Page 16 of Cash’s Trouble

He stands with me wrapped around him and carries me to the bed. Instead of lowering me onto my back, Cash turns me and bends me over the mattress. One palm presses between my shoulder blades while he drags his cock through my wetness from behind.

I look back at him. “You going to make me ask?”

“No. I’m going to make you tell me how you want it.”

“Hard.” I push back against him. “And don’t make me ask twice.”

His grin is dark and delighted. “There she is.”

Cash drives inside me in one powerful stroke. The angle pulls a cry from my throat, and he answers with a low groan before withdrawing almost completely and filling me again. His hands grip my hips, holding me exactly where he wants me as the rhythm builds. This is nothing like the first time. There’s no uncertainty, no need to discover whether fantasy survives contact. I know how his body feels inside mine, know the control in his voice and the hunger beneath it, and I want all of it rougher.

I push back to meet him. “Still holding back?”

Cash laughs once, breathless and dangerous. “Not anymore.”

He gathers my hair in one hand and draws me upright against his chest, never breaking the deep rhythm of his hips. His other hand slides down my stomach and between my thighs.

His fingers circle my clit. The combined pressure makes my knees weaken, but Cash holds me easily, his mouth against my ear as he tells me how good I feel around him and how long he’s imagined hearing me lose control.

“Tell me what you want,” he says.

“I want you to fuck me until I feel you tomorrow.”

The sound he makes is pure approval. He pushes me forward again, one hand braced beside mine on the mattress while the other keeps working between my thighs. Each thrust lands deep and hard, the bed striking the wall in a steady beat I make no effort to silence. Pleasure gathers fast, hotter because I know exactly what he wants and he’s finally letting me see how much he wants it. When I tell him I’m close, Cash slows just enough to make me whimper.

“Don’t tease me.”

“Then ask.”

I grip the sheets. “Make me come.”

Cash loses whatever restraint remains. He drives into me hard, fingers moving faster until the orgasm tears through me. My whole body clenches around him, and I cry his name into the room while he keeps thrusting through every pulse. Before I can recover, he turns me onto my back and follows me down. I wrap my legs around him as he pushes inside again, his face stripped of every smooth expression.

“I wanted more before you ever came through those gates,” he says, each word roughened by the effort of holding back. “I’m not walking away tomorrow.”

“Good.” I pull him closer. “Because I’m not letting you.”

Cash kisses me as he comes, hips driving deep while his body shudders over mine. I hold him through it, feeling the broken sound against my mouth and knowing it belongs only to me. For several minutes, neither of us says anything. Cash stays braced above me until our breathing slows, then lies beside me and pulls me against his chest.

The sound of the compound continues beyond the room. Low voices in the common area, a motorcycle moving near the garage, boots passing once in the hall. Cash’s hand drifts over my back without urgency, and I trace the edge of a tattoo across his ribs until the last tension leaves his body.

Eventually, he presses his mouth to my hair. “I’m starting to think you’re not nearly as innocent as I gave you credit for.”

“I think you were hoping I wasn’t.”

His fingers tighten briefly at my hip. “I was counting on it.”

I smile against his chest and let my eyes close.

The knock comes early the next morning, before the sun has properly risen. Kane doesn’t waste words through the door. “Just got word from Sheriff Miller. The warrant’s signed. Corbin’s on the road.”

Cash is on his feet immediately. We dress without awkwardness, moving around each other with the efficient intimacy of people who know the next few minutes matter. When he reaches for his cut, I lift it from the chair and hold it open. He slides his arms into the leather, then turns so I can settle it over his shoulders.

“In front of Corbin, the deputies and my father,” I say, “don’t step away from me.”

Cash cups my face and kisses me once, hard and possessive. “Wasn’t planning to.”

We walk into the yard together. Kingdom Come gathers beneath the garage lights, cuts dark against wet gravel, Kane and Judge at the front. Beyond the fencing, headlights move between the trees, followed by the first flash of red and blue. Corbin is coming to tell a yard full of men that my father is a dirty cop and that I don’t know my own mind. This time, he’ll have to say it while I’m standing beside the biker who knows exactly what I want.