Page 36 of Piston

And as I scoop her into my arms, her peals of laughter echoing off the walls, I know I'd do anything to keep that smile on her face. She's my redemption, my reason to be a better man.

And I'm sure as hell not letting her go.

A couple of days later, we're sprawled on the couch, some mindless action flick playing on the TV. But my focus is on Jenny, the way she's curled into my side like she belongs there.

"Hey," she says softly, tilting her head to look up at me. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything, darlin'," I reply, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

She takes a deep breath, like she's steeling herself. "It's about my mom."

I sit up a little straighter, giving her my full attention. "I'm listening."

"She died when I was sixteen," Jenny begins, her voice wavering slightly. "Car accident. It was just me and my dad after that, and he... he didn't handle it well."

I tighten my arm around her, silently urging her to continue.

"He started drinking, lost his job. I had to pick up the slack, you know? Make sure the bills got paid, food was on the table." She shakes her head, a bitter twist to her lips. "I grew up fast."

"I'm sorry, Jenny," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple. "That must've been rough."

She shrugs, but I can see the pain in her eyes. "It was what it was. But I had Carlie. She's been my rock through everything."

"You two are close, huh?" I ask, remembering the fierce protectiveness in Carlie's eyes when she'd confronted me at the bar.

"She's more than just my best friend," Jenny says, a soft smile lighting up her face. "She's my sister, my family. I don't know what I'd do without her."

I nod, understanding the sentiment all too well.

Piston watched Jenny as she bustled around the kitchen, putting away the last of the dishes from their dinner. Her long brown hair swayed with her movements, catching the light. She was humming softly to herself, lost in her own little world.

He marveled at her strength, her resilience. Everything she'd been through - losing her mom, her dad's struggles, being on her own so young. And yet here she was, this bright, beautiful woman who lit up every room she walked into. She wasn't just a pretty face tending bar and doing hair. She was a fighter, a survivor. Just like him.

Jenny glanced over, catching him staring at her. A slow smile spread across her face. "What's that look for?"

Piston pushed off the counter and crossed to her in two long strides. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "Nothin'. Just thinkin' about how amazing you are."

Her cheeks flushed pink and she playfully swatted his chest. "Stop it. I'm nothing special."

"You're wrong." His voice was low and serious. "You're the most special woman I've ever met. The way you keep going, no matter what life throws at you. Your big heart. That smile that lights up the world. You're one of a kind, darlin'."

Tears welled in her eyes. She bit her lip, blinking them back. "Piston, I..."

He cut off her words with a searing kiss, no longer able to hold back. She responded instantly, opening for him, her arms winding around his neck. He grabbed her hips, lifting her up onto the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Piston groaned as he ground his hard cock against her center, only the thin fabric of her little shorts separating them. He needed to feel her, taste her. With a growl, he shoved the flimsy material aside and slid his fingers through her slick folds. She cried out, her head falling back as he stroked her.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he rasped against her throat. "I need you, Jenny. All of you."

"Yes," she panted, yanking at his shirt. "I need you too. Now."

Clothes went flying as they frantically undressed each other, desperate to eliminate any barriers between them. Piston dipped his head, pulling one rosy nipple into his mouth while he thumbed the other. Jenny mewled and writhed beneath him.

He stood, picking her up, and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. Gently, he laid her on the bed, taking a moment just to admire her naked body spread out before him like a feast.

Then he was on her, kissing and licking his way down her body until he reached the promised land. He inhaled deeply, her musky sweet scent filling his nostrils. "Fuck, you smell good enough to eat."

Piston made good on his words, burying his face between her thighs and lapping at her wetness like a man starved. She tasted like honey and sin. He couldn't get enough. Jenny's moans and whimpers urged him on as he drove her closer to the edge with his lips and tongue.

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