She sighed and closed her eyes as he moved his thumb lightly over her clit. “Oh, that’s good.”
“It’s going to get a lot better.” She was too tight to slide his index finger in unless she opened her thighs. He wanted her to open them. Every fucking cell in his horny, male body wanted her to.
“You asked me about my ex.”
“I did?” He couldn’t remember asking. All he wanted was to fuck her.
“He was a liar, telling me how much he loved me. Insisted I give him head all the time.”
That got Troy’s attention. “Did you like doing that?”
“Not much. He took my virginity, then went back to his girlfriend. Guess I wasn’t very good at it.”
She could be trained to be damn fuckable. “Want me to kill him for you?”
She opened her eyes, took one look at his serious intent, and laughed. “Of course not. Tell me one thing about you.”
He shrugged. “My work takes me away.” What could he tell her? He was an army-trained killer. His first three years in the army had been basic enlistment, followed by studying mechanical engineering, and then special operations, which had turned him into a killing machine.
A dirty assassin. And damn good at his job. Yeah, that would go down well.
Nope. Not going there. Not while sunshine lay in front of him and he could bathe in it.
She slipped away from his hand and stood, the water streaming off her. Damn, she was hot, bursting with an alluring combination of sassiness and innocence, her face and body not worn down by life like the women who hung out with the brothers.
She held herself well, now that she wasn’t terrified. At least talking to her had put her at ease.
“Am I clean enough for you now?”
He smiled. “Clean enough to corrupt.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He chuckled. “Turn around.”
She did as he asked. She had nice rounded butt cheeks, the kind a man could grab hold of with both hands while thrusting into her. He hosed the last remaining soap suds off her, turned off the taps, and grabbed a towel off the rail. “Hold your hair off your back.”
He started to dry her, rubbing her down, not missing any drops.
“I can dry myself,” she said, looking back at him.
“I’m doing this my way.” He dried under her hair, down the groove of her back, turning her with one hand so he could start on her front.
“What would you normally be doing right now?”
He breathed in deep, savoring her fragrance. “Working in the club’s bike mechanic shop.”
“That’s not a vacation.”
“Who said I’m on vacation? Open your legs.”
“You say that a lot to me.”
He grinned. She was right.
“Oh my God, the scary man smiled.”
She squealed as he rubbed between her thighs, sliding his thumb along her inner lips. She was wet. That couldn’t be faked. “How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-one. How old are you?”
“Six years older than you.”
She was a young twenty-one. And he? Well, he’d already been old at seventeen when he signed on with the army. In ten years of service, he’d seen more death than any man had a right to. Which was why he was currently considering other options. His stint was over soon. He didn’t have to re-up…though the financial incentive to do so was high.
Until now, the army had been his whole way of life. But he wanted…more. More what? Hell, he didn’t know. But he damned sure wasn’t going back to killing, that much he knew. Guarding Stacey was giving him a breather while he worked it out.
A far more pleasant interlude, now she’d settled down.
She took the towel from him and, to his extreme disappointment, wrapped it around herself. “Why can’t I sleep on the lounge?”
“You’re a flight risk.”
Her fine eyebrows raised. “I can’t sleep in the same bed as you.”
“Who said you had a choice?” He shepherded her from the bathroom and opened his bedroom door.
She padded in, pushed on the queen-sized bed as if testing it for comfort, then pulled back the sheets to inspect them. He knew they were spotless.
Clean. Orderly. Merciless. That was him.
So, why did it bother him, what she wanted?
“Up to your standards, princess?” He pulled off his hoodie, and his black T-shirt came off with it, leaving him in just his jeans, the semi-automatic in its waistband holster, and his boots. He rubbed his chin, feeling his five-o’clock shadow, which was becoming more of a beard.
“You’re carrying?” Her eyes widened as she looked him up and down.
“I’m the club enforcer when I’m home.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she muttered.
Most brothers were tattooed, but he wasn’t. Part of his spec ops brief was to blend in. Tats would automatically out him as a Westerner. Wearing a keffiyeh, he was dark enough to look the part of a native Syrian.
She looked from him to the bed, and he knew trepidation—and indecision—when he saw it. She’d liked what he did for her in the bath. Did she even know what real foreplay was? What it was like to have a man’s tongue thrust inside her?
What it was like to have her clit teased and sucked on?
He had to remind himself why she was here. Yeah, he wanted to fuck her all night, but that wasn’t what this job was about. He undid his holster and locked his semi-automatic away in his bedroom cupboard, unzipped his jeans and let them drop to the floor. Hell, he’d probably break her if he let his lust loose.
“Get into bed,” he ordered, his sexual frustration surfacing. “It’s late, and I need sleep.”
Her gaze dropped to the hard-on tenting his boxers. There was no way of hiding it. “How are you going to sleep with that?”
“How about you relax me?” he suggested.
He strode over, pressed her hard against the wall, and kissed her. She kept her lips closed, and her eyes were wide open.
But there was no denying him. He bit her lip.
She gasped, and he slid his tongue in, taking full advantage. He could sense her body surrendering as he played at mating with her, preparing her up for what was to come. It was clear that she had little experience, and it would be easy to coax her into whatever he wanted. He knew how to kiss.
He knew how to fuck.
What he didn’t know was how to love or trust outside his tight-knit club. And he never would.
Her arms went around the back of his neck, and she made little breathy sounds as she tentatively responded with baby-step kisses.
Her towel dropped to the floor. Her skin was warm and fresh. Pressed hard against his chest, he could feel her tight, pebbled nipples, so he stroked her breast, playing with her sensitive tip.
This girl clearly hadn’t experienced a great fucking, and she should before she settled down with a boring, suitable husband. She’d like what he could do for her. But he needed to be careful. He didn’t want a love-sick fawn mooning over him. She’d be out of his life for good in a couple of days if he got the answers he needed.
He pulled back and cupped her face in his palms. Her cheeks were warm and her eyes bright. “How about you help me unwind by telling me where Animal is hiding out? Then I can get my sister and send you home safe and sound.”
She froze, her eyes narrowing as it dawned on her he’d been stringing her along. “You think you can soften me up with a kiss? I’m not stupid, you manipulative asshole. I told you, I didn’t know. Do you think I want to be stuck here not knowing which is safer—you or that deadly snake?”
He laughed. “That’s easy. The snake.”
“Bastard.” She raked her nails down his face, drawing blood.
He didn’t move back, nor did he try to stop her.
She slapped him, again and again, the blows stinging his cheeks. She kicked out and tried pushing him away. Pressed up hard against the wall, sh
e couldn’t do much harm. He let her wear herself out. Besides, he almost believed her now when she said she didn’t know where Animal was hiding out.
She kicked at his shin and howled in pain.
He met her furious gaze. “What’s the matter? Break your toe? Want me to kiss it better, little girl?”
“I want you to die.”
She went to slap him again, but he caught her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back, but not hard enough to hurt her. He was such a war-weary animal, he relished every strike, every blow from this young, healthy woman.
“I’m trained to withstand torture,” he told her with a smile.
Compared to his real work, it was like playing with a kitten.
Pain made him feel alive, and he could have entertained himself with her all night, but he had other plans. He needed to get her in a more compliant mood.
She was a civilian, so it wasn’t like he could force an answer of out her using violence or threats. Besides, he didn’t like dealing roughly with women…even if some he had come across were deadlier than the men.
God, she was beautiful. He bent down and licked her nipples so they tightened into cherry rosebuds. Idly, he wondered if she could be induced to have nipple orgasms. She grabbed his hair to pull him away with her free hand as he laved her tits.
Eventually, the pressure of her fingers gripping his hair lessened. A soft moan left her lips. Time to release her other hand.
This wasn’t an equal playing field. Stacey was young, innocent, and sweet, stuck in a hideaway with him, in trouble for something she didn’t do.
He owed her pleasure.
He dropped to his knees and parted her folds, breathing in deep, savoring her sweet scent. She smelled of soap and a light woman’s musk. Her gorgeous pussy was such a treat. He licked along the seam of her inner lips so they parted. He circled her clit with his tongue, and she gasped, her hips jerking.
When he looked up, there was surprise in her eyes. “No one’s done this to you before?” he asked in astonishment.
She gave a quick shake of her head. “I never trusted anyone enough.”
He stilled. “But you trust me?”
“You helped us with Dad when he was dying. That meant something. I’ll never forget it.” She put her hands on his shoulders and moved her legs apart. “You’re a bastard, but I trust you not to hurt me. I know under that scary biker persona, you’re a good man. That’s as far as it goes.”
Perfect. He could work with that.
“I won’t hurt you.” He didn’t want any more than physical trust. He wasn’t crossing over that line. Even if he liked her. A lot. And she obviously had a crush on him. A silly, girly crush. She should know better. He’d fuck her and leave.
Even if, yeah, he’d miss her when he let her go.
Chapter Six
Stacey had a man she was afraid of—and who’d laughed in her face when she’d hit him—licking her between her legs. Dangerous, sexy, and insanely hot. She’d known it from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him. There were almost no words to describe the bliss. No one else in her entire life would have dared push her up against a wall and take what he wanted.
The edginess of it drove her excitement to the limit.
Troy was all muscle and sheer, raw dominance, the touch of his tongue against her clit, sure and passionate. He ate her like she was an ice cream melting in the sun and he didn’t want to miss a drop. He licked every part of her he had access to with a feral craving. She rolled her hips forward, wanting everything he could give her, the sensation his tongue created blotting out all rational thought.
He clearly liked having his face mashed up against her pussy. He might be a terrifying biker, the type she’d never associate with in real life, but that hadn’t stopped him getting on his knees to give her pleasure.
Each touch of his tongue speared greater desire through her, making her wetter, more open, more vulnerable. And yet, she couldn’t get enough. She moaned and opened her legs wide, tilting her hips forward for him.
He stuck his tongue inside her, and she gasped, the thrill of it zinging up her spine. Then he closed his lips over her clit and sucked it, licking it over and over until the world shrank to just him and her and what he was doing to make her surrender to his will.
The orgasm, when it hit her, came in a flash of bright lights behind her eyeballs. She groaned deep and loud, sucking in air just before another slammed into her. He slid his fingers deep inside and curled them forward, rubbing them up and down while his tongue worked her clitoris. Another orgasm exploded in the core of her, racing up her spine and lighting fireworks in her mind. Her legs were trembling so badly she wanted to pull away, but his hot tongue kept circling her clit, finding more sensitive nerve endings, until yet another orgasm followed the others. Her fingers clenched in his hair while her whole body tensed and spasmed until finally she was so spent she started to sink to the ground.
He stood and swept her up into his arms, carrying her over to the bed. He could have done anything to her in that moment. Stuck that big cock of his anywhere. She wanted it. Needed it. Craved it.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he placed her on his bed against the wall side, doubtless so she couldn’t get out easily, and cradled her like she was something…precious. She was wrapped in a cocoon of man muscle, her pussy throbbing for his cock.
She could hear him breathing evenly, steadily, as if her crying out and writhing hadn’t even affected him. Hell!
How could he be so damn calm?
So unaffected?
“I want you, Troy.” She rolled toward him so that she could see into his eyes and feel his breath on her face. She’d never been much into sex, but with Troy, it was…different.
She really wanted him.
“Go to sleep, Stacey.” He clicked off the light and pressed up against her again, so she was pinned between him and the wall. He curled his big body alongside hers, his arms holding her tight, the hard length of him pressing into her mons. Hell, she could probably rub herself against him and come again.
How could she sleep when she yearned for him so badly?
His scent surrounded her, and she could smell her musk on his face, too. Somehow, the mingling of their bodies seemed…right. She slid her hand down between them until she could circle her fingers around his cock.
He was big and hard—not that she’d expected anything different from such a well-formed, sexy man. It seemed ironic that such a fierce man could be so tender.
“Don’t you want me?” she whispered.
“Go to sleep. Don’t make me tell you again.” His voice was little more than a growl.
“I can’t sleep. I need you. You’ve made me want you.” She traced her fingers around him, taking his shaft and moving her hand up and down.
“We’re not fucking, Stacey. You were right about me. I am a bastard. You’re not to get attached to me.”
Was he serious right now? “I have no intention of falling in love with you, so don’t flatter yourself.”
He was really telling her no?
She curled her fingers around his balls, weighing them in her hand, getting to know him by feel, then sliding her hand around his cock. He was the most beautifully formed man she’d ever touched.
He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. In the faint light, his face was hard, his jaw clenched as if he were fighting with himself. “You will. Sex is different for a woman. You get…attached.”
“I won’t. I might be naive, but I’m not stupid,” she said.
He hadn’t taken her hand from his cock, so she slid hers up and down his length, savoring the soft, silky feel of his skin juxtaposed against the hard-as-steel core.
He sighed. “The moment I get Lizzie, you’re going home to New York, away from the brothers, well away from me.”
“I told you, I’m not going home. I’m staying in New Orleans, and short of killing me, you can’t stop me. I’ve inherited a business, and I need to
run it.” She circled her finger around the head of his cock, gathering up his pre-cum and licking it off her forefinger. It tasted sweet. Delicious. For the first time in her life, she wanted to do more.
He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe she wouldn’t automatically obey him. “You’ll do what I tell you to do.”
“Or what, Troy?” She raised her chin and laughed. What was it about men that they thought they could tell her how to run her life? It annoyed the crap out of her.
She’d show him.
She bent over and licked the head of his cock. She loved his scent. It hit her in the core, making her clench her pussy muscles with sharp-edged need and a wildness she hadn’t known she possessed.
He reached down and gripped her hair to pull her mouth off him. “I’ll tie you up and dump you back at Commander Jones’s feet.”
“You know my stepfather?” That made her pause.
“I did my research before I snatched you. Wealthy trust-fund mother who made a bad marriage with your businessman father, now slumming it with a military man.”
“She loved my father, but he was impossible to live with,” Stacey said defensively. “At least for Mom. And how dare you say she’s slumming it? I’m proud of our military men and women.”
“So, you’re not such a princess as you seem?”
“I already told you that, and if you bothered to get to know me, you’d understand I love to work hard, and I’m damned stubborn when crossed.”
He kept his harsh grip on her hair. “But I don’t want to get to know you.”
“Well, it’s too damned late, seeing as you’ve already had your face mashed into my pussy.”
He pulled her off his cock.
Maybe he was afraid she’d bite him. The bastard deserved it. Either way, he didn’t want her giving him head. She turned on her side and stroked him up and down instead because she couldn’t stop touching him, even though he annoyed the hell out of her.
He grunted, lay back and relaxed, and her effort was rewarded with a deep, masculine groan.
She gripped his cock harder and began to work it. In the dim light, she saw his lips curve up. He reached down and covered her hand with his, helping her find a rhythm. She was pretty new at this and appreciated the guidance. His eyelids shuttered, and he thrust into her hand, his buttocks stiffening as the pace grew faster. He had well-formed pecs and a washboard abdomen with hard musculature.
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