Biker romance book bundl.., p.308
Biker Romance Book Bundle: 17 Full Length Novels, page 308
Kimberly
He seemed nervous, which made me feel uneasy. I wouldn’t have guessed men like him ever got nervous. Watching him pace in front of the living room window told me otherwise. When he glanced at the street for the umpteenth time, I had to ask.
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Yeah.” His gaze met mine. “What’s the deal with that friend of yours across the street?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s her story?” Facing me, he tilted his head toward the window behind him. “Is she available?”
“She’s uhhm. Yeah. She’s. She’s divorced,” I muttered, confused as to why he was asking. “Why?”
“I was just wondering. I thought Tito might want to get with her when his jaw’s better.”
I was relieved at his revelation as to why he asked, but I couldn’t help but laugh a little at the thought of it. “After that story of yours, I don’t know if she’ll want to. Maybe. It’s hard saying with her.”
“Yeah. That’s kind of why I stopped by. That, and a few other things.”
“You lost me.” Confused, I sat on the edge of the couch cushion and gave him a look. “What do you mean?”
He sauntered across the room and relaxed at my side on the couch. “I want to elaborate. Make a few things. I don’t know. Clear. A couple of things, anyway. Maybe three or four.”
His stammering made me feel uneasy again. It worsened with each pronounced tick of the Tiffany & Co. Chelsea knock-off that sat on the end table at his side.
“Okay,” I murmured.
He was beating around the bush. I wondered what could have happened in the twenty-four hours since he’d revealed the complications of his childhood romance that almost was. While ideas of him laying out his departure plans formulated in my overactive mind, he cleared his throat.
“I wasn’t one hundred percent truthful with you – or with myself – when I told my story the other night. Or when I told you about why I didn’t do relationships.”
I was still quite curious, and a little relieved. “What uhhm. Okay. Well, I’ll listen if you’d like to clarify things.”
He inhaled a long breath. After exhaling heavily, he stood. “I’m not sure if it was what happened with the girl when I was in high school or something else, but I’ve always kind of ran away from anything that even came close to resembling a relationship. I’ve never been in one, really.”
His tired eyes met mine. It was my cue to make him comfortable with the situation. “I’ve only been in one, so we’re pretty close to each other in that respect,” I said, hoping my lack of relationship experience would provide him peace of mind.
He turned toward the window. “I told Baker I was done.”
After studying the darkened street, he turned around. His face was solemn.
I was far more confused than I was before he started speaking. Hoping that he was at a loss for words – and that he was going to complete the half-finished sentence that he’d started – I waited.
But nothing came.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what that means,” I said. “You told Baker you were done?”
He sat in the chair across from me and let out a breath. “I told everyone about you. Then, when Baker asked whether I was going to continue seeing you or not, I said I was done. But I wasn’t.”
“When did this happen?”
“The Wednesday after the Sunday night we ate dinner here.”
I still had no idea where he was going with the conversation. I looked at him and wrinkled my nose. “A few weeks ago?”
“I guess,” he said. “Yeah.”
“But you’re not? Not done, that is?” I asked, my voice laced with hope.
“No. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to clear things up.”
I thought I knew what he was trying to say, but I felt like I may be reading between the lines. Considering his nervous state – and the fact that he’d done nothing more than mutter a few half-baked sentences – I stood and shook my head.
“I just finished spring inventory. It’s been a long, exhausting day, and I’m mentally challenged right now,” I explained. “Start at the beginning. Just say everything you want to say, and don’t leave anything out.”
He forced a sigh and then looked right at me. “That first night we went out, I decided you were different. In my gut, I wanted to see you again, because I’d never been with a chick that made me feel like I was kicking it with one of the fellas, but that’s how you made me feel. Then, when you sucked my cock, it scared me. I was afraid that I’d become dependent upon you, and if I did, it’d mean I was weak. Even so, I was pretty excited about that blowjob, so I told all of the fellas about it at church. Then, when Baker asked if I was going to keep seeing you, I said ‘no’. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I was scared about that dependency thing. Technically, because Tito heard me say that I wasn’t going to see you any more, I was wrong when I hit him, even though I wasn’t emotionally disconnected from you. It took Goose and Ghost getting in my face about it to make me realize I was wrong. When they did, I went to Tito’s and apologized. He accepted my apology but kicked me in the nuts afterward. I sat at 7-Eleven with an icepack between my legs for an hour, and then I came here to apologize to you. So, here I am.” He spread his arms wide. “Any questions?”
It was a tremendous amount to digest all at once, but I did my best. I did, however, have several questions.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve got a few.”
“Go ahead.”
“Everyone in your MC goes to church together?”
“No. If I walked into a church, I’d burst into flames,” he said with a laugh. “Church is what we call the MC’s weekly meeting.”
I tried to remember everything he’d said, and then decided it didn’t matter. He’d spilled his guts in an effort to apologize. Everything was out on the table. That, in itself, was enough to convince me he was worth my time.
As much as I wanted to avoid the subject, it was my turn to be equally honest. I inhaled a shallow breath and stood.
I held my head high and looked him in the eyes. “In the spirit of being completely honest, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m biracial. My father was black.”
I braced myself for him to do what everyone else did when they found out.
He stared at me for a long moment. Then, his lips parted slightly. “Sorry,” he said. “I thought you were going to say something else. Is that it?”
I bit into my lower lip and nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m half Irish. Don’t know what the other half is, because my mom didn’t know much about my dad. My Mom’s from Ireland, though. So, I’m really half Irish.”
“You’re okay with that?” I asked excitedly.
He looked puzzled. “That I’m Irish?”
I shook my head.
“With what?” he asked.
“That I’m half-black.”
“What the fuck’s that got to do with anything?” he asked. “You’re cool as a fan. That’s all that matters.”
“Cool as a fan?” I grinned and then choked on a laugh. “Is that a biker saying?”
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s one of ‘em.”
“I’m good with everything if you’re good with everything,” I said.
His eyes narrowed. “You sure?”
I was. Completely. I nodded eagerly. “Yes.”
He glanced around the room, and then looked at me. His mouth twisted into a smirk.
“Wanna fuck?” he asked playfully.
Dressed in his tattered jeans, lace-up boots, and a plain white tee shirt, Cash was strikingly handsome. He was also big, muscular, intimidating, tattooed, and mean-looking. As he stood and anxiously waited for me to respond, he exposed yet another quality about himself.
He was cute.
“I’ve got a few questions first,” I responded. “But I need you to be honest, no matter what.”
“You’ve got my word.”
“Do you have club whores?”
He laughed. “Nope.”
“Stripper poles in the clubhouse?”
“Afraid not. We’ve got a few pinball machines, though.”
“Have you ever been involved in a cum-fest?”
His eyes narrowed. “A cum-what?”
“Everyone in the clubhouse jacks off on a girl’s face. Then, she has to eat it. You might call it something else, but that’s what I’ve heard it called.”
“Girls aren’t allowed in our clubhouse,” he said. “And most of the fellas jack off at home.”
I laughed at his response, wondering why anyone would jack off in the clubhouse. “I’ve got one last thing,” I said. “More of a request, than anything.”
He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Okay.”
“I want.” I swallowed hard. “I want you to kiss me.”
The few feet that separated us promptly vanished. He raised his hands to the sides of my face. His fingers laced together at the back of my neck and his thumbs rested against my cheeks.
I exhaled an uneven breath and closed my eyes.
His soft lips melted against mine. Eagerly, I kissed him, imagining it was the first time I’d ever been kissed.
As he kissed me in return, I wanted to take back all the past kisses in my life, leaving only that kiss in my memory bank of kisses.
Our bodies pressed tightly against one another. His presence enveloped me, and it was much stronger than his muscular physique.
My mind went blank of all thoughts, leaving only the kiss – and that moment as he held me against his chest – to focus on. At the instant that our lips parted, my knees went weak. In response, his hands slid to my lower back, preventing me from falling at his feet.
I opened my eyes.
He opened his.
That kiss erased all kisses of my past. With one simple kiss, Cash owned me.
It was only fitting, considering what happened that night in the kitchen. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and swallowed the taste of him. Lightheaded, yet eager to speak, I peered into his fierce blue eyes and smiled.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I wanna fuck.”
60
Cash
I didn’t want to do anything that would cause her to compare me to her ex-husband, nor did I want to be the man of my past. I hoped whatever happened between Kimberly and I would be different.
I reached for the buckle of my belt and looked around the room. My mind’s slate was wiped clean of the sexual experiences of my past. With a stomach full of butterflies and a mind filled with hope, I unbuckled my belt.
I was one mistake away from doing what I’d done for a lifetime. Sabotaging what little I’d developed between us would be easy. Preserving it would require a mindset that was unfamiliar to me.
But I was willing to give it an honest try.
Hoping to appear anything but overanxious, I watched with eager eyes as she lifted her dress over her head.
I pushed my jeans down my thighs and then kicked them aside.
She unclasped her bra and dropped it at her feet.
I took off my shirt.
She reached for her panties.
I slipped my thumbs beneath the waistband of my boxers.
We freed ourselves of our last garment as if synchronized. Standing on either side of the bed, naked, we gazed at each other with admiring eyes.
To learn to ride a motorcycle, a person must risk falling over.
I embraced that thought, swallowed hard, and lowered myself onto the bed. Hoping I didn’t do anything stupid between the beginning and the end of whatever we were going to share, I rolled onto my side and watched as she climbed onto the opposite side.
I stared at her with unfocused eyes and inhaled her sweet scent. At that instant, I was no longer in her bedroom. I was in my childhood room, filled with nervous hope that the girl who was willing to give me a moment of her time liked me as much as I liked her.
I reached for her, hoping this time would be different.
I needed it to be.
61
Kimberly
Each of my six senses were dancing excitedly.
I expected if the time came that we decided to engage in sex, that I’d be enamored by Cash’s muscles, chiseled physique, and interesting tattoos.
I was dead wrong.
Despite his breathtaking body, and the presence of muscles I had no idea he possessed, none of those things seemed to matter.
My eyes were feasting on his angular jaw, steel-blue eyes, and what little scruff had grown along the edge of his cheeks.
With faultless timing, his hips worked back and forth, filling me completely with each full stroke of his perfectly-sized dick.
His girth stretched me so wide I feared I’d be torn in two, but it wasn’t so painful I wanted him to stop. His length was such that each stroke reminded me of my physical limitations, but I didn’t wish he had any less dick to give me.
My sense of touch was slightly overwhelmed, but satisfied completely, nonetheless.
The absence of sexual banter left the sound of our breathing, the sex, and my noisy bed frame to fulfill my sense of hearing.
My nostrils flared as I inhaled the sweet aroma of our sex. Combined with his unique musky scent and the smell of my own perfume, the unique mixture drove me wild with passion.
Although I could still taste him on my tongue, I wanted more. I gripped his shoulders in my hands and raised my face to his neck. Upon tasting the salt of his sweat against the tip of my tongue, I eagerly pressed my mouth against his shoulder and cinched his flesh between my teeth.
In a sensual coma of sorts, I was incapable of doing anything but attempt to satisfy him with each gyration of my hips. In unison with his movements, I ground myself against him, hoping I could somehow give the same level of satisfaction he was providing me.
“You’ve got to stop that.” He twisted his neck to the side, pulling away from me. “You’re driving me nuts.”
“We’re even,” I breathed.
“Second time I heard that tonight,” he said.
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
He pushed himself into me fully, paused, and then gazed into my eyes. “Does that feel good?”
“I love it,” I cooed.
“Your pussy is ridiculous.”
The look on my face must have caused him to rethink his statement. Before I could ask for clarification, he gave one.
“Good ridiculous, not bad ridiculous.” He withdrew his entire length and then shifted his eyes between my legs. “You’ve got a pretty little pussy, but it feels even better than it looks.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “I’m glad you like it.”
Slowly, he slid his length inside me until the tip met the soft tissue of cervix. I drew a choppy breath and closed my eyes. “Jesus. That feels good.”
He let out a sigh. “Tell me about it.”
Lying flat on my back, I raised myself onto my elbows and peered toward the action. His chiseled torso was pressed tight to mine, preventing me from seeing anything but the eight-pack of abs that he’d undoubtedly spent a lifetime developing.
“Can you raise up a little bit so I can watch?” I asked.
He arched his back, lifting his torso in the process. As he raised his cute little ass in the air, I watched his shaft pull free, exposing one glistening inch after the other. When the tip slipped past my pussy lips, I unconsciously drew a shallow breath.
“Do it,” I whispered.
“What?”
I looked at him, and then between my legs. “I want to watch you fuck me.”
He grinned a sly grin. “Okay.”
Slowly, and rhythmically, he began. I raised my hips and gazed between my legs. In and out, his entire length traveled, bringing me closer to climax with each stroke. Seeing his girth stretch me open was nothing short of a miracle, and I found it fascinating.
Every woman wants to believe her pussy is tight. I knew mine was, because for the last five years, sticking one finger inside of it caused me to come repeatedly.
Watching his thick dick disappear inside of me over and over was driving me insane.
“Faster,” I breathed.
He increased his pace slightly. With it, each stroke became fractionally more intense.
I fixed my eyes between my legs. “Faster.”
I watched his slippery shaft as he pulled his hips back, then held my breath with every forceful thrust. Each time his hips slapped against my inner thighs, the breath shot from my lungs.
I glanced up. “Harder,” I begged.
Washed with intensity, his face wore a slight – yet satisfactory – grin.
“Okay,” he said.
He pounded himself into me, slamming the soft skin of the tip of his dick into my cervix with each powerful thrust. Every stroke brought with it a savage grunt. Having seen all there was to see, and knowing I was on the cusp of bursting, I closed my eyes and relaxed onto my back.
“Bite my titties,” I begged as I collapsed onto the bed. “Please.”
Maintaining his pace, he fucked me like he was mad at me, which was exactly what I had hoped for. His mouth moved back and forth between each boob, sucking and nibbling until the combination of everything simply became too much for me to handle.
My body tensed, my eyes opened, and my pussy clenched his dick like a vise.
“I’m gonna--”
He lifted his head. “That makes…two…of us.”
With his eyes locked on mine, and his hands caressing my breasts, he worked his hips back and forth methodically until my body began to tremble.
A tingling ran through me. Overtaking my senses and leaving me brainless, it shot though me from head to toe. Incapable of doing anything but enjoying the fire that burned between my legs, I moaned. I shouted. I sank my fingers into the flesh of his muscular back.
And, I came.
Repeatedly.
I felt his shaft swell. Two strokes later, he erupted inside of me.
