“I know.” She started to put her thumb to her luscious lips, then stopped herself and held his gaze. “I don’t want loud fake sex.”
She slid her key card in the slot. She held the door, staring at him, until he got his wits back from his dick—which was still in a stranglehold from the borrowed pants. It took a few seconds, but then he moved, following her into the room.
He stopped, watching her walk across the room, tossing her key card on the nightstand, kicking off her shoes with a sigh, tugging at something in her hair, which brought the whole mess tumbling down around her shoulders. She was taking a chance here, he realized. Letting herself do things that she wouldn’t normally do. Including him.
But so was he, wasn’t he? He was playing with fire—taking a chance that this nice girl might mean more to him than he could let go of at the end of the weekend.
She smiled at him, quizzically. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. We can play rummy. I’m not a total letch.”
“I am.” He moved then, reaching her in three steps, taking her in his arms, kissing those amazing lips.
She moaned, stroking his hair, his arms, touching him everywhere, at once, it seemed—and it felt great.
So he touched her back. He put his hands in her silky hair, ran his fingers through it, watched the colors flow in the light.
Kellie stroked her fingers over his shoulders, tracing the lines of his collarbones and tugging at the fabric of his nearly nonexistent undershirt, pulling it from his waistband and then running her hands underneath and up, stroking over his stomach and ribs, across his chest, teasing his nipples and drawing a gasp from him.
He grabbed her arms. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want you to regret this—what happens in Vegas…”
She smiled. “I think my biggest regret would be going home without doing this. As long as you want…” Her eyes grew round and she backed away. “Do you want—?”
Great. Now he was coming across as an idiot. “I don’t know. I’m feeling awfully sweet and heroic,” he told her. “Maybe we should just snuggle.”
She snorted, and the awkward moment was broken. Putting one pink-tipped finger to her lips, she pondered this, then said, “Well, okay, but I think we need to get Toby’s pants off of you. In case, you know, he needs them back soon.”
Okay. Yeah. He was practically trembling with need. His fingers were about three hundred feet in diameter, fumbling with his pants.
She reached out and slid her fingers between his belly and the waistband, working at the button. The damned pants were getting more uncomfortable by the second.
“Gosh,” she said. “This is kind of hard. I think I need a closer look.”
Quinn groaned when she dropped to her knees and bent forward to kiss his stomach. Her lips were too much—and not enough. When the button finally popped free, she slid her fingers in deeper, between the zipper and his boxer briefs.
Her fingers brushed his aching cock when she pulled the tab of the zipper down. As the leather loosened, she stroked, and had him free of the pants in seconds. He didn’t think being surrounded by her hand and his underwear could feel better, until she pulled the fabric away and surrounded him with her lips. Okay. Now it was too much. He needed more.
Oh, fuck. His head fell back.
The power and wet heat of her mouth was doubled by the look in her eyes as she took him in. She licked around the head at first, then pulled him in farther, surrounding the shaft with her hand, tugging his jeans down with her other hand before coming back up to stroke his balls, which were already growing tight.
He took a long, selfish minute to feel the slick movement of her mouth over him, listen to the little sounds she made, and to stroke that gorgeous hair some more, but then couldn’t stand the thought of not touching—and tasting—the rest of her.
“Okay, whoa.” He moved back, reluctantly, and took her hands. “I gotta get you naked, sugar.”
Mouth red and wet, eyes huge and shiny, pupils enormous, Kellie just nodded.
After allowing him to help her to her feet, she stepped back and pulled her dress up and over her head.
He didn’t think he could have been any more aroused, but when he saw what was under that white dress, Quinn nearly passed out from the blood that rushed from his brain to his dick.
…
Maybe Kellie should have let Quinn take off her dress slowly. In the dark and under the covers.
Because after she whipped off her dress, he just stood there, expressionless, for the longest moment of her life.
She looked down, self-consciously exposed. But she’d been too into what she’d been doing, enjoying the taste and textures of pleasing Quinn, the rasp of his breath. She’d been so turned on that when he said he wanted her naked, she hadn’t thought about it, she’d just yanked off the dress. Was he shocked? “It’s a white dress. Everything I have shows through white.”
“You’re really, really naked.” He came toward her.
As he reached her and put a hand on each side of her waist, his penis brushed her tummy. When he drew her against him, she felt his thighs against hers, her breasts pressed against his rib cage, and his testicles nestle against her, that hard cock imprinting her skin.
She felt it all, because she hadn’t worn any underwear.
He bent his head toward her, and just before he kissed her, said, “You’re so fucking hot, I could come just looking at you.”
It wasn’t the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her, but it turned her on more than anything ever had because it was real, basic. She met his kiss with her lips and tongue and tried everything short of superglue to get her skin closer to his.
They found their way to the bed and Quinn fell back, pulling her down on top of him, then rolling her over. He ran a hand along her side, up and down, from her hip to her rib cage, not going any higher.
She squirmed, her breast aching for his touch. Her nipples were swollen, begging for his attention. Finally, finally, he swept his hand forward and cupped her, thumbing her nipple, then bending his head to take it into his mouth and sucking. Hard.
For the first time in her life, Kellie was glad she wasn’t skinny, because Quinn couldn’t seem to stop touching her, squeezing her, stroking her everywhere. Except where she needed him most.
“Quinn, my lady parts are feeling neglected,” she finally gasped. “Please, can we—”
He laughed against her breast and raised his head, quirking a brow. “Your lady parts?”
She shoved at his shoulder, affronted. “You know what I mean. Please—”
He ran a hand along the divide between her legs from her knees upward, stopping just short of touching her there. “You mean your garden of delights?” He kissed her. “Your love shack?”
“Quinn…” She parted her legs, in no mood for teasing, about to die of arousal.
“Your lotus of love?”
She laughed, and he finally touched her, slipping his fingers against her folds, easing the throbbing by creating a new tension.
“I got that from Her Shanghai Prince. Do you prefer purple passion petals?” he murmured against her lips, tracing his fingers around her, soothing and arousing at the same time.
“Purple?” she breathed. “That sounds dangerous.”
“I read that in Love’s Greatest Heartache.” He tilted his head at the nightstand, where a pile of classic historical romances had landed.
He left her mouth and kissed down the center of her chest.
“You read a lot of romance?”
“Research,” he said. “I took a couple home with me this morning.” Then he tongued her stomach, trailing over her belly button, dropping kisses until he was poised between her legs. “There’s purple, pink, rose, dusky rose, flushed red…”
“Quinn…” Kellie could barely breathe, he was so hot and large, holding her thighs apart and staring down at her body.
“But you? You’re definitely hot pink,” he confirmed, grinning
up at her. “And your pleasure bud is calling my name.”
“Quinnnnn…” She thrashed under his weight, while he kept her legs apart.
“I got you, babe.” And he did. He covered her with his mouth and licked along her entrance, up to her clitoris. Hands stroking over her thighs, he worked her with his tongue.
Between the raspy texture of beard stubble and focused attention of slick lips and tongue, she filled with tension, tighter, and tighter, and the heat built.
“Quinn, oh my gosh, Quinn,” she panted. Hands in his hair, she tugged at his head, needing him to stop, terrified he wouldn’t. As she shattered, he continued to stroke her with his tongue, and his hands moved on her thighs, easing her body.
She missed his touch when he moved away, but after a moment he rose above her, standing and pulling her toward the edge of the mattress. He placed the condom-covered head of his erection at her still pulsing entrance, and in one smooth move, entered her, filling her completely.
“Omigod, omigod,” she chanted, as he began to thrust. He put one hand under her backside, tilting her pelvis so that he rocked against a spot inside that felt so good, the orgasm that had ebbed rebuilt into something new, deeper, tighter, pleasure that made her heart beat so hard she thought it might stop.
He hovered over her and pinned one of her legs with his hand so that she was unable to move her hips. Restricting her movement—which made his thrusts that much more intense.
Her hands were free, and she stroked his chest and stomach, reveling in the way his muscles flexed under her fingers.
As the level of her pleasure evened out, she was able to watch him, see his face. His eyes were closed and he bit his lip as a drop of sweat slid from beneath his hair over his sharp cheekbone.
The naked power in his expression was one she’d keep with her long after she left this town, one she’d pull out late at night to remember and savor.
Opening his eyes, his stare said he knew this, was going to give her even more. He slid one hand toward where their bodies met and began to stroke her clit again, but it was too much and she shoved his hand away.
“You. I want you to come now,” she said.
He paused slightly, then he smiled, and said, “I can do that.” As his pace increased, he lost some of his rhythm, and when his mouth dropped open to groan out his pleasure, Kellie came again anyway, just little pulses this time, so she was able to feel him grow inside her and throb, and hold on to him when he collapsed over her.
Oh dear. Although her imaginary hero Zeus was pretty amazing, he wasn’t nearly as incredible as Quinn.
She realized she might just have put more on the table than she could afford to lose.
Chapter Ten
“Hello?”
Quinn’s voice was groggy, and he spoke softly, but Kellie must have been primed to respond to the vibrations he emitted, because she was fully awake by the time the voice on the other end of the phone squawked.
“What the hell is this?” it shrieked.
“Hi, Ma,” he said, rolling to his side and reaching a long, tattooed arm out to pull Kellie toward him. He was warm and smelled like sex and sleep. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”
She wanted to rub her face against him, to get more of his scent all over herself, but then his mother spoke again, her voice as clear as if she were on speaker.
“Everything is not okay. I suppose you have yet to see this morning’s webisode of So Very Vegas.”
“No, can’t say that I have.” He tucked his head down enough to roll his eyes at Kellie, then stroke her hair. He slid a foot between hers, nudging her with his knee.
She relaxed her thighs, allowing him to tangle his legs with hers and pull her hips closer. She already felt her body softening and yearning toward his. Amazing, considering they’d had sex for hours last night. After that first fast and hard round, there had been another, longer, slower bout that wore them both out.
But unlike last night, she felt the clock on their little love affair ticking. If he was going to disappear into the sunset—or sunrise, as it were—she was going to make sure she had as many memories of him as she could make.
She reached toward him, stroking down his bare chest, to the boxer briefs he’d put back on sometime in the night. He was hard, the head of his penis stretching the fabric forward, a little damp spot already showing her how much he wanted her again.
“Well, you might want to take a look, because your father is not too happy right now. I thought you’d want to know before you got here for dinner today.”
“Okay.” He winced.
“You forgot?” Kellie mouthed.
He nodded.
“Damn it, Quinn, the last thing this we need is for you to shame this family by being photographed dancing—or whatever it was you were doing—with a stripper!”
“What?” Quinn rolled away, just as she pulled her hand back and sat up.
“Why does everyone think I’m a stripper?” she asked without thinking.
“Seriously Quinn? She’s there right now? You should know better!” His mother’s voice had gone up a few decibels. Brae would be calling to complain about the noise soon.
“She’s not a stripper,” Quinn ground out.
“Is she a prostitute? Oh Lord, son. I don’t care if it is technically legal, it’s still immoral. Get her out of there before—”
“She’s a children’s bookstore owner.”
“Of course she is,” his mother sneered across the line. “I’m sure she’s a very respectable girl.”
He took the phone away from his mouth and looked at Kellie. “You got plans for dinner?”
The light in the room dimmed, and she got a slight case of tunnel vision. “Am I coming to meet your folks?”
He grinned and turned back to the phone.
“Yay.” She hoped he detected the lack of enthusiasm in her voice.
His mother was still yammering into the phone, something about the neighbors and his grandmother.
“Hey, Ma!” He interrupted her tirade. “Set an extra place for dinner. I’m bringing my girl.”
There was a gasp, but no comment.
Kellie couldn’t have spoken, either. It sounded so different when he said my girl—like that—than when she’d introduced him as her boyfriend to Brae. Maybe because it felt like he meant it more now than she had two days ago.
“Mom? You still there?”
This time Kellie couldn’t overhear her response.
“Yeah. Her name’s Kellie. Yes. Children’s books. Like a librarian, yes. Practically a Sunday school teacher. You can ask her all about it when you meet her, okay? Okay.”
By the time Quinn disconnected the phone and put it back on the nightstand, Kellie had managed to compose her features out of the shape of omigod he called me his girl to his mom and back into two-night stand sex kitten—or at least she hoped so.
He didn’t quite meet her eyes at first—but then he did. Shrugging, he spoke around the elephant that had just appeared in the room. “I know you’re leaving soon, but you’re my girl this weekend, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Was she ever. And she pulled him back down so that he was lying beside her again. “And as your girl, I have certain rights. One of those is to trace every one of your tattoos. With my tongue.”
…
“What time is dinner at your parents?” Kellie asked, as Quinn kissed the line of her spine, from the back of her neck down. God, he could spend the rest of his life in this bed and not get enough of her. He veered to the left to sink his teeth into her left butt cheek.
“Ow!” She turned over and swatted at him, laughing, and he tried to redirect his mouth toward her crotch, but she squirmed away, pulling the sheet over herself.
“Don’t be modest now, sugar. I’ve seen it all.”
“I’m protecting you from distractions. I asked you a question.”
“Umm…”
“What time is dinner?” she repeated. “Or more importan
tly, what time do we have to be ready to leave here?”
“Oh.” He looked at the clock. “Well, it’s more of a late lunch thing than dinner. But we’ve got another half hour. Come here.” He tried to drag her back toward him, but she was out of the bed in half of an instant, slamming the bathroom door behind her. “Where are you going?”
“Half an hour?” she shrieked. “It takes me forty minutes to blow dry my hair!”
“It’ll dry on the way…it’s a twenty-minute ride on my bike—it’ll be dry before we hit the city limits.”
The bathroom door opened slowly, and she stuck her head out. “Your bike?”
“How else we gonna get there?” He laid back, arms behind his head.
“My rental?”
“No way am I riding up to my folks’ house in that.”
She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip. Seeming to come to some sort of conclusion, she nodded slowly. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle. If I fall off and die, will you call my mom and tell her my last words were about her, even if they weren’t?”
“You’re not gonna die.”
“Promise?” She seemed to be asking about something more than the drive over.
“Cross my heart.”
She stared at him for another beat, probably remembering that they’d met when he’d run his bike into the back end of her car less than two days go, but she finally pulled her head back into the bathroom and shut the door.
With Kellie on the back of his bike, he’d be more careful than he’d ever been before. He couldn’t promise she’d survive meeting his family, however.
He felt guilty for insisting that she accompany him—he wanted to take her partly as a buffer—but with company, there might be less drama than usual. He also wanted his family to see that he could attract a perfectly lovely woman who didn’t mind that he was a bike mechanic.
As Quinn zipped his pants—his own pants—someone knocked on the door.
He peered through the hole in the door, and then opened it to admit Brae, who breezed in as though she’d spent the night in a spa, not passed out drunk in bed.
“Well. Good morning, handsome.” She trailed her skinny fingers across his chest as she passed. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Accidentally in Love With the Biker (What Happens in Vegas) Page 8