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What an odd question.
“Well, yeah. You’re not going to mug me are you?”
His face breaks into a grin, and I realize he’s got these amazing dimples. A biker with dimples. He’ll probably shoot me if I tell him how cute he is.
“No. But you were right. No quick fuck.” Another smile. Another peek at his dimples. Unreal. A couple seconds after shutting him down and he’s amused.
“Is that right?” My voice barely rises above the thumping in my chest.
He leans in closer, warm lips brushing against my ear. “Yeah.”
Desire shivers down my spine. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Zero
I’ve finally met my match. Not that the girls who hang out at my MC aren’t eager and willing. But holding an actual conversation with one can be rough. This girl. I almost want to talk to her as much as I want to fuck her.
Sex wins, but it’s close and that’s new for me.
Outside the bar, I reach over and take her hand without thinking. Dangerous move, maybe. She glances down at our intertwined fingers as if she’s as surprised as I am.
She directs me to her house with a series of taps against my shoulder and somehow I find the secluded, wooded driveway. “You live here all by yourself?” I ask as soon as I shut the bike down.
“Yeah, you’re safe,” she teases.
Lights flood the front yard. “Motion sensors,” she explains. “Don’t worry, my dad’s not waiting up for me or anything.”
“So this is your parent’s house?”
She cocks her head and drills me with a serious stare. “No. It’s mine. Bought and paid for it myself.”
This seems important to her, so I nod. “Cool. I respect that.” I do. I’ve worked hard for everything I have. Even if some of that work is outside the law. So I got respect for anyone who makes their own way.
Our feet crunch over the gravel drive. She’s walking slow and I glance over and catch her watching her feet. “I usually park closer to the porch,” she mutters. Shit, I hadn’t been thinking about her heels and the uneven ground.
“Sorry.” I pull her close and swing her up into my arms.
“Ahh!” she gasps and taps my chest. “Put me down.”
“No way. This’ll be quicker.”
“Eager, huh?”
“Fuck yes.”
When my foot hits her bottom step, I loosen my hold, allowing her to slide down my body in the most seductive way possible. She lands on the next step but keeps her arms looped around my neck, so we’re nose to nose. “You’re charming for a biker thug.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea.”
“I already have a lot of wrong ideas.” She swoops in and presses her lips against mine. For a second I’m too surprised to respond. Not used to chicks makin’ the first move. My hands move first. Sliding right down her tight curves to squeeze her ass and pull her tight to me. She gasps and I use her surprise to take her mouth hard and urgent. After letting me have my way with her lips and tongue, she throws her head back, inviting me to taste her skin.
“You do this a lot don’t you?” she asks, breaking my concentration. “I bet the girls take one look at you and can’t drop their panties fast enough.” Her husky, raw voice fuzzes my brain so bad it takes a second for her words to sink in.
“You want me to ask the same question, sugar?” My voice has an edge to it—a mix of pissed off and turned the fuck on.
“Go ahead.” She grins as if she thinks she’s gonna beat me at some game.
“Shut up,” I say instead and her smile widens. She’s beautiful and cocky enough to make me think stupid things. My fingers twist into all her think long, hair, pulling her against me for another taste of her mouth. Why’d her assumption bother me so much? Because it’s true or because I want more than one night out of her? This time, I can’t pry myself away. Eager soft hands slide under my cut, slipping it down my shoulders. She pulls away to examine the leather.
“It’s heavier than I thought,” she whispers while tracing her fingers over the back patch. “Skull and crown. Oddly pretty.” She folds it gently over her arm and leads me to her porch swing. She pushes me down into the swing, and it’s strangely reminiscent of getting a lap dance. Except, I can touch her. So I do.
My hands skim up her sleek legs right up under her dress. When my thumbs brush against the skinny string at her hip, I yank hard snapping it, and tearing the underwear from her.
Her husky laughter fills the air teasing my dick. “You owe me a pair of panties now.”
“I’ll happily pay up.” My fingers seek and stroke against her slick, bare skin and she hisses. I can’t help but lean and kiss the area I’m touching. She gasps and twists her fingers in my hair.
Suddenly, I’m consumed with the need to see every inch of her body. Take my time. Explore and savor this woman. I’ve had enough quick, sweaty, anonymous hook-ups in the dark. “Let’s go inside.”
“It’s fun on the porch swing.” She steps back and slides her hands over her dress, putting everything in place. Well, everything but the panties I ripped off. Will it be too creepy of me to stuff them in my pocket and keep ‘em as a trophy?
“I’m sure it is, but I’m not into getting mosquito bites on my balls.”
That makes her laugh and back up a step. I use the space to push out of the swing and wrap my arms around her, lifting her against me.
At the door, she leans down and pushes it open.
“Don’t you lock that?”
“No one locks their doors out here.”
I shake my head. But I’ll have to address her security needs later.
I twist the lock behind us before carrying her farther into the house.
Lilly
“Bedroom?”
“Guess,” I tease and he groans.
His hand squeezes my ass and I almost wriggle out of his hold. “Careful, I don’t want to drop you, sugar.”
“I know you won’t.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He has to be the most ridiculous combination of sexy, dangerous and impish, I’ve ever met.
Maybe one night with him is a bad idea. Except I can’t possibly see there being anything else between us.
When he reaches my room, he sets me down next to my bed gently. Before I make another move, he tucks his finger under my chin and tips my head up to meet his winter-blue eyes. “You sure you still want this?”
“Be more specific.”
His mouth twists into a wry smile. “You sure you still want my cock?”
“Oh, yes. You’re not getting away now.”
He grins even wider and slides his finger down my neck, over my collarbone to the edge of my dress. “Take this off.”
Our eyes lock as I reach behind me to pull the zipper down and lower the dress. He doesn’t back up even an inch, so I end up letting it drop to the floor and kicking it to the side.
“Keep going,” he growls, just loud enough for me to make out the words.
“Not fair.”
“Who said this was going to be fair?” His words are cocky, but his breathing has picked up.
I thrust my chin at him and cross my arms over my chest to stop the trembling. Guys don’t usually make me nervous. “Lose the shirt.” The words come out with more confidence than I’m actually feeling.
“I knew you were going to be fun,” he mutters as he slips his T-shirt over his head and tosses it on top of my discarded dress. Oh, Jesus, that’s nice. He’s big. Everywhere. Rough, tattoos flowing over every inch of skin. Beautiful, intricate pieces of art that must have taken many hours to complete. He’d be intimidating except for the smile and dimples.
I raise an eyebrow and he chuckles. His hands work his belt loose, shoving his jeans down his legs. He falters for a second while he works his boots off, then pushes everything to the side.
