“Two hours.” I gasped. “But I didn’t tell Zayn I was leaving.”
“Naked, your bedroom, now.” He took his phone out and spoke a couple sentences to Zayn, I guessed.
I hurried to the bedroom before I shimmied out of my jeans and panties, and pushed my ass back toward him.
I heard him join me in the room. “Baby, you have a fine ass.” He caressed said ass. “We need to talk about your ass.”
I turned to him, unease skittering through my middle. “What?”
He shoved hands roughly through his hair. “I’m an ass man, Red, not that tits should be ignored.” He tucked the hair behind my ear with the trace of a smile. “I dream of my cock in your ass.” His voice scraped. “Eventually, ropes and ass, and then...”
He was swirling fire, blue and hot and I wanted to touch the flame, but did I dare? I didn’t know if I was brave enough.
“Oh.” I gulped, trying to gather my thoughts. I stepped away from him, needing distance, some room to think.
“It has to be right for both of us. Don’t agree unless you mean it.” Passion still burned but was restrained now.
“I didn’t say no.” I paced my bedroom, struggling with how to put my thoughts into words. I worried how he’d react to my answer. Gathering my courage, I stopped pacing.
“I need to think about it.”
Had I said no to him? What would happen now?
Dare moved toward me with slow steps, maybe this was the end.
He caressed my cheek. “Red, turn around.”
I shook my head.
“Red, now.”
I faced him to see warmth, not anger, in his expression.
“I’m a selfish bastard. Take your time, and if never is it—that’s fine with me. Your wildness drives me toward more and more. I want to do everything with you. You fucking top all my expectations.”
“Until now,” I whispered, trying to look away.
He held my chin firm. “Not even a bit. It’s a big step if you’ve never done it. Think it over, and see what feels right. No hurry. No pressure.”
I gulped, unable to believe he let me off the hook and made me feel like I’d chosen the right answer.
“Okay.” I adored him. He’d given me a real choice, not the fake choices leading to a single response.
I circled my arms around his shoulders. “Can I kiss you?”
His brow wrinkled in confusion, so I pressed my mouth to his. I didn’t have words for what filled me up, so I poured it into my kiss.
He stumbled back even as he grabbed me to him. Then he devoured me, catching me up and carrying me to the bed. Our lips never parted.
He laid me on the bed and smiled down at me. His fingers dancing across my skin, he slid my T up my torso then tugged it over my head. His mouth teased my breasts as he unclasped my bra, removing it.
“Hmm.” I raked him with my gaze. “How can you do this so slow? I want you now.”
He kissed my belly button. “Patience.”
With the lightest touch, he brushed his fingers down my stomach, and I bucked up my hips when his finger grazed my clit.
“Dare. When will you fuck me?”
He stood at the end of the bed and he stripped for me. The Harley shirt climbed his torso revealing abs, pecs, and it was gone. He winked before he kicked off his boots. He turned so his gorgeous back and ass faced me, Levis sliding over his defined ass and down his legs. Strong thighs met calves decorated with tattoos. Live free or die held dominion on his left calf.
He stalked to me with a hungry expression. “Now, Red. I’m gonna fuck you slow right now.” He moved onto the bed and knelt at my feet, then pulled me down toward him, lifting my legs up his torso.
True to his word, he made me scream his name more than once as I came for him. Yet he held control until the very end and we came together on my last orgasm. Panting, I couldn’t move, all my muscles had turned to goo. Eyelids heavy, I wanted to sleep, but it was the middle of the day, so I fought to stay awake.
He moved to the foot of the bed and dressed.
How much did he hide from me? What did he do in the club? The questions were never far from the front of my mind, no matter how I tried to banish them.
I sat on the bed’s edge and shoved my feet into my jeans legs and hopped up and down to haul them up.
“Cute dance,” his low voice teased.
“You coming by tonight?” When the words were out, I wished I could take them back. Definitely not a fuck-buddy question. At least I hadn’t asked what he liked for dinner. So far I’d kept from asking what his favorite foods were. I wanted to show my love—Not love, I chastised myself—by fixing what he liked best. Strange that even after the losers, I yearned to take care of others. Why hadn’t I learned my lesson?
While I beat myself up, he closed the distance. “What the hell’s going through your brain?” Humor tinged his words.
“What?”
“Everything you think plays across here.” He tapped my chin.
“Just thinking I’m bad at this fuck-buddy stuff.” I shrugged.
He laughed and I had to look up from my inspection of the floor.
“What?” I asked again.
“Red, you’re funny. You’re my girl for however long it works for us.”
I gaped at him. His girl? When had I shifted positions, and why hadn’t he asked me if I wanted to be his girl?
Who am I kidding? He had me wrapped around his pinkie.
Lila, you never learn.
“Am I good at that?” I hadn’t meant to ask that question either.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“Perfect. Too damn good for me.” His words held a tinge of regret.
My heart missed a beat, and I wished I could pepper him with questions about exactly what he meant. He moved toward the door, antsy now.
I wasn’t the only one a little freaked out by this thing between us.
* * *
I followed just a few minutes after Dare. Once I was back at the front counter, I realized he hadn’t answered my question about tonight. A heavy sigh didn’t get rid of the unease churning inside. It was getting complicated, and I loved every minute of it. I was destined to repeat my mistakes, or this time wasn’t a mistake.
Picking up the ringing phone, I said, “Marked Man.”
“It’s MJ. Can we chat about tomorrow?” Her words rushed into my ear.
I bet she talked in her sleep, filled with energy like hers. “Yeah, what can I do to help out?”
She chuckled in my ear. “I knew I liked you, girl. You like desserts or salads?”
“Desserts.” And I did. Baking was a luxury for me, one I rarely indulged in living alone.
“Music to my ears, girl. What can you bake up tonight? We got a hundred or so coming.”
Holy shit. I thought about what I had, and the biggest obstacle was baking dishes. If I did cakes and cobblers, then I could buy the tins at the store. MJ and I discussed logistics, and Dare’s favorites—apple pie and cheesecake. She ordered me to go with Zayn and have him pay for everything.
The clock read two thirty—no problem getting the desserts done, and a few dozen cookies. Cookies were always the right answer. I spent the next thirty minutes straightening up and finishing a bit of paperwork so I’d be ahead. A couple hours on Sunday, and I’d be done with the week’s tally.
“Ready to jet, Lila.” Zayn dangled car keys in his hand.
Shit. I’d planned to get him when I was ready. “Give me twenty to make a list of supplies.”
He grinned and nodded.
“Come upstairs with me,” I called over my shoulder as I opened the back door of the shop and headed up to my place.
I grabbed my cookbook and wrote furiously, doub
ling recipes in my head to figure out how much I needed of the different ingredients. Zayn ambled over, watching me.
“Cobbler is great.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“What’s your favorite dessert?” I kept writing.
“Red velvet cake, like my mama made, with that wonderful icing.” His words spoke of a specific memory.
“Got it. Red velvet is on the list.”
He whooped and then prowled my apartment. “Glad you got my old furniture.”
I nodded but bit my lip because I hadn’t completely made peace with Dare’s high-handedness. I focused on the list, scribbling down ingredients and amounts so I’d get enough of everything. I hated running to the store in the middle of baking.
“Ready to go,” I announced.
Zayn drove a classic ‘80s Monte Carlo to the local super mart so I could buy everything in one place. It took almost an hour to grab all the ingredients, and then I shopped the mixer isle. A stand mixer would be a luxury, but one that’d make this all easier. I found one on clearance and carried it to checkout while Zayn pushed the cart. At checkout, we fought over the mixer, but he bought it because MJ had said anything I needed. The man was stubborn when it came to his directions from the club.
Back home, I cranked the Chili Peppers and dove into my work. Once the apple cobblers baked in the oven, I made a sandwich and sat down for a few minutes. Six cakes and two pies down.
I stood, energized for my next baking binge when I heard a thud. Was that the door? I turned my music down and hurried to the door. I opened the door and smiled up at Dare.
“You’ve got flour on your nose, Red.”
I hurried to the music and turned it down before swiping at my nose, but I probably only smeared more across my face.
“Hey, handsome, fancy seeing you here.” I sashayed back across the floor to him.
His kiss was like a fresh breeze, and I wanted more and more. He drew me toward the bedroom, but I broke away. “Two minutes and I’ll be there.”
His eyes tracked me while I put the fruit and other perishables in the fridge.
“What the hell?”
“I’m making desserts for the party.”
He frowned at me. “MJ said she recruited you, but not that she’d dumped it all—”
“I volunteered. Baking relaxes me. And I don’t get to do it often.” And I’d hoped for MJ’s approval, maybe a little too much, so I’d overdone it. But, I did love to bake, and couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun.
The buzzer rang on my stove and I grabbed the two cobblers. “Now, we have an appointment, I believe.”
“You sure?” His frown hadn’t eased.
“Never more certain.” I tugged his hand and he followed me to bed.
He grabbed the ropes. “Undress and kneel. I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon.”
I scrambled out of my clothes, my panties already damp from seeing the black ropes, remembering the last time they covered me, and anticipating what new ecstasy he’d give me now. Once he’d tied me tight and positioned me with a pillow under my ass, he knelt on the bed above me. “I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked.”
And he kept his word. He wrung every ounce of emotion from me. Euphoria created a floating feeling of satisfaction. Every time he pushed my limits, still it surprised me that our no-holds-barred exchanges only made me want more. A fragile confidence blossomed. If I held my own with Dare, perhaps I could with anyone.
He undid two knots, and the ropes sprang loose. I wasn’t sure what surprised me most, the way the ropes enhanced my pleasure or how quickly he could release the knots, but I ate up every brush of his fingers as he unwound them.
Once free, we cuddled together, even though my mind returned to the kitchen and my baking. I stroked his hair with my nose buried in his neck, inhaling his masculine scent. His body relaxed into sleep. I’d become an expert at deciphering the change in him.
When I rolled away, he stirred and flipped onto his stomach. I stared at the complex maze of tats on his back while he slept. The center of the art spread low across his shoulders. The Jericho Brotherhood with his name below it—his christening. Above the Brotherhood stood a bound woman, tied with the same knot design he’d tied me with the first time.
Was she a past lover? It hurt to think about the question.
I shook my head and focused on his long lashes closed in sleep, telling myself to get back to baking, but I hated leaving his side.
I tiptoed to the door, closing it against the noise of the kitchen. I mixed up the cherry cobblers, crimping the edges of the dough. Once they hit the oven, I prepared the peach pies for baking, sitting them on my table until it was time for them. Icing came next on my list, and I decided to frost all the cakes, except Zayn’s red velvet, with chocolate icing.
“You do love this shit.”
I jumped with a squeak and hit myself in the forehead with a spatula covered in chocolate icing.
Smooth, Lila, real smooth.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on me.” I frowned at him, but the effect was lost with the icing on my forehead.
Chapter Eleven: Lila
Dare’s laugh filled the apartment, echoing off my walls. The sexy rumble lit me up like always. Relaxed with laughter, his face transformed, looking innocent and young. He lost the serious edges that warned everyone away.
I grabbed a towel to wipe the frosting off.
He closed the distance quickly, with his hand out. “Let me.”
I eyed him but handed over the towel. He bent and kissed the frosting from my brow. His tongue darted in quick licks over my forehead. My knees weakened and I grabbed the counter for support. Holy mother of sexy, his licks revved me up. He took his time with the licking kiss, but I didn’t complain. When he finished, he dabbed the spot with the towel.
“Good icing.” His lips claimed mine. He tasted of my chocolate icing, and that should be illegal.
“So are you.” The words didn’t even make sense. I scrubbed my face. “Food?”
“If you got leftovers.” He shrugged.
“I had a sandwich, you want one?” I already had my head in the fridge, grabbing ham, cheddar, mayo and veggies. “You like mayo and green pepper on your sandwich?”
“Make it like you make yours.”
I assembled his sandwich and he took it into the living room while I went back to icing cakes.
After he finished, Dare brought his plate to the kitchen sink and fiddled with my phone to start the music again. Turning, I bumped into him. My kitchen was tiny and a huge biker didn’t fit the space.
“I want the apple pie.” His words were gruff, but a shadow lurked in his eyes.
Did he think I’d say no? I never said no.
“Better make sure it’s good enough.” I winked and handed him a fork.
A smile spread across his face, and I thought it was what he looked like as a kid. He took his treasure to the kitchen table. Unable to resist, I grabbed my phone and snapped a picture. I’d taken a few photos but not nearly enough. It would be all I had when we’d run our course.
“You are a fucking genius.” His tone was reverent. “This is the best.”
After another hour of baking I was done with all the cakes and cobblers, and I quickly cleaned up. The great thing about having few dishes is clean-up is quick and continuous. No way to pile up dishes.
Dare wrapped his arms around me as I drained the dishwater. “Done, Red?”
“For now.” I leaned into him. “You got plans for me?”
He turned me around and pinned me with his gaze. “Want me to stay tonight? Then go out to the clubhouse later in the day.”
Why did he ask? He’d stayed before.
“Sure, anytime.” I leaned
forward on my toes to kiss him. He could stay every night and that would work perfectly for me.
He stepped back, hands in mine. “It’ll make it easy to head out to the club tomorrow.”
Delusional much, Lila? I had to stop making every question the next step in our relationship to nowhere.
* * *
My eyes flew open. I turned to the alarm clock, afraid I’d overslept. Only eight o’clock, a half hour before I’d set my alarm to go off. Stretching in bed, I rolled over toward Dare. Asleep, his beautiful features appeared angelic. I resisted the urge to lick the nipple peeking out of my blue comforter. He needed his sleep, and I had cheesecake and cookies to bake.
I pulled on some sweats and tied up my hair—a shower would have to happen later—before I headed back to the kitchen.
The scent of coffee wafted by me, waking me a bit more. While it brewed, I whipped up the cheesecake recipe—one that didn’t appear too complicated for my first attempt at the dessert. Once they were baking, I carried my second cup of coffee to my chair.
I liked waking up with him. Dangerous. My budding feelings tempted me with fantasies of a lifetime together. Life didn’t bring guarantees, and this pseudo-relationship brought even less. It was a gamble, and no matter how much I hoped this time I’d win, honestly I probably had a better chance of winning the lottery than making this last.
Enough thinking, Braham. Worry never helped anyone.
I’d boxed up the last of the peanut butter cookies when Dare strolled into the living room with his phone to his ear. “Better bring two guys, lots of shit here.”
I scowled at him. My desserts were not shit.
He smacked my ass and bussed a kiss to my cheek on his way to the coffee. He hung up and poured a cup. He took it black, like me.
“The boys’ll be here in about twenty.” He leaned back against the counter.
“My cooking is not shit.” Hands on hips I worked up to mad.
“Whoa.” He held his palms up. “Just an expression. They’re heaven. I plan to eat the rest of the pie for breakfast. Absolutely wonderful pie.”
I softened. I’d overreacted.
He moved in for a kiss, nice and slow, taking his time. His hands squeezed my ass. “Once they’re gone, I’ll show you how much I appreciate you, Red.”
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