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“Here, doll. You can’t ride barefoot.” Jag handed me the boots.
My jaw dropped. Jag was such a contradiction. Angry and snarling one second, sweet and thoughtful the next. I shoved my feet into the boots, which, of course, fit perfectly.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Jag swung a muscled thigh over the Ninja to straddle the sleek bike and pressed a button, opening the large rolling garage door. “Hop on, doll.”
Jag’s wicked grin had me rushing to comply. I shoved my helmet on my head and threw my leg over the seat. My thighs nestled against Jag’s ass and despite the thick denim between us, my body throbbed from the contact. I swear I could feel his intense heat radiating through the layers of fabric.
“Hold on tight!” The growl of the engine echoed in the garage. I wrapped my arms around Jag’s waist and pressed my palms against his washboard abs.
Jag cranked the throttle and the powerful machine darted out of the garage, flew down the drive, and shot onto the street. When Jag turned onto the main road, the bike tilted so far to the left, our knees nearly touched the ground. The exhilarating rush from the speed, the wind stinging my skin, the feeling of freedom, had me nearly weeping with joy.
I tightened my grip on Jag and clung to him as if he were the only thread tethering me to the ground as my mind and body soared. The bike picked up speed when we hit a straightaway and all I could think was, I hope this never ends.
Jag
I never should have taken Miri for that goddamn ride the other day. But how could I resist? She was so fucking sexy all greasy and spread out like an offering at the alter of my Suzuki. Who would have thought the tiny little thing with the big green eyes and full red lips was a motorcycle mechanic? And a damn good one at that.
Jesus, I was so screwed.
Fuck giving her the ride. I never should have taken Miri into my home, period, because now that I got a glimpse of who she really was, free from the heroin that was consuming her mind and body, I couldn’t seem to get enough of her. I wanted to be around Miri all the time—to bask in her light, her joy, her way of making every little thing in life seem exciting. What I once thought of as penance had become a punishment, dangling something in front of me I badly wanted, but didn’t deserve to have. But when did not deserving something ever stop me?
What was more shocking was that I had these thoughts even though I hadn’t had sex with Miri. It wasn’t as if I didn’t want to rip her clothes off, grab onto her naked body, and shove my cock deep inside her until she screamed. I remembered every second my fingers were inside that tight, wet heat—he ecstasy on her face as she came, the flush on her pale skin, and the way her lips parted on a gasp.
I’d wanted to fuck her ever since her first night here when she stuck her chin in the air, met my gaze head-on, and fearlessly stripped in the shower. It was the fact that I didn’t need to have sex with Miri to want to spend time with her that unbalanced me.
And holy fuck, did I want to have sex with her. Dirty, raw, wild, animalistic fucking and rutting. I imagined it a hundr
ed times over until my fantasy was perfected down to every individual frame of the motion picture playing in my head.
The first thing I would do would be to take hold of that innocent face, spin it toward the wall, and press Miri against the hard surface, holding her with a firm hand between her shoulder blades. I’d pin her sexy ass in place using the weight of my body, my hand gripping her hair to keep her cheek against the wall, pressing so hard she couldn’t move, not even an inch. Miri’s soft, seductive curves would fit against my solid bulk like two puzzle pieces as I thrust my hips forward, my rigid length nestling perfectly in the cleft of her tempting ass.
I’d watch her profile as those big green eyes widen and those goddamn thick, pink lips parted while she panted with desire. Miri would be so desperate to have me, she’d push that perky ass against my cock, all but begging me with her body to take her despite the rough way I manhandled her.
By then her pussy would be dripping wet and I wouldn’t be able to resist a taste of that sweetness. I’d slide a hand between those pale thighs and shove two fingers up inside her slick heat.
Jesus, Miri would be tight and burning hot. The sounds she would make as I pumped in and out of her would drive me close to losing control. Memories from the night I fingered her came flooding back. I remembered the way her muscles clenched, how her thighs squeezed mine as she came on my hand. I wouldn’t let her get off so easy this time. No, I’d torture the fuck out of that sexy little tease. Bring her to the edge and stop again and again, then force her to watch as I sucked every last bit of her sweet juices off my fingers.
Fuck, I wanted that. Getting my cock inside Miri was always somewhere in my conscious thoughts, every minute of every day. I hadn’t even reached the part of my fantasy where I drilled into that tight pussy and fucked her hard against the wall, and my dick was an iron bar in my pants. The daydreams I created about Miri both shocked and fascinated me.
Hell, everything about Miri shocked and fascinated me. My fucking Miri. My broken, sweet, sexy doll.
Which was why once again, I was catching shit from Milo, who really needed to learn to shut the fuck up. I was in the middle of my fantasy while sitting at my desk, when Milo suddenly showed up with disturbing news. It was important enough that I should have been listening to him, but my mind was still half-immersed in Miri’s pussy as my lieutenant spoke, and my restrained cock was beginning to hurt.
“Boss, you need to make a decision soon. El Cuchillo has something up his sleeve. I know it. All signs indicate he’s planning to make some sort of big move, and soon. The men we have monitoring his operation said activity around his properties has been way above normal, especially the last twenty-four hours.”
“I understand.” To distract myself from my persistent sexual fantasy, I yanked open my desk drawer and grabbed my coin. I threaded and flipped it over my knuckles while going over the different ways to approach the rival boss.
On one hand, the thought of another turf war made my blood run cold. The last time I struck out, there was a purpose for the violence. A reason to brutally destroy my predecessor and take over his territory. That reason was long gone, buried six feet under the ground. On the other hand, ignoring a building threat was a mistake I refused to make, but I wouldn’t take action without first making an attempt at a diplomatic solution.
“Set up a meeting with him. We’ll see what The Knife is up to… if he’s man enough to show up. Maybe whatever he’s doing is a bunch of bullshit that has nothing to do with us. Maybe he’s dealing in arms now. Hell, maybe he’s planning to take over Brick’s territory in Houston and it has nothing to do with us.”
“You sure, Boss? Meeting that lying bastard face-to-face can go bad fast. He’s a sneaky little shit, and if he succeeds in destroying Brick and expanding into Houston, he’ll be too powerful for us to stop,” Milo warned.
Milo wasn’t wrong to want to go in hard and fast with the element of surprise on our side. My rival wasn’t known for his negotiating skills or his ability to remain professional. Even us criminals have a code of honor. Not The Knife. If the stories about him are even half true, and I know for a fact some of them are, El Cuchillo might just be more ruthless than me, and seeing as I’d stab him in the groin and watch him screech just for looking at me funny, that makes him a very lethal dude.
“I’m sure you’re right, Milo, but I still want to try a meeting first. Let me know when it’s set up.” I dismissed Milo by placing my coin in my desk drawer. I stood and buttoned my suit jacket as I crossed to the locked exit while running my hand down the front to smooth the fabric into place. My cock, which was rock hard a few minutes ago, was now disinterested. All this talk of violence ruined my fun.
“But Boss—”
