The Broken Pieces of Us (The Devil's Dust #2.1)

“What the hell, Prez?” Locks questions, his head tilted and tone grave. “You ain’t thinking clearly. That boy is in love with her. He’ll say anything!” Locks yells as he points directly at Shadow. I notice Shadow’s face turn red as his jaw clenches. I look at Locks and growl, done with his petty outbursts.

“She didn’t do a Goddamn thing wrong, Locks. We did by not trusting her. You better get that foot outta your ass and start showing her some damn respect, right fucking now!”

Locks gets up, slamming his chair against the wall. “Screw this shit,” he roars, leaving the room.

“I’ll go check on him,” Old Guy says, getting up from the table and following him.

“I swear, you got a bunch of pussies in this club. A bunch of women throwing temper tantrums,” Hawk mumbles. No filter.

I head toward my room, my shoulders feeling lighter knowing Dani is innocent. When I walk in, Babs is bent over my bathroom sink, organizing shit. I quietly shut the door, lock it, and slide up behind her, my hands on both sides of her hips. She squeals and turns in my grasp quickly.

“Bull,” she whispers, slapping my chest with her hand playfully.

“You shouldn’t have cleaned that,” I whisper in her ear, my teeth grazing her earlobe.

“Why?” she asks, arching her body into mine.

“Because we are about to mess it all up,” I inform her as I turn her back around and push down on her back, making her ass stick up in the air.

She doesn’t fight me. She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. Her ivory green bra barely holds her big tits in. I can’t resist; I reach around her and grab both of her tits roughly. My big hands not near big enough to cup them fully.

“Oooo,” she moans out of her plumped lips, my touch turning her on.

She reaches behind me and rubs at my hard dick through my jeans, making me thrust my hips forward.

She lets go, making me growl in frustration. She starts fumbling with her buttons on her jeans. Taking the hint, I unbuckle my belt and drop my jeans and underwear to my ankles, my dick springing free and brushing against her ass crack.

“Take off your shirt; I want to feel you,” she demands, pulling on my shirt.

I pull my shirt and cut off and toss them on the floor, my reaper tattoo inked across my chest staring back at me in the mirror.

I thread my hand between her thighs and slide my finger through her folds, finding her to be wet and ready. I grab the base of my cock and slide it agonizingly slow between her pussy lips before sliding my hand sliding to her front and flicking her clit, teasing her. Her body tenses as she arches her ass out. She reaches behind her and grabs my dick, guiding it into her warm pussy.

She braces herself against the sink as I thrust in and out of her quickly. Her breathing coming in short spurts. She looks up in the mirror, her eyes grabbing mine. I gently grab her by the throat and pull her upward, her back against my chest.

“You see that beautiful woman?” I ask, my voice husky from chasing that fucking feeling of ecstasy.

“Yeah,” she breathes.

“She is mine, and fucking gorgeous, and I love her,” I pant, leaning in and biting the back of her earlobe.

Her mouth parts and moans, her ass meeting my thrusts.

I look down and watch her ass bounce with every piston of my hips. I can’t help but pull my hand back and slap that ass, making her thrust her ass against me forcefully, her pussy drenching with arousal.

“You feel amazing,” I whisper, slapping her ass again. I look in the mirror and watch her tits bounce. I thrust into her harder, wanting a tit to pop out of her bra. After the third pump, her left tit flies out from a cup, exposing that cute little nipple against that big ass tit.

I feel her pussy pulse, clench, and release against my dick. She’s close. I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of her riding my dick. My dick tightens as my balls squeeze.

Wanting her to come with me, I push on her back, making her fall against the sink. I reach around and find her clit and swirl it once, making her eyes roll in the back of her head. She holds her breath, grabs my hand, and makes my finger roll her clit again. She yells before her lips clamp shut, trying to quiet herself. My dick vibrates with pressure, making me slam into her as I spill every drop I have into her.

She lays against the counter, her hand still holding mine on her clit.

“You fuck other women, Bull?” Her question has me pulling out of her and turning her around to look at me.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Do you fuck these little girls who run through here since you’ve been sleeping with me?” she asks, her tone serious.

I run my hands through my hair, lean down and grab my jeans and shit, and pull them up.

“No,” I answer flatly. I haven’t had any desire to sleep with anyone else. The connection I have with Babs, it’s different. I feel something for Babs that I don’t feel for other women.

She closes her eyes and winces, as if my answer is a shock.