Burning to Ride

by Michele De Winton

  “I imagine it was beautiful. In its day.”

  Briony checked that Slick wasn’t poking fun but his face was serious. “It was.” She looked up at the red expressionist painting behind the reception desk and wondered, as she always did, what her mom would have made of her as a grown woman. “My mom was a painter, did all the designs and detail herself, but she died, so, there you go.” She took a breath to steady herself. “But it was. Beautiful. And it will be again.”

  He was silent. A silent lost stranger after a room for a night. What the heck? Briony let her planned renovation of the hotel swim in front of her as she’d envisaged it so many times already. “We’re going to redo that wall in red. There’s a guy Rocco knows who does custom wallpaper. We’re going to use the Hell’s logo, the red flames but stylized. And upstairs we’ve got different designs for all the rooms. It’ll be like booking your own holiday suite. There’s no point trying to hide that we’re a biker hotel; we have to celebrate it, like we used to. But the boys’ll have to stay out of upstairs and the new bistro. They can visit the bar, and the tourists can get their titillation from having a beer with the Raising Hellfire Boys, but that’s where it ends.” Although it wasn’t going to get started if she couldn’t hold on to the place let alone raise more money to restore it.

  “Impressive.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I mean it. I wouldn’t have picked pimping out the biker in biker hotel as a business proposition, but you’re right. People do like a taste of danger. It’s sexy.”

  Briony turned to the dark stranger and let his viper eyes strip her bare. She shuddered at the raw lust in his gaze. “Sexy?”

  He nodded. “A bit like two strangers meeting in the night.” He took a step closer. “And sharing a drink.” Another step. The two of them locked eyes. “Were you going to show me the rest of the place?”

  “I was.” The love potion and bourbon thickened her voice, making it sultry, a match for his gravelly tone. She cleared her throat. “There are fifteen rooms upstairs and another ten in the other wing. The bar you’ve seen, there’s a restaurant and kitchen in the other wing, too. In the summer the pool gets a lot of use.” Slick stripped down to his briefs. Cool water pearling down his naked chest. Must. Get. Naked. Now.

  Briony shook her head a little to clear it. She needed to take charge. Her life was falling apart around her in every direction, but this she could control. As long as she didn’t let the man in front of her take over. An idea looped through her mind with gray silk fingers. She reached up and slowly, deliberately, undid his gray silk tie. “You’re not on duty, whatever it is that you do? Although now that we’ve established you’re not about to report this place to the planning department or the bank it doesn’t really matter what you do in the day. Night’s here and it’s dark and wet out.” She put a finger to his lips. “You want to see where the night takes us?”

  His eyes flashed green. “No one from out there is going to mind?” He jerked his thumb at the door to the bar they’d just come through.

  She arched an eyebrow at him.

  “If that’s a no, then I’m all yours.” A smirk appeared on Slick’s face as his eyes flashed viper green.

  “That’s all I need to know. Better clear your diary, you’re going to be tied up for a while.” Briony handed him the bottle and watched his throat as he took a slug of the liquor, wishing he’d spill a little so she could her lick it off. Patience, lady. Dragging her eyes away from him, she started toward her lockup where privacy was guaranteed and she could forget all about the worries of the hotel.

  Skin buzzing, nerves clanging like brass bells, Briony threw his tie over her shoulder as casually as she could, but adrenaline pumped through her at the thought of taking control of him. She glanced behind her at his clenched fists and her goose bumps deepened.

  Chapter Two

  When he’d read up on Wilde’s Hotel, Cole Knight had not found anything about the bartender looking like a cross between Olivia Munn and Natalie Portman. But with amazing hair. Lots and lots of dark, lustrous hair that he wanted to run his fingers through. There certainly wasn’t a website, or even a Facebook page, just a couple of news items from when things had gone deep-dark bad with the resident biker club. But there’d been no mention about how glorious the staff promised to be in bed. He watched her run his tie through her fingers and loop it around her wrists before walking away. Full-throttle glorious.

  He looked up at the ceiling where years of fly spots, spiderwebs full of dust, and the ravages of time had turned what might have been a pretty, white, corniced ceiling into a mess. Looking around he couldn’t work out why the owner was holding out against the development that was going to make this part of L.A. amazing. Wilde’s Hotel was practically crumbling at the seams.

  Instead of this architectural relic he was going to open this whole area wide up. Plant trees and gardens among the apartments, build a place where people felt safe to visit their neighbors, not cower every time some over-engineered collection of chrome roared past with a man in leather on the back. Still, in his experience at Knight Industries, it was only a matter of time or money before Ms. Wilde handed over the keys like everyone else on the block.

  Straightening as the woman in front of him led him to a door, he pushed thoughts of work aside. He would deal with the owner later. This was why he’d come to L.A. This right here. Escape. Forgetting. Moving on.

  “This is my lockup. To a city boy like you it probably looks like a garage. Except that it has my baby in it. ” She pushed open the door.

  “Wow.” Her bike was something else. All chrome and red metal, it was polished to a brilliant sheen. “Are you going to take me for a ride?”

  She put a finger to her mouth. “Yep. Only not on my bike.”

  Very. Nice. Cole was not the type to turn down a lady. Certainly not one who was sure of what she wanted and very intent on getting it. He’d been about to question whether she really wanted to indulge in an evening with someone who was trying to put her out of a job, but she’d put her finger to his mouth, and with a good portion of a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his veins words became irrelevant.

  He pushed the door shut behind him, threw his jacket down on a chair, and undid the top button of his shirt.

  “It was a dark and stormy night and a tall, dark stranger walked into a bar . . . I wouldn’t believe it unless you were standing right there.” She flicked off the main light and was suddenly haloed by the small golden desk lamp behind her.

  Her voice practically purred. When she’d first spoken to him he thought she’d as likely deck him as seduce him, but now her voice was rich, like molten chocolate. A deep, dark warmth fanned out from his stomach and pooled in his groin. “I didn’t ask for the storm, or the breakdown, or the company. But I can’t say I’m disappointed in any of it now. I’d break down again in a heartbeat if you were the rescue crew.”

  She laughed. “Fantasies of me riding up on a Harley to save you?”

  Too perfect. He pulled her to him and lowered his voice to a growl. “How about you fix my motor right now.”

  She laughed and it put lines of caramel through her chocolate eyes. “So much cheese, so little time.”

  “I’ve got all night.”

  Her laughter faded and she looped his tie around one of his wrists. “Don’t know if you’ll last all night, but I’ll give you points for trying.” She took his other wrist from around her waist and before he could protest, had tied his hands together with his vintage silk tie. Full-throttle glorious was an understatement. This was what he needed. No strings. No commitments. No exes running off with other men. Even the thought of that betrayal chilled his skin and the woman in front of him noticed.

  “Don’t like it when you’re not in control?”

  Snap out of it. This is L.A., not New York. You have the board behind you on this one, and no one is cheating on anyone this time. “You get to be in charge. For a minute or so. My turn next.”

  “Next ti
me?”

  “I did say I had all night.” His hands bound, he still managed to cup her chin, and tilting her face to his, he pulled her into a light kiss. Hot. Chocolate. Her lips were soft, not marshmallow, but pliant, sweet and plump. Their connection surged through him as if she were plugged into the wall socket and when he pulled back he half-expected to see steam curl from her mouth.

  “Not bad, Slick.”

  Cole’s lip twitched. “Guess I’m a lot more city than you’re used to.”

  “Guess so. Although I imagine I’m a lot more bike leather than you’re used to.”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “We’ll see.” She started undoing the buttons on his shirt, not taking her eyes from his as she did so. He went to undo the tie that bound his wrists, but she put her hand over the knot. “Now, now. Patience, Slick.”

  Tie me up and throw me to the tigers. The heat from the kiss moved south and his erection started to push against the seam of his pants.

  She finished with his shirt, and pulled it back over his shoulders, exposing his chest, before pushing him onto a large couch, hands still tied in front of him. “Your shirt might get a little creased, but I’m sure you’ll live.” She undid his belt, and in one swift movement pulled it clean out of the loops on his pants. Strap of leather in hand and a wicked smirk on her face, she looked every inch the classic femme fatale.

  “I don’t get to undress you?”

  Rather than answer, she undid the clasp on her leather vest, dropped it to the floor, and pulled her white fitted tee over her head.

  Can’t ask for more than that. Black lace. Black jeans. Soft lengths of black wavy hair. Cole’s muscles tensed as his body and mind struggled between staying still and pulling her on top of him. “Should I ask what you’re planning to do with me or do I have to wait and see?”

  “You’ll have to be patient. I imagine that’s hard for you.” She curled a length of hair around one finger and he was consumed by the need to feel that hair on his bare chest. She wasn’t done. “I was thinking I’d hold your arms over your head.” She toyed with the button on her jeans before opening the fly to reveal a peep of yet more black lace. “Strip you naked.” She pulled her jeans down and off. “And ride you off into the sunset.”

  Sunset, sunrise, broom closet, as long as you ride me, I’m there. A low growl escaped his lips. She wanted to be in charge for a minute. Fine. Good. A minute wasn’t much to ask for. A little titillation was fun. She bent forward over him. More than fun. This was so different from his usual encounters; he wanted to enjoy letting it play out. All the way. He tried to relax and let his eyes drink in the backlit woman in front of him. Despite her five-foot-nothing height, she didn’t seem short when he wasn’t standing next to her. Well-muscled legs led to a perfectly proportioned waist where a fine lacy pair of panties sat comfortably just under her belly button. There was some meat to her, a butt to hold onto, and breasts, man, two glorious pale breasts that promised to overflow even his ample-sized hands.

  “Don’t think you really need these.” She knelt down and undid his shoes. He had to strain to see her at his feet, but the view . . . Her arms pushing her full breasts together, the hint of pink nipples straining through black lace, man, she might be a red-leather biker, but she was not the tomboy he’d first pinned her for. Thank you, god of car breakdowns. “I did not think my evening would turn out like this.”

  She stopped. “Are you complaining?”

  “No. Hell no.” He struggled to sit up and convince her he wanted to be nowhere but here, but she pushed him back down before pulling off his socks and yanking down his suit pants.

  “Because if you were, I could organize something different for your evening.”

  “No. Please.”

  She paused. “Are you begging me to stay?”

  “Do I need to?”

  “I don’t know. Try it out and see how I like it.”

  “Please?”

  “That all you got? Pretend I’m a big-shot city girl and I’ve got a nice fat bonus in my pocket for you.” She stood and scanned his almost naked form. “Although it looks like it’s you who has a nice bonus in your pocket for me.”

  As she gazed at his erection, Cole felt it pulse, ready, hungry for the woman tantalizingly out of reach. He lowered his voice. “Pretty please with a nice big orgasm on top.”

  She laughed, wickedly, and started to crawl up his body before pushing his hands over his head like she’d promised.

  If they could have, his muscles would have tensed harder with the contact with her skin. The soft insides of her thighs whispered past his chest and every tendon wanted to grip her, devour her, relish her. He pulled at the tie binding him. No way was it going to last much longer.

  She saw him. “Stop fighting it. Play the game, Slick.”

  He stilled himself a moment. “Don’t stop then.”

  “I haven’t even started yet.”

  She straddled him and ran a finger down her neck to the top of her bra. Slipping first one strap, then the other from her shoulders she let her glorious breasts spill out before unclipping the bra altogether. Bending forward, she let her nipples make contact with his and his whole body arched to get closer to hers. Hot. Skin. Hard . . . everything. He wanted, oh he wanted her bad.

  “Enough.” Yanking the tie apart he pulled her on top of him and sought her mouth with his. This time the kiss was anything but light. His tongue dove in and out of her warm, sweet mouth and just as hungrily, her tongue danced with his, her mouth opening wider to grant him fuller access. He flicked his eyes open and saw she had opened her eyes too. Flipping her onto her back he let his hands have full access to her body. Soft. Warm. Delicious. Taking mouthfuls of her neck, shoulder, breast, she filled his senses. Her taste, her scent, her skin.

  “I knew you wouldn’t last long. Men like you don’t like to relinquish control.”

  “I’m going to last longer than you.” He moved down her body and sighed hot breath through her skimpy black lace panties.

  “Oh, I, that’s good,” she whimpered.

  “Maybe I should tie you up. Don’t want you getting away now that I’ve got your attention.” Her took both her wrists in his right hand and pushed them over her head.

  “There’s no issue with me running away now. Not till you follow through on what you just promised.”

  Nice. Letting go of her hands, he tugged her panties off with one movement and spread her thighs. Oh yes, very nice. Kissing his way in from her thigh, Cole let his tongue taste a morsel of her inner core. Delicious. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he plunged his tongue deep into her sex. Her moan was deep and desperate enough for him to know he’d hit the right spot. Circling and lapping in and out, he drank her up, relishing her musky, sweet scent as her muscles started tightening around him.

  The way she writhed on the couch was incredible. Sexy, uninhibited—a marked change from his last partner.

  She gasped as he slipped one finger then another inside her and matched its rhythm with his tongue. Leaving his fingers right where they were he moved back up her body, wanting to have a mouthful of her breast before her took her over the edge.

  “Don’t stop.”

  “I wasn’t planning on stopping.” Circling his finger over her clit he felt her straining, her hips bucking beneath him and he released her breast, wanting to have his mouth on her when she climaxed. In a matter of seconds her thighs tightened and she threw her head back with a healthy groan of pleasure.

  Breathing hard, she reached down and tore the wrapper of a condom she must have grabbed earlier. “No rest for the wicked, Slick.” She pushed him off and onto his back.

  The first contact with his rock-hard erection sent a shudder through him. But with quick, easy strokes, she sheathed him before he could utter a word.

  “Now then, Slick. Are you all talk, or . . .” As she straddled him and slid herself down onto his cock, her words were swallowed by an achingly sexy sigh.

&nb
sp; He groaned and had to shut his eyes a moment to let the sensation ripple through his whole body. Catching his breath he bit his lip, grabbing two handfuls of her glorious butt to slow her down a moment.

  “Your car broke down, but you’re my ride, Slick. Accept it. Go with it. Enjoy it.”

  Easy enough. Eyes open again he drank in the overwhelming montage of sensations. He watched her body writhe up and down on him, saw the soft bare skin of her underarms exposed as she lifted them over her head and ran her fingers through her hair. He smelled their sex meet and mingle, blending with the sweet scent of bourbon and her deeper musky perfume. He heard the little whimpers that escaped her lips as she rode him, heard his own breath catch as she sped up and drove him deeper inside. And he felt the luscious depths of her center, muscles gripping and releasing him; his cock urged on to greater penetration.

  As if she sensed his need, she fell forward onto him and her hot skin over his only intensified his quickening drive. His hands still gripping her butt, he propelled her up and down his length. Bending his knees and digging his heels in, Cole thrust up into her deeper and deeper as she ground herself against him.

  “Oh, my, yes, right there.” Her voice was still deep, but the urgency of her need raked at the end of her sentence, cutting off her breath.

  Too soon he felt his climax coming. “Slow down. You’re going to drive me over the edge.”

  “No slowing down, Slick,” she gasped. “Make me cum. Now.” She leaned in and kissed him, hot, deep, full of the passion and claws of a tiger taking her prey.

  He pulled back from the kiss and bent his head to take her full breast into his mouth. Tracing the outline of her nipple with his tongue, Cole couldn’t help biting it gently. She gasped and Cole’s stomach contracted as she clenched around him and demanded, again, “Now!”