Clearly as eager to be inside her as she was to have him there, Rafe released her, and pulled her thong to one side again. His knuckles bumped against her bottom as he guided his cock towards her pussy. She moaned as it slid between her swollen labia, then threw her head back as it pushed inside her still-quivering core.
She hadn’t seen his dick—except for the brief hint she’d had of it through his boxer shorts—but she could sure as hell feel it as it stretched her internal walls, striking off of what felt like every nerve ending on the way. God, it felt good. Long and thick, but not excessively so, and gloriously hard. Hard for her.
Rafe’s hands were on her hips, and he was breathing heavily, letting out the odd expletive as he pushed deeper inside her. Finally, when he’d bottomed out, his balls squashed up against her buttocks, he let out a heavy breath and dug his fingertips into her flesh. “Fucking hell, Gloria, you feel amazing. I’m really…” he gasped as she deliberately clenched her pussy around his shaft, “unnh… not sure how long I’m going to last.”
The hormones buzzing through her body making her a little punch-drunk, and braver than usual, Gloria peered over her shoulder at him and said, “That’s all right, I’ve come already anyway. So why don’t you give me the fucking you promised me, huh? This is your idea, your fantasy, to fuck a beautiful woman over your bike. So it’s about time you got on with it.”
With a growl, he gripped her hips even harder. The pain made her gasp, and sent a fresh bolt of lust zipping directly to her groin. She clenched her muscles around him again.
“Fucking hell, woman, you’ll be the death of me.”
“As long as you don’t die until you’re finished fucking me, we’ll be all right,” she quipped, then let out a mildly hysterical laugh.
But Rafe didn’t seem to notice, because he was done waiting. Pulling back until just the tip of his dick was inside her, he paused briefly, before forging inside her once more.
Gloria moaned long and loud, her pleasure so intense that she barely noticed the metal foot-peg of the bike digging into her shin. Rafe’s cock just felt so damn good inside her, so delicious as he picked up his pace, pounding her hard and deep, that it wasn’t long before her second orgasm approached.
And just in the nick of time, it seemed, as Rafe said, between gasps, “Gloria, baby, I’m going to come… any minute now. You’re just so hot, so tight, I can’t—”
“Then don’t,” she said raggedly, as he continued to yank her onto him, “fuck me as bloody hard and fast as you can. I can take it.”
His response was to do as she said. She steadied herself against the bike, hoping the centre stand was strong and secure enough to take their frantic coupling, and held on as Rafe gave her everything he’d got. Rude, wet noises from her pussy reached her ears, as did the slapping of skin against skin, again and again as he pistoned in and out of her.
Then, just when she thought her pussy was actually in danger of catching on fire, Rafe suddenly stopped thrusting and dropped his head into the middle of her back. “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck! I’m… unh…”
He didn’t need to tell her—she could feel it. The further swelling of his shaft inside her was followed by its frantic twitching and leaping as his balls emptied their load into the condom. She moaned at the sensation, then grinned widely as post-sex hormones flooded her body, making her feel like she was walking on air.
Being fucked over a motorbike by a smokin’ hot, bad boy biker hadn’t even entered her head when she’d reluctantly accepted this assignment. But now, she found herself secretly hoping it wouldn’t be the last time it happened. Even if it was, though, it had been so mind-blowingly amazing that the memories would be in her wank bank for a very, very long time to come.
Chapter Nine
It was Saturday morning, and Gloria woke up feeling good. Her sleep-fogged brain couldn’t quite work out why, until a snuffling sound made her snap her head to the side. Rafe—of course.
She grinned widely as memories piled back into her conscious mind. Her hopes had been realised—the unforgettable shag in the workshop hadn’t been the last. Far from it. Though they’d moved to the more traditional setting of her hotel room, and they’d been on a bed, rather than bent over a bike, the sex had been no less spectacular. In some ways, it was even better. The spontaneity had been replaced by having the time, the room and the privacy to get fully naked and explore each other’s bodies to their hearts’ content. And they had. Several times over. Thank God she’d had a stash of condoms in her wash bag.
Stretching languidly, Gloria rolled onto her side and looked at Rafe. He was still fast asleep and, now clean—following a sexy interlude in the shower the previous evening—and minus his leathers, with his soft, slightly overlong hair splayed on the pillow, he looked every bit as angelic as she’d first suspected. She smirked as she considered the juxtaposition between his angelic looks and his devilish behaviour. Luckily for her, his sex drive was just as powerful as his drive to win races—and he had the stamina and skill to go with it. Small wonder she was aching in all the right places and grinning like an idiot.
The only downside to their epic lovemaking session was the fact that she hadn’t had a chance to make a start on her article. She wasn’t sure that telling Graeme she’d been doing extra research by sleeping with her interview subject would gain her any favour, or an extension on the deadline, so she’d have to knuckle down today.
She rolled over to her other side and grabbed her phone from the bedside table to find out what the time was. A peek at the screen sent relief coursing through her—it was only six a.m. There were still several hours to go until Rafe’s first race, giving her plenty of time to make some headway on her write up. In fact—she peered back over her shoulder—there was no reason why she couldn’t make a start now. She could write for an hour, maybe an hour and a half, then wake Rafe in plenty of time for breakfast.
As luck would have it, Rafe and his brothers were staying in the same hotel as her, so he could sneak back to his room for a shower and some fresh clothes, then head to the restaurant and nobody would be any the wiser. Except maybe Flynn and Clark—and it wasn’t like they could do anything about it. She and Rafe were both consenting adults. They might not have a particularly high opinion of her—and she couldn’t really blame them—but hopefully she’d win them over by the time the weekend was over.
Win them over? Why do you care? This is just a… two-night stand. And that’s only if he wants to see you again tonight. For all you know, he could wake up and scurry back to his room, then avoid you for the rest of the weekend. He is an arrogant arsehole, remember?
She sighed. Damn it—why did her brain have to go and ruin things?
Because you’re straitlaced, sensible Gloria Heath, and you don’t have one-night stands. Or two-night stands. Or fuck completely unsuitable men. And you definitely don’t get screwed by aforementioned unsuitable men over motorbikes.
He was unsuitable, too. Even if he was the nicest guy to ever wear leathers, he still wouldn’t be right for her. How could he be? His job was nuts—terrifying, death-defying and all-encompassing. It didn’t leave any room for anything else in his head or his heart, and that was before taking into consideration all the travelling around, and the very real risk he could get injured—or even worse—in a race.
Slipping out from beneath the duvet, she then headed over to the little table by the window, which held her laptop. She put her phone down on the table, then lifted the lid on the computer and pressed the button to boot it up.
While she waited, she used the toilet, washed her hands, then came out and threw on the baggy T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms she’d brought to wear in bed. At home she slept naked, hence the lack of proper pyjamas, but she always took something with her if she was staying away—it just felt weird to sleep naked in a strange place. How was she to know she’d end up having a sexy sleepover and that really, some slinky nightwear would have been more appropriate?
After making a crack
in the curtains to let in just enough light for her to see the computer, but without disturbing Rafe, she sat down at the table. Her desktop was ready and waiting, and she opened up her word processing programme. She created and saved a new document, then typed in the headline she’d come up with the previous day: Bad Boy Biker Snubs Teams and Sponsors.
That was the easy part. It was a snappy headline, an intriguing hook, and she knew it would draw people in. She just had to make sure the rest of the article was up to scratch, too. If it wasn’t, she supposed she could blame Graeme for making her work on something so out of her comfort zone, but she’d much rather come up with something she was proud of. Especially since, in less than twenty-four hours, she’d actually become invested in the subject matter.
No, you haven’t, she scolded herself. You’ve screwed the subject matter—that’s not the same thing. You’ve had some fun together, but it’ll be over soon. In fact, it could be over already.
Moodily, she stared at the mostly-blank screen until faint grey dots started to swim before her eyes. Then movement from the bed caught her attention. Rafe was turning over, but he still appeared to be asleep.
As she gazed at him, admiring the bits of him she could see—his face, shoulders, arms and the top half of his chest—a thought crashed into her mind like a thunderbolt.
You’re a reporter, not a fiction writer. You just need to state the facts, tell the readers what you’ve learned about Rafe Donovan, about his journey, not give your opinion on him.
It’d be difficult to remain impartial, given they’d fucked each other’s brains out on multiple occasions, but she could do it. She was a professional, after all.
Dragging her gaze away from the temptation personified that lay in her bed, she took a couple of deep breaths to help her focus, then began to type.
She got so into ‘the zone’ that she completely lost track of time. Fortunately, Rafe woke naturally just over an hour after she’d put fingers to keyboard. From the corner of her eye she caught movement and looked over at the bed. His eyes still closed, he rolled over to where she should have been and threw out an arm, letting out a sound of surprise when he didn’t find her there. She smirked, even as a strange pang occurred in her chest at how adorable he was being.
She watched as he shifted onto his back, opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows as he looked around the room. Spotting her, he shot her a sleepy smile. She couldn’t help returning it. Gravity had tugged the duvet a little further down Rafe’s body as he’d pushed himself up, affording her a better view. The effect, she had to concede, was utterly devastating. Rafe was soft with sleep, still smiling, his eyes a little unfocussed, hair all over the place and most of his delicious torso uncovered.
“Good morning,” he all but purred, giving her a pang in an altogether different place this time—somewhere much lower down. “What are you doing?”
Swallowing hard to try and generate some saliva, she then forced out a reply, “Working on my article.” Then, belatedly, “Good morning.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Excellent. I admire your commitment. However,” he lifted the duvet and peered beneath it, then returned his gaze to hers, “I have two very good reasons for you to come back to bed.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and she was on her feet before she even knew what she was doing.
Halfway between the table and the bed, she asked, “Two reasons?”
Pulling the duvet up—but cleverly not so high that he was revealing any more of his body—he said, “Take off those cute clothes, get back into bed, and you’ll find out.”
Feeling like she was hypnotised, Gloria did as he said, sighing with happiness as she sunk back into the soft embrace of the bed. Which was quickly followed by the much harder embrace of Rafe. He reached out and pulled her to him, seemingly not giving a shit about morning breath—his or hers—and met her gaze. His hard length pressed against her thigh, and she slickened in response. “So, you wanna know the two reasons?”
She nodded. “Duh, of course.”
“Well,” he shifted his hips, rubbing his cock on her leg, “I think one of those reasons is pretty obvious. But the other is… I’m dying to kiss you again.”
Before she had time to process his surprising words, he did just that. She was so shocked and aroused that she forgot all about morning breath, her lack of makeup and the fact her hair was probably as wild as his—probably more so.
Their kiss quickly went from I’m-half-asleep-but-I-want-you to Christ-I-want-you-so-much-we’re-never-leaving-this-bed-again. Gloria wrapped her arms around the back of Rafe’s neck and pulled him on top of her. She relished the multitude of sensations; the scrape of his chest hair on her stiff nipples, the insistent throb of his shaft against her thigh, his hot skin and hard muscles pressed to her, the softness of his hair beneath her fingers as she tangled them in his locks, and the thrust of his tongue in her mouth. Her hormones raged ferociously, and she tilted her hips urgently, silently begging for him to get inside her.
Rafe broke their kiss and moved his head back just enough so they could focus on each other’s faces. His eyes were full of mischief, and he currently looked much more devil than angel. “Hey, little miss impatient! Someone’s eager.”
Sassily, she responded, “What can I say? Your two reasons for returning to bed were very compelling.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Let’s see…” He knelt, removing his weight from his arms, and slipped a hand between her legs. “Just how eager are you?” He gasped as his fingers contacted her pussy, then groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “God, you are just so fucking hot, Gloria. I could do this with you forever.”
“But then you’d miss your race. And I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that. Speaking of which…” She reached over to the bedside table and mercifully found another condom, which she grabbed and handed to Rafe. “I think you need this. Now.”
Smirking, Rafe carefully undid the packaging, removed the rubber and rolled it down his straining dick. “You know, I kinda like it when you get all bossy.”
“Do you? That’s interesting.” She paused, meeting his eyes, which were dark with lust. “Rafe?”
“Yes?”
“Fuck me.”
“With pleasure.”
He shuffled into position between her thighs, and took a brief moment to admire her naked form, prone before him. She cleared her throat, spurring him into action. Her body welcomed him, and Rafe entwined his legs with hers as he began to fuck her tenderly, smiling down at her before leaning in for another kiss. It was a truly perfect example of lazy morning sex, and Gloria lost herself in the slow, blissful thrust and grasp and grind of their lovemaking, until suddenly, her orgasm crept up on her and took over her body, rocking her to her very core.
Its intensity pulled Rafe along with her. He swore and halted his movements, then let out a guttural groan as his cock twitched and danced inside her.
They clung to each other as they rode out their respective climaxes. Then Rafe released a huge whoosh of breath before rolling off her and collapsing onto the mattress beside her. “Fucking hell,” he said, turning his head to look at her. “That was… amazing. I don’t know where it came from, though. I was just taking my time there, then suddenly, bam. You were spasming on my dick and I couldn’t stop myself coming.”
Gloria shrugged, smiled. “I don’t know, either, but it was gooood.” She exhaled heavily. “But I suppose we should get a move on, really. You’ve got racing to do, I’ve got writing to do—you know, all that boring stuff.”
Rafe grinned. “Yeah, adulting sucks!”
“Yeah, you’re right there. It really fucking sucks! Maybe we should get that on T-shirts. Come on,” she poked him playfully in the ribs, “get your sexy arse out of bed. I don’t want to be held responsible for you being late. Your brothers dislike me enough as it is.”
His face darkening, Rafe replied, “Just you leave my brothers to me.” He gave her a quick kiss, then got out of
bed and loped towards the bathroom.
Gloria bit her lip as the door closed behind him. Shit, that really had been intense. She’d never, never had sex like that before—and probably never would again. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to get a grip on herself. Then she opened them, climbed out of bed and hurriedly started to get her things together, ready for her day at the circuit. She couldn’t allow what had happened between her and Rafe to burrow beneath her skin, to be anything more than physical satisfaction and a bit of fun. He wouldn’t be thinking that way—so why should she? Granted, over the course of the previous evening and night, they’d had opportunities to chat, to get to know each other better, and she’d discovered that, beneath the bluster, he was actually a good guy. Smart, funny, and even kind of sweet. In the middle of the night, under the cover of darkness, he’d even quietly told her what happened to his parents. A boating accident, three years ago.
But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t for her.
The bathroom door clicked open, but Gloria refused to look in Rafe’s direction, instead focussing intently on taking out clean clothes and underwear. Any minute now, he was going to get dressed, walk out of her hotel room, and that would be the end of it. No way was she going to let him see how much she hated the thought.
Rafe came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Mmm,” he murmured into her ear, “you look gorgeous. I’m going to have to get dressed and head back to my room before I’m tempted all over again.” He kissed her neck. “If we don’t bump into each other in the restaurant for breakfast, are you going to come to the workshop?”
Gloria frowned. “I… er… what for?”
Rafe paused, then put his hands on her shoulders and spun her around. Then he cursed. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, hold that thought. And put some clothes on, please. I can’t concentrate when you’re all… naked.” He searched the floor for his clothes and began pulling them on.
British Bad Boys: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set Page 13
