Page 51 of Outlaws' Single Mom
I couldn’t take him right now, I’m too exhausted, but I bring my hands up to my breasts and cup them, look up at him through my eyelashes and say with a husky voice, “It’s my turn to watch. Show me how you come.”
“Fuck,” he groans, and then his cock swells in his fist. It jumps with each pulse as his thick cum shoots out to spatter onto my belly and breasts. I slide my fingers through it without taking my eyes off him, giving him a show while he works his way through all of his orgasm. He’s so freaking hot like that.
His breathing settles, and he sits back on his heels with a sexy, satisfied smile. “Fuck, that was sexy.”
I laugh. “I’m a mess. You guys made me a mess.”
“Fucking sexy mess,” Lash agrees with a wink. He stretches out naked on the floor, exhausted. “Give us a little bit and we can go again if you want.”
“No way. If I stay here too long I’m just going to fall asleep.” My eyes drift shut for a second and I jolt awake. “Uh, guys?”
“Yeah?” Stiff asks.
“How am I supposed to get back to the apartment?” The idea of putting clothes over my cum covered skin is absolutely disgusting.
Jackal laughs. He finds his T-shirt and helps me put it on. It’s not nearly as bad as my own since it’s about three sizes too big and falls to my thighs. “There, that and you can borrow one of our jackets. You can use my shower first if you want.”
“Tempting, but I should get back to Logan.”
Lash shakes his head. “He’s fine. Bonnie texted earlier. He’s already asleep in the pillow fort he and Anne built together, and they’re prepared to stay there all night. I believe her direct message was to tell you, “Everything is good, enjoy getting railed.”
I smile and relax back on the bed. “Well, in that case, who am I to argue?”
28
LASH
I wakeup on Stiff’s couch feeling like I got hit by a bus. My arm is a dead weight hanging from my shoulder, and Stiff is snoring like a bull. I feel around numbly for my boots, manage to grab the top, and then sling it across the room.
“Ow! Fuck! What the Jesus Christ was that?”
Jackal?
It all comes back to me. The party, sneaking Dakota into the loft, coming back to Stiff’s room to continue the evening. Where’d Dakota go? My phone buzzes. It’s not her, but there is a message from her in the long list of notifications. Something about her going back to the apartment.
“You both need to shut the fuck up or get out of my room,” Stiff grumbles.
“Check your messages. Poe got the data from Georgia’s phone.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’ve collected Dakota and we're in the tech cave Poe has set up in the old office of the school. A rack of computers hums and blinks against one of the walls, connected to all sorts of shit that I have no idea what is, but keeps us with internet and surveillance cameras and crap like that. Poe's desk is arranged so that no one can walk in on him and what he's doing without him noticing, but he waves us around to watch something on his laptop.
“Alright, first off, fair warning, the most interesting thing I’ve found is a video of someone getting shot. I don’t think it’s anyone we know, but if you don't have the stomach for it, this is your last chance.” Poe looks pointedly at Dakota, who blanches, but shakes her head.
“No.” Her lips straighten in determination. “If it’s on Georgia's phone, I want to see it.”
He gives her a searching look, but nods. “Your choice.”
I put my arm around her shoulder, and notice Jackal’s hand resting on her lower back. She's stiffer than a board. “If you want, we can watch first and tell you if it’s bad.”
“No, I’m not a delicate little flower. I wouldn’t be here if I was,” she snaps.
Jackal nods. “Roll film.”
Poe double clicks a file and a vertical video clip pops up. It's shaky, and the angle’s bad, with something covering a strip on the left. Two men are in view, talking. The one facing us I don't recognize, and the other guy has his back to us. They're obviously not having a good time. The one we can see is fucking pissed. He’s gesturing angrily, and misses when the other guy puts his hand to his back and starts slipping a gun from his belt.
“You're too fucking deep!” The sound's a little muffled, but it's the guy whose face we can see. “If you don’t tell them, then I will. I can't just let this pass, you fucking know it.”
“Jesus, Ross. I'm just making sure they trust me. It's all for the job.” The voice itches a spot in my brain. I’ve heard it before.
