1930s Chicago. Notorious gangster Tom "Tommy Gun" Holland has been storming his way through Cook County, robbing banks and breaking hearts. One day you find yourself in the wrong place, at the wrong time when he makes a hit on your bank. There's...
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"Let's rest for a bit," Tommy said coming to a stop by a river bank. He dismounted then helped you down. Your inner thighs and behind felt stretched and sore from the long ride. You imagined you'll be feeling it ten fold after Tommy is through with you.
"Where are we?" you asked, shielding your eyes from the sun. You scanned the riverbed for any boats or houses but all you saw were trees and fowl.
"About an hour outside South Bend," Tommy answered, watching the horse drink in river water.
"You took us across state lines? Doesn't that make you a felon?" You paced back and forth in front of him, trying to get the feeling back in your legs.
Tommy's eyes followed you with an amused purse to his lips. He seemed surprised you would know such a thing. You ain't stupid. Just maybe not as smart as him. But if he was so smart, why would he carry stolen money to Indiana?
"I was a felon long before I met you, doll," he said somewhat proudly. Suppose that's an achievement of sorts.
You bounced up and down, bending your knees and kicking your legs out. The feeling was starting to return. Tommy seemed entranced by your buoyant breasts. Must be working that snake charmer magic again.
"My first armed robbery took care of that," he said slowly, watching everything jiggle.
You suddenly stopped and his eyes locked on yours. You tilted your head with a sultry smile.
"Tell me about your first time, Tommy," you cooed, coming closer to him.
He shook his head and chuckled at you.
"Later," he said, pulling you closer by the waist. His eyes held a gentleness you've never seen before. It didn't quite fit him, like he was wearing a disguise. He always seemed to be frowning or grumbling about something, but in this moment, you could wager he was actually happy.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked barely a whisper. Your lips were nearly touching his. Your fingers laced around his neck, playfully twirling the strands of his hair. You wondered if this fine gentleman would be just as good in bed as the handsome devil. Something in your gut told you yes. Or maybe it was your heart. You got them two confused sometimes.
He didn't answer but just kissed you ferociously. Your fingers wandered into his thick curls for a handful as his hands slid down your rear for handful of their own. So much for the fine gentleman. Your handsome devil only knew fire and fury and faster and harder. You weren't complaining . Not like you were going to Sunday school.
He pried his lips from yours and that serious, scowling face started to return. Well, that was fun while it lasted.
"Can you keep a secret, dollface?" he asked holding your gaze. Those eyes were back to being distant and dangerous.
"You mean like where you can find the Midwest's most notorious bank robber this very minute?" you said with a sassy smirk on your lips.
"You've got a mouth on you, Di," Tommy said grabbing your chin.
"You had no problem with my mouth last night," you purred. His eyes narrowed and fingers dug into your cheek, threateningly. You weren't scared of him. Probably thought he could keep you in check. Boy, was he mistaken. He lost that game of power play the second he slipped inside of you.
Your hand flew to his groin, grabbing him roughly. He gasped and looked down. You gave a little painful twist and his grip on your face loosened. You kissed him hard enough to make him stumble back. You laughed into his mouth and gnawed on his bottom lip. He grunted when you bit down drawing blood, but Handsome wanted it rough, so he was going to get it rough. And he sure as hell liked it rough, or Tommy's trousers were telling lies.
His groping dukes went back to you rear, fumbling under your dress, tugging at your underwear.
"Take these off," he ordered you in a commanding tone that made any constriction around your lady parts unbearable anyway. You did as he said, but not because he told you to, but because you wanted to. There's a difference. And oh boy, did you want to.
Tommy bent down and lifted you with graceful ease. You clung to his neck, hungrily kissing all over his lips and throat. He pushed you up against a nearby tree, clawing at the heated flesh he held. You squeezed his waist, holding yourself in place. Your thighs gave a little scream. This was the second beast to be in between them today.
Tommy shoved his probing fingers inside you, eliciting a loud whimper from your lips. There was an impatience with this one. Always a sense of urgency when it came to your passion play. If the need was great, it had to be sated right there. But time was of the essence and there wasn't room for romance or adoration. Just primal instincts. Take what you want and keep moving.
Tommy smashed you into the tree, ripping at your clothes and nibbling at your skin. He was furious with each thrust, barely giving you time to catch your breath from the last. It didn't take long. It never took long. Sinners don't get that luxury. No rest for the wicked, right?
"Harder, Tommy!" you moaned loudly. You clutched his collar desperately needing that pistol of his to pump you deeper. Tommy gripped your hips with a sweat beaded sneer and pummeled your pulsing parts with savagery.
"That's it! That's it! That's it!" you panted in his face as he drove you right over that edge. You arched yourself off the tree, clawing at his neck.
"Your fucking nails, Di!" Tommy hissed at you. You laughed and dug them in deeper. His brow was furrowed in pain and he glared at you. You clenched and released that wonderful weapon of his with your walls. His face slowly transformed into nothing short elation. He buried his face in your neck and groaned as he unloaded in you.
You slowly slipped down the tree as his hold on you loosened. He arm rested against the trunk a few inches above your head. You could smell the pungent musk coming off of him. It made you feel territorial of him. You'd like to see some dame just try to get her hands on him. She'd get a taste of your pretty iron.
Tommy leaned his forehead against arm, catching his breath. You ducked under him and retrieved your panties, sliding them back on. He finally turned around and started to pull himself together. He ran a hand down his sweaty face and fastened his trousers with the fatigue of a man who just ran to St. Louis and back. Truth be told, you delighted in this effect you had on him. He always took what he wanted, but so could you.
Tommy peered at you through his droopy curls, standing up straight.
"What you said back there," he motioned to the road behind you, another state, another chase. "After the coppers and the gunfire at the diner," he continued, smoothing his hair back. You listened closely. He seemed to be getting to some point but having a hard time finding the words. That wasn't like him. "And you laughed and you said, well..., you said," he put his hands in his pockets and glanced at his feet, leaning back on his heels.
"I know what I said," you smiled slowly, throwing him a bone.
"Right, well, I..." he rubbed the back of his neck and frowned in frustration at himself. He gave a big grumbly sigh and marched over to grab the horse. He climbed atop and bristly motioned to you to join him.
You settled in behind him and held onto that delicious torso once more. He turned his head and glanced at you and you noticed that gentleness reappeared. His eyes studied your face for a second. There was whole lot going on behind those brown orbs. You don't think you'd ever learn the half of.
Tommy gripped the reins and cocked a half grin at you.
