I'd Rather Not (KPD Motorcycle Patrol Book 3)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  It would be my luck that it’d up and die in there, but right now, with Pace’s face practically resting against my crotch? I couldn’t find it in me to care.

  I moaned, and Pace took it as I was worried about the snake.

  What he didn’t know was that I didn’t give one good goddamn about the snake—at least right now. All I cared about was my libido, and how it was so sad.

  Yes, my vagina was sad.

  It wanted Pace. Badly.

  God, I’d nearly worn out three sets of batteries in my vibrator these last eight weeks. I could really, really go for him bringing me to an orgasm instead of his imaginary self.

  His face turned and his lips once again skimmed my thigh, and I arched up slightly, unable to stop myself.

  He caught the movement for what it was and frowned, slowly pulling himself away from me.

  I would’ve cried if I didn’t want him to know that I was dying inside. Slowly and surely.

  Instead, I pasted on a false smile and said, “If that snake dies in my dash, you’re buying me a new Jeep.”

  Pace’s eyes were serious as he said, “You can drive my truck until the smell’s gone.”

  I rolled my eyes and gestured for the house.

  “My ‘I have to pee’ level is at a DEFCON one now. You better go,” I urged.

  Pace put the Jeep into first gear and started back down his driveway, arriving at his house moments later. I hopped out easily and without hinderance, since Pace had helped me take the tops and doors off—something I’d not done in a year.

  It was honestly liberating.

  I loved the feel of the open wind on my face.

  My father had spoiled me to death when I was younger. He’d never once hesitated to take me for rides on his motorcycle, and he’d given me the love of the open air.

  But, since I wasn’t really willing to drive a motorcycle myself, I’d gotten the next best thing—a Jeep.

  I loved my Jeep.

  I loved it even more when the man I loved drove it for me, letting me sit back and relax and enjoy the ride.

  Rushing up to the front door, I quickly inputted the alarm code that would disarm and unlock Pace’s house and hurried inside.

  I’d gotten his alarm code about two weeks ago when I’d needed to come over and borrow a cup of sugar. I’d come over an hour later while he was still on shift and left a plate of homemade chicken and dumplings soup in his fridge, as well as a half a pan of brownies.

  He’d thanked me the next day by taking me out for lunch during his break at work.

  We hadn’t gone a single day since that night without seeing each other.

  And I loved it.

  I loved it a whole lot.

  The quiet whir of the air conditioner was the only thing to greet me as I hurried into Pace’s quiet house.

  I rushed to the bathroom and did my business, coming out seconds later to see Pace walking in the door, adjusting his penis in his pants.

  Things inside of me started to tense in anticipation.

  “You want to watch a movie?” he asked. “I’m beat. I didn’t realize these shifts at work were going to be as tiring as they are. I swear, I’m always on guard when I’m riding those motorcycles. People are dumbasses and barely even see me half the time.”

  I nodded to the couch. “Sure thing. As long as we don’t forget about Jagger. I haven’t been home all day and I really should go let him out. He has an iron bladder, but accidents do happen.”

  He gestured to the bags in his hand that he’d carried in. “How about you get started on the cinnamon rolls that we bought, and I’ll go let him out. Bring him over?”

  I grinned and gave him a thumbs up. “Sounds perfect.”

  While he was gone and the cinnamon rolls were filling the house with their delicious aroma, I started to snoop.

  I wasn’t normally nosey, but I also wasn’t normally as horny as I was, either.

  I moaned and leaned over the counter, pressing my thighs together to try to ease the ache that was centered between my legs.

  I dropped my hand and pressed it hard to my crotch, willing the feeling of want and need to go away.

  But it only made it worse.

  It also happened to be right when Pace pulled up in my Jeep.

  Not that I knew he was there.

  I moaned again, hating the way even the slightest touch from my end now caused me to nearly come.

  God, I was so pitiful.

  So…

  The door opened and I snatched my hand away, hoping beyond hope that he hadn’t seen.

  But one look in his eyes and I knew he had.

  There was no way that he couldn’t.

  Not with the way he parked around the backside of the house, and definitely not with the way it was dark outside now and every light in the house was on, illuminating what was going on inside.

  “Uhhh,” I hesitated, unsure what to say.

  But there was nothing to say.

  And Pace didn’t ask for words.

  Instead, he stalked to me, bent down, and hauled me up against him.

  “Fuck it,” he said. “I just can’t do it anymore. I just…can’t.”

  Then he kissed me.

  This was no mild kiss.

  This was a soul-destroying kiss that nearly brought me to my knees.

  His tongue was hot as it swept into my mouth, and God, his hands.

  His hands were on my ass, pulling me in tight to him.

  His long, strong fingers were curling around my ass cheeks and finding their way inside of my shorts as he moved his hands in and up to cup my ass.

  “I want you so bad I can’t breathe,” he told me. “Sometimes, I lie awake at night and think only of you. My dick is hard, but even my hand doesn’t satisfy it anymore.”

  I moaned low in my throat and started to run my hands up Pace’s well-defined chest.

  I felt each dip and indentation of his muscles.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  I wanted his skin on mine.

  “Pace,” I whispered. “Please.”

  He didn’t need to be asked.

  He knew exactly what I wanted.

  Pushing away from me slightly, he whipped his shirt over his head by taking a hold of the collar and hunching his shoulders in. The t-shirt came off in seconds, followed shortly by mine.

  That was when he saw that I wasn’t wearing a bra.

  “I knew it,” he groaned. “With every shift of your Jeep, I watched your tits bounce.”

  I grinned wickedly. “I like driving you wild. I was hoping if I could just push you over the edge, you’d take the bait.”

  “Well, seeing you masturbate in my kitchen was the trigger, darlin’,” he told me.

  I didn’t correct him.

  I was too busy trying to force myself not to come.

  His hands were on my breasts, and he was pinching my nipples as he slowly brought one of them up to his waiting lips.

  When his hot tongue curled around the hard peak, I swear to Christ I nearly came.

  He pulled back, realizing that I liked it, then watched my face as he went back for more.

  This time, he didn’t stop.

  This time, he sucked and sucked and sucked until I cried out in surprise.

  That was when my orgasm rolled over me.

  I came quick and hard, and I knew without a doubt that he knew what he did to me.

  His eyes were wide with need as he pulled away, my nipple leaving his mouth with a loud suck, and started to lower the zipper of his jeans.

  My heartbeat, which was already hammering, turned erratic as it tried to compensate for all the emotions that were roiling through my body right now.

  God, how I wanted the man.

  His shirt was gone, and his pants were now being unzipped.

  I swallowed hard when I got my first good look at the triangle of skin that was exposed when the gap of his pan
ts fell open.

  Well, as open as it could seeing as his pants were pretty tight.

  There was no way for them not to be, though.

  The man had an ass and thighs for days.

  The kind of ass that a woman would kill for. One that he could bounce a quarter off of or balance a damn beer bottle and recreate the iconic Kim Kardashian photo.

  So there was no sagging of the jeans when they were unbuttoned.

  He’d have to peel them off.

  Which I both loved and hated.

  But, for the time being, I was enjoying looking at the root of his cock that was exposed, framed by his pants.

  I also enjoyed looking at the rest of his cock that was hanging down the right side of his jeans.

  “Did you know the majority of American men tuck left?” I said, spouting off knowledge that I’d learned while reading one of my favorite romance authors. “So much so in fact that they built what they call a ‘rise’ in jeans on the left side to allow for those American men who tuck left. I think right tuckers are just screwed.”

  After my verbal spewage, I looked up to find Pace’s amused eyes on me.

  “I guess I need to start tucking left.” He paused. “It just goes where it goes. Some jeans it’s more comfortable to go left than right, and sometimes it’s more comfortable to do the opposite.”

  I licked my lips as he walked towards me, deliberately slow, as if he was prowling and not walking.

  Stalking, maybe.

  “You can tuck whichever way you want,” I replied breathlessly as he lifted me and carried me to the bedroom. “I’ll help you in the future, though…if you want.”

  He laughed as one knee went onto the bed.

  “Are you going to take your pants off?” I wondered.

  He shook his head.

  “Maybe later.”

  I didn’t call him on that.

  I knew that he might be self-conscious. Or hell, he might just feel like it’d take him too long.

  Whatever the reason, I wasn’t going to argue.

  “Yours, however, have to come off,” he admitted, sounding excited. “I’ve been wanting to do this for forever.”

  I started to hook my fingers into my jeans, preparing to slip them off without unbuttoning them since I was still at the point where they were fitting loosely, but he stilled me with a hand on my belly.

  “No, let me,” he whispered. “I’m not kidding. I really have been looking forward to this.”

  “Looking forward to what?” I licked my dry lips.

  “To peeling those jeans off your body,” he said. “I love how they are tight on your thighs and your ass, but loose around your waist. I’ve thought about suggesting you wear a belt seeing as you’re always pulling them up, but when you pull them up you pull your shirt up first, and sometimes it gives me this flash of skin around your belly or your lower back. And then I start thinking about what that skin would look like decorated…” He trailed off, making me yearn to hear what he was going to say.

  “After you decorated it with what?” I asked breathlessly.

  I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say.

  But I wanted him to say it anyway.

  “After I pulled out of your hot pussy and covered your back with my come,” he answered, not sounding embarrassed in the slightest.

  I let my hands drop to the bed, then wiggled my hips for him to continue.

  “Do with me what you will,” I urged.

  He didn’t have to be asked twice.

  Seconds later he was unbuttoning the top of my jeans. Moments after that, the zipper was being slid down.

  My breath caught when he bent over and pressed a kiss to my lower belly.

  An open-mouthed one that lingered.

  He blew on the spot where his mouth had once been, and I shivered at the cool sensation.

  “You know,” he said teasingly. “I’m fairly sure that this will be the one and only time that this happens. If Ford doesn’t kick my ass, your father will. Because there’s no way, after today, that I’m going to be able to keep my hands off of you.”

  God, I hoped not.

  Both that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of me, and that my family didn’t murder him.

  “They’ll be okay,” I promised. “But, let’s make this extra good just in case.”

  He chuckled against my belly, then went back up onto his knees as he pulled my bottoms from my body, leaving me in my underwear and nothing else.

  My underwear was not sexy. Just a simple pair of black bikinis. But with the look on Pace’s face, one would think that I was dressed in the most provocative of pairs.

  “Fuck,” he said simply.

  My thighs rubbed together as I tried to ease the ache that was centered there.

  The same ache that had only gotten stronger since the man had caught me trying to ease it earlier.

  “Easy,” he said as he stilled my thighs. “I’m about to help you.”

  I spread them open and said, “Well for the love of all that’s holy, get to it already.”

  He laughed, then bent slightly at the waist and eased his hands up the insides of my thighs, coming to a rest right at the seam where my legs met my hips.

  “I want nothing more than to go to town on that pussy,” he said, eyes on my lower body. “I want to sink my cock inside of you and fuck you until I’m coming. Then pull out and watch as it spurts all over you.”

  I sucked in a breath at his words, wishing that I had something to clench on to.

  His finger. His tongue. His cock. I wasn’t sure I was picky at the moment, as long as it came from him.

  “Then why aren’t you?” I asked.

  He reached for his back pocket and extracted his wallet.

  Seconds after that, he was pulling a condom out of the brown leather and tossing the rest of it onto the floor.

  With the foil in between two of his fingers, he slowly started to push his jeans down his hips.

  I watched, mesmerized, as his cock slowly became exposed. Inch by slow, delicious inch.

  When he got his waistband to where his pants were covering his cock head alone, he pushed it the final inch and his cock bobbed free.

  I moaned.

  Seriously, I moaned.

  I couldn’t help myself.

  He fisted his cock and gave it a few hard, fast strokes.

  That was when I realized he had a big, massive cock. A massive cock that had a barbell through the skin just on the underside of his cock.

  “Frenum piercing,” he said. “I got it when I was sixteen and dumb. Now I have it because it looks weird to have a hole in my skin.”

  I giggled and clenched my hands into fists so I wouldn’t reach out and touch it. I hadn’t seen the piercing when I’d seen his penis the first time. He must’ve had it out when he had to “remove all metal” for the surgery.

  “Go ahead,” he said, continuing to stroke it.

  I sat up, legs still spread wide, and hesitantly reached for his cock.

  He dropped his hand from around it, and the thick length of him drooped, unable to stand as straight with the weight and the girth that he was packing.

  When my hand hesitantly slipped around him, I was stunned to see that I couldn’t even make my fingers touch.

  “You’re really big,” I breathed.

  He laughed.

  “When I got the piercing, it was because one of my best buddy’s sisters worked at the tattoo salon. I thought she was hot, but she was like six years older than me. I wanted to impress her with the size of my cock. So, I went and got the piercing, thinking it might turn her on,” he admitted.

  “Did it work?” I asked curiously.

  The fact that he was sixteen still made me want to widen my eyes at him.

  But I could see Pace being a virulent, hormonal teenage boy. No joke, it wouldn’t surprise me all if it did.

  “Yeah,” he said.
“I lied and told her I was eighteen. She hadn’t asked for ID or anything. We fucked there in the little room. Then she pierced my cock for free.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Win-win for you.”

  My finger trailed down the underside of his cock, starting at the barbell and stopping at the base of his cock where his skin started to loosen and cover his testicles.

  His cock jumped.

  “God,” he said. “Having your hands on me is everything that I imagined it would be.”

  I bit my lip and ran my finger around the piercing.

  “Why this one?” I asked.

  “The frenum?” he paused.

  “Yeah,” I wanted to lick it.

  “Because it’s supposed to help with sensitivity,” he admitted. “And it took the least amount of time to heal. I wanted a piercing, but I also didn’t want to be out of commission for months on end if I could help it. Though the appa piercing looked cool, I just wasn’t really wanting my cock head to be pierced.”

  I squeezed his cock and loved how he groaned. “I don’t blame you.”

  “Please, lick me,” he urged.

  That was all the invitation I needed.

  Swirling my tongue around the head of his cock, I caught up a few stray drops of his pre-come, loving the taste of him on my lips.

  “Fuck.” He panted. “Fuck me running.”

  I touched the tip of my tongue to his piercing and ran it from ball to ball, swirling it around and around.

  “Goddamn.” He pulled away suddenly. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to come on your pretty face.”

  Why the thought of that was so exciting, I didn’t know.

  But it was.

  Greatly.

  “I can see that the idea of that isn’t at all off-putting,” he paused. “But I really want to be inside of you. I’ve thought of nothing but sinking inside of you for weeks now. I really, really want to do it.”

  I let myself fall backward, loving as he watched my breasts bounce.

  His fingers skated up my thighs and came to a rest at the scar on my belly.

  “I’ve never been happier of anything that I’ve done in my life,” he said as he fingered the still healing scar.

  I agreed.

  I was happy that he’d done it. Happy and sad, really.

  Happy that I was alive to experience this with him, but sad because he had to put himself in danger for me to have a life.