Lonely Rider - The Box Set: A Motorcycle Club Romance - The Complete Series

by Melissa Devenport

  He watched desire war with disgust, hunger battle shame.

  “I know I’m going to win,” he whispered, voice like gravel, but that was on purpose. “I know that at the end of thirty minutes, you’re going to be mine. I know that in less than five, you’re going to be grabbing for that pillow to smother your cries of pleasure.”

  His goddess choked, but he watched doubt, the most beautiful emotion, flicker in the beautiful pools of her eyes. “You’re pretty fucking confident in yourself.”

  Creed wished he could climb into those eyes and drown there. He wished, even more fervently, that he could climb inside of her, seat himself in what he already knew was going to be a tight, beautiful pussy, and let himself burst inside of her.

  “Maybe I have a right to be.”

  “Why don’t you have any tattoos?”

  It wasn’t exactly the question that he was expecting, but Creed grinned. “Why? I don’t know. Never had the urge to get any I guess.”

  “I thought all bikers and bad guys had tattoos.”

  He snorted. “Oh lord. You sound like my grandma. Scratch that. I never had one. But if I did, you’d sound like her. And she’d be eighty. And fat. And bake chocolate chip cookies and drink tea.”

  “What the hell is wrong with tea?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. You must like it. Are you really a granny hiding under all those beautiful layers?”

  “Fuck you.” She slapped at his face. Hard.

  I wish you would. The blow glanced off his cheekbone, where a bruise was already healing. Pain radiated out from the spot, but it was delicious. He wished she’d hit him again. She obviously got the memo, because she raised her hand and balled it into a fist. She was about to strike him, but he caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips, where he peppered her knuckles with kisses.

  She got immediately hotter and wetter and she couldn’t stop herself from squirming against him. Which of course sent his cock into overdrive. His balls tightened at the feel of her, writhing away up there. If she was trying to get away, she could at least do it a little less sexually.

  But then again, everything his goddess did was sexual. Even just living and breathing.

  She was made for sex.

  She was made for him.

  He tugged on her hand and she pitched forward, so that their faces were only an inch apart. He licked the tip of her pretty little nose. “Why fight it? I know you want me. Your body tells me that you want me. I can smell your sweet, pussy from here.”

  “What the fuck? Who says something like that?” she spat out right next to his lips.

  She inhaled sharply, probably because she was pissed as hell, but she obviously got a whole lot more than she bargained for. He watched her face change and knowing that the raw desire there was brought on by inhaling his scent, his skin, his body… it did something wicked to his insides.

  It did something wicked to his outside too.

  “How about you tell me your name and you take those fucking pants off? I can feel you right through them. I know how hot you are, how wet you are. I can feel it all.”

  She let out a strangled, anguished sound, deep at the back of her throat. Her desire was so obvious it filled up the room. So was the scent of her. God, she smelled like something pretty and girly, delicate and delicious. It wasn’t that alone that drove him mental. It was the smell of her, the smell of sex. He wasn’t kidding when he said he could smell her pussy and god… he was a man and she was a beautiful woman and whatever control he had left was about to snap completely.

  “You’re hurt,” she panted, unable to keep her voice normal. She’d stopped denying that she was turned on. That was a step in the right direction.

  “That doesn’t matter.” He was so close he could see a few delicate freckles across the bridge of her nose that he hadn’t noticed before.

  “So you didn’t really fall in the hallway?” Her lips pursed. Even without a scrap of makeup, she was so insanely beautiful it hurt to look at her.

  “Oh, I did. That wasn’t all an act.”

  “And you magically regained your strength right as we got to this bed.”

  “Something like that. Right about the same time you fell on top of me. That revived me pretty damn fast.”

  “You’re a pig.”

  “Well, either you like animals or that’s a good thing.”

  She went to stick her tongue out at him, actually stick her tongue out like a four-year-old, and he took the opportunity to grip the back of her head, bury his hands in her soft, ebony hair, and drag her face to him. He captured her lips and he kissed her. She kissed him back like they were going to war, battling each other. It was vicious and feral, biting, licking, sucking.

  Her muscles strained below him. For someone who was delicate and utterly feminine, those muscles were long and lean and hard. His cock throbbed between them. She was going to kill him. She’d make good on her threats, or maybe finish what Jim and his cronies started.

  Creed pulled back and traced her bottom lip with his tongue. She panted, her breaths hitting his lips, his mouth, his face.

  “Would you like me to do that somewhere else?”

  She pulled away, shuddering. Creed stared at her, at how her full breasts strained against the fabric of her tight t-shirt. Her nipples peaked right through whatever bra she might have on. He needed her. He needed her more than anything he’d ever known. He needed to taste her, to hear those sexy cries he knew she’d make when he thrust his tongue deep inside of her.

  “You’re- a… bastard,” she panted.

  “Yes. I know. You’ve said that before. That wasn’t my question. Would you like me to get up and lock that door, peel those fucking leggings off and lick your cunt?”

  “God. You’re filthy… who even uses that word anymore?”

  “I’m sorry. Vagina. Is that better?” She went to hit him again, but he stopped her fist, just like before. “You might want to be careful what you do with that,” he warned. “Hitting me only makes me harder.”

  “I… no. Let me go. I don’t want this. I don’t want any part of this. You’re a sick fucking bastard, coming here, taking advantage of me, tricking me. I’m not joking around. Let. Me. Go.”

  Creed sighed. He did as she asked. He might be a hell of a lot of other things, but he’d never take a woman against her will. He released her wrist and moved his arms away. He nearly cried out in pain as she climbed off of him. She pressed her knee to his balls as a warning or one last parting shot, but even that sting felt good. Far too good. Maybe he was a sick bastard. Sick over her.

  As his goddess walked to the door, he just about lost it. He’d never, ever, felt anything close to the torturous pain that wracked his body. It had nothing to do with the wounds or the beating or the bullet hole in his shoulder. Absolutely nothing. He’d never felt that way before, like a spark of something deep inside of him had just been extinguished. Like losing her was like losing everything worth living for.

  His hands balled into fists and he ground his teeth against the pain, both physical and otherwise. He wasn’t good at feeling shit. Deciphering that feeling, and he wasn’t going to even attempt it at the moment. There’d be time for that later. After he got the hell out of there.

  The thought of leaving his goddess behind hurt. It hurt like another bullet, tearing apart his insides, causing a slow, excruciating bleed out.

  His goddess reached the door. Her hand hit the handle. She didn’t turn it. Her back and shoulders went completely stiff. She stayed that way for a long, long time.

  Creed froze. He hardly dared to breathe, to think, to hope. Somewhere between the time he’d been shot and crawled up onto Jack’s doorstep and now, he’d become one mighty huge pussy.

  “You know what?” Dainty fingers turned the lock. “I was just basically accused of being a whore. Which I’m not. Is it so wrong to enjoy this? To want to feel alive?” She spun around, anger twisting her features, but she was still breathtaking. “If I was a guy
they’d call me all sorts of names. All sorts of names that have everything to do with being a stud or a champion or a goddamn hero. But because I’m a woman and I like to enjoy myself here and there, I’m a slut? I don’t fucking think so.”

  Creed pulled himself up against the pillows. She was trying to prove a point? To herself? To someone else? He was confused as hell, but he’d take being a point. He’d even take being a pity fuck at the moment. He’d take anything. Yup. Definitely a motherfucking pussy over here.

  “You’re not a whore,” he said softly as he watched her take her first step back towards the bed. “You’re not a slut. I’ll fucking kill whoever said those words.”

  “No one has ever said them exactly. It’s just implied.”

  “You’re a goddess. A sweet, sensual, goddess. No one should ever tell you otherwise. You are beautiful. The most beautiful woman on earth.”

  She laughed and he didn’t like the sound. It was too bitter, too harsh, too angry. “You’re already going to get laid, so you don’t have to bother with that.”

  “What?”

  “Trying to tell me the things you think I want to hear.”

  Creed swung his legs off the edge of the bed. He didn’t exactly trust himself to stand, but he did it anyway. He only swayed for a second before he righted himself. She was so close, only an arm’s length away.

  “Don’t,” he said thickly. “Don’t doubt for a second that every single world I’ve told you is the truth. From the moment I opened my eyes and saw you, I knew you were mine.”

  The woman moved her hands to her hips in a bossy stance. Humor danced in her eyes and he was thankful to see her happy, even if it was at his expense. “I’m not anyone’s.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” He reached out and cupped her face. He bent his head and brought his lips to hers, but stopped just an inch away. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. You were just waiting for the right person, the right moment. That’s why you’re single. It’s why you’re here now. Because you know what you want.”

  “If you think having sex makes me yours, you must have taken a few too many blows to the head.”

  He grinned and pulled her closer, so that their noses touched. Her breaths came harder, little pants that told him it was all an act. She didn’t leave because she didn’t really want to. Most women wouldn’t have had the courage to stay, but not her. Not his goddess. She did what she wanted and made no excuses to anyone. She was all fire and wilderness and courage combined in one beautiful package.

  Above all, she was wrong. She was going to be his, even if she didn’t know it.

  Chapter 7

  KATE

  There were a lot of men over the years. Kate knew she wasn’t like most women. Most women cared what people thought. They’d cared about what society told them they should be. She, on the other hand, had always wanted to enjoy herself. She’d enjoyed the power she had over guys, at first, but then it was something else. A feeling she was chasing. Something she never quite managed to hold onto.

  Standing there with Creed’s hands cupping her face, his lips a breath away from hers, their warm breaths mingling, she had to admit, she felt it. Whatever it was she’d been trying to feel, trying to find, chasing for so long.

  It scared her to death.

  So she concentrated on her body instead. She got out of her head and became aware of her slamming heart, her wild pulse, the constant ache between her thighs, the shivers in her legs, the way her nipples felt raw against the lace of her bra… physical could do. It was the other shit she couldn’t handle.

  Which seemed about right. Because obviously Creed wasn’t into that either.

  “Alright,” she ceded, too easily and he knew it. “I’ll be yours. For right now. I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about right now, when I’m supposed to be keeping watch. We probably have a half hour window before someone comes looking for one of us. You have thirty minutes to make me yours.”

  He let out a low growl in his throat. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

  “Isn’t it?” she asked coyly. If he wanted to play, she could play all night.

  His hand caressed her cheek, slowly, gently, with shocking intimacy, and something vibrated deep inside of her. Something cold and dead sparked to life. She didn’t want to think about that, so she gripped Creed’s neck and crushed their lips together.

  She kissed him, but the flames spread, consuming them both. He steered her, awkwardly, towards the bed. She realized what she was doing was crazy. This guy was dangerous. He was probably a felon, and if he hadn’t been caught before, he was definitely still lawless. He was probably crazy. He was definitely far too attractive for a man who had just been nearly beaten to death. He was injured and he could barely walk a straight line, but he was ready to fuck her senseless. The crazy part in all of it, was that she believed he could do it.

  Her entire being vibrated as she was shoved roughly against the bed. She fell on top of the messed up sheets. Creed wasted no time. He gripped her pants and savagely ripped them down her legs. She wasn’t wearing underwear and he let out a growl that was absolutely animalistic. He went for her shirt next, wrangling it, tearing it away from her. Her lacy bra, which had been ridiculously expensive for what it was, a scrap of fabric, fared no better. It was torn away, ruined beyond repair.

  “Lord,” Creed swore under his breath. He fell to his knees and Kate had no idea whether he was too weak to stand or if she had that effect on him. Either way, he tugged her roughly to the edge of the bed and wrapped her legs shameless over his shoulders.

  She let him manhandle her, let her thighs fall open. Her nipples, which were already hard peaked to a level that could cut glass. Creed bent his head between her legs and something dark and wild inside of her vibrated from her toes all the way up to her ears.

  Kate thrust her fingers into his short, wet hair. She dug her nails into his scalp and was rewarded with a grunt of pain. Creed gripped her waist and when he tasted her, he tasted her like he was fucking famished. He devoured her. He wasn’t gentle. He actually nipped her a couple times. Sparks erupted deep inside and a rush of wetness coated Creed’s mouth.

  He responded by digging his fingers into her ass, as he jammed his hands up behind her and lifted her, opening her. He speared her with his tongue, thrusting it deep inside of her opening. She moaned and bucked her hips. He lapped at her like a man possessed. There was no reason or rhythm. There was no slow casual perusal of her folds or her clit or anything else.

  She was like anything else in his life, she was willing to wager. He saw something he wanted and he took it. He took it with everything he had.

  And it was sexy as hell. Beyond sexy… if he was claiming her, she damn well wanted him to.

  Kate wasn’t going to make it easy for him. She fought him, bucking against his face, writhing and rocking into him. She thrust her hips shamelessly forward and rode his mouth. She held herself back, thinking about anything else other than the pleasure.

  And then, because he was a real bastard, Creed slowed the pace down. His hands slid away from her ass and he licked her, slowly, from her opening all the way to her clit. He gently circled her with his tongue, before he blew out a hot breath directly over the bundle of nerves that made Kate ache all the way to the bottom of her toes.

  He brought his hand up and pushed a finger gently through her folds, covering it in the ample wetness that pooled there. He licked her gently, circling her clit on the way, back, up, and slowly, agonizingly, he inserted a finger inside of her.

  Kate’s whole body clenched around his finger. Fuck. A finger shouldn’t feel this good. And his tongue… my god. Creed had been born with a tongue for a reason, and he knew how to use it. He devastated her clit, danced over the nerves. She began to shake and she knew whatever she thought about wasn’t going to hold off the climax that was coming.

  “I can tell you like that,” Creed said. He didn’t lift his head, but kept
right on slowly caressing her while he teased her with his fucking talented finger.

  She let out a wild moan and slapped a hand over her mouth. What the fuck is wrong with me? Jack and Tia are upstairs! She wasn’t going to stop. Neither was Creed. It didn’t matter that he was kind of like an enemy or that he was hunted or that he was anything at all. She wanted him. She wanted him and even if she was supposed to be keeping watch, even if she was in her sister’s house, she was going to do what she wanted.

  When Creed slid his finger away, she nearly cried out again, at the unjustness of his action. She stopped herself on time by slamming her top teeth into her bottom lip. She bit down so hard the metallic tang of blood flooded her mouth.

  And then, Creed’s tongue and finger changed spots. He lapped at her opening before he thrust his tongue inside. He brought his finger up and slowly, gently, massaged her clit.

  He did it for a minute, until she was straining and her legs were shaking and the muscles in her stomach stood out as her back jacked on and off the bed.

  Creed lifted his head, just for a second, and looked right at her. “I can tell you like that. You like my mouth, fucking you. You like my tongue inside of you.”

  “Not as much as I’ll enjoy your cock.”

  His eyes darkened. Big time. Maybe it was a mistake to challenge him, but she couldn’t take the words back. They hung, far more exciting than they should, in the air between them.

  “I have no doubt about that,” he said thickly. “But for now, I want you to come on my face. On my tongue. You think you can be a good girl and do that?”

  “Fuck you,” she hissed, but his finger was already back at her clit.

  “That’s the point,” he said dryly before he dipped his head.

  His mouth and his finger were a devastating combination. One Kate couldn’t fight any longer. She let go, let the climax take her. It was probably the best fucking climax she’d ever experienced in her life. Her back and shoulders jacked right off the bed and she slammed both her hands over her mouth to keep the screams inside. She panted and hissed against her fingers, against the closed seems of her lips. She closed her eyes and let the bright lights bursting there take her away. She floated away, out of her body, out of her skin. She felt like she was in a vortex, tumbled and tossed about.