Sweet Spot

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by Monroe, Evie


  “You okay?” I asked when I noticed she was wincing.

  “I have a blister,” she admitted, pointing to her foot. “My boots are too tight.”

  My eyes scanned down her phenomenal legs, stopping at her boots. Sexy boots. We didn’t get too many girls going cowgirl around here in the bay, but I had to say, I had a thing for it. “Yeah? Come here.”

  I took her hand and led her to a window seat in the front of the bar, away from the noise. I sat her down and knelt in front of her, motioning to her foot. Shyly, she lifted it onto my knee, and I pulled the boot off. Her leg was perfectly shaped. My fingers trailed down the skin of her calf. I wanted to taste her skin unlike anything I’d ever wanted before.

  Controlling myself, I tilted my head to look at the blister on her heel.

  “I’m surprised you’re still upright, Cait. That’s a big one. And it burst.”

  She clenched her teeth. “No wonder it hurts like a mother.”

  I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out a little tube of antiseptic gel and a bandage. As I squeezed the clear gel directly onto the red skin of her heel, she gave me a confused look. “Were you a boy scout, growing up?”

  I carefully applied the bandage, trying to concentrate on the injury and not the clear view I had up her tiny denim skirt, past her milky thighs, to her pale pink thong. I helped her slip her boot back onto her tiny foot and stood her up.

  “That’s so much better,” she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. “It hardly hurts at all! That’s like a miracle. Thanks. Are you sure you’re not a boy scout?”

  I shook my head. “You asked me what I did before. I’m a doctor.”

  She rolled her eyes, which was the look I got from most people when I told them that. “Right. Where?” she challenged.

  “I never finished my residency. Mostly I work at the garage. Fixing cars. And you thought you didn’t have direction in your life.”

  She laughed. I don’t think she believed me. “Are you going to give me a bill, then, Dr. Drake, for your services?” she teased.

  “That one’s free. But next time, I don’t come cheap.”

  She smiled. Damn, she was sweet, smelled good, looked even better . . . this girl was a wet dream come true. “Well, I’ll be sure not to hurt myself too much in your presence.”

  Just then, a couple of guys at the bar started to get into a screaming match, and a glass shattered. People began to cheer wildly. It wasn’t unusual for a bar fight to break out at The Wall. Sometimes, the entire place would erupt in a brawl. It was just the way The Wall ended on Saturday evenings.

  “Yeah, well . . . this isn’t the place to be if you want to be safe, girl,” I said, skirting her away as someone from the crowd nearly staggered backwards into her. “So, this your first time here? It gets kind of crazy on the weekend.”

  She nodded and raised her voice over the noise. “Hope it’s not my last. But it is getting a little rowdy in here. Where do you think we should go, then?”

  Holy shit. I just stared at her. She wanted to leave with me. With me.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You want to go?”

  She nodded. “That okay?”

  “Hell, yes, it’s okay. But . . . did you come here alone?”

  She shook her head and pointed toward the bar. “I came with my best friend Martie.” She stood up on her tip-toes to look over the heads of the people in the crowd. “Oh. She’s gone. You may have seen her. Blonde?”

  “No.” The only woman I’d seen that had had any impression on me tonight had been Cait.

  “She was making out with a guy pretty hot and heavy a moment ago. They must have left together.” She shrugged and looked at me expectantly. “So . . . do you have your bike here?”

  “Of course. Never leave home without it.”

  She tightened her hand around mine. “Good. Take me for a ride, then, doctor.”

  Yeah. Fuck yeah. I was powerless to do anything but what she asked of me. “You like bikes?”

  She nodded. “They kind of turn me on,” she said with an innocent flicker of her eyelashes. “Especially when I get to ride behind a hot biker, who’s also an MD. When will I ever get that chance again?”

  HOLY fuck. This girl was unbelievable.

  I looked around, spotting Jet in front of the jukebox where I’d left him, flanked by two of the college girls. He was right; they were too easy. Hot, but nothing special, compared to what I had next to me. Fuck, I’d never thought I’d see the day when I got the girl, and Jet Nash settled.

  But now, he was second. I was going home with his first choice, and easily the hottest girl in the place.

  I couldn’t count how many times I’d watched Jet go off with some gorgeous woman. I couldn’t resist the chance to rub it in his face a little. The fight that was shaping up had settled down for the moment. I took Cait’s hand and led her through the bar, then clapped Jet on the back. “We’re heading out,” I said.

  His eyes scanned over me, landing on Cait. He grinned and gave me a fist bump. “You son of a bitch,” he whispered in my ear. “Stealing my girl. You should be glad I didn’t pour all my charm on her.”

  Right. Whatever, Jet. “I’ll see you,” I told him.

  I didn’t see Avery as I walked with Cait, plastered to my side, toward the exit. She’d probably found somebody else, too. But I sure as hell saw a lot of other men, glaring at me, wanting to be right where I was.

  Tonight, for once, I was the one living the charmed life. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it.

  Chapter Six

  Caitlyn

  Maybe I wasn’t drunk enough.

  Or maybe I wasn’t used to this. Picking up a strange guy at a bar for the sole intent of sex. Oh, if Daddy could see me now . . .

  He wouldn’t kill me. But he could kill. He’d brought my mom within an inch of her life, at least a few times that I knew of.

  I forced my dad out of my head as I walked outside with Drake’s big form hovering over me. I liked it. Liked being his girl, if only for one night. I felt feverish and excited and alive. Like I never wanted the night to end.

  I could tell Drake wasn’t one to talk much. He led me out to a line of bikes and pointed out a bike between two Harleys. “Hop on.”

  “Triumph, huh?” I said. It was a pretty sweet bike. My father and most of Hell’s Fury were Harley men. I liked the difference already.

  “Yeah.”

  I hopped on the back. There was no way to ride without my denim skirt riding up my hips, showing my panties. His eyes were fastened between my legs as he strapped on his helmet. He grabbed the handlebars and threw his leg over the seat and steadied the bike as I wrapped my arms around his slim waist, feeling the tight muscles of his abdomen underneath his t-shirt. I couldn’t wait to get a better look at that.

  “Where to?”

  “Your place,” I said.

  There wasn’t any other choice.

  He started the engine and it roared to life, vibrating through every part of me.

  I’d been on bikes pretty much all my life. I must’ve been my daddy’s daughter because there was something so wickedly exciting about the machine, purring between my legs. It turned me on like crazy.

  Not like I needed help with that right now. What turned me on most was this package of muscle in front of me. The more I wrapped my arms around him, the more I became convinced there wasn’t a single soft spot to the man. He was so built, I could barely get my arms around him. And he smelled good . . . not like my father . . . like soap and some kind of wickedly masculine aftershave that had me wanting to lick the side of his neck.

  Mr. MD.

  Mr. Fucking MD Motorcycle Badass, so hot and dark and dangerous, that I felt as giddy as a little kid, about to unwrap an ice cream on a hot day.

  He had to be pulling my leg with the doctor stuff. I’d heard of McDreamy, but this man brought the irreverent doctor cliché to a whole other level. He clearly wasn’t stupid. And he did have damn near a wh
ole first aid kit in his pocket.

  And then, there was a way he carried himself, like he knew more than everyone in the room. He’d definitely gotten my attention. Not to mention that he was hot as fuck.

  We soared out onto the road, and all I could think was that I’d gotten what I wanted, the second I’d gone inside. That this hot guy would be fucking me by night’s end. I shivered with excitement at the thought.

  Oh, my daddy would love that.

  Try as he had, my father hadn’t succeeded in keeping me a saint. I was far from a virgin. I think it was my dad’s constant wanting to keep me under his thumb that had given rise to my rebellious streak. That, and the fact that I was always around testosterone-filled guys who’d do anything for a hot piece of ass.

  And to be honest, I was a hot as fuck piece of ass. Thanks to my mom’s good looks.

  I’d lost my virginity to a member of the club when I was fifteen and he was twenty-two. It was perfectly fine, not very memorable, though we did end up having sex a few more times. Eventually I thought of him as my boyfriend, even though we never went out or dated like normal boyfriends and girlfriends do. We couldn’t for obvious reasons. Then my father found out, and the guy was never seen in Aveline Bay again. People joked around that Slade had had him killed, and my daddy did nothing to dispel that rumor.

  After that, I’d been careful about the guys I slept with. Most of them were from school or Enterlease Car Rental . . . clean cut, well-mannered, perfectly sweet guys who I kept at arm’s length, so I could make sure they wouldn’t ever cross paths with my dad. There was never any spark, so they were never in danger of getting too close.

  But I had to admit, there was something hot about a guy on a bike.

  Sparks went off all over me, so much so that I could barely breathe in the cool night air as we soared down the street.

  My hair flew out like a kite tail as I pressed my cheek against his broad back. He was only wearing a t-shirt, so I could feel the heat of his body through the thin cotton. He smelled amazing and had my senses on overload. I pressed my tits up against him and spread my legs to not allow for any space between us. The vibrations of the bike were about to make me come on the spot, so I squeezed his thighs between mine.

  I was in heaven.

  We ended up driving south, past my car rental building, a one-story shithole right on the highway. His apartment was a short ride past that, at a dingy building on the South side of Aveline Bay. It wasn’t anything to write home about. He sailed into a parking space, twisted the key in his ignition and slid off the bike, and he offered his hand to help me slide off after him.

  “What’s your story, Cait?” he asked me as we walked up a flight of stairs. “Besides working a job you hate and all that shit? Why have I never seen you at The Wall before?”

  He opened the door and invited me into his place. I shrugged as I stepped inside. “I have a warden who doesn’t often let me out.”

  “Warden?” he started. “Boyfriend?”

  “Dad,” I said.

  “Ah. So you still live at home? What are you, a boomerang kid?”

  I nodded my lie. Not exactly, since I’d never been able to leave and doubted I ever would.

  He walked in behind me and threw his helmet down on a recliner, then turned on a light.

  The place was not exactly the sparsely furnished bachelor pad I was expecting. He had art on the walls . . . real art, not framed posters or anything. No family photos, though. And though the place was sparsely furnished, it was clean. The furniture was modern and basic, all lines and angles. The only thing that was slightly messy was a giant floor-to-ceiling bookcase that took up an entire wall. I walked over and inspected some of the spines. Anatomy, Physiology, and Biology textbooks, as well as some really dry-sounding history titles. European Hegemony in the Early Eighteenth Century?

  Dr. Drake was a closet nerd.

  “Hmm, maybe you are a real doctor,” I said, turning on him to catch him staring at me, his eyes penetrating me like he had X-ray vision.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You thought I was lying so I could pick you up?”

  I smiled. Like he’d need help. Doctor or not, the second I laid eyes on him, I was his.

  “Beer?” he said, going into the galley kitchen, which had a pass-through into the living room area. I nodded, and he reached into the fridge, pulling out two beers. He twisted the caps and slid one across to me.

  I perched on a bar stool and took a swig.

  He took a long gulp of his beer, his hair falling in his face. He swept it back and I caught his eyes as he regarded me with a narrow beam of suspicion. In this light, I could see yellow flecks in the warm honey amber. I could stare into them all day, just pulling out new colors. They took my breath away. “So really, who are you?” he asked me again.

  He was scrutinizing me. I bet very little got past him. My stomach dropped, and I averted his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Because most girls don’t know a Triumph from a Harley, especially in the dark. You like bikes?”

  I shrugged. “I do. I grew up with a bunch of mechanics. Fixing them and stuff.” I looked around, desperate to change the subject, lest he start asking about my dad and bring our conversation to a thudding halt. “What about you? You and blondie part of a club around here?”

  He scrubbed his hand over his chin. “Nope.”

  Well, thank God for that. “Why not?”

  “What do you mean, why not?” He drained his beer with another gulp and motioned to a curtained window. “It’s hot in here. Let’s go outside.”

  Was it me, or was he trying to change the subject as well?

  He pulled the curtain open and yanked on a sliding glass door that kept getting stuck before he managed to open it. He motioned for me to step through first, so I did.

  I finally saw the allure of this place. The apartment may have been small, but the balcony was on a cliff-side, overlooking the rest of Aveline Bay, with the Pacific glittering in the distance under a full moon. The whole balcony looked like a small living room, filled with decorative outdoor furniture. I bet he spent a lot of time out here. I leaned over the railing and sighed. “Nice.”

  “Not as nice as what’s right here,” he said, slipping a hand around my waist and turning me to him.

  I felt the first flash of nervousness skittering down my spine. It occurred to me that although I knew how to flirt and drive guys wild, I didn’t know what to do past that. Because of Slade, few guys ever got that far. It’d been a long time since I’d taken a guy home, and an even longer time since I’d met a guy who actually made my heart beat like this.

  He took the beer from my hand and set it down on one of the outdoor tables. His eyes scanning me as if determining which part of me he wanted to devour first. He reached out and brushed a hair from my shoulder.

  That simple touch, barely a breath, made sparks light between us. I felt the calluses on his palm, each of them branding my skin. My heart pounded with anticipation. I licked my lips, and he zeroed in on the gesture, his eyes dark with want.

  “You’re a real pretty thing, Cait,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Almost too pretty to ruin.”

  He leaned closer, so close that I couldn’t mistake his intention. He gave me a second to say no, that I didn’t want this, but I did want it. “You can’t ruin me any more than I already am,” I murmured, my lips so close to his.

  I closed the distance easily and crashed into his mouth.

  Light and heat sparked all over my body. His lips were soft, but his kisses were anything but. Tangling his hand in my hair, he tipped my head back further and took my mouth, no hesitation at all. I tried to gasp, but he caught the gasp as he held me still for his onslaught. My entire body went weak.

  He kissed like a fucking badass.

  My body responded, instantly, all-in. I pulled myself against him, and he groaned low in his throat. I could feel his hardness through his jeans, against my abdomen. It encouraged me. I stroked his cheeks,
ran my hands down his chest, and he retaliated by thrusting his tongue inside my mouth. My nipples hardened under my camisole and I let out a moan. Hearing that, he laughed a little in his throat. His arms slid around my ass, pulling me toward him as his fingers dug under the fabric of my skirt, finding the edge of my panties.

  “You call this underwear?” he growled into my mouth.

  “What . . .” I began, but before I could say more, he showed me what he meant by hooking one finger under the string that flossed my ass and tearing it free. I gasped as the cool air found its way under my short skirt, my bare lower half.

  He lifted it up between us on his finger. “Might as well wear nothing.” He gave it a gentle yank and the delicate lace gave way.

  “Well now I am wearing nothing, thanks to you.”

  “You will be thanking me, baby. I promise you that.”

  Oh, fuck.

  He dropped my panties to the floor and reached around my back, squeezing my bare ass with both hands. I opened my mouth, hoping to reply with something witty, but it all got lost when his fingers slipped inside the crack of my ass.

  I wiggled at first and my eyes widened in surprise when he touched my asshole, tickling me. He rounded it a couple times, until the tickle became arousal. Then he slipped a finger inside my pussy.

  I was almost embarrassed at how wet I was, how it was running down my thighs. The bashfulness didn’t last though. By the time he added another finger, I was doubled over, moaning, spreading my legs to give him better access, wanting more, more, more. He held me there, his eyes locked on mine, pumping his fingers in and out of me, until I lost all reason and wobbled on my knees, rocking on his hand and begging him to go faster.

  His free finger traced to my mouth, resting on the pillow of my bottom lip, so I let my tongue slip out to taste it. Damn, he tasted good, like beer and tobacco with a little bit of toothpaste mixed in. He left his finger there, so I sucked it in, as he watched me, mesmerized, still pumping me from behind.

 

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