My eyes snap open and lock on him, and with a stern tone, I say, “Make me.”
Chapter Eight
Rebel
Make her? That’s a challenge she shouldn’t have issued.
This was not how I thought my night was going to go. Staring down at this infuriating woman, seeing the lust in her eyes and smelling her arousal, as she continues to fuck her own hand.
She’s got some attitude. Knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it, by any means.
I was pissed as hell when I saw her come out of the bar with Cipher, that was bad enough, but when they started kissing, I lost all sense and said something I had no right saying.
I should have gone to the clubhouse and left them to it. The thought of him fucking her sent a spark of hot rage through my bloodstream. Cipher isn’t a bad guy, but in that moment I wanted to tear his head off, or smash his hands to smithereens, like the other fucker who touched her.
One bad choice after another has led me here, has me gripping her wrist to still her hand.
Fuck. This shouldn’t be happening. The last mistake with Raven’s friend isn’t going away.
“Let’s make one thing clear,” Kinsley says, tilting her head back to meet my eyes.
My only reply is to arch a brow, and a slight tightening of my fingers around her wrist. Not enough to hurt, but enough to tell her she needs to finish this thought.
“I don’t like you.”
“Is that supposed to hurt my feelings,” I ask, sliding one finger along the edge of her palm, towards her knuckles.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she says, then moans when I touch her clit with the tip of my finger.
There is no response from me because she’s right, it is just sex which we shouldn’t be having, but I’ll be damned if I let her go to the bar to grab another brother to satisfy whatever this itch is.
If I were a better man, I’d ask if she wants this or if she is using sex with a random person to deal with some internal conflict.
I’m not a better man, and whatever she is going through, she is holding tight inside. I won’t pry. If she wants to use me, I will not fall on any principles I don’t hold.
I push my knee between her legs, making her widen hers enough that I can get my thigh between them and push up against her hand, driving her fingers deeper inside her pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” her eyes roll and her head tips back, bumping against the wall.
My guess is she doesn’t want gentle. I’m an expert at not being gentle. In fact, it takes a certain woman to handle the things that get me off, which is why this will be a quick one-off fuck that settles whatever shit she has going on.
It startles her out of her lust-induced haze when I clamp her waist with both hands and drag her away from the wall. There isn’t much furniture in the room, making me pause while I decide where I want to put her. It won’t be the bedroom, that says too much.
Before I can choose between the table or back against the wall, Kinsley grabs my wrists and twists them out to the side, which hurts enough for me to scowl at her but nowhere near enough to subdue me. It also makes my dick fucking hard. She moves into me, thrusting my hands away and putting hers on my chest.
When she pushes, I make sure I’m not about to land on my ass on the floor and allow her to use her weight to move me, taking a couple of paces before dropping onto the cushioned chair she was aiming me at.
Kinsley is angry as hell that I’m nowhere near as bothered by hermanhandlingme, which she shows plain as day as she shoves her jeans down and steps out of them, kicking them off to the side.
Sitting the way I am now, I’m eye level with her pussy. She stands before me in a pair of little black panties. Her t-shirt is only waist length so when she reaches up a hand to brush away her hair, it lifts enough to show off the tight muscles of her abdomen. All the physical labor she does for her art is working for her.
I’m not judgmental of women and their bodies and am attracted to all kinds of women, but I’m wondering how rough Kinsley will go. How much she can take. I pull myself back from those thoughts. This will be fast, angry, and carnal for both of us.
Even though I would love to see her tits right now, she makes no move to take off her top. That’s fine by me. I’m not submissive, but I place my forearms on the armrests of the chair and look up at her, a challenge in my expression.
She could try to lord it over me, demand I undress for her, but she is too impatient to argue. She’s a woman who knows what she wants and bends over, dragging the zipper of my jeans down and spreading the sides apart. Kinsley lets out a low growl when she drags at the waistband, and I don’t move. Then I take pity on her and lift my hips so she can pull my jeans away enough to get at the goods.
It isn’t difficult given my dick is so hard it has its own damn heartbeat.
