“No,” he groaned.

I lifted my mouth away and peered up at him.

“Your mouth feels too good.” He pushed his pants to the floor, making sure to grab a condom from his pocket. I scooted into the center of the bed and leaned back against the pillows. Cole knelt next to me, watching me with a hunger that made my pussy ache with wanting him. He slid my panties down and off my ankles. Then he knelt between my legs, pushing my thighs wider with his hands. His gaze lingered on my pussy before lifting his eyes to my face.

His expression was silently asking me if I was sure about this. “Cole, I want this.”  A nervous laugh crumbled from my lips. “Heck, I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted it this badly. So—” I pointed up at him. “No pressure, but don’t disappoint me.”

A crooked smile tilted his mouth as he leaned down over me. “You’re lucky that I work well under pressure.” He pressed his hand against my face, and the tender gesture only increased my need for him to be inside of me.

I spread my legs wider. He kissed me deeply as he reached down and slid his thick callused fingers through the slick folds of my pussy.

“God, baby”—His voice was deep and gritty—“you feel like hot, wet silk. I knew you’d feel like this, like fucking heaven.” As he slid his fingers inside of me I rocked against the pressure of his hand, rubbing my taut clit against it with each movement.

I clutched at his arms realizing that I’d been so ready, I was on the teetering edge of an orgasm with just his fingers inside of me. He sensed how close I was too.

“That’s it, sweetie, I want to feel your pussy tighten around my hand.” He moved his fingers deeper, making sure to keep contact with my clit. I tightened my bottom and pushed my hips higher to take in more of his hand. He lifted his head and stared down at me, waiting for me to roll off the cliff into ecstasy.

“Oh, Cole,” I cried out. My thighs tightened around his hand as my pussy dissolved into shuddering waves of pleasure.

My body still trembled as he slid his hand beneath my ass, lifting my pussy higher. He leaned down and kissed me as he slid his cock inside of me. He moved deep and forward hitting a remote spot inside of me that made my pussy once against explode with a second orgasm. I clutched his strong arms as he thrust inside of me. All the while, my entire body trembled.

I wrapped my legs around him, and he drove hard against me, my pussy tender and aching from multiple orgasms. I shuddered with the urgent, intense feel of him filling me hard and fast.

His muscular body tightened, and his head dropped back with a low groan as he came. He lowered himself down next to me and pulled me against him. We sat in silence as our ragged breathing slowed to normal. I pressed my face against his chest, already growing fond of his soapy scent.

“So? Any disappointment?” he asked cockily, knowing damn well that he’d brought me to orgasm twice.

I sighed. “Well, I’m used to three or four, but two in a row will do.”

A deep chuckle rolled up from his throat. “Three or four? Hell, I’m going to have to hone my skills then.” He reached down and tilted up my chin to face him. “In case it isn’t obvious, Kensington, I’m having a really great time.”

I lifted my mouth to his and kissed him. “Me too.” I had every intention of keeping my head about me with this new relationship, but Cole King was going to make that difficult.

Chapter 14

Cole

Denver put a hand on my shoulder. “Remember, keep your momentum going at the same speed as the bike but if somehow it gets away from you, try not to land on it. Or worse, let it land on you.”

“Really? That’s your pro advice?” I shot him an annoyed look. “Shit, you’re as fucking helpful as an umbrella in a windstorm. And this little fatherly talk is only going to shred my confidence and enthusiasm, so go sit on the wall and watch.”

I’d mastered a few of the easier, less dramatic freestyle tricks, including the Superman, a trick that Denver could probably do in his sleep, but then I hadn’t been at it long. Once Denver and Rodeo had talked me into putting up a metal jump ramp and foam pit for their practice sessions, I couldn’t resist shooting my bike off the lip and trying some of the tricks. Denver had helped me modify a race bike for jumping. Recently, I’d moved on from the security of the foam pit to landing on a resi mat. But after a few falls on the mat, I’d come to the painful conclusion that gel material might work in shoes, but it doesn’t absorb the impact of a fall from the sky. Today, I was practicing a trick that, so far, I’d had luck with, some bad, some good. Letting go of the handlebars for a seat grab to extend my superman kick was like losing the training wheels off your first bike. It meant temporarily letting go of the bike and relying on the science of physics to keep both man and machine synchronized. And, I was never big on science. In fact, I vaguely remembered failing physics altogether.

I pulled on my helmet and goggles and kick-started the bike. My mind had been all over the place this week because of Kensington. It seemed, when I’d least expected it, I’d met a girl who I thought about morning, noon and night. Denver knew about my dates with Kensington, but I hadn’t said anything to Rodeo yet. He’d been walking around smiling and dreaming about the Corvette, which I planned to just give him. Rodeo could be a pain in the ass, but he’d been a loyal friend. I didn’t have the extra cash or time to do anything with the car. And the bet was the farthest thing from my mind now.

The bike vibrated beneath me as I twisted the throttle and placed my boots on the pegs. I rode in the opposite direction of the ramp. I needed enough momentum for the jump and enough time to psych myself up for it. I found, in jumping, that if I thought too long about it, the trick ended badly. On the other hand, if I didn’t spend enough time thinking about it, I ended up bailing before I could finish the trick. It had to be just the right amount of speed and thinking time to make it a success. The foam pit had been great at boosting confidence, but there were a lot of things that could turn ugly with only a soft mat on the other end.

From the corner of my goggles I saw Rodeo and Denver sitting on the wall, waiting to tell me everything I did wrong or pick up the pieces if things went really wrong. The metal ramp clanked as my front wheel hit it. I shot up and off the lip. I took my feet off the pegs as the bike arced high in the air. That crazy sensation of flying whipped through my gut, and I took my right hand off the handlebars and reached beneath my body for the seat. My left hand followed. I held the seat for just a brief flash of time as I felt the bike head back down toward earth. I pulled my body forward through the air and grabbed the handlebars a few seconds before my bike tires hit the dirt landing. I’d landed upright on the bike but had gotten there a little late. The handlebars wobbled, and I lost control. I turned sharply off the mat and laid the bike down. All in all, a good ride, and I’d only added a few scrapes and bruises to my body and the motorcycle.

Denver walked over and picked up the bike while I dusted myself off. I dropped my goggles around my neck. He had to talk loudly for me to hear through the helmet. “Form was good. Now work on more air and smoother transition back to the handlebars. Not enough space between you and the ground before you got your ass back on the seat.”

I nodded and took the bike from him. I rode back to the start and circled around. It was nearly dusk, and the late day sun glinted off the metal ramp. After a long work week, my body was suffering what I liked to call the Thursday night energy drain. Neither circumstance was good for practicing my jump, but I was determined to stick the landing once before calling it a night.