

“What’s wrong with right here?”

He pulled back slightly. “Ain’t worried about your man seein’ you?”

He grimaced when a pained look crossed her face. He instantly regretted his choice of words. Now he was cock-blocking himself. Fuckin’ dumbass.

“He’s not my man.”

Yeah, but he acts like it. He kept that to himself since it wasn’t anything she didn’t know so it didn’t need repeating. He was supposed to be taking her mind off Ozzy, not bringing him back into the mix.

He corrected his mistake. “Don’t mind the risk of bein’ seen?”

She shook her head. “Do you?”

“Fuck no. Especially with a woman like you.”

“Oh yes. I’m so wrong about how bikers flirt. And, like I said, you don’t need to work so hard.”

“Ain’t workin’ you, baby. Tellin’ you the truth. Swear it.”

“The truth is that I don’t mind if people watch. And if you don’t, either, then we’re good right here.”

The table wasn’t ideal, but if she was good with it, then he would be, too. At least for the first time…

Even so, he worried about being ambushed when his jeans were down around his fucking ankles. He would need to keep his eyes open and stay vigilant. Ozzy’s VP and sergeant at arms might have had a sit-down with the man, but he was trashed so that didn’t mean he’d heed their warning.

He cupped her face, sliding his fingers into her hair, and dropped his head again to take her mouth.

Fuck yeah, she tasted like a combo of whiskey and woman, and he was getting impatient to put his mouth elsewhere. Keeping their lips and tongues connected, he slipped a hand between them, sliding it down the bulge in his jeans before finding her mound.

He groaned into her mouth when he found her shaved bare, the skin hot, smooth and slick.

His balls pulled tight as he thumbed her clit and slipped two fingers easily inside her. “Fuck, baby, you always get this wet?” he asked against her lips.

“In general? No,” she breathed. “But usually I’m not waiting this long to get what I want.”

“Takin’ it too slow for you?” he asked, surprised.

“I’m not the one who’s usually in a rush.”

“You like it slow, then.”

“I like it slow. I like it fast. I just like it.”

He grinned against her lips. “Me fuckin’, too.”

He took her mouth again, sliding his two fingers in and out of her, amazed at how wet she got. He could not only feel it, he could hear it as he fucked her like that, playing with her clit at the same time.

She groaned into his mouth, wrapping one hand around the back of his head to keep him there. Her other hand worked its way under his T-shirt and her nails scraped along the skin of his stomach.

She began to unbuckle his belt but he stopped her quickly by grabbing her wrist. “Not yet. This time’s for you.”

He had a feeling she didn’t hear that very often, if at all.

Her hand slipped back under his shirt and her fingers spread wide along his heated skin. He went back to finger-fucking her, but instead of taking her mouth again, he slid his tongue along her throat. She dropped her head back giving him the access he needed, then her hand pushed his head lower.

He slipped one spaghetti strap down over her shoulder until one tit was free. She wore no bra, just like she wore no panties. Which most likely meant the Blood Fury boys liked easy access to their sweet butts. Pull up a skirt, bend them over, bust a nut and get on with the rest of their night.

He’d done it too many times himself.

The more he worked her with his fingers, the wetter she became and the louder, too.

“That’s it. Come for me, baby,” he whispered in her ear. “Show me how much you want me… want this.”

“I do…” she breathed. Her hips jerked as she rode his fingers, grinding against them.

He’d been with women who squirted before, but not like Liz. His fingers, his hands were soaked, her inner thighs turning into a Slip ’N Slide.

She yanked his head up until she captured his mouth and he captured her cries as her inner muscles clenched and unclenched around his fingers. Her hips shot up off the table one last time before she sighed and he captured that, too.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her, to taste her juices.

He yanked her around until her ass was on the edge of the table on the long side instead of the end. Once he climbed in between the bench and the table and took a seat, he ordered, “Feet on my shoulders.”

She quickly complied and when she did, he dove in face first. Licking along her damp skin, sucking on her slick, plump folds, flicking her clit and then, after spreading her thighs even wider, he buried himself there.

Fucking Nirvana. She tasted as good as she looked and, just like he feared, he couldn’t get enough of her.

He ran his tongue up her slick slit and back down all the way to her asshole, rimming it once… then once more, hearing her whimpers. He pinned her jumping hips to the table when she squirmed as he licked her clean and took his time sucking each fold into his mouth, making her cry out again.

When he settled his mouth on her clit, he sucked even harder.

Using his middle finger, he gathered her arousal and then pressed the tip against her anus. When it relaxed and opened for him, he buried it to the last knuckle. Then he got serious about making her come a second time.

With his hair so short, she couldn’t get a good grip, but her nails dug into his scalp as she ground her pussy against his face, encouraging him with words and movement to lick and suck faster. To bring her to that second orgasm.

“Want you inside me,” she moaned.

“Soon,” he murmured against her heated skin.

“Now.”

He ignored her demand. His own patience was already about to snap as it was, since he was more than ready to be inside her, too. His dick was throbbing painfully, the pressure in his groin almost unbearable and he felt like he’d shatter if he didn’t get his own release soon.

But he carried on with his plan of making her come with his fingers and then his mouth before using his dick.

He drove his middle finger in and out of her ass and scraped his teeth over her clit, her hips surging up once again. He clamped an arm over her hips to hold her down, thrust his finger in and out of her even faster and when he knew she was at that very edge by her encouraging words, he bit down gently into the soft flesh surrounding her clit and flicked the swollen nub with the tip of his tongue. Spasms began to radiate around his middle finger.

“Oooh… God!” she cried out, her body twitching, her nails digging even deeper into his scalp as she came for the second time. Her chest was pumping like she ran a mile. So was his.

He held his mouth there for a few more seconds until the waves of her climax subsided. Then running his tongue down through her folds one more time, he gathered the sweet honey that had escaped her.

His dick was now so fucking hard he thought it might split in two. In fact, he was so goddamn hard, he was afraid as soon as he drove his dick into her, he’d come.

He needed to take a few breaths, cool his jets and gather his wits. Because if he blew his load within seconds, he would never forgive himself.

He stood quickly and took in the sight before him. Liz was lying back on the table with one tit exposed, her dress gathered around her waist and her eyelids heavy as she stared back at him. He quickly leaned over, scraped his teeth over the hard nub of her nipple and then yanked out his wallet. After pulling out a wrap, he tossed it on the table, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans and pushed them to his knees before turning and sitting on the bench again, this time facing away from the table and Liz.

“C’mere.” He had a hard time even getting out that much. He was struggling to keep his thoughts together because the only thing he wanted to do was to drive himself deep inside her.

While she was climbing off the table, he tore open the wrapper, rolled on the latex and waited for her to appear before him.

Like a goddamn mirage.

“Show me your tits,” he demanded.

Standing just beyond his knees, she slowly slipped the other strap from her dress off her shoulder until both were revealed.

“C’mere,” he murmured again, grabbing her hips and pulling her to him until she was sandwiched between his thighs.

He slipped a hand under her dress, which had now fallen back in place, found where she was soaked and dipped his finger inside her again. He gathered some of her wetness and then rubbed it around her hard nipple. Clamping his mouth on it, he sucked hard while tweaking the other between his fingers.

Her back arched and, once again, her hand gripped the back of his head, holding him there, encouraging him to continue.

His dick now had its own heartbeat, but taking the time to worship her perfect fucking tits was the well-needed cooling down period he needed.

But he was done waiting. So fucking done.

He turned her away from him, slowly slid the silky fabric back up her thighs and encouraged her to sit on his lap. He groaned when she reached back and grabbed his dick, holding it steady while she slowly lowered herself.

He held his breath as she slid the crown back and forth through her hot folds a few times, then paused.

The breath shot from him as she sank down and buried him deep inside her.

Thank fuck she sat there for a second, allowing his brain to stop spinning.

He released the fabric of her dress and it fell around their laps like a curtain. He had better things to do with his hands than hold it out of the way. Like grip one of those luscious fucking tits.

Her cunt was like a hot fist, squeezing and releasing, as she rose and fell. After pushing her hair off her back and pressing his lips there, he reached around and tweaked her clit.

She began to ride him faster, her back bowing and pressing her tit even deeper into his hand. He squeezed it hard enough to make her gasp. Every time she lowered herself to the point he was driven as deep as he could go, she’d grind herself on his lap, rolling her hips and almost make him lose his fucking shit.

He was getting close to blowing and he didn’t want to do that before she came a third time. He had a goal and he was fucking sticking to it.

“Tell me what you need,” he groaned against her shoulder, his tongue tasting the slight saltiness of her soft skin.

She was fucking delicious. Better than any fucking cupcake. Her pussy, her tits, her mouth. All of it. The best meal he’d ever eaten.

“Twist as hard as you can.”

Her husky command shot even more blood down to his already hard as fuck dick. But since he had one hand on her tit and one on her clit, he wasn’t sure which one she meant. He didn’t bother to ask, either. Instead, he got a good grip on both and, at the same time, he twisted them, causing her to almost shoot off his lap.

Her nails now dug into his thighs, using his own legs as a brace so she could rock back and forth until he was balls deep. Until there was nowhere left for him to go.

A low whimper escaped her when he pinched her other nipple and her clit again.

“Yes,” she hissed, throwing her head back far enough it made contact with his shoulder.

He drew his tongue up the side of her neck, released her clit and touched them where they were connected, where he was pumping in and out of her. Or more like she was riding him since he hardly had to move a muscle. “Can’t get a more perfect fit than that.”

She was made for him. He knew it the second he saw her yesterday. Something about her had caught his attention and wouldn’t let him go.

It didn’t matter that she was a sweet butt. It didn’t even fucking matter he saw her fucking another man this morning.

None of it did.

Normally, a sweet butt wouldn’t even catch his attention for more than the time it took to have sex with her. Once he was done, he was done with her, too. He moved on until the next time.

“Want you to come with me,” she groaned, driving herself down on his cock over and over.

So did he. All he needed was for her to say the word and he’d stop fighting the good fight. He was already hanging on by a quickly unraveling thread, anyway.

He tugged at her nipple, not as roughly this time, and did the “wax on, wax off” trick with his thumb on her clit.

“Oh God, yes,” she cried out.

He had lost track of everything else going on around them. They could have an audience and he wouldn’t even know it. He also wouldn’t care.

He was too busy with the woman in his lap, with the woman riding his cock. With the woman soaking his fucking balls so much so that her arousal was beginning to drip off his sac.

So goddamn wet.

He hated wraps. He fucking hated them right now. He wanted to feel that slickness against his dick instead of his own cum getting stuck between the fucking latex and his skin.

But he never went without one. So why now? Why did he have that urge with another club’s sweet butt?

At his age, he should be long past being stupid.

Sometimes he still stumbled over the stupid stick. But not right now. Not with this.

Unfortunately.

She slammed down on him one more time and smoothly rolled her hips like a belly dancer. Her hand grabbed his over her tit and she squeezed them both.

Her back arched, her mouth gaped open and her blonde hair spilled over his shoulder and chest as she released a long, low wail that Crash wasn’t sure if it could be heard over the band playing.

Then he felt it. Everything on her tightened and her pussy clamped around his dick.

“I’m… coming…”

No shit.

So was he.

He drove up and into her with a grunt as he came at the same time she did.

After a few moments, when they both came down from their high, the only sound that could be heard, besides the distant noise of the music and the partying crowd, was their breathing. Ragged and quick.

Eventually, their muscles loosened, their bodies relaxed and Crash hooked an arm around her waist to keep her there.

To keep her connected.

“Don’t move,” he murmured against her bare shoulder.

“We can’t stay like this forever,” she said softly, reaching back and wrapping a hand around the back of his head.

He just needed a few more seconds. Unfortunately, those seconds ended too quickly. He grabbed the wrap at his root when she shifted off him, then carefully removed and knotted it before getting up and tossing it in a nearby garbage barrel. He snagged a roll of paper towels that were placed on each picnic table and cleaned himself up while she did the same.

He tucked his dick away and secured his jeans and belt, hoping like fuck she didn’t think the night was over. To him, it was only just beginning.

However, they needed to find a better place to get to know each other than a fucking wood picnic table under a pavilion in the middle of a wedding reception.