Bullet Proof: A MacKenzie Family Novella (The MacKenzie Family) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Kitten?"
    Fuck. He had her dead to rights there. She nodded.
    "Say it," he demanded.
    "I want it dirty and a little rough." God, she sounded as desperate as she felt. "Give it to me."
    She needed him to fill her up, make her come until her toes curled and she blacked out from pleasure. It wasn't a want. Somewhere it had crossed the line into can't-live-without-it territory and she was beyond shame or embarrassment or game playing.
    He tapped her ass with his cock again. "Not yet."
    "Taz, please." She almost collapsed onto the car in yearning frustration even as she kept looking over her shoulder at him.
    "Don't worry, Kitten. You'll get to come." He grabbed one of her ass cheeks and squeezed it, hard and unyielding, as he jerked his cock faster. "Because I love watching you come in my fantasy. Fuck...Bianca..." His body went rigid except for his hand moving so quickly it was a blur just as the first spray of come splashed onto her ass. "So fucking hot." Then a second and a third jetted out as he milked his cock, his lusty gaze never leaving her decorated ass.
    She couldn't look away either. Seeing the white streams on her skin as she circled her clit made her whole body quake. "I'm so close." Even when she stopped touching herself, she stayed on the edge.
    "Hold on, just another second." He scooped up some of the come with his finger and slipped it into her mouth.
    She didn't think. She didn't question. She just sucked the salty liquid off his finger, her tongue swirling around it like it was his dick.
    "That's it." He withdrew his finger, gathered more on the tip and brought it to her hungry mouth. "Come for me now."
    It was like a dam broke in her and she cried out in relief as she circled her clit with lightning speed as she sucked his finger dry. One. Two. Three—The wave crashed against her, the orgasm hitting hard and fast and leaving nothing in its wake. Her cry of ecstasy echoed off the concrete walls as she screamed his name. This might have started as his fantasy, but it had ended as hers.
    Resting her forehead on the Porsche's hood, she concentrated on catching her breath and not melting into a boneless mess onto the floor in the Devil's Dip Gym garage. Standing up was so not what she wanted, but considering how well the Porsche had been restored, she highly doubted he'd want her to curl up on it and go into a post-orgasm coma.
    Calling on all her reserves, she straightened and turned to face the man who had so thoroughly rocked her world without even fucking her. "That was amaz—" The rest of the word died on her tongue. Taz's eyes were so dilated that only a thin ring of green remained around the black pupil. "What are you on?"
    "I was about to ask you the same thing." He tucked his cock in his pants and zipped up. "I'm not going to tell you what to do with your life, but if you're serious about training at my gym you need to cut that shit. Now."
    What the hell? He'd driven while high and he was giving her a lecture? Now that was some bullshit. "I'm not on anything. I barely even drank any of the champagne at the Bisu; it just gave me something to hold on to. You must be so high you're seeing things."
    He grabbed her by the shoulders and marched her over to the passenger side door and pointed at the side mirror. "Take a look for yourself."
    Bending over, she looked at her reflection and her stomach bounced against the garage floor. Her eyes were a mirror copy of Taz's but with a thin line of brown instead of green around the pupil.
    Oh. Fuck.
    Looking at his reflection in the side mirror, Taz muttered something that sounded a lot like motherfucker. If he hadn't taken anything voluntarily and she hadn't, that left only one explanation.
    "They drugged us." The words tasted raw and ugly on her tongue.
    "How?" He shoved his hands through his curly hair. "I didn't have anything to drink or eat."
    The night's events raced through her mind. The doorman taking her coat. The waiters with trays of hors d'oeuvres and