The warm, reassuring pressure left her back and the stranger held them up with a smirk. “Lord, you really are drunk. It’s a good thing I’m going to see you in and to bed. You shouldn’t go out alone if you can’t take care of yourself.”
“Yes, dad,” she said dryly. Too late, she realized how sexual the word sounded. She glanced over at the stranger, fearful of what she’d see on his face, but his expression was little more than professional. He handed over the keys. I should have known better. He’s really just a nice guy, seeing me in. He’s just worried about me. He has no interest in me. Why should he? He’s a god and I’m a plain brown mouse. Mouse. It was actually her nickname growing up.
It took her a full minute to find her house key, even though there were few keys on the ring; probably no more than seven or eight.
She finally inserted the one she thought was the right one, into the lock. Of course the damn thing didn’t budge. Tia cursed as she wiggled the key. She tried pulling it out, but it was stuck.
“Here. Let me.” The strangers hand closed over hers.
She froze. Slowly his fingers unwrapped and she pulled her hand away. It didn’t help the burning sensation, which lingered long after he let go or the fact that her entire body felt like it was floating. He’s just a nice guy. Seriously. Stop. Her alcohol infused brain wouldn’t listen and kept right on firing sexual signals left and right that left her feeling weak and wrung out.
“I’m pretty sure this isn’t the right key.”
God, even his voice is sexy. “I…”
“Never mind. I’ll try the others until I find one that works.”
Her keys jingled and she stepped back, giving the guy time to work. It was also that she could appreciate his fine stature. Tia stared at him unabashedly, just because she knew he wouldn’t turn around and catch her.
“There.” A minute later her door swung inward. The guy stepped in, reached around and found the light switch. He turned it on, illuminating them both in the golden glow of her porch light.
“Thanks,” she mumbled. The word, though it was just one, came out slurred. Even she could barely tell what she said.
The guy shook his head, like he was already regretting his decision to see her home. He didn’t have to. She wasn’t a damn child that he had to take care of.
Irrational anger bubbled up inside of her. Would it be so wrong, just for once, to have someone pay attention to her? To see her as an attractive woman? Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Tia gave her head a shake and stepped through the front door, after the stranger.
Unfortunately the one shoe she still had on caught on the threshold and she stumbled forward. She righted herself, but tripped on the hem of her dress. She stumbled, flailing around, trying to get a handhold on the wall. She missed, stumbled again and flew right into the front steps. Her place was small and the staircase to go up was nearly right at the front door.
She landed in an ungraceful heap on the carpeted steps. It was lucky the carpet, put in by a former owner, was plush and soft. It basically broke what could have been a bad fall.
The stranger stepped up and loomed over her. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, like she was some kind of distasteful mission he had to carry out. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
Tia gathered what little dignity she had left, gripped the railing, tugged down her dress, which she realized had ridden up painfully high, towards the tops of her thighs, and stood. She shot a scathing look at the guy.
“You’re not being very helpful standing there judging me. No one asked you to come. No one asked you to see me home or get me inside. You don’t have to ride up like a damn knight on a white horse. I’m not in distress. I don’t need saving.” She realized how stupid her tirade sounded as soon as she was done.
Those storm tossed blue eyes drilled a hole right through her. “Of course not. This isn’t some fairy tale. And god knows, I’m no knight. Not in any lifetime and certainly not in this one.”
In a moment of clarity, Tia was shocked to see those eyes change. What she thought was annoyance turned into heat. Red hot. No, white hot. Those eyes pierced her, sent a thousand chills racing up her spine and made her throb in places she had no business to be throbbing in.
“I- I see that,” she stammered. She raised her chin, trying to salvage what little she had left of her pride. “I’ll be fine. You can go now.”
Those eyes narrowed and darkened. She shuddered again. God, he was dangerous. Not in a scary way, but in the kind of wild, sexual way. A way Tia certainly never had experienced in her life. Before Jeremy, she’d had a handful of partners and none of them were what she’d describe as adventurous and certainly not as dark or dangerous.
“The cab already left.”
Her hand tightened on the railing. “Call another then.”
“Do you really want me to?” His hand slipped to his back pocket and brought out his phone. He stared at her, one blonde brow raised in challenge.
He likes this. Holy god, he actually doesn’t want to go. Tia’s legs nearly buckled, she was so shocked. No man had ever looked at her like that before, like he wanted to consume her, and she was sure as hell that it wasn’t just the alcohol talking.
“I… I have the worst drunk goggles,” she said, even though it wasn’t true. “Tell me that you’re not really… not- I don’t know- do you actually look like that?”
A slow grin spread over the stranger’s handsome face. Those lips went from being handsome unsmiling, to downright sinful. Her stomach hollowed out and felt leaden all at once. Beneath her dress, every single part of her that could physically ache, sure as hell did. Her knuckles whitened on the railing while her heart skittered at an even faster pace.
“In my experience, darling, it’s all the same in the dark.”
Chapter 4
JACK
She’s going to tell me to leave. He was sure of it. The woman on the stairs, she wasn’t the kind of woman who got drunk and had casual interludes with men. He read it clearly in her eyes, her hesitance, hell, even her fear. Not of him, but of the situation. She was also the kind of woman, he realized, who was completely unaware of her own sexuality. And even though he hadn’t figured on her being his type, he suddenly very much wanted to teach her that she was sexy, in her own way.
Another good deed. How fucking unselfish of me. But he knew he wasn’t going to get the chance. Judging from that death grip she had on the damn railing, he was going to be told to go out and catch a damn cab, or walk, even.
“Stay,” the woman whispered. She surprised him, but she shocked the hell out of herself.
“You’re drunk,” he pointed out. “It’s hardly right, or fair.”
She shook her head. “I’m not that drunk. Get me a glass of water and I’ll be fine. I just- don’t normally drink.”
“I don’t think a glass of water is going to fix it.”
She squared her shoulders and raised her chin and damn, she was formidable. He might prefer blondes, or at least, he thought he did, but the woman on the steps was undeniably sexy in ways she had no idea about.
“I was sober enough to remember my address and while my- motor skills might be a little affected because I don’t drink often, I- I can assure you, I’m completely in my right mind. If you’re asking for consent, then I’m not drunk enough that I can’t give it.”
Jack swallowed hard. Why the fuck was his throat suddenly so damn dry? It was a good thing the woman believed in eye contact, because if she looked down, she’d see the damn tent in his pants. He realized that as much as he hated to admit it, Wayde was right about her long legs. He wanted to vomit in his mouth at the thought of the guy, but worse, a jealous streak rose up in him, shocking him completely. His chest tightened and he reached up, without even thinking, to rub the spot above his heart.
“You have one more chance,” he said thickly. His voice was dangerous and dark, even to his own ears. “I can go. I can still be a gentleman. You can still sleep this off.”
The woman laughed. A real laugh that was less alcohol induced. She pinned him with a stare that said, though it might be completely mystifying to her, she knew what he was up to all along. “You didn’t really come all this way just to make sure I made it home okay.”
“I-”
“You said you were no knight. You came because you wanted to- to be here. With me.” Those last two words were voiced with less certainty, as though she couldn’t really believe it might be true.
“You look,” Jack said without thinking. “Like the kind of woman who has never had a good orgasm before.”
“What?” Her mouth fell open at just the right angle that he could imagine it around his cock. He barely stifled a groan.
“I said it looks like no one has ever made you come properly.”
“I- I certainly have come before!” It was said with enough indignation he knew it wasn’t true. At least not in the way he meant.
“Right. I bet I know how many two or three night orgasms you’ve had in your life. None.”
“I- you’re- god…” she stammered. Her hand was back to gripping the railing like the stairs were water and she was going to drown if she even thought about letting go.
“I’m not,” he said, amused at the way her lips thinned out in annoyance. “Not a knight and not god, but I sure as hell could give you an orgasm that you’d remember. I wouldn’t just stop there. I’d give you two or three or four. I bet you’re normally quiet. The kind of girl who doesn’t make a sound, but I’d make you scream.” Why can’t I shut the fuck up? Honestly. I’m not the drunk one here.
Her brows knitted into a tight frown. It was obviously meant to be serious, but she looked utterly adorable. Adorable in a completely sexy kind of way. There is definitely something wrong with me.
“You seem pretty confident in yourself.”
“Not in myself,” he corrected. “In my skill.”
The woman met his eye and swallowed bravely. He watched the slender, white column of her neck bob with the movement. Lord, she had a beautiful neck. She really had a beautiful everything, if he was honest. She wasn’t curvy and she didn’t have large breasts or a big ass. She wasn’t blonde and didn’t have that teasing, coy look of the women he was usually with.
“What if I challenge you to prove it?”
Which made sense. He was tired. Tired of being with the same type of person. Tired of it meaning nothing. Tired of the routineness of it. He never really connected with anyone, even on the odd occasion he wanted to. No, he was always careful to make sure it was just an act. He didn’t mind fucking. It was the feelings he could do without. Feelings only screwed things up and he didn’t need a more complicated life. He was done with that. Complications. He was on the straight and narrow and he wanted to damn well keep it that way.
The unusual attraction he felt could be explained away. He wanted to try a new flavor. He was lonely. It was one of those nights where he wanted to be with another living soul, just for the night. It had been a long time. It made sense. A few orgasms he could do.
“Challenge accepted,” he said thickly, and advanced up the stairs.
Chapter 5
TIA
Oh god. The way he was looking at her, a man whose name she didn’t even know, was hot enough to melt steel. What the hell did I get myself into? She had no idea, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to get herself out of it either. Lord, she didn’t even know his damn name.
His hand hit her shoulder, warm and hot and she forgot about propriety and how being on a first name basis might make what she was about to do seem that much less… slutty. No, not slutty. I’m a grown ass woman. Certainly I can have one night of fun in my whole damn life.
“You’re thinking too hard.” His words, whispered lethally right near her earlobe, kicked Tia’s heart into overdrive.
“I…” she thought hard again and came up with nothing. It was as though her brain was a blank slate that had been wiped completely clean.
His hand moved, strong and sure and talented as hell, slipping one strap of her dress down her arm. The other wasn’t long in following. Because it was barely being held up by those two paper thin straps of fabric, the thing pooled to her waist in one brief whisper.
“You- you aren’t wearing a bra.”
She rolled her eyes. “No. Did you see how low this thing was cut? That left pretty little choice when it came to bras. And- well- I don’t have much in that department anyway…”
His gaze fell to her breasts, which were creamy and white, her nipples pink, hard little buds. The light in the entrance way gave him quite a show. She had the urge to cover herself, but he caught her hand in his. He twined his larger, warmer, stronger fingers through hers and held fast.
“No way. Don’t you dare. And as to what you have, sometimes just enough for a handful is nice. You have beautiful tits. They’re perfect and perky and they suit you perfectly.”
Tia went completely rigid. What kind of a thing is that to say? And who uses the words tits anymore?
“That dress was completely inappropriate for a Christmas party anyway.”
“Thanks mom,” Tia said dryly.
His voice, the stranger’s voice, hit her ear again and sent a thousand racing shivers racing through her. “It looks much better on the floor.”
With that, his hands helped the fabric the rest of the way. Suddenly she was standing there, her dress around her ankles, a red scrap of a thong was all that she had on. The stranger let out a low, feral growl that heated her blood to the point of near boiling.
“What? Did you expect a pair of granny panties?”
“I don’t know what I expected. Truth is, I wondered if you’d maybe skipped out on that too. The underwear… but I like this. It’s very, very sexy.” His hand fell, alarmingly, to cover the scrap of fabric in question.
Tia jolted so hard she nearly rocketed right off the stairs. There was little doubt that the guy’s hand was far too talented. He’d probably done this a few too many times for her liking. But then again, did she actually care? She was never going to see the guy again? What would a few hours of pleasure really hurt?
“You’re thinking again. My guess is that you never do this. That you really are a good girl, the kind who waits for a relationship and stays in it long after the sex has gone stale. That is to say, if it was exciting in the first place.”
His words sent a chill down her spine. Tia’s eyes flew to his face, ready to give him a stern dressing down, but those stormy blue eyes of his, shining with humor and dark with undisguised lust, sealed her lips shut.
“And you’re probably the kind of guy who can’t handle a relationship. Because you’re too scared of feeling anything other than this.” He shrugged and didn’t answer.
The guy- she really had to come up with something better to call him. Sex god. Sinner. Bad boy. Those were all terrible names that weren’t names at all. They were descriptors, just like stranger or him. But on the other hand, at least in this very moment, she couldn’t care less.
The stranger’s index finger slid over her panties, right on top of her clit. A white hot shard of pleasure zinged through her. He caressed her again, a wide, sweeping touch that explored her from front to back. He swirled his finger there, right above her entrance. Tia almost died when she realized how wet she was. The lace panties wouldn’t have soaked anything up, but hell, even a damn mop wouldn’t stand a chance.
“I like this,” the stranger purred. He lifted his finger to her face and ran it over her lips. She froze, her breath trapped in lungs that felt ready to explode. Her insides twisted into a wild, squirming mass. And that was before he parted her lips and thrust the tip of his finger into her mouth.
Her gasp of surprise mingled with his groan of desire. The spicy musk of her own arousal flooded her mouth. No one had ever done anything like that to her before. The stranger’s eyes said he knew as much.
He pulled his finger away and this time, when he lowered it back to the lace covering,
he leaned in and crushed his mouth to hers. Her legs buckled and she went down hard, the kiss melting away the last shard of her resistance.
Tia had spent pretty much her whole life avoiding guys like him. Guys who bore the brand of player. Or at least those she judged to. As her senses careened into overdrive, and the stranger’s hard, still clothed weight fell on top of her, she realized that she needed this. She didn’t just want it. She damn well deserved it. And who better to do it with than a guy who knew what he was doing? A guy who wouldn’t fumble around.
The stranger tore his mouth from hers. “You taste so fucking good,” he groaned before he bent his head and moved to her breasts. His hand still traced dizzying patterns down- down there, and when his mouth clamped onto her nipple and he suckled her, Tia’s back jacked right off the damn stairs.
She buried her fingers through the guy’s blonde hair. It was longer than most people wore it, shaved at the sides, but flowing on top. Well, flowing might have been a stretch. Her fingers smoothed through the hair oil that he used to keep everything in place and even that was somehow wildly exciting.
“You have the most- perfect tits.” As if to prove it, the guy dusted a path of erotic kisses over to her right breast and claimed her other nipple.
Tia whimpered. Loudly. She’d never heard a sound like that come out of herself before. She almost forgave him for calling them tits when he could make her feel like that.
When the guy removed his mouth from her nipple, which was shiny and hard and aching furiously, he looked up at her.
“You’re watching me,” he drawled in that sexy, sinful, deep voice of his. “I like that. I like that a lot. Maybe deep down you have some bad girl in you after all.”
I’m doing this aren’t I? On the damn stairs… isn’t that proof enough? She inhaled deeply, scenting the dark, spicy scent of cologne or aftershave and something wilder, sexier, more primal, something distinctly male. It made her senses swim. She realized what was missing. The smell of regret. The taste of it was curiously absent as well. There was no bad taste in her mouth. Just the taste of him, the lingering tang of some kind of hard alcohol mixed with glorious dark, sinful, male and her own feminine musk.
Lonely Rider - The Box Set: A Motorcycle Club Romance - The Complete Series Page 15
