Page 24

The trailer is an old school bus, the kind you know they repainted themselves from the crappy job and the hand-painted Steel Outlaws on the side. It’s been chopped into six makeshift sections, each with a flimsy curtain barely hiding a single bed. My hellcat is at the back, cross-legged on her bed, deep in conversation with Juniper. Gamble is leaning against the side of the bus, keeping an eye on them. Not exactly what I pictured. The first bed, squeezed into the tightest space, has a guy sitting on it, and I size him up.

“Interesting setup,” I say.

He lets out a rough laugh. “I know what you’re thinkin’, but this is temporary. And I got the best seat in the house.”

“You did?” I glance around.

“Yeah, see, I got this whole section.” He waves his hand, gesturing from the driver’s seat to his bed. “When everyone crashes, I string up my curtain, and I either sleep or sit behind the wheel, sip on a drink, take in the peace. They just have their bunks.” He taps his temple. “Smartest move.”

“And what about a bathroom?”

“Bucket. But most of the time, we hit rest stops.”

“You drive too?”

He holds out his hand. “George. Drummer, driver, and all-around good guy.”

I grip his hand. “Whiskey Mick.”

He gives a nod. “Nice to meet you.”

“You guys played well tonight.”

A grin spreads across his face. “Yeah, we did. Got a couple of scouts in the crowd tonight. Tomorrow, we’re playing our originals, mixing in a few covers. Should be even better. Hoping we’ll get signed.”

I give him a two-fingered wave and a nod. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, man.”

As I walk down the bus’s narrow aisle, the band members nod in acknowledgment and shift aside to let me pass. When I reach her, she stands up, a slow smile tugging at her lips.

“Hey, you,” she murmurs, sliding her arms around my neck before pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that sends a jolt through me. “Juniper and Gamble are heading back to their tent. You wanna play bodyguard while I grab a shower at the communal block?”

“I can do that,” I reply, my voice low.

With one arm still looped around my neck, she grabs a small bag, winks at Juniper, and then her hand slides down, teasingly brushing over my belt buckle as she tugs me toward the front of the bus.

“George, I’m heading to get cleaned up. Don’t wait up,” she calls over her shoulder.

George chuckles. “As if I would.”

He gives me a knowing smirk as we step down the stairs and into the cool night air. She lets me go, but I immediately take her hand in mine.

“Which way to the bathrooms?” I ask.

She nods toward a dimly lit block of buildings ahead. “Over there. It’s usually fine, but now and then, some drunken idiot stumbles in, thinking he might get lucky… or try to cop a feel.”

I laugh. “So, you really wanted a bodyguard?”

She nods, her voice playful. “Yep.” Then, quieter, she adds, “But maybe you could guard my body inside the cubicle?”

As we walk toward the block, her hand warm in mine, my mind drifts. I don’t even know her name. It’s crazy. Most people start with that, right? But with her, it hasn’t mattered. From the moment we crossed paths, everything felt different. She’s got this energy, this wild spark that’s impossible to ignore. There’s something about how she moves, talks, and teases like she knows she’s got me hooked, and she’s enjoying every second.

And damn, I like it.

I glance at her from the corner of my eye. The way the moonlight catches in her hair, and her lips twitch into that half-smile when she knows I’m watching, there’s a freedom to her, a recklessness that pulls me in, makes me forget everything else. I’m supposed to be thinking about my club, the next move, keeping everyone in line. But when she’s around? All that fades into obscurity.

This one feels different and I’m in deeper than I probably should be.

We reach the shower block, and she stops, turning to face me, her fingers still loosely intertwined with mine. “You good out here?” she asks, but a teasing gleam in her eyes sends heat surging through me.

I smirk, shaking my head. “You really think I’m staying out here?”

She bites her bottom lip, playful and tempting, before pulling me toward one of the cubicles. My heartbeat kicks up a notch, and I follow because I can’t resist her.

Inside, the air is cooler, the faint hum of water dripping from a nearby faucet. She drops her bag onto a small bench and turns to me, pressing her body against mine. For a split second, I forget everything—where we are, who I am. It’s just her—this woman who has me completely unraveled.

The truth is, I don’t care. Not tonight.

Moving closer, I lean in to kiss her, and she pulls back.

“Hang on a minute.” She reaches into her bag, pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels. Without hesitation, she tips it back and takes a swig, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she hands it to me.

“Liquid courage?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

With a soft laugh, she shakes her head. “More like a breath mint for both of us.”

I can’t help but chuckle as I take the bottle, swishing the whiskey around in my mouth before swallowing it. The burn is familiar, but there’s something about this moment that makes it taste a little sweeter. Turning back, I shut the door behind me, locking us in. She extends her hand for the bottle, and I pass it over without a word. With a grin, she drops it back into her bag, the sound of glass clinking against her things, then steps back, her eyes never leaving mine.

She kicks off her shoes, one after the other, and with a smirk that makes my pulse quicken, she says, “Take a seat.”

Leaning back against the cool tile wall, I fold my arms. “I’m not really one for spectator sports. I prefer to play.”

Her grin widens, eyes flashing with that wildness I crave. She takes another step back, but her gaze stays locked on mine, a silent challenge hanging in the air between us. That’s the thing about her—she’s always testing how far I’m willing to go. And every time, I’m more than willing to find out.

With a sigh, I finally give in and sit on the bench, stretching out my legs. “You know, at some point, you’re going to have to tell me your name.”

She gives me that playful smirk again, the kind that’s always got something behind it. “You can call me whatever you like.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Hellcat?”

Laughter spills out of her, the sound light and free, and she nods. “I like that.”

“For now, Hellcat it is.”

Hellcat meets my gaze, her eyes gleaming with amusement before she reaches for the waistband of her leather pants. Slowly, deliberately, she undoes them, the soft sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet. Her fingers tug the material down her hips just enough, teasing, before she switches her attention to her top. She grabs the hem and pulls it over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside.

She stands there, barefoot now, in just her bra and those leather pants that are hanging low on her hips, her eyes locked on mine. The air between us thickens, charged with the kind of sexual tension that can snap at any moment. And damn, if I’m not ready for it to break.

Hellcat. Yeah, the name fits—fierce, untamed, and in control.

The smirk fades from her lips, replaced by a sudden seriousness as she looks down at herself and then back at me. “Small problem,” she says, a hint of mischief still lingers in her voice.

“Hmm?” I reply, feigning ignorance, but I can already feel the anticipation building.

“These things are skintight. I can’t get them off without help.”

A chuckle escapes me as I stand up, the playful challenge in her eyes igniting something primal inside me. “Come here.”

With a grin that’s all confidence, she strides toward me, placing her hands on my chest. The warmth of her touch sends a jolt through me. My fingertips find the sides of her leather pants, feeling the cool material against my skin. I can’t help but admire how she fits into them—every curve and line accentuated.

I grab the sides of her pants and peel them down over her ass. The best way I can describe what comes next is that it takes more than a little effort, but every inch feels electric. As the leather finally slips past her curves, I’m acutely aware of how close we are, the heat radiating between us, the world outside fading away.

“Sit,” I order, my voice steady but low.

Without hesitation, Hellcat obeys, sinking onto the bench with a playful glint in her eyes. I finish pulling off her pants, tossing them aside, and watch as she stretches her legs, a satisfied grin spreading across her face.

“Damn, that feels so much better,” she admits, her voice tinged with relief and a hint of delight.

I can’t help but chuckle at her reaction and how her body seems to relax now that the restrictive leather is gone. She looks up at me, her expression a mix of mischief and comfort as if we’ve crossed into some uncharted territory. The air between us is charged, thick with possibilities, and I can feel the unspoken connection deepening.

My hellcat is sitting in front of me with nothing but the smallest black G-string I’ve ever seen and a lacy black bra. She stands, and her hands go to my belt buckle. I try to kiss her, but she avoids me as she pulls off my belt, then undoes my button and zipper. Tilting my head to the side, I try to kiss her, and again she avoids me. So I take a step back, peel off my cut, hang it on the hook on the back of the door, and then take off my black T-shirt. She chews on her bottom lip and smiles at me, so I sit, take off my boots, then stand and let my jeans fall to the floor. Unlike her, I’m not wearing any underwear, and my cock is standing at attention, waiting for her to do something. Hell, anything.

She stands, hooks her thumbs over the sides of her G-string, pulls it down her legs, and then steps out of the flimsy material. Next, she undoes her bra and lets it drop to the floor. I suck in a breath—she’s beautiful. Her breasts are round and firm, with smooth skin and a slight bounce as she moves past me to turn on the shower. Her nipples are perfectly shaped, standing at attention with a rosy hue and small raised bumps.

With a groan, I join her under the running water, my mouth capturing one of her nipples as I suck and flick my tongue across it. She lets out a moan and drags my mouth up to hers as one leg drapes around my waist. The kiss tastes like Jack Daniels, and I want to devour this woman.

Suddenly, she leans back and shakes her head. “Let’s slow down.”

“Not really in my vocabulary.”

My hellcat grins. “At least let me wash up. After all, you told me I stink.”

Laughing, I kiss her lips. “I didn’t mean it.”

Her leg drops to the floor, and she pushes me back. “Yeah, you did. Wanna soap me up?”

Hellcat moves around me, reaches back into her little bag, and pulls out a liquid soap bottle. She squirts the fruity-smelling cleanser into her hands and tosses it to me. Rubbing her hands together, she puts them over her breasts, then under her arms and down her sides toward her cleanly shaved pussy.

“You can close your mouth, Whiskey.”

I snap my mouth shut and chuckle. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you?”

Her gaze goes to my cock. “Oh yeah.”

Well, two can play that game. I squeeze the fruity liquid into my hands, then run my hands from my chest down to my cock, where I pump it twice as I stare into her green eyes.

Hellcat bites her bottom lip and moves toward me. “Do you need help with that?”

Her hand covers mine, and I growl as she strokes me. Lowering my head, I pepper kisses from her ear to her collarbone.

“How are we going to do this?”

Raising my hand, I tug on the showerhead a couple of times. “Think you can hang on?”

She looks up and grins. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“But let’s have some fun first?”

Hellcat tilts her head to the side and quirks an eyebrow at me. My fingers trace the delicate curve of her jaw, then tangle into the wild tresses at the nape of her neck as I press my body against hers. The heat between us is electric. She tastes like a forbidden fruit—sweet and intoxicating. Her hands eagerly explore my body, digging her nails into my shoulders and igniting a fire within me. There’s nothing like a bit of pleasure and pain.

Breaking away from our kiss, we lock eyes. I drop to the cold tiles, lifting one of her legs and placing it over my shoulder. I kiss her inner thigh, but she’s impatient and guides me to her pussy. My tongue explores her folds, and she lets out a soft moan. Hellcat’s hips begin to sway, pushing herself against my face, her hands clenching my shoulders as the pleasure takes over.

“Whiskey,” she whispers my name between breaths, urging me on.

I oblige, increasing the rhythm and intensity of my licks and sucks. Her moans become louder and deeper. When I push two fingers inside her wet pussy, Hellcat arches her back and lets out a loud cry, signaling her orgasm is upon us. Her body trembles beneath me, the waves of pleasure washing over her as I continue to devour her. Her cries grow louder, each one propelling her closer to the edge. My fingers move within her, teasing and torturing until she can’t take it anymore.

“Whiskey!” she screams, her voice echoing through the room as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave. Her hips buck wildly, pushing against my face as her body shakes uncontrollably. I hold her close, my fingers never relenting in their onslaught on her sensitive spots.

When I’ve drawn the last quiver out of her, I stand, and she smiles, her green eyes sparkling.

“Goddamn.”

“I aim to please.”

Looking up at the showerhead, Hellcat follows my lead, raises her arms over her head, and grips it. Bending slightly, I grab her ass, then lift her, impaling her on my cock. She gasps, I pull out, then thrust back into her. She closes her eyes, and her head falls back, enjoying my actions. Her fingers turn white as she grips the showerhead harder, and I increase my pace, owning her body with every thrust. Hellcat’s moans fill the bathroom, her pleasure echoing off the tiles as our bodies connect in a perfect rhythm.

Hellcat’s hips buck against me, urging me to go faster, deeper. The water sprays us, and the sound of our bodies slapping together fills the small space.

As Hellcat’s orgasm nears, I feel her muscles tighten around my cock. She bites her lip, trying to stifle her cries of pleasure, but they escape nonetheless.

“Harder, Whiskey,” she demands.

“Tell me your name.”

I slow my thrusts, and her eyes immediately open. “Please.”

“Give me your name.”

She bites her bottom lip, takes a deep breath, and whispers, “Brandy.”

A laugh escapes me. “Nice to meet you, Brandy.”

“Now, fuck me.”

With renewed vigor, I thrust into her, feeling her walls tighten around me once more. Her eyes lock onto mine as I move within her, our bodies slick with water and soap.

“Fuck, Whiskey,” Hellcat whispers between gasped breaths. “You feel so good inside me.”

I smile against her lips as I continue to pump into her, feeling her tight walls grip me more with each thrust. My hands firmly grip her ass as I pick up speed, feeling the excitement building within me.

“Brandy,” I groan. “I’m close.”

Her mouth falls open, and her pussy clenches around me. My thrusts become erratic, my need for release overwhelming me. Brandy’s cries fill the small space, her encouragement sending me closer and closer to the edge. She’s beautiful in this moment, her orgasm having taken her over completely.

“I’m there, Brandy,” I whisper, my entire body trembling with the force of my impending climax. “I’m going to come.”

She softly moans as I thrust harder and faster into her, my release drawing nearer. Brandy lets go of the showerhead and digs her nails into my shoulders. It’s all I need to send me over the edge. My nails dig into her hips as she meets each movement, her walls milking me of every ounce of pleasure.

Finally, as the aftershocks of our passion subside, I gently pull out of Brandy. She collapses into my arms, gasping for air and laughing softly. That laughter turns into a passionate kiss as we savor the remnants of our lovemaking.

As the echoes of our laughter and passion fade, Brandy pulls away from the kiss, resting her head on my chest.

“Thank you,” she whispers, tracing her fingers down my arms. “That was… incredible.”

As I hear her words, I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. “It was my pleasure, Brandy.”

She smiles up at me. “Let’s get out of here and make some more memories.” She turns off the water and moves toward her bag, pulling out a towel.

“Your place or mine?”

She dries herself off, then holds out the towel to me. “Yours. I’m sure it will be more private than the bus.”

“Not much more, but unless they stick their heads inside my tent, we’ll have the illusion of privacy.”

“I can be quiet,” she teases, her voice like velvet, wrapping itself around me and pulling me closer without her even touching me.

“Quiet, huh?” I murmur, my eyes narrowing as I take her in from head to toe. “Guess we’ll see how long that lasts.”

Her grin widens, daring me to try her. A spark in her eyes tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing and what she’s going to get. I already feel the heat building between us. It’s like the air is too thick, charged with something we both know we can’t resist.

Something about Brandy pulls me in, like we’re two spirits meant to collide. When we’re together, it’s not just chemistry, it’s combustion. She’s smooth and sweet, but there’s a dangerous kick beneath the surface that would bring any other man to his knees. But I’m not just any man. I’m Whiskey—strong, sharp, steady. I’ve seen and survived it all, but even I know when Brandy mixes with Whiskey, it’s bound to be explosive.

She’s fire, I’m fuel, and together? We’re an inferno waiting to happen. I can feel the burn starting now, spreading through me like wildfire. This night will end in flames, and I’ll gladly let it consume me.