by Chelle Bliss
Her eyes grew wide as they traveled up my thighs and became fixated on my cock. “You could’ve warned a girl.”
“I don’t see a girl here, and you’re well acquainted with what I have.” I smirked, rounding the bed, not looking over my shoulder. I didn’t have to see her to know that she was staring at my ass, taking in my bare skin. “Like what you see?” I teased.
“Yes,” she whispered.
There were two things I knew with her words. The first thing I knew was that her answer wasn’t a lie. She was affected no matter how much she wanted to deny it. The second was that the niceness that had oozed out of her mouth was bullshit. There were no weapons near her, and I assumed she hoped to charm me with her nakedness to gain her freedom.
“You sure about this?” I asked as I stood on the opposite side of her bed, stark naked and unashamed.
She nodded and pulled back the blankets for me to climb in next to her.
I slid across the stiff sheets that sounded more like paper than cotton as my body moved closer to her. I punched the pillow a couple of times, trying to find comfort in my limited amount of space, but it was useless with Izzy this close to me. My semi-hard dick had grown rock solid with her proximity.
“James, will you hold me?” she asked, turning to me with those same doe eyes.
“Always,” I said as I faced her, placing my front to her side. I rested my hard length against her thigh and saw her eyes grow wide before a small smile played on her lips.
I couldn’t hide how attracted I was to her. I’d never had the capacity to turn off a hard-on. There was only one way to tame the beast, and she was currently at my mercy.
Turning her face toward me, she stared in my eyes, and I could see emotion behind her wild sapphire eyes. As part of the agency, I’d been trained in reading emotion and knowing when someone lied during an interrogation. Izzy wasn’t hard to read, since I knew her personality from firsthand experience and Thomas’s stories.
“Kiss me,” she blurted out, and bit her lip.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
There was nothing more I wanted in this world than to taste her again, but I wouldn’t get to taste all of her like I wanted. It would be an appetizer. Just enough to drive me mad and remind her of our night together.
I leaned over, hovering just above her lips as I looked into her eyes. “Last chance,” I warned, waiting for her to respond.
“I want you, James,” she whispered against my lips before moving her mouth to meet mine.
Her mouth felt soft, and I craved to feel her lips wrapped around my dick, sucking me off and choking on my hardness. What started as a gentle kiss turned hot and heavy as my need for her intensified. Leaning over, I held her face in my hand, resting my thumb against our mouths.
She didn’t smell the same. The stench from the biker bar had almost washed out her perfume. I hadn’t been able to be near a woman who wore the same scent without growing hard.
Her mouth was unforgettable. The way it moved across my skin, devouring my lips, and took all of me was something I could never wipe from my mind.
She moaned as I swept my tongue against hers. I nipped her lips, drawing them into my mouth and sucking with enough pressure to cause them to be swollen tomorrow. I wanted her to remember where I’d been.
Moving my hand away from her face, I let it fall to her neck, feeling her pulse race under my palm. What started as a plan had turned into something more, something that could swallow us whole and suck us in so deep we wouldn’t be able to turn back. She dug her nails into my back, scraping down, and rested her hand just above my ass.
As she whimpered in my mouth, pushing her leg against my dick, I pulled back and looked at her. “You want me? “ I asked, resting my forehead against hers.
Breathing raggedly, she swallowed and answered, “Yes,” as she slid her hand down to my ass and squeezed.
I smirked, moving myself on top of her before taking her lips again. I captured her moans and tiny whimpers in my mouth as I pushed my cock against her G-string, driving her closer to the edge.
“James, my hand,” she whispered, grinding her pussy against me. “Please. I want to touch you.”
I was tempted to free her hand. I wanted to feel her fingers roam my skin and her fingernails scratch down my back, but I hadn’t been born yesterday.
Sliding my tongue down her neck, I latched on to the sensitive spot near her collarbone. She cried out, flinching from the pressure of the bite. I fisted the thin scrap of lace she thought was underwear, ripped it from her skin, and tossed it on my floor.
She sucked in a quick breath, pushing her hips into me. “Hand,” she whimpered.
Hearing her beg made my dick harder than it had been before. I could feel her wetness against my length as I feasted on her skin. She was right where I wanted her—horny and ready to take all of me.
Placing my hands on either side of her, I captured her lips, moving my hips to glide against her heat. I backed away, stared in her eyes, and pushed myself off her.
As I stood, her eyes grew wide and she pulled at the restraints. “What the fuck?” she thundered.
“I know your game, Izzy,” I replied as I walked toward my bed.
She kicked the mattress and grunted. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Get your ass over here and finish what you started.”
I smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed, my cock standing at attention, and looked at her. “You started it. You only want me to take off the handcuffs, and that shit ain’t happening.”
“I wanted you, James.” She stilled in the bed and stared at the ceiling.
“You’ll get me when you’re not trying to play me for a fool.”
“I wasn’t,” she pleaded, closing her eyes and exhaling.
“The next time you have me, you’ll be begging for it, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll give it to you.”
“I won’t beg.”
I smiled, fisting my shaft as I stroked the length. “I won’t fuck you again until you’re begging for me to fuck you. Fuck you like I did months ago.”
She turned toward me, her eyes staring at my dick. “I won’t beg.”
I continued to move my hands up and down, teasing myself just as much. “You. Will. Beg.”
“You’re an asshole. I’ve never begged a man for cock,” she said through gritted teeth with her body uncovered and on full display.
“Those were boys, Izzy. I’m a man. I remember how hard you came with me, how many times you came on my cock and in my mouth. You fuckin’ loved it.”
“I was drunk,” she protested, stroking the space between her breasts with her fingertips as she moved them up to her neck and traced the same path down toward her belly button.
Sweet fucking Jesus, watching her touch herself made me want to the throw my brilliant plan out the window and fuck her senseless.
Her olive skin was highlighted with tattoos. Most of her tattoos were hidden from public view. They were for her personal enjoyment. She had a dragon down her left ribcage with the word “Gallo” underneath. Near her left breast, she had an intricate hibiscus flower in vibrant reds and oranges. The leaves and vines wrapped around her breast, almost cradling it. For a tattoo artist, she hadn’t overdone the artwork yet.
Her piercings captured my attention the most. Her nipples and the hood just above her clit were pierced. I wanted to yank on it with my teeth and scrape against her clit, causing her to chant my name. The small piercings hanging from her nipples had me fantasizing about the ways I could put them to use. I imagined restraining her using those alone. Fuck, I needed to stop thinking about fucking her.
“Not an excuse. I didn’t take advantage of you,” I said, pulling on the tip, running my fingers over the apadravya. “And I know you loved feeling this,” I declared as I gave the piercing a tug, “stroking you from the inside.”
“I’ll admit, the happydravya is a nice touch,” she conceded, pursing her lips.
“Ha
ppydravya?” I asked, tightening my grip around the shaft.
“It’s a nickname for that type of piercing.”
I released my cock, too close to coming, and placed my legs in the bed as I swiveled around. “Go to bed.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep. That’s it, doll. You won’t get my cock until you’re on your hands and knees, begging for me to fuck you. It won’t be as a ploy to untie your hands.”
“Asshole.”
“I’ll fuck you there too. I’m taking all of you the next time I sink my dick in you balls deep.” I punched the pillow, resting my head against the lumpy mess.
“You’re so full of yourself,” she whispered as she lay on her back and pulled the covers over her breasts.
I smiled, knowing that she was right. I was an asshole and full of myself, but she was right there with me. The girl had confidence and bullshit down pat. She was a master and could get her way with any man—anyone but me. I was impervious to her charms.
“You’ll be full of me again someday soon.”
“Fuck off,” she hissed.
“Good night, Isabella,” I crooned as I switched off the lamp and closed my eyes.
She didn’t reply. I could hear her breathing, jagged at first, begin to slow. Once she was asleep, I allowed myself to think of making her mine as I drifted off.
Isabella Gallo wasn’t an easy target, but nothing worth having ever is.
She didn’t know it yet, but I had my sights set on her, and I always got what I wanted.
6
Lying to Myself
Izzy
My body was covered with sweat as I kicked off the sheets. James had invaded my goddamn dreams. Motherfucker had gotten into my head last night with his smug bullshit.
The brown ’70s alarm clock on the nightstand read eight. The drapes were closed and blocking out the sunlight, but the illumination of the television made James glow like an angel. Not an angel sent by God, but a fallen one put on Earth to torture me. The numbness in my arm had woken me from the wet dream I’d been having. Once again, I’d been denied the orgasm I needed and wanted.
The blankets had shifted as he slept. One leg rested on top, the other still underneath and hiding. I sat up, placing my back against the headboard, and took in his wicked beauty.
He was exactly how I liked him best—silent.
I’d never had the chance to really look at him. I couldn’t bring myself to give him the satisfaction of drinking him in. He towered over me. He was wide too, more than twice my width, and he easily overshadowed me. Not only was he bigger than I was, he was cockier too.
He looked like a giant in the tiny-ass bed. The man needed a California king to look like a normal-sized person. His feet touched the end and almost hung off as his head rested just below the headboard. Even when he was sleeping, when his muscles should be the most relaxed, everything was taut and hard.
His washboard abs looked like a product of Photoshop, and flexed with his breathing. His black hair was longer than the last time I’d seen him. It lay across his forehead in a wild mess, touching his eyebrows. His lips twitched slightly, and I ached to touch them. They were full and made to be kissed. It was a shame they usually spouted such smug shit.
I admired his tattoos, which flowed down his shoulder and ran up his ribcage. He must’ve spent hours in the chair. It wasn’t colorful artwork—all of it was black with gray shading. Waves stretched across his side, reaching from his hip to just under his armpits. Riding the waves were koi fish and Japanese-inspired flowers. His shoulder piece was as unique as the other. The claws of the dragon touched his pec, ran down his shoulder, and ended a couple of inches above his elbow.
Each one of my brothers had a dragon tattoo, and even I had one on my ribcage. It was a family thing—a symbol of our togetherness and all that bullshit. I’d just thought it was a kick-ass tattoo.
The fact that James had a dragon tattoo could enter him into the Gallo brotherhood without needing extra ink. I hoped he never discovered that simple fact. He’d probably go off about how we had been made for each other. Yada, yada. The man probably thought he was God’s gift to women.
“Like what you see?” his deep-sleep voice asked.
I closed my eyes, knowing that I’d been caught, and sighed. “Just looking at your ink and nothing more.”
“Sleep well?” He rubbed his eyes and yawned.
I jiggled the cuffs in the air. “How do you think I slept?” I growled.
“Stiff?” he asked, a playful smile spreading across his lips.
“Sounds like your problem, not mine.” I laughed, but inside, I was secretly dying.
We had been so close to having sex last night. What had started out as a plan to get him to let me go had turned into something more. The memories from Joey’s wedding night came flooding back, and I wanted more. I’d rather him think it had all been just an act. That was preferable to admitting that I wanted him.
“Can you take these off now? I have to pee.”
James stood, stretching his muscles and showing off his body. The man had no shame. I didn’t either. He grabbed the key off the desk near the door and sat on the bed, staring at me.
“What?” I snapped, annoyed and over the entire situation.
“I like you like this.” He smiled, rubbing his chin as he ran his finger across his lips.
“Well, you better memorize it, because you’ll never see me like this again,” I muttered, chewing the inside of my cheek.
“I bet I will, Izzy. You can’t resist me forever.”
“I didn’t know you were trying, Jimmy.”
Starting at my wrist, he lightly ran his fingers down my arm and traced a path to my chin. He stroked my cheek and stared into my eyes. “I’m telling you now. I love a good chase and a worthy adversary. You. Will. Be. Mine,” he said calmly, swiping his thumb across my bottom lip.
I swallowed hard, trying to get the lump that had formed in my throat to disappear. “I don’t go for the caveman shit,” I insisted, trying not to let him hear the delight his words had caused me.
“You do. You just won’t admit it.” He leaned forward, kissing the corner of my mouth.
I closed my eyes, savoring the scent of him. He smelled amazing. The light hint of musk and leftover cologne invaded my senses.
I turned my face and said, “I have to pee or I’ll do it right here.”
“You always have an excuse. Keep running, but I’ll get you in the end.”
What a cocky-ass motherfucker. I’d grown up with cocky. I knew it well. My ability to sniff it out had been honed since I was a child. I’d spent years trying to avoid it. It wasn’t that I wanted a pussy; I just didn’t want someone who felt like they owned me. No one told me what to do. I was Izzy Gallo. Slave to no one and master of my destiny.
I glared at him, about ready to start shifting in the bed from having to go and the effect James was having on me. “Please let me up,” I said, playing the sweet card.
“Do your business and then let’s hit it. I want to get you home as soon as possible so I can get back to Thomas,” he replied as he reached for the cuff. Holding my wrist, he worked the key in the lock, freeing me.
After pulling my wrist down, I rubbed it, soothing the spot the metal had rubbed against all night. “Thomas should be your priority right now,” I said as I rolled off the other side of the bed and away from him. “Not me.”
“I’m a multi-tasker.” He laughed. “Plus, your sweet ass is the one in front of me, so you take the top spot.”
As I walked by the bed, he reached out quickly and swatted my ass. I jumped, turning to face him, and glared. “What the fuck was that for?”
“I couldn’t help smacking that beautiful ass. Next time I do it, I’m going to be buried inside you and you’ll be begging me for more.”
I grabbed my clothes off the floor near his feet and stood, leaning into his space. “You’ll be the one begging, Jimmy. You bet your tight, hard ass on that one.
”
The corner of his mouth turned up and his emerald-green eyes sparkled. They were an amazing shade of green. A picture would never capture their beauty and the depth of color. I needed to stop thinking of how beautiful he was and stick to my guns. James would not get what he wanted from this girl.
“Doll, I’m flattered you noticed my tight, hard ass.” He laughed, grabbing my face quickly and planting a kiss on my lips.
I felt the spark, just like the one I’d felt the first night he kissed me in the elevator. We had electricity—enough that we could probably light up a small town for a year—but no spark was worth dealing with his smug ass every day.
Pushing him away, I smacked him. “Don’t ever do that unless I want it.”
“Oh, you did,” he said, shaking his head and breaking out into laughter.
I placed my open palm against his head, pushing him backward. “Clearly we need to go over when no means no.”
I could hear his laughter as I walked toward the tiny bathroom. After closing the door, I tossed my clothes to the floor and leaned against the cool wooden surface. Sealing my eyes shut, I rested my hands on the door, and breathed.
James had my number. I was so totally fucked. I didn’t know if I should be happy or totally pissed off. I liked the idea of the chase. Fuck, it could be fun as hell, but knowing what it meant if I were to be captured did not make me overly excited. I loved a good sparring partner as much as the next person, but James was an entirely different animal. He wasn’t a pushover, an easy victim. No, he was the worst kind of all—a clear-cut victor and an opponent I couldn’t beat.
I had to channel my inner Tyson. The man had known that Holyfield would kick his ass and he wouldn’t win with his fists alone. He’d resorted to biting the dude’s ear off to not show his weakness. I’d be like Mike. Play dirty or lose it all.
A small knock made me jump. “What?” I yelled as I slowly peeled myself off the door.
“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t slip out on me. I didn’t hear any activity.”
