Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  "What?"

  They really should turn down the music in here.

  Blanche steps toward Hunter, placing a hand on the tight shirt spanning his chest. She pulls on the jersey fabric, trying to get him to tilt his head lower. And succeeds. "I have to let my friends know that I'm leaving," she shouts in his ear.

  She doesn't wait for him to answer. He tugs her back, but when she glances over her shoulder again, he releases a huff, shakes his head and steps forward with her. They find Trisha grinding against Troy on the dance floor. Trisha's lips pull up in the corners when she sees Blanche. The smile widens even more when she spots the tall, all-male powerhouse behind her friend.

  If it isn't so dark in the club, Trisha would be able to see her friend blush. Blanche lets go of Hunter's hand when Trisha starts dancing provocatively toward her way.

  "I'm leaving!" Blanche yells, tilting her head forward, a hand on one side of her mouth. Trisha slides both her arms over her shoulders, and repeats the same dance routine she's seen her friend do with Troy.

  Trisha throws her head back and laughs heartily. "Of course you are!" Then, she gives her a tight hug. "Have a great time. You deserve it." Trisha glances at the hunky man's direction. "Damn, girl! I'm so freaking proud of you. You have your phone?"

  In reality, it is code between two friends. Is Blanche sure of her decision? Does she feel safe? Both questions are answered by a nod. "I won't wait up!" she tells Bee, trusting her friend's intuition, and remembering all the classes Bee has taken in self-defense when she first came into the city. Trisha slips the strap of a small clutch around Bee’s wrist.

  With another squeeze and a quick peck on Blanche's cheek, Trisha lets her go. She waves her fingers at the stranger standing tersely, trying to keep distance from the rest of the dancers. The man doesn't wave back, seemingly perturbed by all the movements around him. Blanche feels the heat of his large hand as he places it on the small of her back, leading her out the bar.

  Thankful for the three drinks she had earlier, Blanche's heart doesn't flip as much as soon as they hit the pavement. But she does feel a tickle in the back of her throat. Is she about to hurl in front of this mysterious, handsome stranger? With a deep inhale, the scent of the big city filters through her nostrils. Despite the unpleasant smell, it calms her jitters. She watches Hunter nod at the bouncer, and the man nods back. Hunter points at something in the far distance. The bouncer looks toward the direction, and then nods at Hunter again.

  Men are weird, she thinks inwardly, amazed at how men can communicate without words, although, Hunter doesn’t appear to be the overly talkative type.

  "My place is a couple of blocks away," Hunter informs her, carefully directing her across the street. The confident man has turned into quite an unexpectedly gentle man.

  "Oh, your place." Blanche didn't even think about it. She is not the type of girl to pick up a boy—correction—a man at a bar. Much less someone as hot and huge, in more ways than one—judging by what she has felt earlier when she came out of the bathroom—as her new companion. Her panties are still a little damp from their make out session.

  Stopping after a few steps, Hunter faces her and tilts his head down to her. This close to her outside the club, he seems even bigger. Completely menacing. "Is that okay?"

  She nods. "Yup." And bites her bottom lip, unsure of what else to say. "Uh-huh."

  Hunter brushes his hand over his short hair. His thick forearm muscles ripple under his inked skin. Is he deliberating on his next move? Will he change his mind? "Are you sure? You can go back in. No hard feelings." He raises his hands up, thick fingers splayed.

  Blanche pales as she shakes her head. "Nope. I didn't change my mind. I need this." It’s more than what she meant to say. But it must have made sense to Hunter, because he doesn't ask any more questions. He takes Blanche by the hand, and walk-runs through different streets, until they're standing in front of a nondescript brownstone.

  Again, he faces her and asks, lightly squeezing her hand, "Are you sure? Cabs swing by here all the time if you want to change your mind."

  A light switches on. She finally understands what he's doing. Hunter is giving her a choice. She’s so used to people who orders her around that it takes her a while to realize when someone offers her freedom to think on her own. There is a surprise tightening in her chest as she appreciates his gesture.

  She presses her feet firmly on the ground and indignantly replies, "For the last time, yes." Although, since it is her, the inexperienced girl, she adds, "Unless you're an axe murderer?"

  Under the hazy lights of the street, he smiles at her—a schoolboy smile that makes her knees weak and her stomach warm—a reaction that she suspects he doesn't offer quite often to anyone. "There's only one way to find out." Hunter tightens his grip on her.

  Her stomach is a bundle of nerves as they ascend the few steps into the building, but there is no way in hell will she change her mind now.

  HIS KEY SLIDES IN THE lock of the black apartment door, but Hunter doesn't open it right away. He stares at Blanche for a while longer. The lights are brighter in the building’s hallway and she awes at the twinkle in his ice blue eyes. Her stomach does a somersault under his penetrating gaze. A gaze full of lust that she might come just by staring at it. Blanche clasps her clutch closer to her chest. Her heartbeat doubles when Hunter tenderly caresses her arm, up her shoulder, her neck, and stopping to cup the back of her head. His hand fists the ends of her hair, and the short length she has left tugs at the pressure. Then he claims her lips with fervor unlike she has ever known before.

  Hunter unabashedly devours her. There’s passion and hunger in every suck, nibble, and smack of his lips and teeth on hers. He nips at the skin of her exposed neck and flicks the tip of his tongue at the point of her throbbing pulse. With Hunter's other hand, he squeezes and cups her behind, and then pushes her entire body up against the hard planes of his. Automatically, she wraps her legs around his hips, and swings her arms around his neck, her wristlet hanging along his upper spine. The spikes of her borrowed heels dig into the taut flesh of his back.

  When Hunter carries her through the threshold and into his apartment, the rip of fabric breaks through the sounds of their excited moans and groans. The hand that was on the nape of her neck has found its way down her mid-spine, where Hunter starts tearing her shirt off. She's never been so turned on and—if she is honest to herself—a bit terrified at the same time.

  A voice in her head momentarily interrupts the blinding lust, You deserve it! She doesn't know if it's Trisha's voice or her own.

  Hunter does a 180, pressing her exposed back beside the door they have come through, and closes it with a nudge of his foot. His relentless kissing continues on her already swollen lips, neck and shoulders. Bee gives as much as she gets, taking the cue from Hunter.

  She feels coolness on her chest when Hunter pulls the flimsy jersey off her shoulders, and then discards it somewhere on the floor. Earlier, Trisha tried to convince her to skip wearing a bra. Blanche is a perfect A cup, and her friend suggests that no man would notice the lack of support, but she will appreciate the feeling of freedom. At the last minute, Bee ran back into her friend's apartment to put a bra on. If she went for braless, hardened nipples would immediately make everyone notice. Although the state of her sensitive tips is just one cause of what Hunter is doing it to her. He growls at her lips as his hand slides up, under the flimsy lace material, and pinches an already taut nipple. She digs her fingernails onto his shoulders. He works the clasp behind her and in no time, she is topless, open and ready for him.

  When he pulls his lips away from hers, she manages to take enough breath in and out before sucking it sharply between gritted teeth when he begins suckling on a breast. A bolt of electricity travels down to her heated core when Hunter's tongue flicks at a sensitive bud in his mouth, and then grazes it with his teeth. Warmth pervades her center, and pure lust causes her head to swim. Everything around them ceases to exist. It’s
only her and Hunter.

  She tightens her legs around Hunter’s waist as he lifts his hips up, letting Blanche feel the raging hard-on compressed in his jeans.

  He's much bigger than Perry. The sudden thought surprises her, making her chest constrict in pain. Blanche squeezes her eyes shut, trying to get the images of her ex out of her head.

  "Stop."

  "You want me to stop?" Hunter's deep, gravelly voice brings her back to the moment. She opens her eyes, and sees his chest rise and fall in rapid successions. The apartment has sparse street lighting coming through large windows but she could see the heat of his gaze, meant only for her.

  "What? No. Don't stop." Blanche presses her lips together, and then sucks in her bottom lip between white rows of teeth.

  Hunter knits his brows together. "You just told me to stop.” He sighs deeply, slowly, and licks his lips while he stares at her naked breasts. “We don't have to do anything you don't want to do." Despite the obvious desire, he’s serious. He will let her go if she decides to stop.

  Blanche adamantly shakes her head, releasing her bottom lip and letting the blood gush back into it. "Please. Don't stop. I didn't mean to say it." Her fingers crawl up his neck and brushes over his short hair

  Hunter exhales heavily again, nuzzles the crook of her neck, and whispers seductively, "I want you so fucking bad right now. If you tell me to stop again, I will. I'd probably explode, but I will stop."

  Her heart swells and she cannot help but smile at his honesty. Even though Hunter seems scary and dangerous, she's never felt more appreciated, and surprisingly safe, and these are enough for her at that moment. She arches her back off the wall, grinding herself against his restrained erection.

  Hunter moans at the sensation and presses his open mouth on her skin, nipping lightly before saying, "Fuck. Condom?"

  "My purse." She unzips her clutch to dig into the side pocket, where a few hours ago, Trisha stuffed a few foil packets, making sure she would be covered, in case something like what she's into right now happens. She laughed at her friend then, convinced that she wouldn’t end up back home, alone. But she is not laughing now.

  Hunter grins at her when she shows the foil packet and takes it between his teeth. He turns back around, and takes a few steps until they reach a leather couch. He lays her down on it, the coolness of the leather is welcomed by her warmed skin. She watches Hunter—posing a knee between her legs—straightens up, takes the condom from between his teeth, throws it down on the floor and then tugs off his shirt. The entire time his searing blue eyes are on hers.

  Blanche stifles a moan of appreciation at what she sees. His whole torso and his arms are covered in tattoos, but they don't distract her from the tones, the taut planes and hills of his muscles. Blanche tentatively touches the rings on his nipples. Hunter groans, but he does not rush her. He lets her explore him. With her index finger, she zigzags over the trail of dark hair down to the top of his jeans, and salivates at the size of the bulge underneath it. Then she traces a few of the thick and thin lines on his ripped abs.

  "Like what you see?" Hunter sounds proud, as he very well should be. "I've designed them all."

  It takes a moment for her to realize that he's talking about the tattoos. Smiling at the pride in his voice, she nods at him. She props her elbows beside her and pushes up to a sitting position, and then lowers her head to lick a line along his dark trail, and back up to the middle of his chest and down again, ending at his navel. His heated skin is salty on her tongue and he smells like what a real man should be, soapy clean, not with overbearing thousand-dollar-an ounce cologne.

  She feels him shudder. When she looks up into his eyes, all she can see is pure fiery lust. Even if she just strokes him up and down all through the night, it would be enough for her, though she doubts he’ll agree to that. Hunter is the personification of sex on thick, muscular legs.

  This is really happening, she readies herself as she unzips his jeans with trembling hands. She pulls down the elastic of his boxers, releasing the gift that she has been looking forward to enjoying.

  Chapter Three

  A loud gasp escapes her mouth when he springs out of his boxers and Hunter grins wickedly at that. He feels too heavy, too hard, too full, like he’s about to burst at any second now. It hasn’t stopped throbbing in his jeans since he pushed her against the wall. She doesn't touch him right away, not like the other women he’s been with before. They've always been cock hungry. Not her. Not Bee. Not this almost ethereal being in his presence. Her skin illuminates under the rays of the moon seeping through his windows. And he appreciates her tenderness, and marvels at her naïveté.

  "Can I touch you?" Her voice is quiet, unsure. Her head is lowered, and even though he can’t see her eyes, he knows that her gaze is on his engorged member.

  "Be my guest." She looks up to him and he lets the corners of his lips lift. Such fine beauty. Her large, engaging eyes symbolizes a bit of innocence. Hunter must remember to take it down a notch with her, lest he breaks her.

  Bee tentatively runs her thumb over his tip, covering her thumb with his slickness. Her eyes turn into round saucers. Then she sucks on the thumb she's touched him with, and moans.

  Holy hell, if that isn't the sexiest thing he's seen in a long time.

  She trails a finger over the line of hair on his stomach. Her pale finger is a stark contrast to the dark, short hair. As much as he can tell and feel, her skin is flawless and smooth, except for the tiny pink circles on her breasts. She tastes exquisite too. He intends to have quite a feast on her once she’s done exploring him.

  Bee wraps two hands over his length, pulling up and down, and gently twisting. The sensation fires up his gut, and makes him see stars behind closed lids. She’s full of surprises.

  When he first saw her in the bar, he didn't think he'd be the one to take her home. He didn’t think that she would go home with anyone really. Now on his couch, half naked, her torn shirt laying somewhere by the door, and her hands milking him, he's glad he has decided to take a risk and bring her to his apartment. How long has it been since he's brought a woman back? Hunter can't remember. He would always choose to go to the woman’s place and flee as soon as the deed was done. He can’t think of a reason why he’s offered Bee to come to his apartment, but his entire body appreciates that she’s here with him.

  With all that is going on at work and his personal life taking a nosedive, a real woman is what he needs. A soft, desirable woman with short, black hair, perky tits, unmarked skin, and lips made for kissing, and hopefully other things. Leaning an arm over the back of the couch, he juts his hips forward, and marvels at the luminescent skin. A beautiful canvas.

  "Hunter, can I taste you?" Her dulcet tones rings sweetly in his ears and her gaze penetrates him.

  It takes him a moment to remember that he has given her his first name, and not the one he's used to hearing. "Taste all you want..." He sucks in a sharp breath when she takes him in her warm mouth without even letting him finish his sentence.

  Maybe she is hungry after all. Well, lucky me, he mutters to himself, his hand gripping the cushion of the couch.

  Her red lips stretches around his girth, meeting the hand that's already wrapped around the base. She's trying to take him all in, but he knows she can't.

  But hell, she is determined.

  His eyes roll to the back of his head, as he feels himself reach the back of her throat and deeper still when she relaxes her muscles some more. Her other hand reaches underneath, cradling him, making his balls feel heavier than they usually are.

  "Holy fuck," he groans out, as she continues to suck, bringing him in and out of her mouth in a steady pace. "You'll have to stop before I..." His words are lost when she picks up the pace, and her lips and hands tighten around him. Her tongue licks around his tip inside his mouth.

  His hands tug at her short hair, producing a moan from her throat, and the vibration reverberates around his erection, up to his chest and shoots all the way
down his toes.

  "You have to stop, or this will end...too soon." Bee doesn't heed his words, instead, she quickens her pace again. "Bee. Fuck!" He feels his release building and there is no way he can stop it, not if she doesn't cease her delicious torture.

  She flicks a finger at the base of his dick, while she tightens her lips, her mouth around him, and that is his undoing. Hotness spurts out of him, spilling onto her tongue and down the back of her throat. He keeps her head steady with his hands, still trying to be careful not to pull too hard on her hair, as he throbs and twitches inside her mouth.

  A few seconds pass when he starts feeling sensations back on his toes, and up his shaky, hollow legs. Weakness overcomes him, but he can't give in. Looking back down at the surprisingly fiery and talented woman, Hunter feels himself harden again as she slowly pulls him out of her mouth, spit and cum trickling down her lip and chin.

  "You're so hot. That was amazing. But we're not done yet."

  Her eyes twinkle. Bee swipes the moisture on her chin and licks it off her thumb. "Really?” She gazes at him with her round eyes. “You're not...tired?" she asks quietly, almost shyly, forcing him to laugh.

  "No, Bee. Look." He watches her eyes nearly bulge when she witnesses him harden again. "Lie back." She complies.

  The skin around her areoles shines with sweat. Hunter teases her by nipping at her chest, her neck, and her pointed nipples. His hand quickly works the button and zip of her jeans, then starts pulling them down. He quirks his lips when he sees the black lace panties underneath, delicate with a little pink bow on the front. Once he tugs her jeans off her legs and feet, he fists the lace in his hand, forcing the delicate fabric to rip and tear.

  By the time he's done with her, she'll have nothing else to wear. But it doesn't seem to bother her one little bit, because just like him, she is consumed by him and the fireworks display that’s about to happen.

  As he continues to lap at her sensitive areolas, he caresses the insides of her legs. Silky smooth, just as he expected. Reaching the wet apex of her thighs, he flicks his thumb at the tiny bud above her slit. Her fingers fly onto his back and digs into his skin. All he can hear are her soft whimpers.