Swagger and Sass

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Swagger and Sass Page 5

by Autumn Jones Lake


  His sensual lips curl into a panty-dropping smile. “I sure did, sugar.”

  Chapter Nine

  Rooster

  I’m rapidly becoming addicted to this girl.

  How could I not? She’s sweet as hell. Sassy sometimes. Shy other times. A whole bunch of contradictions I really enjoy.

  “Let me guess, you’re not coming back to the clubhouse with us tonight,” Jigsaw says, when I take my place at the table again.

  “Fuck off.” I’m really not in the mood to be ribbed by my brothers anymore tonight. I’d wanted to get to the diner earlier, but it’d been like herding turtles to get these guys on the road.

  “You realize we got plenty of ass back at the clubhouse, right?” Hammer asks. He’s a member of the Savage Dragons MC. If I’d known he was going to be so obnoxious, I wouldn’t have invited him along on this four club bonding activity Z suggested.

  Shelby returns to the table with four huge white pastry boxes and sets them in front of Sparky. “That’s everything I’ve got back there.”

  “Cool. Thanks, Shelbs.”

  “How’re you planning to get those back?” Ravage asks.

  Sparky shrugs. “We can each take one.”

  The guys at the end of the table rumble with laughter. “I’ll call a prospect down,” Blaise offers.

  I let them deal with the logistics of transporting Sparky’s munchies and go find Shelby.

  It seems like hours until she’s finally able to leave. Poor girl’s dead on her feet. “You sure you’re up for company?”

  “Yes. Unless you don’t want to…”

  “I want to,” I assure her. Can’t remember the last time I wanted a girl this much. “I’ll follow you home.”

  She nods, but before she slips into her car, I pull her to me and slam my mouth over hers. She gasps and wraps her arms around my neck, going up on her tiptoes to get closer to me. Pushing her back against her car, I lift her, so she’s at the perfect height. My hands slide up under her dress, gripping her ass.

  “I’m wide awake now,” she whispers.

  “Good.”

  I set her down and hold her door open, shutting it only after she’s safely tucked inside. She quickly rolls the window down. “You remember where it is in case we get separated?”

  “I’ll be right on your ass, don’t worry.”

  She reaches out and takes my hand for a brief second. “Okay.”

  The ride to her house has to be the longest fifteen minutes of my life.

  While she invited me over under the pretense of watching a movie, I never give her the chance to flick on the television.

  Once we’re inside, I pin her to the front door, lifting her the way I’d done in the parking lot. “You sure your mom won’t walk in on us again?”

  “Ninety-five percent sure.”

  “Good enough for me.”

  “Rooster?”

  “Yeah?” I slide her purse off her shoulder and drop it on the bench next to the door. After taking one more taste of her lips, I carry her to the bedroom.

  “Uh, remember I said I didn’t want to have sex earlier?”

  I stop cold right outside her bedroom door. “Uh-huh.”

  Her fingers twist in my hair. “Well, I, uh, kinda changed my mind.”

  “Jesus, woman. You trying to give me a heart attack?”

  She giggles and starts unbuttoning the top of her dress. I set her down and close her bedroom door. Thank fuck there’s a lock, because I flick that too. “Just in case.”

  She laughs some more and tosses her dress in the direction of an overflowing hamper. “Sorry for the mess.”

  “I couldn’t give a fuck. I’m only interested in you, Shelby.” My hungry eyes sweep over every exposed inch of her. Really digging the sexy black lace bra that gives me a glimpse of her sweet pink nipples. “God damn, you’re sexy.”

  “Thank you.” She curls her index finger, calling me to the bed. It’s a double bed. Small, but doable. Fuck, I think I’d fuck her on the floor right about now if that was my only option.

  She slides my cut off and gently places it on her desk. I like the way she knows to treat it with care and not just toss it aside.

  “Come here.” I cup her cheeks with my hands and lean down to take her lips. Her eager little hands slide up under my shirt, pushing it up. “Eager much?” I tease, taking it off and tossing it on the desk.

  “Yes. I’ve been turned on all afternoon. I thought I was going to explode when you swaggered into the diner tonight.”

  Shit, there’s something really sweet about that. No games or coy hesitation. But she’s not overly aggressive like a club girl on the prowl either.

  Her hands skim around the waistband of my jeans, and I work the belt loose.

  “Rooster?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s your name? Your real name,” she clarifies.

  “Who says it’s not Rooster?”

  She glances at the bed. “I just—”

  I get it. She doesn’t want to sleep with someone whose name she doesn’t know. Can’t remember the last girl I was with who gave a shit about stuff like that. “Logan. Logan Randall.”

  “Logan. I like that.”

  Stripped down to my boxer briefs now, I stretch out on her bed. “Come get your ride, little girl.”

  She laughs. “There’s nothing little about me.”

  “Next to me there is. Now get up here.” I sit up and grab her hand, dragging her onto the bed. She kneels next to me and traces her fingers down my chest.

  “Are you sure?”

  “About wanting that pretty pussy of yours in my face? Fuck yeah, I am.”

  She chuckles again. Really love the sound of her laugh.

  I hook my fingers in her little black panties. “Take these off for me.”

  She wiggles out of them and also stops to unhook her bra.

  “Fuck.” I scrub my hand over my face. “How are you even hotter than I remember?”

  Instead of answering, she grips my cock through my shorts. “I’m wondering if I imagined how big this monster really is.”

  “Go ahead and verify.”

  She works my briefs down my legs, and my cock springs up, excited to see her again.

  “Rooster,” she whispers, using both hands to stroke up and down my shaft. Leaning over, she takes me in her mouth, and my hips jerk.

  “Fuck.” My fingers tangle in her hair. This wasn’t quite how I saw things going, but I’m certainly not complaining.

  She keeps up the sweet torture until I’m ready to blow.

  “Stop. Stop. Get up here.”

  Chapter Ten

  Shelby

  I swipe my hand over my lips. “You taste good.” Maybe that’s a weird thing to say, but I can’t help it. Rooster doesn’t seem to mind.

  The intensity in his eyes ratchets up another notch. “Climb on up here.”

  The pleasure he’d given me earlier was so intense, that a tremor of fear runs through me. Not enough to turn him down. Just enough to make my heart beat faster.

  He guides me up over his chest. Flexing his sinfully sculpted arms, he lifts me until I’m hovering over his face. “That’s it. Come to me,” he encourages.

  The first touch of his tongue against my flesh is a jolt of electricity to my system. “Uh,” I gasp, my hips jerking forward.

  He hums an encouraging noise, and I brace my hands against the wall.

  After that, it’s game on. He’s completely focused on licking, kissing, and tasting every inch of me. Not just my core. He stops to take soft nibbles and licks of my inner thighs, my mound. No portion of me is left untouched. All my nerve endings fire up, leaving me trembling and close to orgasming again.

  “Rooster.” My voice comes out with a desperate, breathy urgency.

  He makes some encouraging noises that sound like come. Maybe I’m too wound up from today, but my orgasm remains just out of reach, no matter how much pressure he applies to my clit. Finally, he slips two fi
ngers inside me, and I shudder with relief. He keeps sucking at my clit while I grind myself against his face. His beard tickles my thighs, adding to the flood of sensations.

  “Rooster, I’m—” The rest of my words are lost to crying and moaning in relief. “Oh my God,” I mutter over and over.

  “Shelby,” he rasps, voice raw with desperation. “Need you on my dick, sugar.”

  “God yes.” I shimmy down his body, eager for more, then stop. “Do you have condoms?”

  He lifts up, and I admire the flex and ripple of his stomach muscles. “Jeans.”

  “Good, I don’t think the ones I have will fit you.”

  He falls back on the bed laughing as I snag the jeans and yank the little foil squares out of his pocket. I hand one to him, and he flips me on my back. After rolling the condom on, he kisses his way up my body, stopping to lick and nibble spots that make me writhe under him. Finally, he straddles my hips.

  I’m so wet and eager, I shamelessly spread my legs wide. Doesn’t stop him from teasing me by dragging his cock up and down my slit a few times.

  “Logan, please.”

  A shift of his hips lines us up perfectly. With agonizing slowness, he sinks inside. We fit together so right. A tight fit. But perfect. We both groan, and his lips meet mine. His hips keep rolling at that teasing, slow pace designed to drive me wild.

  Heat races over every exposed inch of my skin. He twines his fingers with mine and pulls my arms over my head. With one hand, he pins my wrists to the bed. He clutches my hip with his free hand and drives into me harder.

  I’ve never experienced anything like this before. There’s this amazing physical connection. But something else bubbles below all our explosive chemistry.

  My nerve endings tingle and sizzle. I’m close to going off again. He accelerates, hooking his arm behind my knee. “Fuck me back, Shelby,” he whispers against my lips.

  I buck against his thrusts and gasp at the swelling pleasure.

  “That’s a girl. Harder,” he encourages.

  He rams into me with such force, I’m sure I’ll splinter apart. At the last second, he captures my gaze. The steady eye contact pushes me over the edge again. He groans and thrusts harder, letting out a stream of beautiful curses as he explodes inside me.

  He keeps moving and groaning and finally slows his frantic movements. He drops his forehead to my chest and places a kiss between my breasts.

  “You’re unreal, Shelby,” he murmurs.

  Carefully, he holds the base of the condom and slips free. “Give me a second.”

  Too content to speak, I watch him go. After a minute, I jump up and use the bathroom. He’s returning from the kitchen with a glass of water when I open the door.

  “I was worried you left.”

  He scowls. “Not fucking likely.” He stays rooted to the spot, his gaze roaming over my nude body.

  “You’re more beautiful than I deserve.”

  I take the water and sip slowly before answering. “I doubt that.”

  “You all right with me staying?” He follows me back to my room.

  I scoot to the side of the bed against the wall to make room for him. “I’ll be offended if you don’t.”

  He snaps off the lamp on my nightstand and stretches out next to me. “Come here.”

  Our breaths mingle together, and within seconds, I’m out cold.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rooster

  Steady thumps and shouts pull me from sleep. Shelby’s soft, warm naked body is still sprawled out against me. I allow my hands to wander over her curves for a few seconds before noticing the ruckus outside again.

  What the fuck?

  Afraid whoever it is will wake her, I reach down and snatch up my jeans.

  “Rooster?” Her morning rough voice is sexy-as-fuck, and I’m ready to pin her down and fuck her speechless again.

  “I think someone’s at your door.”

  She wrinkles her nose and glances at the clock. “Shoot, I never set my alarm. I’m late.”

  “For?” I ask, letting the question hang.

  Again, she’s squirrelly about telling me her plans. Maybe she’s a stripper and she’s embarrassed? But I don’t get that vibe from her. Plus, she doesn’t seem to own anything with glitter or sequins on it.

  Tipsy Saddle. Isn’t that where one of the cops said she’d be tonight? Sounds like a bar. Maybe she’s a topless waitress? Certainly, has the tits for the job.

  Guys would be tripping over themselves to get at her.

  Fuck, the idea of beating guys off her heats my blood.

  The pounding on the front door starts up again. I stalk out to the living room and yank open the door.

  The douchebag I didn’t punch nearly enough yesterday, Brad, is on the other side. He recoils the second he sees me.

  “Where’s Shelby?”

  “Not your concern.”

  “Brad?” Shelby yells. “What are you doing here?”

  “You fucking slut! Took me two months to pry open your legs, but you’re fucking this guy—”

  I cut off his insults by wrapping a hand around his neck, choking off his air supply. “Say one more word to her, and I’ll snap your motherfucking head off. We clear?”

  He nods once and gasps. His hands claw at my arm, but I’m not done.

  “You two are over. You stop by, call her, do anything to bother her ever again, I’ll fucking end you.”

  His head moves a millimeter or two. I’m grasping too tight for him to nod properly. “Yes,” he gasps.

  “Good.” I throw him to the ground, and he crab crawls away a few feet before standing.

  His lips part to throw more nasty words at Shelby and I’m right up in his face again. “Do it and I’ll beat you to death on her front lawn.”

  Finally, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m going.”

  I wait and watch him leave before going back inside.

  “Thank you,” Shelby whispers. “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for? He’s the asshole.”

  She shrugs.

  “You need a ride?”

  “No. I called and let them know I’m running late. Come inside so I can make you breakfast.” She leans up and kisses my cheek. “I at least owe you some eggs after all those magnificent orgasms you gave me.”

  “Magnificent, huh?” I slam the door behind us and follow her into the kitchen.

  Chapter Twelve

  Shelby

  This morning, all the lights are blazing inside the Tipsy Saddle. Somehow, the interior is still dark and shadowy. The scent of stale popcorn and spilled beer lingers in the air. A pungent, sweaty aroma will get added to the mix tonight when the place is packed with our regular buzzed two-stepping crowd.

  “I’m so sorry!” I yelp, as I hurry inside and set down my guitar.

  Trent’s waiting in the long hallway and leans down to grab my guitar case. “You’re never late. Everything okay?”

  Beyond him, I make out the dull wooden bar with a line of stools neatly nestled underneath. No matter how many times we clean that bar top, it’s always a bit sticky. Beyond that, chairs are neatly stacked on top of scarred wood tables. A hearty layer of sawdust coats the floor.

  As far as honky-tonks go, it’s not the worst I’ve ever visited.

  “Broke up with Brad,” I admit.

  “Bout time. He ain’t worth two cents, Shelby. Never was good enough for ya.”

  Yeah, the few times I’d brought Brad to rehearsal, he’d managed to alienate every person he came into contact with. Even Trent, who’s the most laid-back person ever.

  “You all right?”

  I blush and duck my head. “I kind of met someone. It’s a long story.”

  “Tell me later. The guys we hired for tonight are getting restless.”

  I hurry to the stage and say a quick hello to the drummer. I’m not sure where the other guy is but I’m too flustered to do anything more than check my equipment. I’m not surprised to find
that Trent has everything ready for me. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He picks up his guitar and lifts his chin.

  The bassist, a guy I don’t recognize, throws a scowl at me as he struts onto the stage.

  I don’t need to look at the list. I know it by heart. All the same cover songs you’d expect to hear in a place like the Tipsy Saddle. There’s also a short list of my own songs. I’m pretty sure the bass player rolls his eyes at one point but I pay him no mind. It’s not the first time I’ve been dismissed and it certainly won’t be the last. No one’s paying him to perform his original material tonight, so he can suck it.

  When we’re finished rehearsing our set, Trent walks the guys to the back door. Once they’re out of sight, I pull out my acoustic guitar and drop down onto a bench.

  Soft boot steps over the hardwood stop my strumming. “Something new you want to work on?” Trent asks, watching me carefully.

  “A few lyrics have been floating around in my head all morning.” Even though we’ve spent many hours writing together, this feels too personal to share details.

  “Break-up song?”

  “Hardly.” No, it wasn’t Brad on my mind this morning. Not even after the ugly scene at my house. Rooster is the only man occupying my thoughts.

  I strum a few chords and allow the words to flow out.

  Trent raises an eyebrow and chuckles. “Must be some story.”

  He helps me work out the melody on the old backstage piano. It still needs finessing, but I like where it’s headed.

  After rehearsal, my manager stops by to discuss tour plans. I still can’t believe I have an actual manager. But Greg’s been such a help to me over the last month.

  For the rest of the day, I help get the bar ready to open. In the free hour I have before I have to go on stage, my mother stops by with my dress.

  I can’t help bouncing up and down on my toes when I see it. “It’s so pretty.”

  “Finished it this morning.”

  I hold it up against my chest and swish the layered skirt back and forth. It’s white chiffon with teal flowers and a skirt meant for twirling. I probably have fifty other ones just like it in my closet, but this is my favorite style. Under the stage lights, I tend to sweat through a lot of dresses. Thank the Lord, my mom can sew.

 

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