by Lilly Atlas
Her heart skipped a beat, and she had to glance away. Wow. The intensity of that gaze nearly burned her. She peeked again, this time out of the corner of her eye while directing her head away from him.
He hadn’t so much as twitched. Those two blue orbs zeroed straight in on her. She swore lasers shot from them, warming her skin to the point of flushed. Swallowing another sizable mouthful, she faced the bar once again. The view wasn’t as good, but at least she could stealthily spy on him through the mirror without him being aware.
The man was downright delicious. Not only did he have eyes that made her swoon, but he filled out that dress shirt with some serious muscle. He’d skipped a tie, or had already taken it off, and the top button of his crisply pressed gray shirt was open as though he’d shed his professional persona and was ready to kick back for the night. He wasn’t a regular, she was there often enough to know the usual crowd. Something about the man was familiar, but she was near ninety-five percent certain she’d never seen him before, which was a requirement for her one-offs, but without knowing a damn thing about the man, she could sense the raw visceral power radiating from him.
Which made him an automatic no. Too risky. That kind of animal would never allow her the control she required. And she couldn’t even fathom being alone in a room with a man who wouldn’t give her control, let alone naked with one who possessed five times the strength she did.
Unable to redirect herself, she continued to trail her gaze upward over his thick neck. Then came the five o-clock shadow that looked just scratchy enough to elicit a round of shivers as it brushed against naked skin. That dark stubble covered a strong jaw and framed firm, smooth lips. And finally, back to those blue eyes that were…staring straight into hers in the mirror.
Shit!
He’d known she was eye-fucking him all along. His face seemed too severe for a true smile, but one corner of his mouth twitched, letting her know he was at least somewhat amused by the situation.
Stuck like a deer caught in high beams, she was unable to tear her focus away. Even when he rose, keeping eye contact through the mirror, and ambled his way toward the bar.
Shit. Double shit.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose to attention and the temperature in the bar shot up by at least ten degrees. Chloe tugged at the suddenly constricting neckline of her dress. Didn’t the place have some kind of air circulation? And what was with her deodorant? Clearly it wasn’t made for this woman.
Blue-eyes stalked straight toward her, oblivious to the appreciative glances women threw his way. Of course, they looked and admired. The man had that potent mix of power and beauty with an air danger. He was magnetic.
Without asking if the seat was taken or issuing some kind of cheesy pickup line, he parked himself on the empty stool next to her. Chloe swallowed around her dry throat then lifted her drink to her lips only to discover an empty glass.
“Another?” Blue-eyes said.
Before she thought the better of it, she nodded.
Shit.
One drink was all she ever allowed herself. She nursed it for hours if necessary, until she was ready to leave. Sliding into tipsy territory was far too hazardous. Being tipsy meant feeling comfortable, friendly, hell, even amorous. It led to letting down her guard and that could be a fatal mistake.
No, she needed to remain in control each and every minute of the night.
The man lifted his hand toward Rich, then motioned to her drink. Two minutes later, eyebrow arched in question, the bartender slash friend of sorts slid a second drink her way.
She gave Rich as reassuring a smile as she could. His eyes flicked toward the entrance where a muscle-bound bouncer sat checking identification. Chloe gave a subtle shake of her head.
Wasn’t necessary. Blue-eyes hadn’t done a single thing wrong or creepy. Hell, he hadn’t done anything. Just ordered her a second drink, something men did for women every night in bars all across the world. Having him tossed out on his ass would be quite the overreaction.
Rich just shrugged, sent the man a chilly look, then moved on to the next patron.
Chloe blew out a breath. Just because he’d bought her a drink didn’t mean she had to drink it or choose him as her companion for the evening.
Steeling her spine, she faced him only to find a slight smirk on his full lips. Damn, why couldn’t he be a hideous ogre? She cleared her throat and lifted the glass. “Thank you, uh…”
“Logan,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice washing over her like a warm wave.
“Thank you, Logan.” Shit. Why the hell had she acted as though she wanted his name? Learning his name wasn’t necessary. In fact, it was a hinderance to the evening’s goal.
He lifted his own drink, scotch if she had to guess, and tapped it against her glass. “And thank you for not having the bouncer haul me out to the parking lot.” His expression remained serious, but there was a teasing quality to his statement.
A shaky laugh escaped her. So, he was observant as well as sexy. “You from around here?” she asked, then immediately wished she could take the words back. They were part of her well-practiced spiel. The script she used when choosing a partner for the night. Since she’d already ruled him out, she needed to take a different path.
“No. Just in town for the weekend.” He didn’t offer anything beyond that. Usually the men she spoke with enjoyed talking about themselves and why they were visiting the area.
A quick peek at his left hand reveled a naked ring finger devoid of tan lines. A good indication he wasn’t married.
You’re not picking him.
“You?”
“Huh?” Why did he have to smell so good? Not cologne as most of the men she met wore. Hell, she could pretty much tell them all with a single sniff by now. No, this guy smelled, clean, fresh, with an undertone of…sawdust? Interesting, unexpected, and masculine as hell.
“You live here?”
Yes, yes. Say yes. If she did it would seal his fate. She’d never leave with him if he knew she lived nearby. “No. I had some business in the area. I’ll be heading out of town tomorrow morning.”
Shit. She sucked back half her drink in one gulp. So much for not drinking it. So much for not picking up this guy.
Double shit.
“You here alone?” He asked, his already sexy voice leaving no doubt as to his intent. They weren’t touching. Not even their knees had brushed though they faced each other. Yet somehow the heat of his body was already flowing its way into hers. Watching him trail a long finger around the rim of his glass, she shivered. Those hands would probably feel amazing…
What the fuck was wrong with her?
Even if she’d been planning to leave with him, he wouldn’t be touching her. The game didn’t work that way.
“Um, yeah. Just me.” God, she was losing her mind. She sucked down another gulp.
He looked her straight in the eye. “You got a room nearby?”
As though a puppeteer was controlling the movement of her head, her chin lifted then fell in a single nod.
“Wanna get out of here?” he asked.
Completely mesmerized by the play of his lips as he spoke, Chloe had the distinct impression he was a spider drawing her into his web, a complete reversal of her usual role.
Again, she nodded without even giving her head permission to move.
He stood and held a hand out to her. “Uber?”
Probably a smart idea. She’d had just enough to make her unsafe on the road. “Sure,” she croaked. As she stared at his outstretched hand, the magnitude of what she was agreeing to finally kicked in. She’d chosen this man for the night. Or maybe he’d chosen her. As that second option wasn’t acceptable, she went with the first.
She’d chosen him. That knowledge was an icy bucket of water, dousing some of the lusty spell he’d cast. Now she had to make sure he knew the rules of the game. “Wait,” she said, some of her usual confidence and authority making its way back. “I have some conditions
.”
He tilted his head. Clearly, Logan was a man of few words.
“I, uh…” Shit, where was her usual bravado and control? This was such a stupid idea. The man muddled her head too much to be safe. Why the hell couldn’t she kick him to the curb? As those captivating eyes stared at her, she straightened her shoulders. Fuck it. She needed an epic night and dominating this powerful man would be just that.
“We do this my way,” she said, stepping toward him. She didn’t have to try to inject a husky quality to her voice, it came naturally just being near him.
“Your way?”
“Yes,” she said, finally getting into the usual role. “My room, my show.” The familiar words settled her. “Before we leave you need to agree to fuck my way. That’s non-negotiable. If you can do that, we’ll go now. If not, I’ll keep searching for a man who’ll give me what I need.”
He stepped right into her personal space, his lips mere inches from her ear. Though she was tall, especially in her heels, he still had an inch or two on her. Immediately a barrage of lust and panic warred for dominance. Chloe clenched her fists and bit her lower lip to keep from whimpering, whether with need or fear she had no idea.
“Fuck your search. I’m exactly the man you need, baby.” His warm breath had shivers racing up and down her spine. “But sure, your room, your show.”
Holy shit. The man might not be overly verbal, but the words he did use got the job done. When he drew back, he was smiling the first real smile she’d seen from him and her knees weakened. With a wink, he turned and started for the exit.
Chloe stared at him for two seconds before tossing back what was left of her drink. Liquid courage.
As she followed him, her eyes fell to his perfectly rounded ass draped in a pair of fitted black slacks. Her nipples puckered.
Shit. This was bad.
CHAPTER FIVE
ROCKET HAD THROWN her off her game. That much was obvious by the slight tremor in her hand as she inserted the keycard into the hotel room door. Flustering her hadn’t been the plan. He wanted the authentic experience. Wanted to uncover exactly what she did with the other men who crossed this very threshold, but he just couldn’t help the primal pull to her that had him coming on strong.
Chloe was hands down the most gorgeous woman he’d seen in years, maybe even ever, all wrapped up in that tight as fuck dress. The damn thing wasn’t even overtly sexy. Nothing was on display, not her back, not her tits, hell, not even too much leg. But it molded to her length as though it’d been painted on, accentuating each and every curve and dip of her womanly body, and making a man’s mind think of nothing but what might be hiding underneath the slinky fabric. And the way that green looked against the waterfall of auburn hair cascading down her back?
Fuck, she had him practically thinking in poem.
Once she had the door open, she preceded him into the room. Without so much as a glance in his direction, she marched her pert behind straight to the dresser. “Clothes off. Lie on the bed. On your back.” The no nonsense tone was in complete contrast to the heat in her eyes and the subtle quiver he’d felt when he whispered in her ear just fifteen minutes earlier.
Now, it seemed as though she didn’t give a rat’s ass who owned the cock she was about to take. She was all business. The last thing Rocket would ever be described as was submissive. Yes, he’d spent much of his adult life obeying orders, but that was the nature of the military. And his job. Once he entered the private sector, he’d been given more freedom. Now, he only answered to one man and that was Copper, his MC’s president. He certainly never gave up control when fucking. But, curious to see where this was going, he complied.
After stripping out of the uncomfortably proper attire, he reclined against a stack of pillows and folded his arms behind his head. Chloe still hadn’t given him so much as a flicker of her attention. Back to him, she shimmied the tight dress up and over her ass, revealing two smooth globes separated by a ribbon of dark purple fabric. Next came a smooth, creamy back. That was all it took; his shaft rose thick and proud between his outstretched legs. For a split-second, he recalled what she’d been through and almost covered himself with a pillow, but clearly, she wanted to fuck. That was the entire reason they’d come to this middle of the road establishment.
Right?
Hips shifting back and forth, she drew the dress over her head and dropped it on the thin carpet next to her feet.
Her manicured fingers came around her back, unclasped the purple bra, and let it fall as well. Rocket’s mouth went dry while his cock twitched in anticipation of seeing her tits.
There was no seduction attempt, no carefully planned sexy reveal. Chloe spent a moment rummaging in the top dresser drawer, then spun without ceremony. On the smaller side, her breasts high and damn tasty looking. Something dangled from her hand, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her body to check what it was. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said as she started toward him.
Her steps faltered a second before her surprised gaze met his. “T-thank you.” It was as though she was realizing for the first time that the man in the room with her was an actual person who could think, feel, act, and speak. “Thank you,” she said. Still, she didn’t preen, sex up her walk, or stick those tits out farther. If it weren’t for her nudity he’d think she was getting ready to walk into a grocery store.
Rocket let his gaze wander her body for another moment. As he once again reached her tits, his mouth turned down. Her nipples, while gorgeous, were completely soft. Sure, the room was warm, but they were both buck ass naked and about to fuck. Shouldn’t she be a bit aroused even pre-foreplay? In the lounge, those green eyes had smoldered, small flecks of gold seeming to shimmer with lust. Now? She might as well have been sitting down to a business meeting.
The woman wasn’t remotely turned on.
Rocket wasn’t an idiot. He realized she might not get as wet as he was hard just by looking at his erect dick, but with the way she’d reacted to his clothed body in the bar, he’d expected something. Not this almost cold reception.
She walked toward him, hips and tits jiggling in time with her steps. Behind his head, he squeezed his fists to keep from pouncing on her. The need to know what she was playing at outweighed his physical ache.
Just barely.
When she reached him, she stopped next to the bed. “My room, my rules. Still good with that?”
He nodded.
“Okay, you don’t do anything unless I tell you. That includes touching. Understand?”
“Got it.” Damn that went against every instinct he possessed. Hell, he’d had the same conversation with women in the past only in reverse positions. He was a dominant guy, just his nature. Lying back and taking it wasn’t exactly his M.O. Still, the combination of curiosity and a raging hard-on had him agreeing.
Chloe bent forward slightly, and his brain completely fuzzed. Her nipple hung just two inches from his mouth. The woman was crazy if she thought he could resist a taste. Sneaking his tongue out, he circled the bud then sucked it into his mouth.
Hard.
She cried out and jerked back, stumbling away from the bed. “What the fuck?” she yelled.
Rocket leaned forward only to realize his wrist was circled by a metal cuff attached to the bed. He hadn’t even realized she’d touched his arm. One taste of her and his awareness went to shit. “What the fuck, indeed,” he said, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice as he jangled the cuff.
“I just explained the fucking rules to you,” Chloe said, running a trembling hand through her hair. “And you agreed to them. This was a bad idea,” she muttered more to herself than him. She might be flustered and nervous, but at least she wasn’t unaffected by him. Both nipples had tightened to stiff peaks and a red flush brightened her cheeks.
Whatever she was up to, she wasn’t accustomed to pleasure.
“I’ll behave,” he said.
She eyed him with a look of disbelief.
“Here
.” He held out his left wrist. “I assume you want to shackle this one too.”
Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth. “If this were any other weekend,” she grumbled as she stomped around the bed. Pointing a finger in his face, she said, “Next time you break the rules, I’m walking.”
“Understood.” He felt like a kid chastised by the principal.
Not sexy at all, yet with Chloe in the room, he had a feeling she could be covered from head to toe in sludge and he’d be hard as stone.
The click of the locking mechanism had him testing the strength of the handcuffs and bed rails. Not flimsy, but if he really wanted free, he could splinter the fucking wood slats in no time. “Now what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Now we fuck,” she said. It might as well have been, “now we vacuum” for all the heat behind it.
Chloe crossed the room, grabbed a few things from the dresser, then returned to the bed. Two seconds later, she straddled him. His cock wept at the mere feel of her silken thighs brushing his. Didn’t bode well for his staying power once he got in what he knew would be some prime pussy.
There wasn’t much he could do besides lie there and take what she dished out, so that’s exactly what he did. She sure as fuck was hot, sitting astride him with her shiny red hair flowing past her tits.
A tearing sound had him pulling his gaze from her hair to inspect her hands. Chloe was back to efficient, almost clinical actions as she removed a condom from its foil packet. Without so much as a caress, she rolled the latex down the length of his straining cock with as much enthusiasm as a kid in health class, learning on a banana. Hell, those horny teens were probably ten times as excited as Chloe right then.
Rocket was so busy clenching his jaw and trying not to blow at just the feel of her fingertips smoothing the condom in place, he almost missed the soft click and squirt that came next. Chloe squeezed a large glob of what he assumed was lube onto her hand then immediately slathered it on his suited-up cock. The moment her hands and the cool liquid hit his shaft—chilly even through the condom—he cursed.
