Page 26 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

BAKER’S DOZEN

Step inside our bakery and fill your saddlebags with sweet treats fresh from the oven. From cactus cookies to tumbleweed cinnamon rolls and caramel-filled gold nugget pastries, sugary delights await you at Baker’s Dozen.

N OAH

“What the hell was that for?” Esra whirled on me the second we made it to Ace Ryder’s hideout and the orange light flickered on above the door.

“What?” I barked back even though I knew exactly what she meant.

I’d missed almost all my marks. I’d barely even managed to buckle her in. Every time I got my hands on her, my brain produced images of Lucas’s hands roaming over her body instead.

“I almost face-planted out there!”

“Maybe if you were a little more focused on your job—”

“Guys, you’re on the intercom,” Austin interrupted us, “save it for later.”

“I’m not saving anything,” Esra huffed and fumbled around her apron for the hidden mic pack. A moment later, she flipped the switch and the little power lamp died. Her head snapped back up, eyes like blazing fires. “What’s your problem, asshole?”

“My problem?” Someone spoke my name through the headset. A smarter man would have heeded the warning. Instead, I switched my mic pack off too. “You’re my problem. You’re treating this place like it’s your own personal fucking playground.”

“I show up on time. I let myself be hauled through the air. If nobody likes that stunt, that’s not on me. I do what I’m told. I do the work. Everything else is none of your business.”

“If everything else starts affecting my work, it is my literal business.”

She was messing with my brain, and it wasn’t her fault, not fully. She was insufferable but it was my own damn mind that was hung up on Tuesday night. I couldn’t even pinpoint why.

Esra crossed her arms, glaring at me with pure hell in her eyes.

“I’m not the one who screwed up out there.

I can have my fun, get drunk and wear whatever cowboy’s hat I want, and I promise you, I’ll still be here and do the work without it affecting you.

I know my limits. You’re the one who messed up.

You’re the one who threw me like a freaking hay bale or something. ”

“Why are you so obsessed with having fun?” I groaned.

“Why are you– incapable– of having– any?” She punctuated her question by poking her finger into my chest repeatedly.

God, I wanted to snatch that finger and— “Why are you so infuriating? ”

Her brow was deep and her cheeks tinged bright pink. Her finger stayed burrowed into the center of my chest, leaving a hot, pointed mark. “I could ask you the same damn thing.”

For one split second, our surroundings burned themselves into my consciousness. A tiny room the size of a storage shed. Nothing but dust and a table to keep us company. Nobody to hear or see us. And I realized that the blood rushing through my ears would only be quieted by one of two options.

I could kiss her or kill her.

My hand locked hers against my chest and my eyes dropped to her trembling, soft lips.

I had the bandana off my face in one tug.

Esra’s gaze followed my move. When her hand flattened out against my sternum, I didn’t need further invitation, I crushed her mouth under mine.

The kiss was neither soft nor sweet. Esra fell back against the door, letting out a startled gasp.

That tiny sound echoed through my thoughts, finding a corner to permanently embed in my memory.

I expected a slap across the face.

I didn’t expect her tongue to dart out and trace the seam of my lips, asking for entry. I didn’t expect her tongue to taste like chocolate and bad ideas against mine.

I kissed her until my burning lungs forced me to pull back. Esra’s eyes flew open, anger still flaming in them.

“Is this your idea of fun?” I rasped.

“Hard to say.” She pursed her lips. “I think you should try again.”

A small voice in the back of my mind reminded me that this was a big mistake, but Esra’s slim fingers curled into the front of my shirt and quieted that voice in an instant. I leaned back in and kissed her.

That was no moment of hesitation. Esra hungrily kissed me back, pulling me down against herself until she could wrap her other arm around my shoulder. My hands on her waist, I pushed her back, caging her between my body and the door.

She shifted, her hips grinding over my thigh between hers. Despite the many layers of fabric between us, Esra let out a quiet whimper.

Fuck. That sound destroyed even the last shreds of sanity. The only thing that mattered was her soft body against mine.

“How about now? Having fun yet?” I teased without breaking apart.

“Stop talking, Noah,” she mumbled, brushing her lips over mine. “You’re so much more fun when your mouth is otherwise occupied.”

“You have no idea how much fun my mouth can be, princess.”

“Show me.” Her eyes flew to the orange light above the door stopping us from exiting too soon. “Seven minutes in heaven?”

I traced my teeth along her jaw to her ear. “Nothing heavenly about what I’m about to do to you.”

“Okay,” she breathed, “you can use your mouth to say more things like that. I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, will you now?” I chuckled. She had an entirely wrong idea of who was controlling the situation, but I’d show her.

Whatever was left of our seven minutes would be all I’d get. I knew that my lapse in judgment had to come to an end as soon as that orange light went out. Until then, I needed to taste as much of her as I could.

I sank to my knees in front of her, trailing her neck and her collar bone with my lips. I kissed my way down the front of her dress and gathered layers of skirts in my fists.

“Noah,” Esra sighed as she gazed down at me from heavy lids. She slid her hands from my shoulders to my hair, knocking my hat back.

“This might take a minute, princess.” Keeping her skirts bunched around her waist with one gloved hand, I ran the other over the thick straps and buckles that ran above her leggings, around her middle and her thighs. She squirmed as my fingers followed the strap to the insides of her thighs.

“Don’t start making excuses now, Young.”

“Hadn’t crossed my mind.” I slid my hand up the curve of her leg and brushed my thumb over the center seam of her leggings. The fabric dipped in, presenting me with a perfect outline of her pussy. I slipped the tip of my finger into the fold.

“Oh god.” Esra’s fingers tightened in my hair.

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Huh?”

I ripped the center seam of her pants open.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re do-i-nng?” Her voice spluttered when I gripped the harness around her thigh with one hand and leveraged her leg up, opening her up for me.

“ You if you’d shut up for a moment,” I replied.

“God, you’re annoying.” Despite her words, her grip on me tightened impatiently .

Another quick rip and the scrap of fabric she called panties was gone as well. Her bare skin glistened for me, already wet, little muscle spasms rippling through her. I was desperate to know whether her pussy tasted as sweet as her tongue, but I gave myself a moment to drink in the sight.

I dipped my thumb back into the same spot as before, but now the only layer of clothing between us was the black leather of my gloves. Esra whimpered, the sound rippling through her entire body.

I circled my finger over her clit, watching her head fall back and her chest rising and falling fast.

Couldn’t blame a man if he became addicted to this sight, these sounds.

“Goddammit,” she whimpered, pushing herself against my hand.

I would have loved to draw this out, but we were on a tight schedule.

I ran my index finger down the length of her slit to her entrance.

And sank it into her. Her tight walls pulsed around me, and she let out a little high-pitched squeal.

Shit. Esra brought out a fucking depraved part of me.

Because the way her pink pussy gripped the black leather had to be the most intoxicating thing I’d ever seen.

I pulled out slowly, and slid my finger back into her, completely entranced by her sighs and the glistening sheen she was leaving all over my glove.

My own pants strained, my cock hardening just at the sight of her.

“Noah, please,” she whimpered.

I didn’t need any more than those two little words to spur me on. I curled my finger into her and used it to leverage her against me as I brought my mouth over her clit. She tasted even better than I’d imagined, bittersweet and intoxicating.

I nibbled and licked, thrusting my finger hard and fast. I wanted her to unravel. I wanted to watch her make a mess of my glove. I needed her to come for me. Just once. Just once and I could move on from the way she haunted my thoughts.

“Noah, wait, oh god,” she whimpered. Her fingers flew from my hair to the hand I had around her waist, folding around my wrist for support. She dug her nails into my skin. Her standing leg trembled. I glanced up to find the desire on her face mixed with uncertainty. “I can’t.”

“Can’t?” I asked, stilling.

“My leg’s about to give out,” she breathed.

A strange relief filled my lungs at the realization that she wasn’t asking me to stop.

“I can fix that,” I said. Without waiting for her response, I slid my finger out of her.

She let out a small moan of protest. It turned into a surprised squeal when I hooked that hand into the other side of the harness and yanked her second leg up.

I dove forward again, letting my tongue plunge into her.

I kept most of her weight balanced between my arms and the door, but I let just enough of it come down against my face to feel her every twitching reaction.

“Please, please,” she panted.

I groaned, reveling in her desperate need.

“Please, Noah, I need you to…” Her breath hitched, and she pulled at my hair just enough to force me to look up, not enough to make me stop. Her dark, glassy eyes found mine. “Please,” she whispered .

“Fuck, you’re pretty when you beg.”