Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi Read online

  He nodded again. “But had you played a game like Jenkins runs here in town, or that was your first?”

  Her finger traced the edge of his shirt sleeve. “My first.”

  His eyes focused on the headboard as he thought about who might have pulled a stunt like this.

  Her hands pushed on his arms. “You can let me go now.”

  He smiled. “You’re right, but there’s one problem.”

  She squinted at him. “There is?”

  “Yeah. I don’t feel like it.”

  Her lips pursed but he could tell she was holding back a smile. Then her head tipped back and she burst out laughing.

  The thin column of her neck begged for him to kiss it. He dragged his lips from just under her jaw down to the base of her neck where he sucked hard. She tasted so damn good, but hearing her laughter give way to a gasp went straight to his cock.

  Chapter 12

  Roommates with Benefits

  Stephanie

  OH GOD, HIS LIPS ON my neck felt so good! The slight pain of him sucking on my neck registered and I tried pulling away.

  “Har, I cannot go to work with a hickey on my neck.”

  “You got it wrong, Combes,” he murmured against my collar bone.

  “So did you, Michael.”

  He chuckled. “Wasn’t talking about my name that time. You’re wrong, you can go to work with a hickey. Let every fucking bastard know someone’s claimed your ass.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “But you’re not claiming me.”

  He raised his head. The sincerity in his eyes hit me hard.

  “Maybe I am.”

  My head tilted. “Which leaves room for ‘maybe you’re not.’”

  He rolled and pinned me to the bed. “Don’t do that shit, Stephie. You’re better than that. I know two things. I don’t want you moving and I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  I felt my eyebrows scrunching even though I didn’t want to give anything away. It blew my mind that he couldn’t stop thinking about me.

  “You like drivin’ my truck?”

  His subject change threw me. “Uh, what?”

  He grinned and ran his nose along my neck. “You heard me,” he murmured into my chest.

  “It was a one-off since my bike is fully functional again.”

  His head rose again, but his hair fell in his face so I slid the strands out of his eyes. The shift in his expression made my belly dip and warmth filled my chest. I thought he would kiss me, but he stayed focused.

  “Don’t like you being on a bike, Steph.”

  “Not a fan of being told what to do, Har.”

  His arms tightened around me and he rolled so quick I thought we’d tumble off the bed. Then he smacked my ass harder than he had in the living room, making me gasp and my sex throb.

  “Hey! What was that for?”

  His eyes danced while his hand rubbed where he smacked me. “I’m gonna tell you what I think. Doesn’t mean I’m telling you what to do, woman.”

  I shook my head. “Well, I’m not getting rid of my bike. The weather here isn’t that different than in Florida. I can survive riding in the rain.”

  “More tourists here than in Jacksonville, babe. And that makes it more dangerous.”

  I couldn’t argue his point, so I didn’t.

  “Which is why you’re in my truck when there’s weather.”

  I shot a dirty look at the dark oak headboard. A thought hit me and I looked back to him. “And what will you do when there’s weather?”

  He moved one shoulder in an attempt at a shrug. “Get a prospect to drive my ass in a cage if need be, but I’ll figure it out.”

  My lips twisted with skepticism for a moment. “What is this? A brick sails through my bedroom window, and you decide we’re roommates with benefits?”

  He shook his head. “We haven’t gotten to any benefits for me, baby.”

  I bugged my eyes out at him.

  He chuckled. “I don’t fuckin’ know, Steph, but I know I don’t have time to analyze this shit. It’s good, we’ll keep it going. It starts going bad, we’ll assess. In the meantime, I’m not analyzing shit and talking about feelings or other girlie bullshit.”

  His finger traced the area where he’d sucked on my neck. I tried not to lean into the touch, but I failed.

  “Come here, this needs filling in.”

  “Don’t give me a hickey. Give me an orgasm instead.”

  He cocked a brow at me. “Not a fan of being told what to do, Steph. But, I’m gonna damn well do both.”

  He slid calloused hands under my shirt and pulled it off. I watched his chest puff with a deep breath, and he palmed both of my breasts. Jolts of electricity ran through my body with each swipe of his thumbs on my nipples.

  His powerful frame twisted to plant me on my back. After tugging his shirt over his head, he lowered to kiss me, hard and rough. My panties were wet and my clit ached for attention. I spread my legs while my hands shoved into his pajamas, tugging them down. His lips trailed kisses along my jaw, down my neck and he stopped to suck harder on my lower neck.

  “Dammit, Michael. I—”

  He shut me up by plunging a hand inside my panties, his fingers immediately hitting their mark. His wicked ways knew no bounds. He kissed me, fingered me, and with his free hand, grabbed my hand to show me how he liked his cock stroked.

  God, but this was more fun than I’d had in a long damn time.

  The foreplay alone promised sex that would be the best ever, but I tried not to dwell on that because I was good at jinxing myself.

  He tore his lips from mine, slipped his hand out of my panties, guided my hand away from him and leaned forward to open his nightstand drawer. “Get those shorts off, Stephanie. I’ll be lucky if I don’t come just puttin’ the condom on, but we’re gonna be at this a few hours.”

  A few... hours? What? He would break me if we fucked for more than an hour, let alone a few of them.

  His head twisted, his eyes fiery on me. “Don’t make me tell you twice, baby.”

  I shucked my shorts while he tore the condom open. Watching him roll it onto his length heightened the ache in my core because he had a beautiful cock, long and thick. I couldn’t wait to get him in me.

  “Like you lookin’ at me like that, sweetheart. Now spread those luscious legs.”

  I met his gaze. “Maybe I should be on top.”

  He shook his head. “Not right now. I’m callin’ the shots, Combes.”

  My every instinct was to argue, but I bit my tongue.

  When I laid on my back, he hovered over me with a devilish grin. “Good girl.”

  Before I could respond, he lowered his head and nipped my breast forcing my back to arch. Everything he did built so much sensation it was torturous. Delicious torture.

  I slid my fingers into his hair. For a moment I wanted to hold him to my breast, but my need to kiss him won out and I pulled his mouth to mine. Our tongues dueled for a few moments, and I reveled in the feeling of his goatee on me.

  “You ready?” he asked in a husky voice I loved.

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  He paused as though he wanted to say something else, but instead he plunged inside me. His body lowered to mine and I heard him hiss with satisfaction. He rested his forehead on my collarbone and I ran my hands down his back. The ripple of his muscles felt sumptuous beneath my fingers.

  He lifted his hips and withdrew only to slam back into me. His thrusts were powerful and purposeful.

  I brought my hands around to tweak his nipples and he growled.

  “You’re playing with fire, Miss Priss. But I think you like the fire.”

  “Oh, yeah, I do,” I moaned as my hand fell away from him and slid down my belly.

  His eyes watched for a moment before he grabbed my hand and held it down by my side. “When you’re with me, Stephanie, you don’t make yourself come. I do. Am I clear?”

  I arched a brow because I wanted to have a smart-aleck comment to
that, but I just whispered, “All right.”

  He let go of my hand to yank my leg up by the knee. The shift in the angle made it harder for me to match his thrusts, but it allowed him to go deeper, which felt that much better.

  “Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good, baby. Knew I would nut fast with you, but not this fast.”

  He pounded harder, his hips grinding at the end of each thrust. Then his fingers rubbed my clit, his mouth came down on my breast sucking hard. I grabbed his ass while he ground himself into me. I felt my orgasm building.

  “God, yes,” I moaned.

  “Mmm,” he said. “Let go, Stephanie.”

  My orgasm washed over me and he thrust once more before stopping with a loud groan.

  He lowered himself to me, and I realized both our bodies were slick with sweat.

  “Wow,” I whispered.

  “No. Wow doesn’t cover how good that was, Steph.”

  I grinned. “I’m glad. I—”

  His finger came to my lips. “Stop, right there. Noticed you got low confidence about some things, stop that shit. I’m a damn lucky man. Buried to the hilt inside of you. After I deal with this condom, I’m gonna be lucky enough to feast on this tight pussy.”

  “You gonna kiss me first?”

  He smiled. “Absolutely.”

  Har

  HAR WANDERED OUT OF his bathroom and the sight of Stephanie in his bed made his dick twitch. It was unreal how much he liked her there. Almost as unreal as the feel of fucking her. That had proved better than he’d imagined, and he’d put serious effort into imagining many things about her.

  The clock read a quarter after midnight. She probably needed to sleep if she had work in the morning.

  “What’s your shift for tomorrow, honey?”

  “I’m on noon to eight. Why?”

  His head tilted. “Don’t want you to lose any sleep—”

  She grinned. “Har, I get by with five to six hours easy. Always have, so... you said you’d be fucking me for a few hours.” She rose to hands and knees, crawling across the bed toward him, her eyes fixed on his rising cock. “I’m down with whatever you’ve got in mind.”

  “You’re sounding awful cocky, Miss Priss.”

  She grinned. “I do like your cock, sir.”

  He smiled. “Good. Because you’re going to get a lot of it. There some reason you’re crawling to me?”

  She stood on her knees on the bed and she was still slightly shorter than his six feet two inches. “Yeah, you called the shots earlier. I’m thinking it’s my turn to call those shots.”

  He made a humming noise. “Part of me is dying to let you take the reins and see what you’ll do with me, but you don’t get it. I’ve had weeks of imagining the many ways I would fuck you, and I’ve damn sure been dying to eat you because the taste of you on my fingers was not enough, baby.”

  Her eyes widened. “You think I haven’t been through the same shit, Michael? Hell, you had the clubhouse to go to and I can’t imagine how many women—”

  His finger shot to her lips while he wrapped an arm around her to pick her up so they could both lay in the bed. “Don’t go there, Steph. I didn’t want to freak you out earlier, but the moment I put my cock in you, you became mine. I won’t be with any other women while I’m fucking you. But, you don’t bring up the sweet-butts with me. Got it?”

  Her lips set with disapproval. “I guess. Seems like a bit of a double standard, but whatever. My point is I’ve been just as horny and unable to—”

  “Funny, you mentioned your vibrator earlier.”

  She gave him a mock dirty look. “Yeah, yeah, but it is not the same. Believe me, I have plenty of things I want to do to you.”

  He grinned. “Good to know. You can talk all about them, while I actually do something with your sweet body.”

  IN THE MORNING, HOLDING a forkful of pancake halfway to his lips, he asked, “How’d you get into drawing?”

  She put her coffee cup down and swallowed. “You.”

  His brows furrowed. “Me? What the hell?”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “When you and Sammy were fixing up that bike, you always brought a notebook with you. Sometimes you would sketch things. Suzy said it was either naked girls or diagrams of the bike you guys were rebuilding, but I didn’t believe her.”

  He chuckled. “She was right on both counts. It was sketches of the engine, but on other pages I’d draw the whole bike with a naked girl on it.”

  She groaned and he couldn’t help but laugh. When he stopped, he said, “I still don’t understand how I got you into drawing since you never saw what I drew.”

  Her eyes skittered to the side for a moment. “Your mom was right. I had a screaming crush on you back then, and I decided if you were into something, I was into that something, too.”

  He shook his head, fascinated by the fact she paid so much attention to him when he was sixteen and seventeen years old. “That still baffles my mind, Steph, because you moved by the time I was eighteen. In two years, I had that much of an influence on you?”

  She laughed. “Don’t get full of yourself, mister. When we moved, sketching fell by the wayside for a couple years. When I was fourteen, I met a boy my age who could seriously draw, and I put new effort into developing my skills.”

  His brow cocked. “Not sure if I want to high-five this asshole or punch him.”

  “I’m not so sure myself, honey.”

  A strange sensation coursed through his body hearing her call him ‘honey.’ He shifted the subject slightly. “So, do you still sketch? Have any notebooks with drawings in them?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe a couple.”

  He chuckled and couldn’t remember the last time a woman made him laugh so frequently. “Translated, you’ve got seven or eight lying around somewhere. Probably that box in your room, if I had to guess.”

  Her eyes widened and she smacked the marble counter while she swallowed her food. “What do you know about the box in my room?”

  He laughed. “I know it’s full, it’s closed up tight, and just nudging that joker with my foot said it’s on the heavy side.”

  She gasped. “Oh my God! Were you in my room?”

  A mischievous grin curved his lips. “That night you made me check the recycle bin, I might’ve poked my head in your room. After I knew you were asleep, of course.”

  She grinned. “I should be mad, but I’m not. Part of me is really pleased you had to wait for me to go to sleep before you checked that.”

  “Back to what I really want to know, Stephanie, you got any sketches I can see? You know I’m working on bikes and custom cars, then you should know I’m always looking for new designs and inspiration.”

  Her head turned away for a few beats. He cleared his throat and she focused on him again. “Most of my stuff is pretty girlie, Har.”

  His chin dipped. “Before I walked into that house, I stood staring at your Harley for a full ten minutes because of those goddamn flames.”

  She schooled her features, but she couldn’t stop her gasp.

  “Yeah. I stared at that intricacy, woman, because I knew that wasn’t done around here. Those flames are beautiful. So, I don’t care how ‘girlie’ you think your sketches are, I wanna see ’em. If you’ll let me.”

  When her head shook he struggled to keep his distance. He knew she would try to downplay her talent and it would piss him off when she did.

  “There’s no intricacy—”

  “Shut up, Stephanie.”

  Her eyes bulged. “Excuse me?”

  He grinned. “Don’t sit there saying your sketch, and you told me you sketched it for them, has no intricacy. It’s insulting to you, and to me, since I know what I see every time I walk by your bike.”

  “Well, you don’t have to be rude about it.”

  He shook his head. “Not being rude, baby. I’m being real. You’ve got talent, based on your bike. I want to see what else you’ve got, so get over your embarrassment or whatever keeps you
from sharing. I’m not going to shame you in any way.”

  She hung her head while letting out a heavy sigh. When she looked up at him she had a small smile on her face. “All right, Michael. I’ll get my latest book, once I finish eating.”

  Chapter 13

  Doesn't Belong Around Your Pretty Neck

  Stephanie

  THE LAST TIME I LET anyone look at my sketch book had to have been four years ago. A woman I worked with at a fast-food place caught me in the break room and I didn’t realize it until she’d gasped as I put the finishing touches on a sexy merman I’d drawn, based on a book I had been reading.

  Showing my work to Har felt even more nerve-racking, not just because I gave a damn about his opinion but because he could draw. His body was close to mine as he sat on the other stool at the kitchen island. He put his hand down before I could turn a page and his finger traced the lines of a wolf there. His low hum told me he liked what he saw, and when I turned to him I knew he wondered if that wolf would work on a bike. My heart warmed seeing that look on his face, but when his eyes met mine my heart caught on fire.

  “Wasting your time dealing cards, Stephanie.”

  The fire in my heart grew hotter. I did a long blink and when I opened my eyes I focused on him hard. “What?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t know what your mother did to you since you left here, but even if this is me speaking ill of the dead, she’s fucked with your head long enough. You’re wasting your time dealing cards because you need to spend more time creating this,” he tapped hard on my sketch book, “kind of beauty. There’s a market for it, believe me.”