A Lil' Less Hopeless by Tara Oakes Page A

apologize to her for not being there, leaving Bernie to bring her home instead. But I managed to get home just minutes after, having disbanded the impromptu family board meeting at the clubhouse.
    I had explained to Lil’s that it was all taken care of, there was nothing left to worry about. It was true... I hadn’t lied to her, given her false comfort. It will be all right. She doesn’t need to know the ins and outs of it, though.
    “Opppp...” I hear her call out through clenched teeth, the impact of my body chopping her words.
    I brush my lips over her ear, the dampening skin sticking to my own. “What, baby?”
    She gulps hard, preparing herself for the methodic impact our bodies are giving to each other.
    “Top! Put me on top.”
    I hold tight while I twist us around, granting her wish.
    She leans back, elongating herself, her tits practically pointing up. I can’t control myself. I reach up and grab hold of both of them, thumbing the nipples to hardened peaks. Her hips twirl round and round, grinding herself deep, sating herself. Kneading them no longer appeases me, I need to taste them.
    I pull her down to me, drawing her pink round tip into my mouth, and I suck hard. She calls out, and throws her hands up to brace onto the headboard. Her loud moaning and groaning encourages me. I slap my hand down onto her ass cheek, grabbing the flesh between my splayed fingers. The circling of her hips increases speed and her panting matches the quickening movements.
    Just when I think she can’t move any faster, she screams out and clenches hard enough on the wood headboard to indent it. Nothing turns me on more than watching my girl get off. I grab her hips and pull down hard, meeting my deep thrust, bringing me to my own release. She collapses down on top of me, and I hold tight while waiting for my body to calm.
    Her aftershocks quake around my cock, drawing out and extending my own spasms.
    “That was goddamned incredible, Lil’s.”
    She tilts her head up and eyes me coyly. “I hope it makes up for missing your bachelor party ‘cause your fiancé got pinched by the feds.”
    Laughter vibrates through us. We spoke at length, reliving every single detail of last night’s ordeal, the moment I had gotten home. There was no need to let it fuck anything else up.
    I play mindlessly with the plumpness of her bottom. “I didn’t miss much. I managed to get a good deal in before having to arrange to spring you out of the slammer.”
    Lil’s playfully smacks my arm and latches on to my lip, her teeth holding me hostage. “Asshole,” she teases.
    I throw her down on the mattress under me, as I spin to cover her with my upper body. I pin her arms up, holding them at bay, above her head. “ Where did you say you wanted it?” I bait her.
    Her eyes grow wide and her cheeks blush a deep shade of berry. She can barely speak coherently, her laughter breaking up her words. “I did not! Jasper, don’t you dare!”
    ******
    Special Agent Christopher Gibson. I tap the edge of the small card I hold in my hands against the wooden bureau. Very few things in this life have the ability to surprise me. Slap me silly and call me shocked... this is one of them. We’ve been searching high and low for the motherfucker. This explains why nothing turned up. While we were looking for a roughneck biker, the real Pretty Boy, a tie-wearing, bitch with a badge, was hiding out behind the scenes.
    It’s safe to say we can scratch him off the short list of murder suspects. Lil’s had always been adamant that she didn’t think he did it, but I couldn’t help but hold out hope that at the very least he knew who did. That’s why we’ve been searching high and low for him.
    If special agent Christopher Gibson knew who shot Shade, there’s no way an arrest would not have been made by now. Which is good and bad. It’s good that Lil’s hasn’t been officially charged, although all signs point to an inevitable arrest at some point unless