Page 8 of Desert Loyalties

SKYE

I reach for Drake, steadying myself on the bed while reaching for his waistband. My fingers brush the button of his jeans, and I look up at him through my lashes. He’s watching me.

I rise up on my knees and kiss him slowly, like he didn’t just make me weak in the knees.

Undoing the button of his jeans with a quiet snap, I tug the zipper down, the sound loud in the silence between our breaths. He doesn’t rush me. Just watches, eyes burning.

Drake steps back just enough to shed the last of his clothes, standing in front of me naked, unapologetic, and entirely mine in a way that steals the air from my lungs.

My eyes trace over him, not just because of the way he looks, but because of the way he looks at me. Like I’m something he never thought he’d have but now refuses to lose.

There’s tension in his body, its coiled and tight. I can see how much he’s holding back, not out of hesitation, but restraint. It’s in the way his fists clench for a second at his sides before he breathes out and climbs on the bed.

I lie back on the sheets as he covers me with his body. Feeling him between my thighs, his cock hot against my skin, is a great fuckin’ feeling. He rocks his hips, gliding between my folds, coating his tip with the wet evidence of my desire.

The moment his tongue touches mine, he’s pressing the head of his cock to my entrance.

I break our kiss and lay back. Not to hide, but to look up at him, wanting to see him in the moment we become one.

His cock parts my flesh as he slides inside me in a long, slow thrust until his balls are pressed against my ass.

The breath is punched from my lungs. My eyes start to flutter shut from the intensity of it but I don't let them. No, I look at Drake with his neck coiled tight and eyes squeezed shut. I can tell, he's trying to hold back, to rein it in.

I don't let him. I clinch my pussy around his cock, and his eyes spring open staring down at me.

"Don't you dare hold back." I hiss, squeezing him tighter.

The band breaks, in one second, he goes from being sweet Drake to rutting into me like an animal.

"Oh, God" I can't help but moan as he pistons in and out of my pussy.

Instead of slowing down, my moans egg him on. He raises my left leg, damn near my shoulder, and fucks me in long, deep, strokes. I've never felt so full, so complete. His body moves like a well-oiled machine, not faltering for a second.

"Fuck, I'm already close" I moan, reaching out to grab a hold of his wrist.

He leans forward and bites my nipple, sending my body into spasms. I close my eyes, arching my back, and scream. My entire body feels like it's exploding. I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. "Again." His hand slides into my hair, fisting it as he fucks me harder and harder.

He lets out a roar, fuckin’ me into the mattress, the bed is banging against the wall. Oh, oh, it feels so fuckin’ good. He angles his hips and his cock starts hitting my sweet spot with each thrust.

Drake clenches his fist in my hair, "Look at me." I didn't even realize my eyes had closed. Staring into my eyes, still thrusting he bends his head and bites my lower lip sending me tumbling to a mind-blowing climax. Letting out a groan, loud and low he stills, coming deep inside me.

He leans forward, letting go of my hair and wraps his arms around me, rolling us over so I'm lying on top of him.

We stay like that for a few moments, just breathing, trying to come down from our highs.

We're both sticky and sweaty, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I lean up and kiss his neck, his cheek, his chin.

I kiss the corner of his mouth, his lips.

He kisses me back. This is our moment, no one can take it away from us.

I must have jinxed us.

Because the next day, Drake’s phone starts ringing.

The shrill sound shatters the silence, yanking us out of the sleep we had just fallen into.

My body aches in the best way, sore from the many times we’d reached for each other through the night, but I barely get the chance to enjoy it before reality slams back in.

Drake answers the call, his voice a gravelly mutter, sharp with tension. I can’t hear the other side, but the way his jaw clenches tells me enough. He hangs up with a clipped, “Fuck.”

Then he’s moving; grabbing his jeans, yanking them on, his whole body buzzing with quiet rage. He tosses my clothes toward the bed.

“Get dressed.”

I sit up, clutching the shirt to my chest. “What happened?”

“The DEA just raided the clubhouse.” His voice is flat, cold. Controlled, but barely.

My stomach drops. “What?”

“Ranger called us in.”

I blink. “Us?”

Drake stops, turns to look at me. “Yeah. Us.”

I’m quiet. Processing. The air between us hums with the weight of what that means.

Then he says it with his eyes locked on mine, voice low. “You ready for this?”

I swallow hard. My pulse is racing. My head says run. My gut says scream. But my heart, my heart looks at him and knows he’s the only solid thing in a world that keeps shifting.

“No,” I admit, honest and raw. “But I trust you.”

His gaze softens for a fraction of a second. Just a flicker. Then he nods and grabs his cut off the back of the chair, slipping it over his shoulders.

“Then let’s go.”

The ride to the clubhouse feels longer than before.

In another life, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be the youngest child of a wealthy couple, the one with the big heart. I’d be the spoiled baby of the family. I might’ve even become a doctor; I had the affinity for it.

In movies and books, they love to talk about the “smart kids” who work their way through high school, land full scholarships, and graduate debt-free. But the truth? It’s not that simple. Even smart kids need time to study. Even smart kids need sleep.

Junior year, I was taking AP classes, working two shifts as a server. Then I’d head back to the crappy trailer I called home, crawl into a bunk bed not even long enough to stretch my legs and study. I don’t think that mattress was meant for humans, but it was all I had.

Ever tried to study next to a raging party, cramped into a space so small you can’t even stretch out your legs?

It got so bad, I passed out at school one day.

The rumour mill said I was pregnant. The truth? I was just exhausted. Something had to give, and I couldn’t exactly give up eating, so my studies took the hit. Instead of cramming for tests, I started sleeping through the night.

When college application season rolled around, I didn’t get into the Ivies. But I did get one chance, one opportunity to change my fate, but even that wasn’t meant to be.

Yeah. That hit me in whatever strength I had left. I finally accepted that my dreams were dead.

So, I found the cheapest community college I could, as far from home as possible which turned out to be in Nevada. I picked the easiest major, partied my way through it, figured I’d crash and burn my way to some kind of future eventually.

And then I stumbled into the Horsemen’s clubhouse.

Now? Now I don’t know what waits for me as we pull into the compound.

But it’s too late to turn back.