Mace (Cocky Cage Fighter #4)(10)

By: Lane Hart


It sounds like she makes some sort of quiet squeak of agreement before she turns away, finally climbing in the car so I can shut her door. Hopping into the driver side, a quick twist of my wrist later and Sally roars to life. Best. Sound. Ever. Hailey’s tinkling laugh and the way she says the word Mustang heavy on the “stang”, and my name, stretching it into two words, “May-Son” are now right up there with it. My cock twitches just imaging how good it would sound if he could make her scream out “Oh May-Son!” while buried balls deep inside of her. I decide then and there to never let her shorten my name and start calling me Mace like everyone else except for my sisters. Sister. There’s only one now.

Trying to distract myself from the aching hole in my chest that has been there since losing Mandy, I reach over and turn on my satellite radio. I love being able to listen to all the great classic rap and R&B jams, back when Biggie and Tupac were still alive. Jay-Z’s “Big Pimpin’” is the current hit blasting out of my custom Bose speakers. I turn the song down for Hailey’s sake, and then order my eyes to not look down to see how far her dress hitched up now that she’s sitting. Nope, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. She’s off limits.

I’m not even able to put the car in reverse before I glance down at her lap.

Fuck. Me. Sideways.

Good thing the car wasn’t in gear, or in all probability, I would’ve just creamed another vehicle and dinged up my baby. Speaking of which, I’m about to cream all over something else like a motherfucker. There's so much golden brown thigh showing that I want to jump on top of Hailey right here with God and everyone watching, and then use my cock to whip up some cream in between those gorgeous legs. I'm so turned on that just the mere thought of being inside her has my heart racing and chest heaving with panting breaths like I just went three brutal rounds in the cage. I have never, and I mean never, wanted a woman as much as I want the one beside me. Is it because Linc told me not to touch her? Hell no, my mouth started watering like a fat kid smelling bacon as soon as I laid eyes on Hailey.

“Um, you do know how to drive this thang, right?” Hailey asks. An uncontrollable grin spreads across my face when I hear her say “thang.” I want her to play with my thang, and then maybe we could bang, in the backseat of my ‘stang. Boom! More perfect lyrics. I really should be writing this shit down. Too bad I don’t have a pen in my pocket, although, looking down, the outline of my hard as fuck cock against my zipper kind of looks like one of those chubby pencils we had to use in Kindergarten. Okay, so now I really need to concentrate on getting this chubby under control.

I inhale a deep breath and let it out slowly while I stare straight ahead at the rows of parked cars, trying to think of engines, spark plugs and brake pads to calm down my hormones and erase the fantasy of mounting and fucking Hailey from my brain. Hard to do though since she’s still sitting right beside me, a constant, beautiful temptation smelling absolutely edible. Her cock teasing dress is practically begging for a mouth to dive right underneath the short hem to get a taste of those white, cotton panties with goddamn cherries on top. As if she wasn’t sexy enough, the woman went and made her pussy a fucking banana split. I’d love to go straight Pac-Man on her ass and eat my way right through her. Nom. Nom. Nom.

Fuck, my cock is so achingly hard and contorted in my jeans that I’m gonna be sustaining permanent damage if I don’t do something soon.

“Holy shit, a plane!” I exclaim, pointing over to the airport terminals on Hailey’s right. As soon as her head turns, I tug on the crotch of my jeans and shift my chubby buddy to give him a little breathing room.

“What? Whare?” Hailey asks, pulling out a pair of big, white, cat eye sunglasses from her purse and shoving them over her eyes to search the sky.

“Must’ve missed it landing,” I lie.

Hearing her say whare, I actually have to reach up with my thumb and index finger to lower my lips to stop smiling before she sees. If I tell her the twang is cute, she’ll just get pissed off and think I’m making fun of her, which I most definitely am not. I think her accent is really damn adorable. And if she didn’t look like a pin-up girl before, she sure as hell does now with the vintage accessory covering her eyes, bright red lips shining, and all around classic beauty.

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