Then she dressed and he loaded her up in his truck and got them on their way.

Suddenly, she said, “Paying a stylist to make a sixteen-year-old mean girl’s hair fall out is a far cry from finding a hitman, Deke.”

Deke grabbed her hand, advising again, “Do not flip out until you know what you’re flippin’ out about.”

“The guy strangled me, scared the shit out of me, I thought he was going to kill me. I cannot pull up a lot of emotion about the fact he’s dead. It’s not being vengeful or in denial. It’s just that he doesn’t matter to me. But if Bianca was behind that. If she was there—”

“Babe, what’d I say?”

She didn’t answer.

“Justice.”

“Do not flip out until I know what I’m flipping out about.”

“Our focus is paint,” he told her.

“Our focus is paint,” she repeated after him.

“And you gotta decide what you want for dinner.”

“But I decided lunch.”

“And I decided how I was gonna fuck you before lunch. I’m tradin’ my turn on dinner on deciding how I’m gonna fuck you tonight.”

He glanced at her as he turned on County Road 18.

She was grinning at him.

When he looked back to the road, she said, “Deal.”

That was good.

Because he’d already decided how he was going to fuck her and that goodness was happening for certain.

* * * * *

Deke drove into his Jussy on his knees, one of her legs pressed straight up his torso, the other leg curled around his hip, her hands above her head pushing into the headboard, taking him.

She was panting softly, a sound he felt drive through his dick. He could see through the moonlight that her eyes were hooded, her hair all over the pillows, her tits bouncing with his thrusts, and she was so gorgeous, he had to get her there.

Fast.

He pulled her leg off his torso, wrapped it around, bent over her and pulled her up into his arms.

He fell back to his calves.

Jussy swung her legs back around and hooked the tops of her feet on his thighs.

Deke wound one hand in her hair, the other arm he kept around her waist.

She curled both arms around his shoulders.

She bent her head to him, lips brushing his, pants blending with his rough breaths.

He drove up inside her.

She rode him hard.

“Need help gettin’ there, gypsy?” he grunted, powering up faster.

She didn’t answer.

Her head fell back, her tits pressed into his chest as her spine arced, and he felt her cunt ripple around his dick as she let out a soft breath with her orgasm.

He got her there.

So Deke plunged fast and deep, taking himself there with her, shooting into the condom, into his gypsy, his face buried between her tits.

Spectacular.

When he came down, she had the fingers of both hands laced together through his hair cupping his head.

He tipped it back and she dropped hers down.

He took his time kissing her, wet and deep, and she gave him her mouth for as long as he wanted it.

Eventually, Deke broke the kiss, slid a hand down to her ass and gave it a squeeze.

She got the message and climbed off him.

He angled off the bed, dealt with the condom and went back to her.

She curled in immediately while he pulled the covers over them.

“Back to the trailer tomorrow, babe,” he murmured. “That’s for the foreseeable future. Gonna be breathin’ in paint fumes all day. Don’t wanna do that at night.”

“Good, I miss the trailer,” she mumbled.

He could tell by her voice she was sleepy and he liked that she fucked, she got into it, she did it hard, no inhibitions, and she liked closeness after but didn’t need to spend an hour on a run down blow by blow of their fucking, their day or any other crap that didn’t require useless conversation in an effort to pretend it was sharing leading to closeness.

They’d already been close, that being fucking, and were going to remain close, that being sleeping together after fucking.

Justice got that.

She just, like always, got on with shit.

Now, since it was late, that shit was sleep.

And she “missed the trailer.”

They’d been gone from it for two days.

Deke smiled into her hair.

“’Night, honey,” she muttered.

“’Night, Jussy,” he replied.

She snuggled deeper under him.

Within minutes, she was out.

It didn’t take long for Deke to follow her.

Chapter Fifteen

Crock-Pot

Justice

“Deke.”

It was a plea.

I didn’t know for what because I needed him to stop but I needed him not to stop.

Ever.

I’d never been afraid of an orgasm but the one Deke was building was threatening to tear me apart.

“Let go, Jussy,” he grunted.

“Baby,” I panted.

“Christ,” he growled and I distractedly heard the moist noises his cock made, sinking fast and deep into my pussy. “Your cunt. So goddamned tight. Let go, Jussy.”

I let go, chest dropping to the mattress, cheek to the pillow, arms stretching out in front of me and experienced the heady ecstasy of an orgasm tearing me apart.

Deke’s finger left my clit, his hand wrapped in my hair and he held it firm, driving me back into him as I climaxed and he kept thrusting, faster, harder.

My thighs quivered, my nipples dragged on the sheets, I whimpered and gasped as orgasm one was shoved out of the way so orgasm two could rocket through me as Deke kept powering inside me.