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“No, it’s really sweet. Thank you.”

He raises an eyebrow at me.

“You want me to make it, now?” I ask him with a laugh.

“Well, yeah. You told me it was the greatest thing ever. I gotta see if it lives up to the hype.”

This is getting weird quick. Z and I fuck. We don’t sit around sipping hot chocolate together.

“Okay.” Rolling up m

y sweater sleeves, I get to work. I pull out a small saucepan, my favorite whisk, and a half-gallon of milk.

I don’t bother measuring anything out. I know from memory just how much of each ingredient to use.

Z’s quiet while he watches me whisk the milk and powder together over low heat. “The key is to constantly stir the milk so it doesn’t burn,” I tell him over my shoulder to break the silence.

“See, I would never know that. I would have jacked the fire up and set the milk to boil.”

I chuckle because I can picture him doing exactly that.

Taking down my favorite cocoa mugs, I stifle a laugh. Z’s going to think I’m nuts.

At first he doesn’t notice but then he tips one mug to the side.

“Remington?”

I chuckle, a high-pitched sound that splits my ears. Why am I so nervous around him tonight? “They were a house-warming present from my brother. For situations just like this. You know, if I had a guy over, he’d find out quick that I’ve got a shotgun and a big brother.”

Z throws his head back and laughs. “Yeah, I bet he’s got a shovel too.” He stops and looks at me a little more seriously. “He wouldn’t like me at all, would he?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Anyway, joke’s on him. They’re perfect cocoa mugs, ‘cause they’re so big and weighted just right. I use them all the time even though they’re ugly as shit.”

He chuckles as he watches me pour hot chocolate into each mug.

“No marshmallows?”

I wrinkle my nose at him. “Nope. Sorry.” Stretching up on tiptoes, I snag a bottle out of the cabinet where I stash my liquor. “How about marshmallow vodka?”

His nose actually wrinkles. “Sounds a little girly.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Oh, all right. Hit me,” he asks, holding out his mug.

After taking a sip, he glances at me. “Not bad, Lilly, you’re always so clever.”

I hate how much the compliment excites me. But it does. I’m used to men complimenting my looks. More specifically my boobs. But few men ever comment on my intellect.

Z does. And it’s not the first time, either. He’s sincere too, which I appreciate. It’s not like he has to sweet-talk his way into my bed.

Let’s face it, the man has an all-access pass.

That thick dark hair of his just begs to have my fingers run through it. His eyes are especially stunning. Mischievous midnight blue is the best way to describe them.

He smiles, softening his dangerous good looks.

“I like when you smile,” I say softly.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you’ve got these cute little dimples.” I tap his cheek to emphasize my point, and as I’m pulling away, he captures my hand.

“Cute?”

The feel of his strong hand wrapped around mine sends electrifying sensations through me. Gazing into his dark blue eyes, I’m struck by how much I really like Z.

“I like cute, but I also like big, dangerous, and powerful.”

“Am I those things too?”

“Yes.”

His eyes simmer with heat, and I use my free hand to stroke his raspy cheek. He leans in and brushes his mouth against mine. So gentle for a man who looks so demanding. Releasing my hand, he wraps his arms around my body, pulling me tight against him.

He growls when I flick my tongue against his lips and deepens our kiss. The taste of chocolate is sweet as he glides his tongue into my mouth.

Zero

Normally I’m not into being some good girl’s bad boy experience. But despite all appearances, Lilly has never pretended to be a good girl.

Still, the fact that she finds me so dark and dangerous strokes my giant biker ego in all the right spots. Her luscious curves pressed tight against me are an extra bonus. My hands roam down to run over her perfectly round ass.

Pulling away, I take in her heavy-lidded expression. Just because I know where this night is headed, doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy the journey.

My gaze skips down to her dark green sweater. It sets off her almost-black hair and brings out the green and gold flecks in her dark brown eyes.

“You look pretty tonight.”

She arches an eyebrow at me. “What?” I ask. Most girls like compliments, but you can never tell with Lilly.

“Nothing, my mother was annoyed because I didn’t dress up nicer.”

Stepping back, I take in her outfit more carefully. Soft, fuzzy sweater, tight enough to accent her generous curves but loose enough to still be acceptable for a night with the family. Dark jeans and low-heeled boots. Small gold earrings glitter in the kitchen light when she tosses her head back. I’m not sure what Lilly’s mother expected, but I certainly like what the sexy girl in my arms has goin’ on.

“Well, I like it,” I say as my hands find their way to her cheeks, my thumbs stroking along her jaw.

“Are you planning to spend the night?” she asks.

“Are you inviting me to, or are you going to kick me out after you get yours?” I say it as a tease, but that’s been the way it’s gone down the last few times.

Color races up her neck into her cheeks. I had no idea Lilly was even capable of blushing.

“You can stay.”

I pull her tight again and grind my hips against hers, so she knows how much I want her. “Good, ‘cause I want to fuck you more than once.”

“So ambitious.”

Lilly

A couple kisses from Z and I’m toast. Done.

I try sucking in a breath, but it’s futile. He has me pinned against the counter. The warmth and hardness of his wonderful, muscular body sends my heart thumping wildly. His thick arms have me held captive and my panties are fucking soaked.

The heat this man stirs up inside of me is ridiculous.

And I just agreed to let him spend the night.

His face moves closer and he nuzzles my neck. His raspy cheek is rough against my skin and I love the feel. His lips brush against me, sending tingles dancing through me. Ah, God, his teeth nibbling at my ear lobe is going to be my undoing.

A soft sigh of pleasure escapes my lips and I sag against the counter for support. Too weak to even hold myself up under his sensual assault.

He chuckles against my ear. “I remember what you like, sexy girl.”

Yes, he does.

His big, rough hands skim down my sides, then sneak under my sweater. “Should I undress you right here?”

He tickles my ribs but instead of laughing it makes me moan.

“Would you like me to fuck you hard and fast on your counter?”

Both hands are under my sweater but they stop just under my breasts. I make a needy pleading noise and arch my back, wanting his hands.

“Or, I could take you over to your couch. Bend you over the back and take you from behind.” He punctuates the dirty image by thrusting his hips against me.

I can’t take any more. I wrap my arms around his neck and tilt my head to the side, kissing him to get him to shut up. My hands stroke down his broad shoulders, over his chest, skip down over the bumps of his abs, finally landing on the impressive bulge in his jeans.

“I’ll leave it up to you.” I squeeze his dick just a little, so he remembers what it feels like to have my hands on him.

“I don’t even know where to start, Lilly. That’s how fucking nuts you make me.”

It’s a sweet sentiment. A little filthy too. I could get used to this sweeter side of Z. I already like his filthy side.

His lips glide over my jaw and take my mouth again. My body won’t stop trembling while his hands slide down over my ass again, this time pulling me up and into him. He breaks our kiss long enough to look in my eyes. “Wrap your legs around me, girl.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes. You. Can. Do it. I got you.”

Keeping his hands under my ass he carries us into my bedroom and tosses me on my bed. It’s messy and unmade, but it’s not like

Z has ever invited me to see his room at the clubhouse, so I really don’t give a shit.

I prop myself up on my elbows to admire him. “Take your shirt off.”

He grins an irresistible flash of dimples, then slowly works his shirt off.

“Fuck,” I groan.

A slower smile spreads over his face. “You like that, huh?”

Sinking my teeth into my lower lip, I can only nod. Why do I only seriously date older men again?

Money. Security. But none of that seems important as I gaze at Z’s perfectly chiseled and tattooed body posing before me. Yes, he’s a cocky fucker, but he’s earned it. He looks damn good and I don’t blame him one bit for being proud of it.

He unzips his pants and steps out of them. “Why are you still dressed?”

Kneeling up on the bed, I pull my sweater over my head and toss it at him.

“That’s better. God damn your tits are perfect.” He reaches to run a finger over my black, see-through bra, pausing to tease my nipples into hard points. “Fuck, that’s sexy. Were you planning to get fucked tonight?” he asks with a bit of an edge to his voice.

Narrowing my eyes, I brush his hand off me. “What kind of question is that?”

He thrusts his chin at me. “The sexy underwear.”

A soft chuckle escapes me. “That’s all I own.”

“Fuck.”

“No granny panties in my drawers.” I continue provoking him.

He lets out a strangled groan, while rubbing his hand over his neck and jaw. His gaze is glued to my body and a surge of feminine pride zips through me.

Hooking my thumbs under the straps of my bra, I tease them on and off my shoulders. “This is tame.”

“Lilly,” he warns before diving onto the mattress with me. He’s all business as his hand go straight for the button on my jeans. He tugs and jerks the material down my legs, then tosses them on the floor. A conflicted look crosses his face.

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