by V. Theia
He smelled good. Really damn good.
The hands resting on the table top fisted together suddenly, and he hauled in forced air.
Oh, yes. Breathtaking.
“Is that so?” did his voice sound rustier? Luxe could say she leaned in to hear him better over the bar noise and music, when in truth she could hear him fine and just wanted to inhale him again, to watch the way his eyes burned and dropped to half-mast.
“And that mouth. I could just eat it up. So jugoso.” Juicy.
A groan tore out of him. “Christ,” lowering his head, it was then that Luxe laughed and slid up onto her knees before she straddled his lap.
Power like Wonder-Woman flooded her.
His head came up, those sex eyes of his darkening to a richness she wanted to lap at, his sigh blew the wispy ends of her hair back. “What are you up to, Luxe? Are you wasted?”
“Not even.” Maybe some. She grinned, settling fully on his lap, her crotch touched his and they both seemed to moan at the same time, she linked hands around his thick neck.
Luxe didn’t try to stifle her chuckle at his discomfort.
“Mister kidnapper.”
“Grinder.” He corrected, bringing both of those meaty hands to her hips. Oh yeah, that felt good. She wriggled. He groaned and something began to poke between her legs.
“Nathan,” one measured swirl of her hips. “I can’t sleep with you. I just want you to know that upfront. You kidnapped me, that wouldn’t be right.”
“I detained you.”
“Tomato, zucchini.”
“It’s tomato tomhato, love.”
“Semantics.” Squished between the edge of the table at her back and a very hard man in front, she liked the position, how long had it been since she was in this very spot letting her hips torment some poor man? Oh, but he felt so incredibly good.
Luxe dropped her forehead to his shoulder, shuffled her hips forward directly over his cock. “You tied me up, Nathan, such a bad boy.” Ten million years ago in another life she would have fucked his brains out, she would have followed through with her dirty little teasing this once because she regretted not knowing how he fucked, would have broken her own teasing rule and had this man. But how could she when he’d done something very bad to her, though he looked repentant, didn’t he?, That would be wrong…. Right?
She couldn’t. She shouldn’t.
But oh…
“Luxe. Jesus. Baby. You need to stop that, you’re drunk and you don’t even like me, you’re going to regret this and hate me even more.”
“Am not.” maybe a little. “Besides….” she chuckled nuzzling his nose. “Who said liking you was a requirement?” She just had to taunt him with that. He felt good underneath her, so hard and strong, she just bet he’d throw her onto a bed and have his biker way with her, wouldn’t he? Rough. Steady. So fucking sure of what he wanted from her.
Not that she was going to.
“I can’t sleep with you,” she told him again, her mouth by his ear she gave it a little nip with her teeth.
Fingers on her hipbones tightened. There was something dirty and delightful about the way he handled her. Every trace of fingers was a command, as if she’d been placed on this earth to pleasure him.
“Have you done that before, tied a woman to a bed?” Eye to eye she shifted her body back and forth, he made a subtle uplift, even with her weight on top of him he could still move her easily, brushing his erection between her legs. Luxe’s eyes fluttered closed, rolling into the back of her head. Dios. “Have you, mister kidnapper?”
When he spoke, he sounded strained at the edges, Luxe chuckled again. She really shouldn’t let her urges out. Really.
Thirsty, she leaned over and grabbed her drink, draining the last few drops until there was nothing left in the bottom of the glass. Licking the tart lemon from her lips.
“Not like that, no.”
“What do you mean, you’ve tied women up for…” Oh…bondage. Sexy, sexy bondage. Naughty biker Nathan.
Heat bloomed in the apex of her thighs.
She forgot all about sitting on his cock, her knees resting on his powerfully strong thighs and her hand buried in the nape of his hair under his hat, she was barely blinking, her breath coming in short excited pants. “You have…Really?”
“Haven’t you?”
Blink. Blink.
“No. You were the first one. Can’t say I was a fan of it.”
“Would you have liked it in different circumstances?” his thick voice scraped over Luxe’s skin, dragging desire like he had a little red cart of it he pulled everywhere with him.
She felt caressed by that voice, his breath fanning her face as she rocked on his lap.
Who was teasing who again?
“No,” she replied honestly. “I don’t like losing control. Dios, this feels good, doesn’t it, Nathan the kidnapper? So good. I could do this forever, use you like my own naughty slave for everything you did to me.”
He made a strangled noise and the fingers that dug into her hips hurt in a good way, he moved them to her ass, tunnelling his finger into her flesh, squeezing real hard, she was glad she had extra padding down there when he forced her to sit fully down on his cock poking her right there, if not for their clothes he would be shoved up inside her, he grunted and when she met his eyes she was in no doubt he wanted her.
Wanted her.
“You can if you want to. Use me, love. Take it all out on me, make me suffer for what I did, oh fuck, yeah. I’ll take it all, make you come as much as you want to.”
Blink. Blink.
Was her head swimming because she had a little alcohol buzz, or because of what he was offering her?
Use him…
CHAPTER EIGHT
“And he died of cocktease.” - Grinder’s epitaph.
Holy fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. There was no way Luxe wasn’t trying to kill him.
One death by erection coming up.
His face was one of horror and desire both. His head was going to explode. Dizzy, his cock full of blood drained with speed from his skull.
He felt like he was being punked but with a lot more grinding pussy involved.
The heat of her through her jeans, his jeans and Christ…the hotness radiating from between her thighs burned the top of his straining cock. The rushing of testosterone whipped through him until his bones shuddered.
Lips made for torture brushed his neck and his dick planned an assault to break free of his clothes.
Luxe’s next words near had the tip of his cock detonating. “I think I’d like feeling you move inside me. Using you so good.” Hips rocked on top of him, Grinder reminded himself to pull air into his lungs as his fingers tightened on the top of her thighs.
He was in hell. He was in heaven. He was about to die.
So fucking turned on he could hardly hear as she mewled more sex in his ear, bit the lobe and went to town back and forth. Goddamn jeans in the way, he wanted her naked on top of him rubbing her pleasure, taking everything out on him.
Having to really remind himself she was drunk, he didn’t take advantage of the inebriated, even those he wanted to fuck until New Year’s.
“You kidnapped me.” She accused in a voice void of sweetness.
Frogs in his throat. “Detained.”
“I should hate you.”
He cursed. “Make me pay, love.”
“I shouldn’t think you’re fucking handsome, sí?”
“You do?”
“Dios, sí.” She went into rapid Spanish he thought was so fucking hot he just wanted his dirty hands all over her giving her what she wanted, his cock inside her plowing her into madness and screams. “Feels so good, oh god, you feel amazing, so thick and perfect.”
Somewhere in the logical recess of his brain, that place full of fucking cobwebs, that he didn’t use, he knew she was tipsy, he’d watched her throwing back drinks like soda, just happy she was sitting with him, but she’d regre
t this tomorrow, he couldn’t drag enough energy to care when he was so goddamn hard and throbbing for her to keep going, to keep on rubbing her sweet covered pussy on his crotch like he was a bucking bronco and she was going for her eight seconds record.
“You’re so big and hard. I can feel you everywhere. I didn’t know you’d feel this good.” Her praise was ego boosting, and he loved it, loved hearing her talk about his body like she wanted to own it. His fingers clutched tight enough to leave bruises and that very same ego swelled right along with the big, hungry dick she was dry humping.
He swore around his pleasure, the curses swallowed up by the bar traffic. Just as well they were in public, in private he would have had her stripped naked already and licking her into sobbing his name. How the fuck were people going about their evening when he was a sweating, tortured mess just feet away from them?
“Luxe. Oh, fuck. Let me take you home,” Hands roamed his body, lifted the hem of his shirt and teased his abs. Grinder choked on his own eagerness. “Baby. Fuck.”
“Hard all over, aren’t you? Jesus, so many bumps.” Her voice was syrup. Thick fucking lust filled syrup dripping all over him. “I just want to lay you down and fuck you all night long, I bet you’d make it feel really good, wouldn’t you?”
He choked on his own spit. “I’d work damn hard to make it good.”
She made him pant like he was a thoroughbred in a race. It turned him on more that she didn’t seem to care how he reacted, or they were in a crowded bar as she rode his lap. “Press your hips harder, love, go at me like you’re trying to get at my cock through the denim, I’ll sit here and take it.”
She groaned into his ear, fingers clasped his hair tighter. “I am. Dios, I am. You make my pussy ache. I want to fuck.”
Oh shit. She might as well have called checkmate on his ass. “I’m beginning to think you’re a sexy little show-off.” He bit her shoulder. Her eyes fired for a second, everything between them stalled. Her forehead met his and she moved...slowly. So, goddamn slowly. Pumping. Pumping.
Grinder had no problem showing his appreciation for a beautiful woman, even a dirty rotten thief who didn’t deserve to know how badly affected he was just by her sweet scent., but she had him turned inside out, he couldn’t fucking think. The groan coming out of him was raw. He dipped his head down to draw his nose along the length of her cheek. “You smell good. Do you smell this good all over, Luxe?”
It was a one-two punch of arousal causing him to quit breathing and take his mouth to hers, panting against her lips. “Let me take care of that for you. I can, Luxe. I will. Until you don’t ache anymore, until you’re so wet with satisfaction you’ll forgive me.”
“I won’t ever forgive you, Nathan.” Her words slurred into one running amalgamation. “You took my freedom away from me, you don’t know but it’s something I value more than anything.” Breathy pants, she licked his bottom lip, nipping it hard with her teeth. She continued to rock and send him insane to fuck her, to just lay her down on the bench and get into her any way he could, fuck them being in a bar full of people, she had a need he wanted to take care of like her very own butler.
His heart constricted tighter than a boa.
He’d fucking screwed up, hadn’t he? One hasty decision and he wasn’t getting it back.
Knowing it already, what he’d done was unforgivable.
Fuck. It hurt.
“Then let me take care of you any way. I’ll slide my hand into your little panties and push inside your so-tight pussy, spread you open and finger-fuck you as thick and deep as you need, take all your hate out on me,” he offered. “When was the last time you were properly fucked, love?” she dragged in a breath, her eyes wild and just a little unfocused, hazy with lust. “Never is the answer,” He growled from his throat. “Because you haven’t been fucked by me, yet.”
Just desperate enough to accept anything to take away the taste of her in his mouth once and for all. To want a woman this bad for a year was enough of a tease in itself, to have her straddled on his lap pumping her sweet pussy on his crotch was agony.
She had to let him. She just had to.
Maybe he’d die and take care of the problem. He’d heard of sad bastards dying of coronary due to sex. He was thirty-four, and healthy as a horse, he worked out four times a week, more if he could and he didn’t do hard drugs, only a bit of weed to relax. He was anything but relaxed, his veins were strained to the maximum propelling the blood down to his dick. Was he in the right age band for a heart attack?
His death certificate would have her name for cause of death.
On and on, she rubbed herself, and made sexy little sounds up against his lips, kissing yet not kissing, he molded both hands on her ass, helped her out.
"You little fucking tease," the groan, on a garbled laugh by her ear, was dragged out of him, harder than he'd ever been in his long life, he was in danger of having his cock snap in half if he didn't free himself from the confines of the tight denim. Her mouth quirked at the edges with satisfaction and he had a need to lick her right there. "Do you enjoy being a little cock tease, love? To know I’d drop all my pride to do this, if there was a slither of hope I could fix what I did. Do you know how badly I’d have to want you to do that, Luxe, do you?"
She had the gall to laugh in his face, brushing sweet liquored air across his cheeks as her fingers danced along his chest and down, down, down until…fuckkkk... he reared up pushing his hips into her hand. Her face was analyzing his question. “Badly?”
Oh, yeah, she did, she was loving torturing him. “Yes. Do it then, free me up, I’ll do you right here, make you feel good won’t I? One come, two, three, I’ll make you forget how to speak English."
Why couldn’t she be as addicted as he was?
Fingers drifted out of his hair, traveled down between them and caught at his crotch so sudden Grinder went numb all over. He wanted to beg her for more, he had no fucking problem with that.
Her hand stopped right there, molding the shape of him and Grinder fell into the abyss, he didn’t even have his mouth on her and he was so far gone she could have done anything to him and he would have thanked her for it. “Finish what you started.” He pinned her with a starved stare.
And right then with her mouth right there in grabbing distance he watched her face pale, the color draining out of her.
“Nathan… I don’t…”
She heaved. Cheeks bulging out. And did it again. Her eyes glazed.
Oh, fuck. Oh, hell no. Shot out of a canon he was up out of the seat in one motion, Luxe in his arms. “Are you going to be sick, love? Hold on to me, don’t puke yet.” He marched through the crowd, not caring who he knocked into. Luxe was retching now into his shoulder, he could picture wearing her lemon scented vomit any second now if he didn’t get her into the bathroom.
Shoulder to door he barrelled in. Announcing loudly. “A dick coming through.” Three sets of startled female eyes over by the row of sinks turned his way, ready to protest no doubt until they saw he carried someone very sick, one of the woman, a helpful pint-size redhead said, “that stall is free.”
“Thanks, darling.” He told her, pushing the farthest one open, it was no bigger than a coffin, but he managed to get them both in, his shoulders brushing both sides of the wall at once. Luxe slid down out of his arms and got into the praying position, Grinder had a second to grab all her hair back in a fist before she unloaded the contents of her belly into the porcelain bowl.
“I’m dying,” she whimpered, dry heaving a handful of minutes later.
“I won’t let you.” Grinder caressed her nape with his free hand. “There you go, love, you get it all out, you’ll feel better.”
“I was poisoned. You saw, right? I was.”
Grinder grinned, kept on rubbing her neck, down her spine, when he guessed she was finished emptying her stomach he put his hands under armpits and lifted her easily to her feet. “I think those sour drinks got you. Let’s get you home.” Swaying unste
adily on her feet, she leaned heavily into his ribs. The gathering of women had grown and all eyes pointed at him, looking adoringly, as if helping a woman while she puked was the greatest thing they’d ever seen.
“Do you need to rinse your mouth, love?” Luxe only groaned and buried her head in his chest, his palm held her waist. That was a no then. Time to get the drunk home.
Only he didn’t know where that was. It was the kind of question friends would already know, as she’d stated they were not friends. Air filled his lungs, keeping an arm around her he directed her outside where the cooler air seemed to stagger her further. He should have cut off her drinking, only he’d wanted to spend time with her. He got them back to the street where he’d parked his bike. Shit, putting her on the back was a bad idea in her state. He found her keys in her backpack, hit the alarm button and headlights up ahead flashed on her car. Getting her into the passenger seat was a chore, she was all grabby hands.
“You smell good, Nathan Frazier the kidnapper.” Smiling he buckled her in. “You’re tying me again? Bastardo.”
“Only a seatbelt to get you home safely.“
Taking a minute to hit off a text to one of the prospects. Slider would come and collect his bike, dropping it off at his place. “I need an address to take you home, Luxe.”
“Jamie.”
The engine idled, he twisted her a look. “I’m staying at Jamie’s place.”
Jamie fucking Steele.
Well, wasn’t that decision made. Grinder was not delivering her to the Kingsmen president, no way no how.
Fuck that. And fuck Jamie fucking Steele.
“We’re not friends,” she mumbled snuggling down into the seat, he turned on the heat for her. “Not sleeping with you, kidnapper.”
“I know, love,” he replied, his chest feeling tight with regret.
And just when his cock was under control she flopped her hand across and gripped his thigh. Raging hard on.
She fell right to sleep and Grinder was left to drive her to his condo with his teeth grit together the entire journey.
