Nicky (Fallen Gliders MC Book 1)

by Lynn Burke

  She wouldn’t want to deal with my personal shit, though.

  Rolling onto my back, I released Mel’s pillow and stretched. I considered getting out of bed and showering, but I couldn’t bring myself to move from the soft, sweet-smelling mattress beneath me.

  The door leading down to the bar squeaked open, and I listened as Mel moved around the kitchen. Brewing coffee, I noted with appreciation as the scent filtered into the bedroom a few minutes later.

  She peeked her head in the cracked-open doorway. “You’re awake.”

  I motioned her over. “Somewhat.”

  The mattress beside me dipped as she sat, her shuttered eyes and body language telling me something was on her mind.

  I lifted a hand to brush long strands of her hair over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t want to bother you with my emotional shit when you’ve got so much going on.”

  “Emotional shit, huh?”

  With a nod, she glanced away.

  Gaze narrowed, I captured her around the waist and pulled her down on top of me. “I missed you yesterday,” I said against the shell of her ear.

  “You did?” Her voice caught as I sucked her lobe between my lips.

  “I wanted you with me, but figured you couldn’t be stuck at the hospital all night with me.”

  Mel pulled back and peered down at me, tears coating her eyes. “I thought you didn’t want me there.”

  “Well, I did.”

  “I told Kelly to shut down after the dinner rush slowed when she’d called us on top of the mountain.”

  “I didn’t hear you tell her that, or I would have gone straight to the hospital.”

  Her small smile flooded me with happiness, and she lay down on my chest again with a sigh.

  I held her close, my lips against her hair. “Suzie’s going to go through a detox program, then I’m shipping her off to rehab. I want you to go with me when I take her.”

  “How do you think Suzie will feel about that?”

  “I don’t give a shit. If I’m in her life—and I am—then so are you. Besides, I’m paying for it.”

  “You’re a good man, Dominic Landon.”

  I snorted. “Hardly.”

  Mel nuzzled her face against my chest, her lips trailing wet kisses in a senseless pattern and hardening my cock between the warmth of her thighs.

  “Is the new girl on the clock?”

  She lifted her head and ran her thumb over my lower lip. “Yes.”

  “Take off your jeans,” I said, lifting her off me and pushing the sheet covering me past my waist. My cock sprang up, drawing her attention. I palmed myself, slowly jerking while she scurried to get every stitch of her clothing off.

  She started to climb on the bed, but I grabbed her hips. “Sit on my face. I want to taste your sweet pussy.”

  Pupils huge, she bit on the inside of her lip and crawled over me.

  Settling her thighs on either side of my head put her wet pussy directly above me, and I yanked her down onto my face, shoving my tongue deep into her. With a moan, she wiggled her hips, and I ate her out like a starving man, lapping, burying my nose in her tangy sweetness, nibbling and sucking until she panted.

  “Now ride me, little girl,” I growled, pushing her down over my chest. “Take what you need.”

  Mel slid the rest of the way down my body, leaving a smear of her arousal across my skin. Her pussy lips slickened down over my cock, and the second she lined up with the throbbing head, I shoved in with one thrust.

  A shudder rippled through both of us, and Mel bit down on her lower lip as I pushed her up to sit on me. My hands full of her breasts, I rolled her nipples and held still as she gyrated her hips.

  Emotion flooded over her face, pupils dominating the whiskey color of her eyes. A small smile lifted her lips as she began rocking along my length, her wetness coating my pelvis.

  “You love my hard cock, don’t you?” I asked, pinching her nipples. “Shoved all up that tight little pussy of yours.”

  She gasped. “God, yes.”

  I thrust as she took me deep, drawing another gasp from her. “You’re the only one I want riding me. Ever.” She leaned down over me, and I grabbed her hips, holding her still as my balls tightened to the point of pain. “I love you, Mel,” I whispered, my attention locked on her face.

  Tears filled her eyes again. “I love you, too, Nicky. So damn much it hurts.”

  And I thought happiness had found me before. Fucking unbridled joy rolled over me, and I leaned up to capture her mouth, taking control. I pumped in and out of her soaked pussy, her moans spurring me on faster.

  “I’m going to fill you with my cum so you’ll never forget you’re mine,” I said, so fucking close stars darted my vision.

  “Yes!” Mel arched her back, thrusting her breasts at me as her pussy clamped down on my length.

  With a shout, I gave over and fucked her with everything I had, my balls exploding spurt after spurt deep inside of her tightness.

  Arms clenched around her, I held on as her pussy milked every drop from me and we stilled, chests heaving for air.

  Strands of her hair clung to my damp face, and I closed my eyes, soaking in the happiness she’d brought to my life. “You’re it for me, Mel.” I squeezed her tight. “If I can’t have you in my life, if you aren’t my future, then I might as well curl up and die because that’s where I was headed before I found you.”

  A sigh whispered past her lips against my ear. “I knew you belonged to me the second I laid eyes on you,” she said.

  I fucking grinned like a fool. “Does that mean I get to keep the apartment key you gave me?”

  Mel lifted her head and touched her fingertips to my smiling lips. “Yes.”

  I flicked my tongue along the pad of her middle finger. “You’re mine forever, Mel.”

  “Yes,” she whispered again, filling up every piece of my soul with her light.

  The End

  www.authorlynnburke.com

  Other Books by Lynn Burke:

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  BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER

  SUSCEPTIBLE TO HIM

  Risso Family, 1

  Lynn Burke

  Copyright © 2015

  Lia

  “I got you a date for tonight.”

  My roommate’s words whipped my head around, and my tossed keys landed on the floor inside our apartment door rather than on top of the bookshelf where they belonged. I glared at the spiked red hair, gelled-to-hell atop her head, while kicking the door shut behind me. “You did what?”

  Slumped in her usual spot on our tattered couch, Gwen clicked away on her laptop. “You are going out tonight with a royal hottie.”

  “A date. With a hottie.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  Scowling, I flung my purse on the kitchen table and pulled open the fridge door. A quick peek at the meager contents, and my frown deepened. “Did you eat my leftover lo mein?”

  “Yup.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Yup.”

  “I had a shitty day, Gwen. I’m not in the mood.”

  She snapped her laptop closed, placed it on the coffee table, and stood. “It’s been two years.”

  Jack.

  My throat tightened, fading my annoyance. The love of my life since thirteen, my high school sweetheart. The one who, our sophomore year in college, promised me forever with a 2-carat stone set in platinum. The one I had expected to spend every Valentine’s Day with until I lay in a cold grave.

  “You know what day it is.” The words tore from my lips. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Time to move on, Lia.”


  I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. My neck ached. My eyes burned. As with every evening upon returning home from work, I cursed my life, my choice in jobs. Men and accounting sucked ass. “I can’t.”

  “You can, and you will.”

  Heaving a sigh, I met her hazel-eyed stare. My best friend since middle school, there was nothing Gwen didn’t know about me. We roomed all through college and then got an apartment in the North End upon graduation. Close enough to home to please my papa, but far enough away to enjoy some independence.

  Not that I’d done anything to warrant either of my parents’ disapproval since I signed the lease.

  The ring through Gwen’s bottom lip twitched, and a smirk soon followed.

  My body stilled. I knew the look well, the type that had always landed us in trouble during our college years. “What did you do?”

  “Don’t get mad.”

  “What. Did. You. Do.”

  She tugged on the frayed edge of her faded Princess Ariel t-shirt. Her pale cheeks flushed. “You know that website I use?”

  “Oh, good Lord.” I palmed my hips. “The lure-a-lover or whatever the hell it’s called?”

  “Yup.”

  I waited, brow raised.

  Gwen sucked in a breath. “Well, I decided to make you a profile and find you the perfect match for a little tickle and poke.”

  What the hell? My Italian temper screamed for release, but I strode down the hallway before I could spout off shit I’d regret.

  “Come on, Lia.” A scramble of feet, and Gwen grabbed my forearm, halting my angry stomping. “You’ve gotta be sick and tired of listening to me and my flavor of the week through these thin walls.”

  “Ear buds, Gwen.” I jabbed my fingers toward the sides of my head. “Ear buds.”

  “Whatever.” She released my arm. “You need to get laid.”

  “I have Mr. Pink.”

  She snorted. “Sorry, but there’s no vibrator on the face of this earth that satisfies like a nice thick—”

  “Gah. Enough, already.” I turned and moved away.

  “One little date. One night of passion to help you get over him.”

  I paused inside the dim room I called my haven—the one place I could allow daily tears to flow without fear of someone finding out I still mourned the bastard who broke my heart.

  “It’s Valentine’s Day, Gwen,” I whispered.

  “Which is precisely why you need this. Ryan Walsh will make you forget Jack the jackass.”

  “Ryan Walsh.”

  “Yup. Hotter than hell. Black hair long enough to tangle your fingers in, the perfect amount of scruff, and crystal-clear blue eyes. Abs my tongue salivated over. Totally your type.”

  My type. The confident jock. Suave.

  The womanizer whose girlfriend walks in on him with another woman—a whore—and the whore’s two friends.

  “Wait.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Abs? As in half-naked pictures of this Ryan guy?”

  “Yup. Won’t lure a lay off that site unless you post some good pics.”

  Good pics. “Oh, God. Please tell me you didn’t.”

  Gwen chewed the inside of her lip as her smirk faded.

  “Not spring break.” My voice escaped as a whine. “Please.”

  “I had to, Lia! You’re built like a brick shithouse, and that white bikini let it all hang out.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Exactly is right. Men love curves.”

  My glance skimmed over her short stature—the skinny ass in tight, black yoga pants. Okay. Not skinny ass, but skinny everything else. If only I’d been blessed with a smaller-than-sapling waist and perfect apple-sized breasts.

  My own melon-like girls jiggled as borderline manic laughter bubbled. “I can’t friggin’ believe you did this.”

  “I did it because I’m sick and tired of listening to you bawl every night.”

  My smile faded. So much for my private haven.

  Gwen straightened to her full, barely five-foot height. “You’re going to go lounge in that bubble bath I drew for you, shave your hairy-ass legs, suck down a glass or two of vino for liquid courage, and go out on a hot date.”

  Tears pricked my eyes. Perhaps it was time. I’d wasted two long years mourning the loss of what I had thought to be the perfect relationship. Some guy from a dating website would be a great first outing—one totally uninterested in getting inside a girl’s heart and mind.

  A safe, sure date that wouldn’t lead to love and heartache.

  “All right.” I dipped my head a single time in agreement. “I’ll go, but I’m not shaving my legs.”

  “What the hell?”

  “I’m not going to sleep with some guy I’ve only just met, and having hairy-ass legs will ensure I don’t.”

  “You’re gross.”

  “And you’re a bitch.”

  “So you’ve said. Now strip out of that god-awful pinstripe suit…skirt…thingy that looks like death on you, and get in the tub.” Gwen peered at the clock on the wall. “You’ve got less than two hours.”

  ****

  I dabbed on my favorite red lipstick and went back out to the living room.

  Gwen looked up from her laptop, her dark eyebrows marred by a frown. “Where’s the black dress I laid out for you?”

  “The one that leaves nothing to the imagination?”

  “Yup.”

  I peered down at my ass-hugging jeans, the ones that made me feel skinny. Sexy. The ones which hid my unshaved legs. “Um…yeah. Didn’t feel like it.”

  “You’re meeting him at Valentino’s.”

  Shit. Valet-parking, tie-a-necessity Valentino’s. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

  “Throw on those red, bend-me-over-the-couch heels, and wear the low-cut silk shirt that matches. You’ll be good to go.”

  Stomach alighting like a million hummingbirds, I hurried to do as she said, grumbling the entire time.

  “Better?” I asked as I raced back, out of breath.

  One last perusal. “Take down your hair.”

  I untangled the clip holding my hair up, and my dark tresses tumbled in waves as I speared my fingers through it.

  Gwen’s hazel eyes twinkled. “You’re going to knock his socks off, and if he’s not going commando, his briefs too.”

  Shaking my head, I pulled on my wool peacoat against the cold, New England evening.

  “To you, my friend.” Gwen raised her wineglass as I moved toward the front door. “May his dick be as big as Mr. Pink, and may your screams be loud and—”

  “I told you, I have no plans of getting laid,” I said over my shoulder.

  She laughed. “Fine, then. Bring him back here…for me.”

  I slammed the door, thankful for the second glass of wine I’d guzzled while dressing.

  Three blocks.

  Only three blocks to Valentino’s, and my first date in over two years.

  End of sample chapter

  http://www.evernightpublishing.com/susceptible-to-him-by-lynn-burke