Grounds for Divorce by Helena Maeve Read Free Book Online Page B

controlled.
    It took Kayla a moment to realize that he was yanking her pants down, and by then it was too late to stop. She darted a glance over her shoulder, enough for a brief glimpse of Booker rolling a condom onto his rock-hard dick. He didn’t give her any warning before he thrust into her.
    Kayla rose up on tiptoes, her thighs shaking with the sudden, delicious stretch. She groped for purchase on the shiny chassis, but there was none to be found. Booker seized her hips in a merciless grip, arresting her movements before she could retreat.
    He wasn’t going to let her drive this. He wasn’t about to make her do all the work.
    Kayla bit her fist to smother a cry. She was too far gone to resist. She came within a couple of hard thrusts, the sound of skin slapping skin ringing in her ears as Booker fucked her to completion.
    Tremors lashed her in agonizing, delightful waves. She resisted the urge to scream, much less plead, for Booker to slow down. Her patience was rewarded a moment later. Booker climaxed with a shuddering moan, digging his fingertips into her flanks as he buried his cock deep into her pulsing sex.
    Little tooth-sized dents marred Kayla’s knuckles when she pried her fist out of her mouth. They didn’t ache half as much as her heart once Booker eased out, wincing, and stripped off the condom.
    Kayla followed the movement of Booker’s arm as he pitched it into the underbrush. She didn’t care to see where it landed.
    Without the frenzy of desire to numb her senses, she felt suddenly exposed. What kind of woman fucked strangers in parking lots?
    Booker zipped up nonchalantly, as though he did this all the time. The headlights cast shadows into the hollows of his collarbones, over the delectable curve of his biceps. It was enough to make Kayla want to reach out and touch. She curbed the instinct.
    “You okay to drive home?”
    Kayla nodded. She pulled up her pants. The worst thing was feeling the delicious throb of afterglow between her legs and knowing that this was the last time. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t go back to—that.
    “Do you want to stay?” Booker wondered.
    “Is that allowed?”
    He smirked with half a mouth. Pleasure had softened his features, the scar on his cheek notwithstanding. “Kayla. Do you want to stay?”
    Home was a warm shower and the privacy of a good cry where no one would hear. It was an empty house and a cold bed, the knowledge that tomorrow she had to face Zach and tell him they were through.
    Kayla filled her lungs with breath. “Yes.”
    She tilted up her chin when Booker framed her face with his big hands and kissed her lips. It lacked the flavor of a goodbye.

ChapterFive
     
     
     
    For a pack of outlaw drunks, Booker’s brothers were exceptionally early risers. Kayla froze in the clubhouse doorway when she saw them. They were a motley bunch, as young and old as they were scarred and rough, most of them in various states of dishevelment. Some still had sloe-eyed women draped across their laps.
    They saw her, too, in her borrowed, baggy T-shirt and unlaced sneakers, legs bare to mid-thigh.
    Kayla considered retreating back to bed and telling Booker she hadn’t been able to work the coffeemaker when one of the men spoke up.
    “You’re Book’s girl, right?” He was fair and freckled, with a lopsided jaw.
    “And you’re…” Kayla searched her memory. “Nolan?”
    “That’s right.”
    “You were itching to rearrange Zach’s face a few days ago.”
    Nolan leaned back in his seat, smirking. “Offer’s still on the table. Book up yet?”
    “Depends on your definition of up,” Kayla answered over her shoulder. There was no real kitchen in the clubhouse, but the coffeemaker was behind the bar, the pot sweating with condensation.
    She heard the screech of chair legs before she noticed Nolan shambling over to lean against the counter, his meaty arms folded across his chest.
    “He takes it black, two sugars.”
    Kayla hesitated. A joke or a lie?