by Atlas, Lilly
Her bubbly personality emerged more and more throughout dinner. It was as though Tanner had been holding her back, stifling the real Marcie. Before he knew it, she was laughing and joking as if no time had passed. That sound, the joyful ring of her amusement, pulled all the blood to his cock and he spent the majority of dinner hard as a stone beneath the cover of the outdoor table.
“I feel like I’ve been rambling the entire time. You guys must be sick of hearing about me. Tell me everything that’s happened around here since I left.” Her eyes sparkled and her face had an adorable flush to it. Probably a combination of the heat of the day and the three beers she’d drank with dinner.
Hook didn’t care how much she rambled on. He could listen to her all night. Listen to her and just watch her move in that provocative dress that made her look fresh and innocent. Christ, he was becoming a sappy motherfucker. Striker smirked at him like he knew the direction of Hook’s thoughts. He flipped his brother the bird, discretely, so Marcie wouldn’t notice.
“Actually, Marce, I gotta take off.” Striker rose from the table, the shit-eating grin on his face even bigger than it as a second ago. The asshole would bust Hook’s balls for weeks to come given the way Hook had been drooling over Marcie. “I have some shit to take care of at the clubhouse.” He strolled around the table and dropped a chaste kiss on Marcie’s head. She stared up at him with affection and love, but none of the smoky desire her green eyes held when she looked at Hook.
Thank God for that. And thank God Striker seemed to feel as brotherly toward her now as he had ten years ago. Because Hook would have one hell of a fight on his hands if Striker wanted more from her.
“Glad you’re here, baby doll. I hope you’ll think about sticking around for a bit.”
Marcie stood and hugged Striker tight. “I just might do that.” Hook met her gaze over Striker’s shoulder. He’d do everything in his power to make sure she stayed. At least until they had the chance to explore the sizzling heat between them.
“Want to go for a ride with me?” he asked after Striker disappeared around the side of the house and Marcie returned to her seat.
She glanced at the setting sun then gave him a beaming smile. “I’d love to.” She pointed to her dress. “But I’m not exactly dressed for it and it’s already getting cool.”
Damn, he couldn’t wait to feel her wrapped around him on his bike. “I’ve got something to keep you warm.”
She raised a sassy eyebrow and he barked out a loud laugh. “I mean a jacket, babe, but I like where your dirty mind is going.” He winked and hopped up from the table. “Be right back.” With quick steps, he darted into the house and retrieved the leather jacket he’d purchased for her earlier in the day. No question, he’d hoped this night would end speeding through the desert with Marcie on the back of his bike. Okay, so he hoped the night would end with screaming orgasms, but this was a perfect place to start.
“You just had that lying around, huh?” she asked as he emerged with the jacket.
Hook’s face heated. Thank fuck Striker had gone. He’d torture Hook to death if he knew Hook was one step away from blushing. What the hell was it about Marcie that turned him into a fuckin’ teddy bear? Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d been more like a grizzly an hour ago with Tanner, and would be that way with any threat to her. Couldn’t help it. He wanted to protect her, take care of her, wrap her in cotton and ensure nothing evil ever touched her. She’d known too much of that in her childhood. Didn’t matter how much she professed she could take care of herself. He still wanted the job.
“I…uh…oh fuck it. I picked this up earlier today. Since I saw you last night, I’ve been dying to have you on my bike.” Christ, was that just last night?
“Well, thank you.” She reached for the offered jacket. “You’re very sweet, Hook.”
He grunted.
“Don’t worry,” she said as she slipped the jacket on. “I’ll keep that to myself. Well? What do you think?” She twirled on her heel, arms out.
He swallowed. Maybe he’d just bend her over the table and fuck her right here. That flirty yellow sundress under the bad-girl leather jacket was enough to give him a stroke. “Smokin’, baby,” he said, adjusting his stance as the stiffness in his groin grew uncomfortable behind his jeans.
“What are we waiting for?” Marcie winked and sashayed past him, her hot-as-hell ass twitching just below the jacket.
Goddamn this woman fucked with his control.
Excitement zinged through Marcie’s blood. She hadn’t been on the back of a bike in…well, ten years. And then it had always been Striker’s crappy old bike he’d worked his ass off to restore. She racked her brain trying to remember a time Hook had taken her on a ride on his junky buke, but couldn’t recall any instances. Huh. Well she couldn’t wait for it now.
She felt…good, light and happy. Tanner had been out of her life for just one hour and she already felt like a new woman. Although if she was being honest, Hook was primarily responsible for the giddy enthusiasm that practically had her bouncing after him toward his garage.
The heavy metal door slid up and Hook ducked under when it was about halfway open. Marcie followed suit and gazed around the garage. Two motorcycles—worlds nicer than what he’d had as a kid—and some kind of sporty-looking car filled the large space along with some tools, an extra refrigerator and a few cases of beer. Typical man stuff.
“Here, Marce.”
She turned to find Hook standing next to one of the bikes, a shiny black helmet extended toward her. “Thanks,” she said as she reached for the helmet. She worked it down over her short locks—which would look just fantastic after the helmet came back off—and fastened the clasp.
“Let me adjust it.” Hook finagled the strap until it hugged her chin in a snug but not uncomfortable fit. “Good to go.” He patted the top of the helmet and turned to the bike.
Marcie tried not to ogle his ass as he swung a leg over the bike and donned his own helmet. She really tried. But it was a useless effort. The man had a prime backside. What could she say?
“Hop on, babe.”
“You know,” she said as she slipped into position behind him and tried to tuck her dress under her legs, “I don’t think I’ve ever been on a bike with you before. A million times with Striker, but never with you. Isn’t that weird?”
Hook grunted. “No, babe. It’s not weird. In about thirty seconds, you’ll find out exactly why I never had you on the back of my bike.” With that cryptic statement, he fired up the bike and rolled them out of the garage. “Ready?”
“You bet.” Feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, Marcie molded herself to Hook’s back and hugged tight around his waist. He twisted the throttle and shot off down the road.
And then, she got it. Fully understood the reason Hook hadn’t allowed her teenage self to ride with him. All along her stomach and breasts, the corded muscles of his back bunched and flexed as he steered. His firm, bounce-a-quarter-off-it ass nestled in the V of her legs, providing just enough friction to make sitting still difficult. The position was perfection, like they were two puzzle pieces built to fit just so.
It was foreplay. Plain and simple. And her body reacted in the predictable way, dampening her panties and preparing her for something that might not happen. Could he tell? Could he feel the searing heat generated between their bodies? She should be ashamed, but the need rising inside her was fast overcoming any bashfulness.
Her nipples were hardened points that throbbed for his touch. Growing desperate for some kind of satisfaction, Marcie pushed her chest into his back. If she could just get the right angle. If the hard ridges of his muscles could just press into her nipples the right way, maybe she could find some relief from the deep ache.
Please don’t let Hook notice. Christ, she was practically humping his back. He’d think she was a pervert for sure.
In the next instant, a strong hand landed just above her left knee. The heat from his palm seared her bare sk
in. And she thought she’d be cold without pants. She was going to spontaneously combust any second now.
Hook slid his hand up her thigh, giving a light squeeze before returning to her knee. He knew. That had to be his way of letting her know he was fully aware of her predicament.
Question was, what did he plan to do about it?
Chapter Ten
Hook was dying. Marcie was literally killing him one slow grind of her pussy against his ass as a time. A whisper of a smile lifted his lips. She was in need, that was for damn sure. And who was he to deny her? Especially when his cock was mere seconds away from busting through his zipper?
He needed to find a spot to pull off the road. A spot that was private and secluded enough that he could bend her over the bike and fuck her like he’d been fantasizing. And he knew just where to go.
After cruising for another five minutes, Hook coasted to a stop on the side of the road. He and Striker used to bring Marcie to this very spot as kids. It was deep into the desert, a giant rock formation that arched over part of the road. During the day, the curving rock sheltered a small sliver of sand and road from the blistering sun. When life got shitty, as it often had, the three of them would escape out there and hide away from the heat of the day. Seemed a fitting place to bring Marcie tonight.
She climbed off the bike and removed her helmet, glancing around at her surroundings. If the smile on her face was any indication, she had fond memories of being here.
Hook couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was gorgeous, a ray of sunshine and light. Short blonde hair framed her slender face in a way that was classy and spunky at the same time. Darkened by lust, her green eyes looked everywhere but at him. No doubt she felt some awkwardness for the way she’d rubbed all over him on the ride.
Hook was having none of that. She could use his body any time in any damn way she pleased and he’d take whatever she had to dish out with a smile on his face. Every single time.
“Marcie?” He swung his long leg over the bike and took a step toward her.
Finally, she met his gaze. The green of her irises was almost completely swallowed up by her dilated pupils. A red flush crept up her neck, settling in her cheeks. Embarrassment or yearning? Her pixie hair was mussed from the helmet, giving her a rumpled, bedhead look.
Hook could barely walk. His cock was so stiff, it filled his jeans to capacity. After three stilted steps, he reached her and grasped the edges of her open leather jacket. He could still feel the ghost of the hardened tips of her breasts stabbing into his back while she rode behind him. Now, he needed to see the evidence of her want.
He pushed the jacket over her shoulders, down her arms, and caught it before it fell. As he tossed it on the bike behind him, his gaze was riveted to the two points poking at her pale-yellow dress. “Christ, Marcie,” he said. He couldn’t touch her. Not yet. Not until he heard from her that she was on the same page. “Tell me you want this. Please tell me you want this as much as I do.”
She shook her head and his stomach dipped to his knees. Had the buildup been all in his head? There was a chance he wouldn’t survive the night if he couldn’t find relief in her sweet body. She swallowed. “I think I might want this more than you do.”
Hook huffed out a laugh. “Not possible, babe. Not fuckin’ possible.” He snagged her around the waist and pulled her flush against him. The hard ridge of his erection nestled into the welcoming softness of her stomach. Heaven. Pure fucking heaven.
He slid a hand up her neck, sifting his hand through the short strands of her hair. With a light tug, he tipped her head back until he had her mouth just where he wanted it.
“Don’t make me wait,” she whispered. “I’ve waited forever for you, Hook.”
Wasn’t that the fucking truth. Without a second of hesitation, he took her mouth in a fierce kiss. She opened for him immediately, curling her tongue around his and kissing him like she wanted him as much as he wanted her. The taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her invaded all of his senses until everything in the universe that wasn’t Marcie ceased to exist.
While they fought for control of the consuming kiss, Marcie curled one slender leg around the back of Hook’s calf. She tightened her muscles and rocked her pelvis as though seeking friction to relieve an ache. He was too tall for them to line up properly in this position and she let out a low whimper when she couldn’t find satisfaction.
Hook trailed biting kisses across her jaw, capturing her earlobe between his teeth. “You need me, baby?” he whispered after giving it a tug.
“Yes, Hook. So bad. You have no idea.” She slipped her palms under his shirt and stroked the muscles of his back, her small hands igniting a fire of pleasure wherever they drifted.
“I’ve wanted under this damn dress all fucking afternoon.” Hook skimmed his hands up the outsides of her silky thighs, under the dress until he encountered her panties. “Eyes on me,” he said. With one hand, he pulled the soaked strip of fabric to the side, baring her folds for his touch. “Wet, baby, so fucking wet.”
She moaned and bit down on her bottom lip as he sank his thick middle finger in her pussy. “Oh, God.” She dropped her forehead to his chest. “Hook,” she whispered.
He began a slow thrust in and out, taking care to press up and forward each time he sank in deep. Marcie’s breathing sped up and whimpers of need flew from her mouth with every breath. With her head buried against his chest, she gripped his biceps so hard he’d probably have welts later.
This was the most pleasure he could ever remember, and his cock was still fully covered and untouched. It went far beyond the physical sensations to a sense of complete rightness. Marcie was the woman he was supposed to kiss, supposed to pleasure, supposed to…love? Hell, he didn’t know anything about love, but he knew he wanted Marcie. In his bed and in his life.
That should have freaked him out, would have if it was any other woman. But it was Marcie, and he was more than okay with it. Now, to figure out a way to get around her need to completely take care of herself and get her to let him in. Maybe even find a way to get her to stay.
Good didn’t begin to describe the sensations Hook was wringing from her body. The encounter didn’t compare to any of her past experiences. Because it was him. That had to be the reason.
He sank his finger in deep once again, this time swiping his thumb across her clit in the same moment. “Yes,” she said, dropping her head back on her shoulders. Hook chuckled and brought his lips to her exposed neck.
“I need to see your tits.” He spoke against her skin as he used his free hand to shove the straps of her dress down her shoulders. With a sharp tug, the front of her dress slipped down, baring her breasts to him.
“Christ,” Hook whispered, his eyes riveted to her chest. “You’re so damn pretty.”
Her heart swelled at his words. Any response died in her throat when he cupped her breasts and ducked his head, sucking a nipple into the heated depths of his mouth.
“Ahh,” she cried. Her hands flew to his head. He sucked with strong pulls while his finger still thrusted in and out and his thumb swiped circles around her clit. In seconds, she was moving her hips in time with his fingering as the world spun around her. “TJ,” she whispered, not two minutes later. “I’m gonna come.”
His given name leaving her mouth seemed to ramp him up even more and he groaned around her breast. “Let me feel it, baby. All over my hand. Now.” He switched to her other breast, snagging the nipple between his teeth.
“Yesss,” she yelled as the pleasure crested and all her muscles began a rhythmic clenching, including those of her pussy. It spasmed around his finger, trying to milk it as though it was his cock. She needed it to be his cock very soon.
Before she’d calmed, Hook was spinning her around and growling in her ear. “I need to fuck you. Right now.”
“Please.” She wanted to feel him filling her up. Wanted it more than she could recall ever wanting anything in her life. And she wanted him for so much
more than these few stolen minutes. But she’d worked so hard to stand on her own. Hook would take over, guaranteed. He’d jump in, solve her problems, ease her path through life. A life she’d struggled to gain control of.
“You still with me, baby?”
She shook off the deep thoughts and came back to the moment. “Definitely with you,” she said as her brain clued into the fact she was now bent over the bike with her dress bunched around her middle. Her breasts hung free, nipples brushing the cool leather of the motorcycle seat and her ass was on full display.
Hook slid his hands over the globes of her rear and gave a solid squeeze. It didn’t matter where or how he touched her, every second of it was perfect. He hooked his talented fingers into the side of her bikini panties and drew them over her hips.
As he slid the material down her legs, he crouched behind her. “Step out.” His face was level with her behind and his breath tickled the seam between her cheeks. Marcie lifted one leg and allowed him to work the panties over her foot. He stroked from the swell of her calf up to her inner thigh, coated with her juices and growing wetter by the second. “All for me, Marce. All for me.”
“Yes,” she said, lifting the other foot.
As she spoke, she looked over her shoulder and watched him dig a condom out of his back pocket. Then he lost his jeans and boxers, and rolled the latex down his impressive length.
Next time she’d be getting him in her mouth. It watered for a taste of all that alpha male strength. Her pussy clenched in anticipation as he positioned himself at her opening. “What are you waiting for?” The question was a desperate plea.
“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look right now? Bare to me, draped over my bike, waiting for my cock.”
