He leaned over her and unzipped her jeans. Her skin felt as if it were on fire, and it wasn’t the only thing as he slid them down her legs, taking her black cotton panties with them. Tossing them aside, he put his hands on her bare thighs and spread her legs wide. He gazed down at her, his expression hard, and she felt self-conscious again. Shy. Uncomfortable. She tried to close her legs—this wasn’t how things usually happened in her experience. Saxon barely ever bothered to look at her; he usually spent a few seconds stroking between her legs and then thrust into her when he felt ready, missionary position every single time. He’d certainly never stared at her sex like it was something he wanted to gobble up.
“Don’t,” Travis whispered, his pressure on her thighs warm and firm, stopping her from closing them. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Let me look at you.” And then he reached out and ran his index finger—slowly, tormentingly—over her slit. She couldn’t help herself; she thrust up into his hand, desperate to have his fingers inside her. And he obliged, fucking her with his fingers, first one and then another.
“Oh,” she moaned, her arms outstretched and her hands gripping the sheets as he so easily found her clit, rubbing over it with just the perfect amount of pressure.
“That’s the way, baby. You’re so wet, so ready for me, so hot.”
The pleasure rose within her, Travis’s words and his touch more arousing, more erotic, than anything she’d experienced with Saxon or anyone before. Just when she was approaching the edge, Travis removed his hands and she whimpered. She was about to beg for his fingers back upon her, when he put his mouth there instead.
She cried out in bliss. Her hands moved to his head, her fingers curling in his hair as his tongue delved deep inside her. Any control she had over the situation vanished as she felt Travis devouring her as if she were ice cream on a stick. A few deft strokes of his talented tongue and she was a panting mess. As if sensing she was close, he added his finger to the mix again, pushing it deep inside and touching it to the most sensitive spot in her body. She lost it. Her orgasm smashed over her, shattering her completely.
But he kept going, licking and sucking and stroking, and she didn’t know it was possible to feel this good, to come again and again and again in the course of a few minutes.
“Travis,” she panted. “I can’t take anymore.”
Without a word, he pulled back and she lay there on the bed, smiling like a lunatic and wondering if she’d ever recover enough to catch her breath. Vaguely she registered the crackling of plastic. And then…oh my…Travis was looming over her. She’d thought herself utterly spent, but as she gazed at his impressive erection sheathed in a condom, energy surged within her. She reached for his cock, desperate to touch him and give him even a fraction of the pleasure he’d given her, but he pushed her hand away, instead reaching for the sweater, now the only thing stopping them being skin on skin. He yanked it over her head and then rid her of her bra with an expertise that told her he had plenty of experience. She pushed that thought aside, not wanting anything to ruin this unreal experience.
His gaze swept over her body and her nipples throbbed, desperate for his attention, but instead he flipped her over, his hands on her waist as he positioned her onto all fours.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t sure whether she managed to say those words aloud before he entered her and they both gasped. Despite his size, there was none of the pain she sometimes had during lovemaking. No awkwardness or wishing it would be over quick. She was so wet, he slid right in and then stayed there a second, before reaching around and grabbing hold of her breasts. He wasn’t gentle, but it felt fantastic, and then he finally began to thrust. Billie pushed back against him, loving the feeling of him filling her but wanting even more. Wanting everything.
As he increased his pace inside her, all the while touching and teasing her nipples, setting them on fire, she felt her body taking over. Travis moved his hands to her waist, gripping her hips firmly as he rode her even deeper. He uttered a guttural sound and she lost herself in the moment, screaming and shuddering as Travis brought them both to release, giving her an orgasm unlike any she’d ever had before.
Sure, she climaxed fine on her own, or when Saxon used his fingers, but she’d never really managed to do so during actual intercourse. She’d accepted this, thinking she was just one of those women who couldn’t come in that manner, but she’d been living a lie.
Travis Sinclair had just shown her the truth.
“Fuck me! I haven’t done that in a while,” he said, finally letting go of her hips and sliding out.
She flopped onto the bed, totally spent, only just finding the energy to turn her head and look at him. His dark skin glistened with perspiration, making his tattoos stand out more than usual. “What? Had sex?”
He chuckled. “No, had sex in a bed.”
“Where do you usually have sex?” she asked, before realizing she didn’t really want to know the answer. It wasn’t that she’d harbored any illusions of Travis being a monk, but she didn’t want to ruin the most amazing sexual experience of her life with the knowledge that it was nothing special to him.
He shrugged. “Boardroom tables, hotel room floors, elevators, showers, hot tubs…”
“Okay, okay.” She rolled over and held up her hand; it sounded as if he could go on indefinitely, but she’d heard enough. “I get the picture.”
“Don’t get jealous, princess,” he said, reaching out and trailing his hand from the hollow of her neck down over her belly and to the now incredibly sensitive spot between her legs.
“I’m not jealous,” she scoffed, trying not to react as his fingers dipped inside. How was it even possible that she’d completely lost it less than a minute ago and already her body was gearing up to take him again?
“I think you are a little bit. I like it.” He skated his whole palm tenderly over her mound, teasing her with the lightest of touches, and then he removed his hand and scooted to the edge of the bed. She stopped herself from asking him where he was going and if he was coming back, not wanting to appear needy. She didn’t want to need anyone.
“I’m getting rid of the condom and then I’m taking a shower,” he said as he headed for her bedroom door. “You can join me if you want.”
She shouldn’t. After the way he’d just made her feel—as if she was just another one of his cheap tarts—she should roll over and try to expel him from her mind. But she wanted to. More than almost anything she’d wanted before, she wanted to trail after him down the corridor and worship him in the shower. She practically salivated thinking about what all those tattoos would look like under the hot spray of water, what their bodies would feel like slick against each other with only water and soap suds between them.
Without another thought she leaped from the bed and hurried after him, her arms and legs still shaky from the sex. He’d disposed of the condom and was reaching into the shower when she arrived. She paused at the entrance of the bathroom, stealing a moment to simply stare at his naked beauty. While she had no complaints about the sex they’d had, the position hadn’t given her the opportunity to really look at him. As an artist, or a once wannabe artist at least, she was desperate to examine his ink and his beautiful body in more detail. To trail her fingers over his muscles, admiring the detail in his tattoos, imprinting them in her mind.
He stepped into the shower and dropped his neck back as the water sluiced over him. Billie swallowed, fighting a strong impulse to run down the corridor and grab her pencils and sketch pad. Travis would make a beautiful life model, and she could just imagine him permanently hanging on her wall.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” he muttered. “Get in here and suck my cock.”
She blinked. Had she heard that correctly? Maybe he thought she owed him after the amazing things his tongue had done to her. Maybe so, but she was done with men who thought they could control her or order her around. She opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but found the
words refused to form on her tongue. Instead, what felt like an invisible string pulled her toward him as if she’d lost all control of her body and her senses. Utterly mesmerized by his naked beauty, she found herself stepping into the shower, all but handing herself over to his whims. Despite the warm water, Billie shivered as Travis yanked the stripy multicolored curtain shut behind them.
His cock was already hard again, pressed against her belly, reminding her of what he’d just demanded. While her head told her to resist on principle, her mouth watered in delicious anticipation. Without another thought, she licked her lips as she dropped onto her knees. His hands came down on the back of her head, forcing her toward him, and she flicked out her tongue and touched it to the tip of his erection. Nothing had ever tasted so good.
—
Anticipation tightened in Travis’s gut as Billie swirled her tongue around his dick, her hand gripping him at the same time, heightening the pleasure. Her touch heated his skin far more than the hot water that rained down on top of them and he let his head fall back, trying to lose himself in the sensations.
He’d demanded she give him a BJ because he’d wanted to regain the control he’d felt slipping away as he’d ridden her. He hadn’t been kidding when he told her it was the first sex he’d had in a bed in a long while, and the confession had stunned him as much as it had her. In fact, he could barely remember the last time he’d shared a bed with a woman. But it hadn’t just been the location. The sex had been different, too—he’d felt a closeness to Billie he hadn’t felt with any of his sex partners before. He hadn’t just been pleasing her so that he could then get his rocks off; he’d been pleasing her because he wanted to. Needed to.
And that scared the bejesus out of him.
It made things personal, which was something he couldn’t allow. Sex for him had never been personal. It had always been about the release, ridding his body of the pent-up tension that seemed to perpetually live inside him. He got angry, and he needed an avenue to expel that anger. Sex was the lesser of two evils, better than beating up on someone, which was the other surefire way to achieve the same result. Although he couldn’t imagine pounding someone would ever feel as good as fucking Billie had. Or as good as what she was now doing with her mouth and tongue.
He groaned and steadied his hands against the wall of the shower cubicle, the cool tiles a sharp contrast to the heat inside him. Her grip tightened on the bottom of his cock as she sucked him whole into her mouth. She swirled her tongue and then started to suck as if she were as desperate to get him off as he was to get off. He glanced down and the sight of her head moving back and forth in rhythm as she increased her speed almost pushed him over the edge, but he clamped down on his lower lip, wanting to prolong this as much as he could.
But holy fuck, she was good. It was without a doubt the best head he’d ever had, and as she glanced up and met his gaze, he realized he wasn’t in control here at all. She might be the one on her knees, but he was entirely at her mercy.
Billie wasn’t anything like the kind of woman he usually fooled around with. She was fun, sweet and naturally beautiful without the need for makeup and slutty clothes. She was softer than the women he sometimes worked with and fiercer than those he usually took to bed. Yet she wasn’t like a biker bitch, either. He couldn’t imagine her ever wanting to wear a patch that read “Property of Cash.” But damn, what a thought…He’d never wanted anyone to wear such a patch anyway and he still didn’t. He was a one-man band, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge in a little more monkey sex with the little gallery owner while he was in town. Didn’t he deserve a distraction from all the other crap?
If it was possible, she smiled around his cock, licking and then gently nipping the tip before once again swallowing him whole. He lost it. Unable to fight it a moment longer, any grip he had on control spiraled into oblivion. He pressed his hands harder against the tiles as he arched into her mouth and exploded.
“Fuck! Billie!” Her name echoed around the room, but he almost didn’t recognize his own voice. She swallowed and then he reached down, dragging her up and holding her against him. He pressed his mouth to hers—if anything, his need for her growing stronger—and tasted himself on her lips.
“Was that okay?” she asked, when they broke apart for air.
He gazed down at her, admiring the perfect curve of her shoulder, the beautiful swells of her breasts. Was she kidding? How could she imagine that was anything but?
“Yes,” he told her. “It was fucking spectacular.”
She rubbed her lips together and then put her hands on his chest. She stared down at his tattoos and he stilled as she traced her fingers over the massive eagle with its wings outstretched across his chest, perched atop the Harley-Davidson logo. But her gaze moved to the fleur-de-lis on his arm. She touched a finger to it.
“If you hate New Orleans so much, why this?”
He stared down at her finger. “I didn’t always hate it,” he admitted. “Growing up it wasn’t exactly a fucking paradise, but that wasn’t the city’s fault. And then when I joined the MC, I really felt like this was where I belonged.”
“So what changed? Why did you leave the club?”
He sucked in a breath. For some fucked-up reason he felt like telling her about the job they’d done ten years ago and the spiral of events that had followed—that it hadn’t exactly been his choice to walk. But he didn’t talk about his time in the Deacons or what had happened with anyone. He shrugged. “It was time. I wanted a different life for myself. A fresh start.”
She nodded as if accepting this. “You don’t mind the branding on your back?”
He shook his head. “No matter who I am now, the MC is a part of me. Always will be.”
“Which is why you’re still here?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m still here.” And the only good thing about that was the woman in his arms. If she agreed to it, he might as well make the most of the electricity between them while he was around. He’d just be careful that he was the one calling the shots.
“Are you any closer to finding out who murdered Mr. Lombard?”
Travis froze, his cock, which had already been perking up again, softening. “What the hell do you know about that?”
Despite his tone, she didn’t even flinch. “If you and your friends wanted it to be secret, you should have kept your voices down the night they were over.”
Fuck! He’d been so focused on the situation, he hadn’t thought about Billie overhearing.
“Relax,” Billie said, running her hands over him again. “If his death wasn’t an accident, then the murderer needs to be brought to justice. I just hope you find the right guy. Or guys. And maybe consider handing them over to the cops instead of enacting justice yourself. Do you think that other biker club could be involved?”
Travis captured her mouth again with his. This conversation was over. Even if she wasn’t about to report them to the cops, he didn’t want her in any way involved with the investigation of Priest’s death. Another reason to find the culprit ASAP and get the hell back out of NOLA.
She forgot about her questions pretty quickly and they stayed in the shower, playing dirty until the water ran cold. Then, against his better judgment, Travis followed Billie back to her room, climbed into her bed, spooned up against her naked body and went to sleep with Baxter curled up on the floor beside them.
Chapter 8
Billie didn’t want to get out of bed. It wasn’t just that muscles she didn’t know she had ached from their overnight workout or the fact that she felt so tired she didn’t know if she’d be able to string a sentence together today. It was that she didn’t want to extricate herself from Travis’s arms. Lying as she was, she could feel something deliciously hard pushing into her back, but his heavy, even breathing told her he was still fast asleep. Waiting until he was awake and then dealing with that hard thing was more appealing than anything else. An illicit shiver washed through her at the thought, but Baxter h
ad his paws up on the bed and she knew from experience that any moment now he would start licking her face. He’d already let her sleep in longer than she usually did.
Holding her breath, she slid out of Travis’s grasp and snuck out of bed, crossing the room and dressing as quickly and quietly as possible in her underwear, a denim skirt and a fitted T-shirt. She glanced back at Travis as she brushed her hair and almost drooled a little at his bare, bronzed skin and perfect body. He was an artist’s dream, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to do him justice.
“Come on, Baxter¸” she whispered, knowing she needed to drag herself away and start the day. With the threat of the possible sale of her building over her head, it was more vital than ever that she open the gallery. If Travis saw how much of a success it was, maybe she could get him to reconsider his determination to sell. Besides, he needed to get his strength up, because she very much hoped what they’d done in the early hours of the morning wasn’t going to be a one-off.
Yawning, Billie dragged herself down the corridor and into the kitchen, Baxter at her heels the whole time. She opened the door to let him into the courtyard and then made a beeline for the coffee machine. Until she’d downed at least one coffee, she never felt alive, and today she needed it more than usual. Three gallons might not even do the job. As the coffee brewed, Baxter trotted back inside and sat beneath his leash, which hung on a hook on the wall.
“Sorry, little guy, no walk this morning,” she told him as she shook some dog biscuits into his bowl. He gave her a puppy pout and then started on the bowl, while she made herself the coffee and then slumped at the table…both utterly fatigued and invigorated at the same time. She drank slowly, letting the caffeine seep into her bones as she drifted off into recollections of the night before. If she hadn’t just left Travis asleep in her bed, and if her muscles didn’t feel like she’d just run a marathon, she might have thought last night was nothing but a dream. An erotic, naughty dream starring herself and the kind of guy she’d never imagined being into.
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