Page 11 of Trip (Sons of Hell MC #11)

C.C.

As soon as we were out of earshot of the house, Trip wasted no time in claiming my mouth with his.

It was a kiss that demanded my full attention, and I found myself once again willingly surrendering to his passionate advance.

His lips were insistent, his tongue confidently taking control.

I felt my knees go weak as he pulled me closer, his hands burning a path up and down my back.

It was a kiss that left me breathless and, for a moment, I forgot where we were headed.

Trip was certainly a confident kisser. I couldn’t help but smile against his mouth as he briefly retreated, only to dive back in for more.

It was like he knew exactly how to make me forget about everything except the feel of his lips on mine.

I wondered if he had been practicing his kissing techniques in his spare time—not that I was complaining!

His hands continued their journey along my back, sending shivers down my spine, and I melted into him.

It was clear that Trip was not going to let me get away without making his intentions known, and I had a feeling this kiss was just the beginning of his persuasive tactics.

Little did he know, I was more than happy to play along.

I trembled in a quick shiver, flattening my palms against his chest. I no longer noticed the chill in the air, the tiredness in my bones, the heat of anger that only moments ago had coursed through my body.

My mind focused entirely on Trip.

I leaned into him. A moan came from me as my arms slid around his neck and my tongue thrust against his.

The connection went deeper. The kiss turned wilder.

His hands supported me while his mouth took control, guiding, arousing.

I couldn’t get close enough. The urge came over me to climb his body and clamp my legs around his waist.

Trip’s fingers tightened around the locks of my hair.

He broke the kiss and yanked my head back.

His lips moved over my exposed throat, flicking his tongue.

He sucked lightly. The sensations drove me to the point where I wanted to beg for more.

He dipped his tongue into the hollow of my throat, and my mouth popped open.

I let out a sigh, neediness growing inside me until it took on a life of its own.

I sank my hands into his hair and pulled him up so I could bring his mouth back to mine.

“I fucking hate you,” I said breathlessly, brushing my lips against his as he gripped my ass and hauled me against him. His erection was impossible to miss.

Desire rolled through me, remembering the last time I gave into lust, as his throaty chuckle vibrated against my throat. “Sure, Slick,” he groaned, sucking on my bottom lip. “Whatever you say.”

Fucking bastard.

My eyes flickered open and swept over the surroundings.

We were alone, and I prayed my brother didn’t come looking for me.

He groaned and retook my mouth. With one hand cradling the back of my head, the other squeezed my ass, grinding his cock against my pelvis.

He was hard, so fucking hard.

I slipped my hand between our bodies and stroked him. My fingertips ran along his stiff cock. He growled as his tongue swept over mine. I massaged his dick, wanting to feel his silky skin without any barriers, to have him thrusting inside me, filling me, making me come.

Trip pulled his mouth from mine and spent one breath-stealing second looking into my eyes, and then he turned me around and pressed me against the nearest tree.

I’d expected him to drag me to the ground, not fuck me out in the open like some dog in heat!

Lifting my dress, he yanked my panties from my body, then slipped a finger inside me.

“Thank fuck,” I barely heard him say. Then I heard the sound of a zipper right before he sank deep inside me.

There was no build-up.

No foreplay.

No romance.

Out in the open, for the entire world to see, and I didn’t give a damn.

“Oh yes. Fuck me.”

And that was all the encouragement he needed as he pumped his dick furiously inside me.

Holding onto the tree for dear life, he plunged deeper, his fingers digging into my hips as he sought the same release I so desperately needed. He drove into me so hard that I cried out with every thrust. He kept up the pace for so long that his stamina left me breathless.

As I braced myself for another earth-shattering orgasm, his movements became more urgent, his thrusts erratic.

The rough tree bark dug into my palms as I braced myself, my body still racing toward my climax when he thrust deep and stilled, his body tensing as he unloaded his cum deep inside me.

A strangled groan escaped his throat, and he buried his face in the curve of my shoulder.

What?

I knew that fucker wasn’t done.

I didn’t cum yet!

What the fuck just happened?

The reality of my situation sank in when he slid his now flaccid cock from my soaking wet pussy. Turning around, I glared at the son of a bitch as his mouth curved into a satisfied smile and he stepped back, tucking his dick back into his pants.

His eyes were dark with mischief.

He knew he had me exactly where he wanted me.

Unable to move, the fucker took another step back, his eyes flicking down to my swollen lips before meeting my gaze.

“You felt as good as I remembered.” He smirked. “Maybe a little looser, but nothing some Kegel exercise can’t fix.”

What the fuck did he just say?

OH MY FUCKING GOD!

I wanted to throttle him!

I wanted to demand he stick his dick back inside me and make me come! Mainly, I wanted to rip his dick from his body and shove it up his ass!

Instead, I grabbed his shirt and yanked him back toward me.

“Why the hell did you stop?” I asked, my tone demanding.

Trip’s smile widened as he took in my furious expression, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. “I believe a gentleman always leaves a lady wanting more,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

I felt my anger boil away any residual desire within me.

“You’re no gentleman,” I retorted, my voice seething with anger as he laughed again.

I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to stop, leaving me hanging on the edge like that.

I mean, the guy had skills, there was no denying it.

But seriously, who does that? I glared at him, my eyes narrowing as I took in his smug smile.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I accused, my voice laced with a mixture of desire and frustration.

Trip just laughed, that damn charming laugh of his that somehow made my anger dissipate, at least a little. “Maybe I am,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But don’t worry, I plan to pick up right where I left off. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. Gotta keep you on your toes.”

I wanted to strangle him and kiss him at the same time.

How was that even possible?

This guy had me so twisted up, I couldn’t think straight. And to make matters worse, he just stood there, laughing at me with those intense eyes, as if he was reading my mind and enjoying every conflicted thought.

“You can eat shit and die! I am never going near you again,” I seethed.

Trip’s smile turned wicked. “Yeah, but you still like me,” he countered, taking a step closer.

I didn’t move, unable to decide whether to push him away or pull him toward me.

“So what if I do?” I conceded, my breath catching as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy for you.”

His lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he pulled back to look at me. “Oh, I know you won’t, Slick,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire. “That’s what makes it so damn fun.”

And with that, he pulled me toward him, his mouth crashing down on mine with an intensity that left me reeling. All thoughts of anger and frustration melted away as I surrendered to his kiss, my body pressing against his.

Damn this guy and his irresistible charm!

I knew I should have run in the opposite direction when I had the chance, but here I was, unable to resist the pull of Trip and his maddeningly perfect kissing technique.

It was too damn early in the morning when I pulled up at the track and saw several men hanging around the garage.

Shaking my head, I grabbed my coffee and took my bloody time walking over.

I was in no mood to see or deal with Calvin Trip Hall.

Thanks to that fucker, I had to finish myself off last night, and it was sorely lacking the oomph I wanted.

“This is bullshit!” I heard Crane square off with Trip as I stopped just outside the garage. Leaning against the wall, I stood off to the side and watched the fireworks. “I’m the lead mechanic. No one touches that engine but me unless I say so.”

“Back off, Crane,” another voice rang out, sharp and commanding. Ansel stepped into view, his face a mixture of irritation and authority. “You might be the lead mechanic, but I run things here, and you don’t get to bark orders like you’re king of the garage.”

Crane bristled, his face turning an angry shade of red. “I’ve been here long enough to know what I’m doing. All I’m asking for is respect for the chain of command!”

“Respect is earned,” Ansel fired back, his voice unwavering. “And from what I’ve seen this morning, you’ve got a long way to go.”

The tension in the air crackled like a live wire.

I took a slow sip of my coffee, amused at the show playing out in front of me.

Crane’s shoulders were taut, his hands curled into fists at his sides, but he didn’t take a swing.

Instead, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the garage, muttering curses under his breath.

“Drama already, and it’s not even 9 a.m.,” I called out, stepping into the garage.

Ansel turned toward me, his expression softening slightly.

“You’d think this place was a soap opera,” he muttered, shaking his head as he looked at his watch. “You’re late.”

“I’m the driver.” I grinned. “I’m never late.”

Ansel glared at me. I knew he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, he turned and faced my pit crew. “Listen up, everyone. As you can see, we have some unfamiliar faces around here today. I want to introduce you to your new crew chief, Trip Hall.”

The crew murmured as the newcomers watched from the other side of the garage.

“Trip isn’t new to the track. He grew up in the circuit.

He knows everything there is to know about the cars and what goes on behind the scenes.

As you all know, we’ve had some setbacks, and Trip’s here to get everything back on track.

I’ve given him my full support,” Ansel said, taking a step back, giving Trip the floor. “Trip.”

As Trip stepped forward, he nodded at Ansel before turning to the crew. “All of you are fired.”

“What?!” I shouted, marching toward the motherfucker. “You can’t fire my entire pit crew!”

Trip raised a hand to silence the uproar that followed his announcement.

His face was stony, his stance firm, and for a moment, I could see why Ansel had vouched for him—despite wanting to punch him square in the jaw.

My crew’s murmur of disbelief grew louder, and I caught sight of Jake, my spotter, looking like someone had just told him his dog had died.

“Hold up,” I said, stepping between Trip and the crew. “I’m not going to stand here and let you bulldoze my team without a damn good reason.”

Trip didn’t flinch. “You want a reason? Fine. Your pit crew has been costing this team race after race. Mistakes, delays, bad calls. I’m here to clean house, and that starts with them.”

A wave of indignation rippled through the group. Jake’s jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the wrench in his hand. “That’s bull—”

“Jake,” I interrupted sharply, shooting him a look. The last thing we needed was more fuel on this fire. “Trip, don’t do this. These are good, honest, hard-working men.”

Trip smirked, crossed his arms over his chest, and said, “If you want to keep driving, you’ll let me do my job.”