by Em Petrova
Looking down into her eyes, he knew the truth. And it plowed him over.
Throat constricted, he nodded. “You’re right. But it won’t begin with lust. I’ll treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
He let her slide down his body, and this time she lowered her feet to the ground. Bracing his hands on each side of her head, he leaned in and kissed her soft and slow. She might want to throw a match on a gas line and burn with him, but he intended to light a match and hold it to a wick, giving them time to get to know each other.
Her breaths came out as sharp pants. He pulled from the kiss and gathered her into his arms, cuddling her soft body against his chest and tucking her head beneath his chin. Hell, how had this happened? There could be a better time in his life to find a woman he finally cared about. The last thing he wanted to do was drag her through this legal shit with him.
He released her and took her by the hand. When he led her to her car, she threw him a look. Those big eyes nearly ripped away what little control he managed to find.
“You’ll follow me home?” She stared up at him.
“I’ll follow.”
She unlocked her car and slid inside. He watched her close the door before walking to his motorcycle and climbing on.
Her top was down around her waist and her nipples wet from Patriot’s mouth. He ravished her with lips and tongue before sanding his beard stubble across her flesh to snake his tongue around her other nipple.
She sank her fingers into his hair, pulling on him and begging the only way she knew how. She’d tried with words and to no avail. If he wouldn’t listen to her, then maybe her body would do a better job of showing the man just what she wanted.
He grazed her sensitive bud with his teeth before issuing a growl and lifting his head. “I promised we’d take it slow.”
She searched his face, wearing creases of hardcore desire around his eyes and mouth. “What does slow mean? Holding hands in the Mersey Park? Kissing on the Ferris wheel?”
He nodded. “For starters.”
“I don’t need a teenager’s love story. I’m not a teenager. I’m ready for a man, and you’re it.” She hated that she sounded so breathless and overeager, but the inferno inside her was getting the best of her.
“You deserve—” he started.
She cut through him. “I deserve the man I chose to pleasure me. Unless he doesn’t want to.”
That got to him. She watched the change in his eyes as the pupils drew to pinpoints. And the tendon in his jaw flickered as though he ground his teeth.
He dragged in a deep breath. “Baby…”
Long seconds passed.
“Fuck!” He lifted her and carried her through her living space to the corner where her bed sat. He dumped her onto the mattress and went straight for her jeans.
Her insides tumbled. Her clit throbbed, and juices flooded out to wet her panties. Grasping his shoulders, she tried to pull off his shirt, glad he’d shed his leather jacket at the door before scooping her into his arms.
He popped the button of her jeans, and a shiver coursed down her spine. His eyes burned into her as he skimmed the zipper downward and held her prisoner with his stare when he dipped his callused fingers into her panties.
Shaking with need, she pushed at her clothing. He helped her out of her jeans and panties, leaving her top ringed around her middle and her bra and shoes somewhere near the door.
When he stared down at her, she saw his throat work with a swallow. “You’re so damn beautiful. All this warm, perfect skin.” He ran a fingertip down her stomach to where her brown curls began. He continued downward, swishing the same finger through her curls, ruffling them, until he found her straining, wet bud.
The instant his fingertip landed atop her bundle of nerves, she trembled and cried out. “Yes, Patriot!”
“Unless I don’t want to. Jesus Christ,” he ground out a moment before dropping his heated mouth to her core.
Her mind blanked as he loved her with his mouth. A slow sucking kiss that expanded to long laps of his tongue. He drew her legs apart and then up and over his shoulders. When he yanked her down the bed and impaled her pussy on his long tongue, the waves started coming.
She thrashed, gripping the covers, his hair, his shoulders, anything to anchor her to this world as the biggest orgasm of her life rose up. It clutched her like an animal tossing its prey, and helpless, she gave herself up to it.
He sank his tongue in and then pulled it free to work up to her clit once more. As he sank two fingers deep into her pussy, her insides flooded and clamped around his digits.
“I need your cock. Need you. Patriot!”
“Mmm.” Without moving from his position, he watched her coming apart for him. He added a third finger, stretching her to what must surpass any man’s size—his hands were so big. But the burn of being stretched so far stole her last shred of sanity, and she came.
Screams escaped her lips, and she writhed under him. He didn’t stop loving on her, eating her pussy until she thought she’d lose her mind, and then tipped over the edge and started to climb a second time.
Was that possible? Coming two times in a row? She was about to find out.
When she peaked again, he slowed time, space and every cell of her body to his own schedule. His fingers moving slow as he gave long, agonizingly slow licks of his tongue. She shook and gasped his name while he dragged her release on and on.
Small twitches of ecstasy made her body jolt with every touch, and a final cry tore from her.
Dazed, she centered on his face. A smug expression loomed in his eyes, along with small creases at each corner.
As she looked on, he flattened his tongue and drew it up, up, through her slick, quivering folds, over the sensitive bud of her clit and then he slowly lifted it from her skin.
She trembled. “Patriot,” she rasped.
His stare smoldered through her. “You like that?”
Words couldn’t express the sensations that overlapped feelings layered with emotions. She drew him up her body. He hovered over her, arm muscles bulging. Tenderness washed over her, so deep and strong that she had a new awareness of what it all meant. She might be inexperienced but she wasn’t stupid. She was falling for him.
She reached up and stroked his jaw, learning the angled lines and every hair sprouting from it. “I’m ready for more,” she whispered.
Running his tongue over his hard lower lip, he studied her. “I’m not.”
She blinked in shock.
His answering smile told her she wouldn’t receive more from him tonight—what she got would have to tide her over until he made the choice to move forward. Patriot wouldn’t be pushed, no matter how much she wanted to feel him joined with her. He considered waiting as an act for her own good, and maybe he was right.
Still, she felt her lips pout outward.
He chuckled and lightly brushed a kiss across her mouth. “You’re beautiful, sweet and delicious. I want more of you, baby. Never doubt that. I wanted more on that mountain and more than ever now. If I could spread these tanned legs and work my hard cock into you right this minute without feeling like a son of a bitch, I would.”
His dirty talk had her dragging a deep breath into her lungs and shudders passing through her body.
Another full heartbeat passed between them before he did a pushup and moved off the bed. He stood at the side—fully clothed, damn him—and gave her one dark perusing look.
He started to turn to go.
Panicked, she sat up. “Wait! When will I see you?”
“I’ll find you.” He threw her a crooked grin that curled her toenails. He took a few more steps before he tossed a glance over his shoulder. “No more mowing lawns in those shorts and bikini top.”
She raised her jaw. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll do more than toss those guys out on the lawn.” Without another word, he left her apartment.
All at once, the situation hit her with excitement and a level
of happiness she’d never known.
At the click of the door, she buried her face in her hands and giggled. Her family would tell her she’d lost her mind…and she couldn’t care less.
Chapter Six
“Jay, would you like to play a board game before your mom comes home?” The boy sat at the window staring outside, but he refused to go out since the hammering episode bothered him last time.
Aarica rested a hand on Jay’s shoulder and turned him from the window. Admittedly, some of her urge to change his fixation was her own question of why Patriot and his crew weren’t outside working right now, when clearly the project wasn’t finished.
The boy turned to her, and she led him to the coffee table, where they knelt over the board game she already set up.
“Blue,” he said.
“You want to be blue?” She smiled at him as he enthusiastically spun the dial in the center of the board.
Several minutes passed in innocent fun, but her mind kept returning to Patriot. Not only did the man have a grip on her she couldn’t explain, but she was excited to open up to someone she felt close to—someone she could trust—to share her personal goals with.
Getting off the farm was only her first step. She never wanted college for herself, but she didn’t want to work three jobs to have enough to live in a small efficiency apartment either.
She enjoyed working with Jay more than anything else she’d ever done. She’d been looking into some online classes or aide programs near Mersey to widen her scope of knowledge. Fact was, she’d lucked into working with Jay in the first place, and she wanted to continue with him or others who required extra guidance.
She’d seen people at the grocery stores assisting adults through their own purchases and taking them to doctor’s appointments and such. She wanted to be there for someone in that capacity, and from what she’d seen, she only needed a little training.
She’d been thinking on it a long time, and coming to Mersey to take the position with the Posts had been the first step in her plan. Now, understanding this was where her heart lay, she was ready to take a step forward.
It would still be nice to have someone to confide in who wasn’t her family member. After all, they’d support her if she told them she decided to build her own rocket and fly to Mars. She needed someone less bias to bounce things off. Maybe spoken aloud, her decision would begin to feel real too.
She glanced toward the window and the clear blue Tennessee sky. Why wasn’t Patriot working today? He spread his time between projects, probably based on demand, but it did feel rather odd as well as quiet around here.
Jay won the first game, and she won the second. Grinning, she told him, “If I lose the next round, I’ll buy you a snow cone the next time the ice cream truck comes around.”
His smile couldn’t widen more at the challenge. “You’re…on!” he said in his disjointed speech she was growing to love hearing from him the more he opened up and talked to her.
In a short time, they’d become friends and he seemed to trust her—a huge step for a child with autism. He also liked having her near and had taken to holding her hand even if they walked to the kitchen for lunch. All these things warmed her heart, and she couldn’t wait to come back to see him next time.
They got halfway through the third game when Jay’s momma entered the house. Carrying a bag of groceries and with her face flushed red from the heat of the day, she walked to the kitchen counter and dumped the bag on it.
Jay looked up at Aarica, and she knew from his crestfallen expression what he was thinking—they hadn’t finished their game and he wouldn’t have a chance to win that snow cone.
She smiled at the boy. “I’ll still buy you that snow cone. We can finish this game next time I see you. Wanna go see what your momma brought home in that bag?”
The sad look in his eyes cleared, and he jumped up from his cross-legged position around the coffee table to run to the kitchen.
Aarica cleared away the game and placed it on the closet shelf before she walked in to see Mrs. Post speaking to her son as he unpacked the bag. He found his favorite fruit drink and asked for some right now.
His mother allowed him half a glass before dinner and then turned to Aarica with a smile. “How was everything today?”
“Great. We get along so well. I love spending time with him.”
She beamed. “I’m so glad to hear it. I know having him several days is hard on my mother sometimes. She’s getting older and Jay can be a handful. Maybe we could discuss you coming an extra day every week?”
Her smile spread. “I’d love that,” she said with genuine feeling and a lump rising in her throat.
“It’s great to have someone Jay connects to sitting with him, and I can see he’s learning things from you that others haven’t taught him before. It’s only been a few days and I already see a change.”
Aarica helped Jay pour his juice and then replace the cap on it. She told him to place it in the refrigerator and watched him complete the task. Then she turned to Mrs. Post.
“Can I ask about the crew working on your garage?”
Her eyes took on a flat look as she turned to Aarica. “What about them?”
How to phrase it so it didn’t sound as though she only wanted to see the hot, shirtless man on the roof again? The man who gave her two back-to-back orgasms and said things that blew her mind.
“I wondered if you told them not to come today because the noise upset Jay last time.”
“Oh. No. Haven’t you heard about the crew?”
Tensing, she shook her head.
Mrs. Post continued, “They’re under investigation for thefts on the properties they work on. Several things missing, including a motorcycle.”
Stunned beyond words, she took in the information while at the same time downright rejecting it. She had not been told about the motorcycle. No wonder the sheriff was after a member of the Dark Falcons. Everything was pointing directly to Patriot.
He was a biker, and guys involved in the MC life were known to have bad reputations. But she never looked into his eyes and saw a criminal. At the bar, the guys were nothing but respectful, and the other patrons seemed to respect them rather than fear them. Surely, that was a sign of their upstanding reputation in the town.
When she remained quiet, Mrs. Post nodded. “It’s shocking, I know. As a single woman, I always investigate any repairmen or servicemen, and Stone Construction has a very good rating and a lot of good reviews in Mersey.”
“Do you think they did it?” Her voice came out weaker than she wanted.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I felt better putting off the rest of the garage work until they know more about the thefts. Since the garage is under roof, the other things can wait, and I thought postponing the work is best.”
Poor Patriot. He must be beside himself. First the accusations that sent the deputy sheriff after him and now losing work and income from the mess.
Fiona hadn’t scheduled her to work tonight, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t go into the bar looking for Patriot. He said he’d find her, but no telling how long that would be, and she wanted to speak to him. He might be a big tough guy, but she needed to make sure he was okay.
Patriot leaned his elbows on the table and dropped his head. “I can’t believe shit’s gone so sideways.”
Dixon pushed out a rough growl. “Your crew has to be lyin’. One of them stole that shit.”
He grunted. “The sheriff questioned all of them twice.”
“But did he search their homes?”
Patriot lifted his head and speared his prez in his stare. “I don’t hire dumb asses. If one of them did it, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to keep the stolen goods on their property.”
Dixon scrubbed his hands over his face. “They’re gunning for your ass, Patriot. Pure and simple.”
“Someone made it look as if it was me or my crew behind it. Someone who’s been watching us and tracking our whereabouts.”
Resting against the back of his chair, Dixon seemed deep in thought, working over the conundrum. “It definitely seems that way.”
“We just need to find out who this motherfucker is and make him pay for what he’s doing to my business. I’ve spent the last ten years building a name for myself. I won’t just let it crash and burn without putting up a fight.”
“No way in hell. We have to find this person. Did you give the sheriff a list of names of all the guys on your crew over the past five years?”
“Yeah, I got him the information. But I doubt he’ll find more than I did when I questioned them.” He and Dixon’s eyes met. “Without security footage from either of the homes, we have no damn clue who really did it, and I’m in line for arrest.”
“Man, you don’t know that.”
He stared bleakly at his prez. “Bet me. The sheriff’s coming with a warrant for my arrest any time, and I’ll have no choice but to go with him.”
“Fuck.” Dixon shoved away from the table, and Patriot got up to lean over the table, hands braced on the edge he’d created in the wood himself.
A long silence fell over them, and Patriot’s thoughts darkened more. The sheriff mentioned having enough to charge him, and Patriot had no damn clue who he gleaned his information from, but he didn’t think the sheriff was bluffing.
“Everything’s fucking falling apart,” he grated out.
Dixon turned and exchanged a look with him. “It’s not over, man. Whatever happens, we’re behind you. We believe in your innocence, and we’ll all go down in flames trying to find who the real thief is if it means clearing your name.”
His throat thickened. “I appreciate it, brother.”
Dixon threw a look at the big neon beer clock on the wall that used to hang in Fiona’s bar. “I gotta go. I told Fiona I’d be in to help her move some heavy shit in the back to make room for a new fryer.”
“Yeah, take care of your business, man.” Patriot straightened from his hunched pose over the table.