Illicit acollection, p.271
Illicit: A Contemporary Romance Collection, page 271
No, not let me take.
Give me.
Elle is willing to give me whatever I ask for.
All I have to do is show her. Teach her.
Suddenly, the fifteen-minute bike ride to Brentwood seems like a cross-country trek.
Giving her my helmet, I make sure it’s secure before straddling my bike and motioning for her climb on behind me. She slides onto the seat, the inside of her thighs gripping the outside of mine. The heat of her full, soft breasts pressed against my back. Her soft, shallow breath against the nape of my neck. Reaching back, I find both of her hands and pull them forward, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Hold on. Follow my lead,” I say, giving her hands a brief squeeze before starting the engine. The sudden rumbling vibration of the bike seat between her legs pulls a sharp gasp from her that goes straight to my dick. In an instant I’m so hard I could hammer nails with the head of my cock, the rigid bulge of it mere inches from her hands. Turning my head just enough to see her mouth, I give her a crooked smile. “I’ll go slow. Take it—”
Leaning forward, she rests her chin on my shoulder, bringing her mouth to within a breath of mine. “Don’t.” She settles into her seat even further, pressing herself tighter against me. “I don’t want to go slow.” She whispers it, her inner thighs gripping around my hips. “I don’t want you to take it easy on me.” I have a feeling she’s talking about more than the bike ride we’re about to take.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, shifting the bike into drive before opening the throttle and we take off like a shot.
5
Ellenore
For as long as I can remember, I have no idea what going to happen next. Even when Derek broke up with me, I had a backup plan. A hastily assembled backup plan, but it was still a plan, even if I was weaving myself a safety net while I was falling.
Right now, with Lex, on the back of his bike, flying down dark, unfamiliar city streets, the last thing I’m worried about is tomorrow. The only thing I’m thinking about is now.
Lex slows and I lift my head. Open my eyes. I expect a run-down, apartment over a liquor store. Maybe an outrageously priced studio, coveted for its swimming pool and zip code. That’s not where Lex takes me. Scanning my surroundings, there isn’t an apartment building or liquor store in sight. We’re in a quiet, residential neighborhood. I notice how far apart the houses are. How far they’re set back off the street. Security gates. Guard shacks. Privacy hedges, three times as tall as I am.
Lex turns onto a private drive, rolling to a stop in front of an unoccupied guard shack before planting his feet to keep the bike steady. Standing sentry in front of it is a box with a keypad and small blank screen. Leaning to the side, he presses his thumb to the screen and there’s a faint humming noise while the screen glows green. A few seconds later, the huge iron gate in front of us starts to roll open on its track, letting us in
We follow the cobblestone driveway past the main house, a gorgeous, ivy-covered château that looks like it was plucked from the French countryside and transplanted in LA, before finally rolling to another stop in front of what looks like a converted carriage house. A long wooden staircase runs the climbs the side of the building before ending in a platform outside a curtained French door. It might be my imagination but I’m pretty sure the curtain just twitched away from the door, like someone is checking us out.
As soon as Lex cuts the engine, I let go of him to reach up and unfasten the strap on my borrowed helmet before pulling it off my head. I hand it to him over his shoulder before sliding off the back of the bike.
Standing close by, I wait while Lex disengages the bike’s kickstand and secures the helmet before climbing off to stand beside me.
“You have questions.” He sounds resigned when he says it. Like it’s inevitable. Like answering them is the last thing he wants to do.
He’s right. I do have questions. I have a million of them, and every one of them is encouraging me to be rational. Think this through. Run away. “I have one…” I take a deep breath and give it a voice because right now, it’s the only one that matters. The only question I care about. “Will you kiss me again?” I say it in a rush because the fact that I actually said it is equal parts embarrassing and terrifying. “Because when you’re kissing me, I stop thinking and I’d really like to not—”
Lex steps into me, lifting his hand to wrap it around the back of my neck to pull me close. His mouth presses against mine, his tongue skimming along my lower lip before pushing past my parted lips. This kiss is different than the one at the bar. That kiss was slow, almost methodical. Perfectly designed to get me here. To coax me into saying what he wanted to hear.
Yes.
This kiss is just as slow but there’s a desperate undercurrent that threatens to pull me under with each pass of his tongue against mine. A wild heat that scorches its way down my spine. Settles deep and low in my belly.
Finally pulling his mouth away from mine with a low-throated groan, he gives me a lop-sided smile that seems to be at total odds with what I’m seeing in his eyes. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.” I nod my head and try not to be mortified by my response. Instead of laughing at me, he leans in and gives me another kiss, this one barely more than a soft press of lips against the corner of my mouth.
“You’re so goddamned adorable,” he murmurs, his mouth sliding from my mouth to my cheek. From my cheek to the soft spot right below my earlobe. “It’s almost a shame…”
“Shame?” I tilt my head, offering my neck to the soft brush of his lips. “What’s a shame?”
His gaze finds mine again, the blue of his eyes dark in the moonlight. “I’m going to corrupt you, Ellenore.” The hand wrapped around the back of my neck squeezes gently, the feel of his fingers gripped against my flesh sending a shiver through me. “I’m going to do things to you...” The thumb pressed against the side of my throat sweeps over the pulse that pounds, hard and heavy, under my skin. “So, say the word and we’ll get back on my bike and I’ll take you home.”
I know that I should. I know I’m not ready for what’s about to happen. That Lex is once-in-a-lifetime. A blue-eyed mistake, just waiting to happen
But he’s a mistake I’m dying to make.
“If I didn’t know better…” I shake my head, tilting it ever so slightly to deepen the press of his thumb against my throat. “I’d say you’re trying to scare me away.”
“I don’t want you scared, Ellenore.” His gaze drops mouth, the heat of it searing my lips. “I want you prepared for what’s going to happen the second I get you behind closed doors.”
He looks like a hapless beach bum—an off-the-charts hot, ridiculously sexy beach bum but in his faded jeans and tousled blond hair he looked normal. Almost harmless.
There is nothing hapless or harmless about the way Lex is looking at me now. A look that reminds me that, other than the fact that he rides a motorcycle and smells absolutely fantastic, I know nothing about him. A look that tells me I should be scared. I should be running away.
Instead, I give him a puzzled smile. “I thought all you Christian Grey types were supposed to be billionaire CEOs that drive Maybaches and wear Armani suits.”
That earns me a laugh. “Sorry to disappoint…” the thumb pressed against the side of my neck makes a soft, lazy sweep against my jugular, stirring my blood. Making it hard to breathe. “But trust me, I don’t have to tie you up to make you do what I want, Ellenore.” His laughter trails off and he leans in close, his lips warm against my ear. “Last chance to run away.”
I’m quaking in my low-tops. My knees are the consistency of jello and my heart is beating so fast I’m expecting it to burst like a balloon at any moment.
But, despite the fact that I’m five seconds away from a full-fledged panic-attack, running away is the last thing I want to do.
6
Lex
It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted a woman this much. To be honest, I don’t remember ever feeling this desperate to get inside someone before. Most of the time I fuck women out of either blind boredom or sheer necessity.
And never here.
My brother keeps a suite at the Four Seasons for shit like this. He’s insanely disciplined when it comes to women. Appearances are very important to him. Almost as important as security. When he finds out I brought a strange woman home, he’s probably going to throw my ass out.
Which is fine.
He fired me, which basically means I have no way to pay my way around here and I’d rather live in a dumpster than become a fucking Kato. So, yeah. I’m about twelve hours away from homelessness. Might as well use them wisely.
Shoving the thought aside, I focus on the woman in front of me.
Ellenore.
I basically just told her that I have every intention of dragging her inside and fucking her to death. That if she had the sense God gave a tree stump she’d be running for her life.
She isn’t running.
She’s waiting, and despite everything I just said to her, I don’t want her to run. I think I might chase her if she tried. Switching tracks, I let the hand around her neck slide across her shoulder and down her arm. Finding her hand, I lace my fingers through hers. “Come on.” Giving her a tug, I’m more relieved than I should be when she follows me without protest.
Fingers still intertwined, I lead her through the ivy-covered gate and under a vine-laced arbor. Down a slab stone walkway, along the side of the main house. When we step into the backyard she gives a small gasp that makes me smile.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” I say, letting my gaze wander around the park-like space. Thick green grass. Tall trees and flowering shrubs. Red brick planters housing rose bushes and wisteria. A narrow lap pool lined with resort-style loungers. Pool toys floating on its surface. At the back of the property is a pool house. Red brick like the planters. White shutters. Deep porch with a swing.
“Is it yours?” She tries to look everywhere at once her, craning her neck, this way and that, eyes wide. I want to hear calculation in her voice, so I can believe she’s taking it all and trying to find a way to set her hooks in me. I don’t. All I hear is curiosity. Maybe a little bit of awe.
“Nope.” Pulling her onto the porch of the pool house. “It belongs to my brother.” I look for disappointment but don’t find it.
“Your brother the bar owner?” Her fingers flex around mine while she gives her lips a nervous lick.
I give her another smile and a non-committal shrug. Despite the fact that I brought her here, I’m not in the market to spill family secrets. My gaze dips of its own volition, settling on her mouth while I reach for the doorknob. “How do you want to do this, Ellenore?” I say, forgetting everything I said to her. Every warning I just gave her. “Fast or slow?”
Totally unaware of what she’s doing to me, she licks her lips again before pulling the corner of her mouth between her teeth, her dark brown eyes aimed at right at me when she finally lets go of her lip and says, “Surprise me.”
7
Ellenore
Surprise me?
Seriously?
Surprise me?
I hate surprises.
Honestly hate them.
I’m a planner. I need structure. To know with unwavering certainty what’s going to happen next.
I have never, in my entire life, encouraged someone to surprise me.
Who the hell am I with this guy?
What the hell has he done to me?
Instead of asking out loud, I keep wondering while he opens the door and pulls me inside. As soon as it’s snapped shut, he has me pushed up against it, his mouth inches from mine, his fingers pushing past the place where the hem of my T-shirt meets the waistband of my jeans. The feel of his fingertips grazing my skin sets off an involuntary shudder, the force of it pushes an embarrassing yelp up my throat and past my lips.
“Do I need to kiss you again?” He’s teasing me, trying to get me to relax but it’s not working. Instead it sweeps a wildfire of mortification across my face.
And just like that, I’m back to being me.
“I’m sorry…” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. Jesus. He probably thinks I’m some sad, lonely virgin and that I made up my ex-boyfriend to seem less pathetic. Sadly enough, Derek is real and despite the fact that I’ve had sex an adequate amount of times, I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I mean, shit—I don’t even know what do to with my hands. Where to put them. If I’m supposed to touch him. “I told you, I’m not good at—”
I let out another sound when I feel his mouth brush against mine—this one less holy shit and more yes, please—the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth without trying to push its way inside. Letting me decide if I want to let him in. When my mouth finally parts with a sigh, he kisses me XXX
“Look at me.”
Something about his tone pulls my eyes open. He’s looking at me, his impossibly blue gaze hooked into mine. He moves slowly, one of his hands skimming along my waist. Down the curve of my hip until it’s pressed against one of mine. “I want to show you something,” he says, lifting my hand in his. I think he’s going to pull me off the door and into a dark bedroom so he won’t have to look at me and all my glaring inadequacies. Instead, he guides my hand into the space between us. Lifting his other hand, he plants his palm on the door, next to my head so he can lean into my touch. “Do you feel this?” He whispers it, his gaze going dark and heavy when his fingers shape mine around the hard length of his cock. “I’m so fucking hard it hurts, Ellenore.” He leans into me again so I can feel every word he says brush against my lips. “You did that…” he sinks his teeth into my lower lip, nipping softly. “You and your ponytail, and your soccer mom sweater and your goddamned tennis shoes.” The hand on the door inches closer to my head. Close enough to wrap its fingers around my ponytail and give it a not so gentle tug, tilting my head back to expose my throat. “This isn’t a pity fuck. This isn’t I’m horny and anyone will do.” His mouth moves, nipping and kissing along my jawline. “I had a fight with my brother and took a ride to clear my head. Ended up at the bar because I didn’t want to go home just yet.” His teeth scrape along the place where my shoulder meets my neck and I moan, my hand instinctively tightening around his shaft when the sound of it causes his cock to jerk in response. “I wasn’t looking for a fuck but then there you were, looking so sexy I couldn’t have resisted you, even if I tried.” His teeth sink into my neck, deep enough to elicit another moan, this one sharper and shaped around his name.
“Lex…” my free hand lifts on its own, its fingers spearing through his hair before tightening into a fist while the hand on his cock sweeps a thumb across its head. He growls against me in response, the hot vibration of it humming over my skin before pushing deeper until it’s seeped into my muscles. Vibrating in my bones.
I’ve never made a man growl before.
I think I like it.
I think I want to do it again.
Before I can, Lex lifts his head, pinning his hot gaze to mine while the hand pressed against mine changes position. Sliding his fingers up to grip my wrist, he pulls my hand off of him, lifting it to pin it to the door above my head. The hand on my ponytail untangles itself to reach up and back, pulling my fingers from his hair. “Quiz time, Ellenore,” he says, stacking my hands together above my head, his long, thick fingers cuffing my wrists.
“Quiz?” Jesus, I can’t tell him what day of the week it is, let alone answer test questions.
“Yup.” His free hand splits my cardigan open until each side of it frames my breasts. “Question number one…” His gaze dips to watch as he circles one of my nipples with the tip of his index finger. It instantly stiffens and swells against the fabric of my shirt, seeking his touch. “Was I looking for someone to bring home tonight?”
I shake my head, gasping softly when the finger on my nipple is joined by his thumb, pinching and rolling it until I feel my bones start to melt. “No.”
“Correct.” He smirks at me again, the hand on my breast sliding down the length of my torso. “Question number two…” His fingers skim the soft skin just below my bellybutton. “Is making you come a part of some sort of pity fuck outreach program I’ve got going?”
“No.” I whisper the word and hold my breath when the fingers on my belly find the top button of my jeans and free it from its loop with a practiced flick.
“Good job.” He eases my zipper open, slowly working my jeans down my hips. “Question three…” he stops tugging when the waistband of my jeans is banded around the top of my thighs. I try not to think about what I’m wearing. White T-shirt. Beige cotton bra. Beige cotton briefs under my jeans.
That’s me.
Who I am.
Mom sweaters and serviceable cotton underwear.
Like he can read my mind, Lex frowns at me, his gaze lowering to my mouth. “Who am I hard for?”
The question stains my cheeks pink and the frown on his face deepens into something closer to a scowl. “Me,” I breathe it out in a rush, licking my lips because my mouth is so dry I feel like it’s been stuffed with cotton. “You’re hard for me.”
The frown on his face slips away, replaced by a look I’ve never seen aimed in my direction before.
Lust.
White-hot, mind-blowing lust.
His gaze bounces up to find mine. “You.” His hand slips between my thighs, the heel of it pressing against the top of my cleft while his fingers skim along the stretch of damp cotton between my legs. “Christ,” he groans, low and deep in his throat when he feels how wet I am. “What’s your ex-boyfriend’s name? The one who dumped you?”
“Derek.” I gasp it, the name ripped from my mouth when Lex grinds the heel of his hand against my clit and my hips jerk away from the door he has me pressed against, pushing and tilting into the pressure of his hand between my legs.
