Wicked Ride

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “Thank you.”

  Her hand flattened over the dark ink. “What does it mean?”

  He glanced down at the tattoo. “It’s a military designation from home. It means, well, everything.” His Irish brogue rolled the words into a sound of dedication. Of love.

  She swallowed. The design appeared old, and his voice lowered when he spoke of it. What would he sound like with a woman? One who meant as much to him as whatever he’d vowed to protect? “I don’t know a thing about you, do I?”

  He covered her hand over the tattoo. “You know more than almost anybody who isn’t family.” His mouth sought hers, instantly possessing her with warmth and passion. His palms burned across her breasts, and he rolled both nipples between his fingers.

  Her knees weakened, and she reached for his belt buckle. Trembles weakened her fingers, but she managed to disengage the belt and release his zipper. His mouth continued to overwhelm hers as he kicked out of the worn jeans, leaving them both nude. She blinked twice. He was fully erect, long and thick. No wonder he seemed so confident in everything. She grinned.

  Suddenly, both his hands clamped her ass, and he tossed her back on the bed, following to stretch out on top of her. The air whooshed out of her lungs. His mouth didn’t release hers once.

  How was he so strong? The thought instantly spiraled away as he kissed along her jaw, down her throat, and licked her collarbone.

  She gyrated against him, and he groaned as he moved lower and closed his lips over one nipple. Raw heat streaked to her core. She traced his ribcage around to his back, tugging him more solidly against her. He nipped and sucked—sensations exploded through her. Need, want, and even lust combusted as every pull on her nipple rode down and seemed to engulf her clit.

  He moved to the other nipple, stimulating to the point of erotic torture. Finally, he freed her. “You’re stunning, Alexandra.” Tapping long fingers down her torso, he grinned at her sharp intake of breath.

  She’d never felt like this. Worshiped and taken all at once. He was completely into the moment, completely into her. The knowledge went to her head, and she caressed down to his truly fine ass.

  He pressed his fingers between her thighs, brushing across her clit. “So hot and wet.”

  She needed him and now. Crossing around his hip, she stroked his cock.

  He stilled. “Slow, Alexandra.”

  “No.” She smiled and tightened her grip. “Fast this time. Slow later.”

  Levering up, he pressed his forehead to hers. “We can go fast to take the edge off, but baby, I’m gonna play my fill afterward.”

  An electric thrill ran through her, and her entire body shuddered. “If you think you’re able.”

  He grabbed her hip and brushed her mouth with his. “Aye. I’m able.”

  She smiled and arched against his dick. “Condoms?” Sighing, she glanced at the bedtable.

  He stiffened and raised his head. “Ah, no. I won’t get you pregnant.”

  She blinked, her body on fire, her mind awakening. “I’m not worried about pregnancy.” She released him to focus on his desire-filled eyes. “You don’t have condoms?”

  “No. I’m clean, I promise. Just had a physical.” He brushed her nose with a kiss.

  “I’m clean too, and I’m smart. No condoms, no sex.” God, she wanted him. Her entire body thrummed, and wetness, more than ever before, coated her parted thighs. She blinked as vulnerability joined desire. Nude and beneath him probably wasn’t the safest place to be. “Without condoms, it isn’t going to happen.”

  He scrutinized her, an unreadable series of expressions crossing his rugged face. Finally, he nodded. “Okay.” He kissed her again and moved away, gentleness curving his lips. Regret filtered through his eyes, and his massive chest exhaled slowly. “I’ll visit a drugstore first thing in the morning. For now, I guess I get to play.” He kissed her throat, nuzzled down her neck, and licked her already sensitive nipples.

  His kiss engulfed her, and he chuckled while scorching a path from her breasts, across her abdomen, right to her aching core. All grace, he scooted off the bed and onto his knees. His strong hands spread her legs wider, clamped around her thighs, and yanked her until her legs were over his wide shoulders. He held her exposed and open, his breath heating her inner thighs.

  She gasped and tried to hold still. What kind of virile male didn’t have condoms? The thought spiraled away as her body took over.

  His teeth sank into one thigh, and she gasped, arching toward his mouth. His hum tickled her skin right before he licked right through her folds. Electricity rocketed through her, and she gasped, her eyes closing and her head digging into the pillow. He licked again, his fingers digging into her legs, and within seconds, she began to thrash uncontrollably against him.

  He played, setting up rhythms only to change them, inserting one finger and then two inside her. Moving in and out with a new rhythm, and then altering again. Minutes, many minutes later, she began to whisper incoherently, her body gyrating, right on the edge to the point of pain. He paused, and the whole fucking world held its breath.

  “Say my name,” he murmured, poised right above her clit.

  “Kellach,” she blurted out, her body undulating.

  He closed his lips over her pulsating clit and sucked hard. Her body detonated, and shock waves reverberated through her core, under her abdomen, right to her breasts. She cried out, arching, flashes of light shooting behind her closed eyelids.

  He worked her over, prolonging the orgasm until she went boneless with a satisfied mumble.

  Gently, he slipped her legs down his arms, grasped her waist, and lifted her to yank aside the bedclothes and tuck her in.

  Darkness shrouded his face, and she glanced up at his large form. “What about you?”

  He grinned and slid into bed, turning her to spoon against his granite-hard shaft. “Sleep. You can make me happy tomorrow after I buy condoms.”

  Her eyelids dropped and she snuggled into him, guilt rising. “What kind of guy doesn’t have condoms?”

  He breathed evenly against her, his chest a hard wall. “I’m still moving in and hadn’t thought I’d need them.”

  Sweet. Definitely sweet. The orgasm had been spectacular, and she couldn’t leave him like this. Plus, although she’d climaxed like there was no tomorrow, a hollowness echoed deep within her. If he was feeling even a percentage of that, she couldn’t leave him hard and wanting. “I could do the same for you.”

  “No.” He tucked a solid arm around her waist. “The first time I come with you, I want to be looking in those amazing eyes and feeling your entire body on fire around me. Trust me.” He kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep, Alexandra. I’ll keep you safe tonight.”

  His warmth surrounded her, and for the first time in so long, she actually felt safe. She’d figure out the rest tomorrow.

  Chapter 13

  Lex awoke with a startle, sitting upright in bed . . . in 1600-thread-count sheets, surrounded by the scent of male. Clutching the sheet to her chest, she glanced around the quiet room. A set of woman’s clothing lay on an antique chair by the master bathroom. Soft clunks sounded from what were probably pans in the kitchen. Swallowing, her head spinning, her body way too relaxed, she slipped from the bed and padded barefoot to the clothes.

  A slim black skirt, red blouse, panty and bra set still in the tissue paper, socks, and black leather boots that actually made her sigh. Then she grinned. The guy saw her as a dominatrix. Chuckling, she took the clothing into the bath to jump into the many nozzled shower, moaning in pure bliss.

  But the extravagance of the penthouse, and the designer clothing did beg a question. Just who the hell was Kellach Dunne?

  Lex finished her shower and drew on the expensive clothing. The skirt reached to her knees, as did the luxurious boots. The panties fit but the bra didn’t come close, as it was at least a cup too large. Whatever woman had left the clothing at Kell’s house had been rather well-endowed.

  She
paused and glanced in the full-length mirror. Wow. Dressed in the bold clothing, she looked . . . dangerous.

  Ah ha. The clothes belonged to Kell’s cousin, the lawyer. Had to be.

  Lex shook out her hair and smoothed her fingers through the already curling ends. Enough hedging. She had to go out and face him.

  The night before had been amazing, and he’d controlled her every move, which had only made her come harder. Vulnerability washed through her in complete contrast to the tough outfit. Steeling her shoulders, she hustled out of the bathroom and bedroom, strode through the living room and stopped short in the kitchen. Well, shit.

  Two young men, the ones from the diner, sat at the table gobbling up what looked like waffles.

  She paused. Damn it. She was a big ole slut cop who’d stayed the night with their friend.

  Slowly, they turned their heads.

  She expected derision or mocking smiles. Instead, the two men nearly tipped over their chairs and jumped to their feet, overwhelming the kitchen with pure male size.

  The one with tinted eyeglasses flushed. “Sorry we started without you. The waffles just smelled so good—”

  “They are good.” The kid with green eyes nodded solemnly and then reached to his side to pull out a chair. “Please have a seat, ma’am.”

  Ma’am? She squinted to search for any mockery and only saw polite smiles. She was only a decade older than them, but the politeness was sweet. The one with glasses glanced longingly down at his half-full plate before turning and smiling at her again.

  Kellach rounded the counter with a full platter of scrambled eggs to slide to the middle of the table. “Grab a plate now, darlin’. They’ll eat the placemats if we don’t stop them.” Moving toward her, like every dangerous predator with grace, he dropped a chaste kiss on her nose.

  She blinked, her body frozen and stunned. “Ah—”

  Kell drew her forward. “Alexandra, this is Garrett Kayrs”—he pointed to the kid with eyeglasses first, and then turned his attention to the other kid—“and Logan Kyllwood.”

  “Ma’am,” Garrett said, taking her hand in an übergentle grip to shake ever so slightly. “We’re sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but we had to talk to Kell, and we, uh, smelled the waffles.” He handed her over to Logan, who shook just as gently.

  Logan released her and smiled. “We like to eat.”

  Beautiful. Both boys, although way too young for her, were stunningly beautiful in totally different ways, yet fiercely masculine and tough. Way too tough for their youth. Young badasses who looked like they could bench press a truck or two.

  Kell propelled her forward to sit and then scooted her chair closer to the table, placing another kiss on her ear.

  A shiver slid through her, and she cleared her throat.

  Both boys instantly dropped back into their seats. Logan piled eggs onto her plate while Garrett dished several waffles on next. Such polite kids, and they genuinely seemed to be trying to help her.

  She’d never be able to eat so much. Her mind fuzzed as she tried to make sense of an already odd morning. She wanted to ask Kell about the clothes, but she didn’t want to make it so obvious to the boys that she’d been naked and needed clothes. Of course, they had to have known she’d stayed the night, but maybe they didn’t think she’d been naked.

  Of course they’d figure she’d been naked.

  She sighed and poured syrup on her waffles. They did smell delicious.

  Kellach finally sat across from her, reaching for a plate. “Garrett and Logan are prospects at Fire.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. The polite, tough-as-nails cuties were prospects? Hmm. “Since when?” She flashed back to the diner scene.

  Logan grinned around a mouth of waffles. “Since the other night.”

  Lex nodded. “I saw you guys at the diner. Who’s King?”

  Garrett coughed. “You mean, the king?”

  “Sure.” The guy had seemed seriously in charge, and he’d ticked Kell off, so what the hell was going on? “He’s in the club, right?”

  Logan pressed his lips together while mirth filled his eyes.

  Garrett snorted. “Ah, no. The king has his own club.”

  Logan grinned. “The king is a club. Right?”

  Garrett nodded and chuckled. “He’s my uncle. Our uncle.”

  None of this was making sense. Lex took a bite and nearly hummed as flavor exploded on her tongue. Delicious. She wiped her mouth with a linen napkin. “Who the heck is the king, and why are you here?”

  Both boys looked toward Kell.

  He dug into his eggs, his black eyes amused. Then he shrugged.

  Garrett lifted one dark eyebrow and met the shrug with one of his own. “We like bikes.”

  Oh, whatever. Lex glanced toward Logan. “Are you related to Garrett or King?”

  “The king,” Logan said slowly. “Garrett is my new brother because his sister married my brother. That means I’m related to the king, too. Family is family.”

  Garrett nodded solemnly and reached for more waffles. “Damn straight.” He flushed and glanced at her. “Begging your pardon, ma’am.”

  What the hell? “You two are a bit polite to be Fire prospects.” She took a sip of orange juice.

  “Just around ladies.” Garrett leaned back and patted his flat belly. “My mom is fierce, you know? We don’t swear around her.” He rubbed his already whiskered chin. “Or my aunts. Or, well, any of them.”

  Logan nodded solemnly. “Yep. My mom’s a demon if we swear.”

  Garrett burst into laughter, his body moving with humor. “Good one.”

  Lex frowned as the kids continued to laugh way out of proportion to the small insult. She glanced at Kellach. “I think I missed the joke.”

  Kell sipped on his juice. “Family joke, I’m afraid. Felicity is one hell of a demonness if she’s riled.”

  For some reason, that sent the boys into more gales of rolling laughter.

  Finally, Logan wiped his eyes. “We’re sorry, Alexandra. Sometimes family jokes are just funny if you were there, you know. We didn’t mean to leave you out.”

  Garrett instantly sobered. “Shoot. Do you feel left out? I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head, more confusion dawning. They were so damn sweet, how could they be prospects for a club she just knew was running drugs and guns? “Do your mothers know you’re here?”

  “Yes,” the boys said in unison.

  “We were on a beach on the other side of the world,” Logan said, his gaze forlorn.

  Lex shook her head. “Why didn’t you stay there?” They had to be safer on a beach with bikini bunnies than in Seattle with the drug war going on.

  “Ask Logan,” Garrett muttered.

  “Me?” Logan shoved back from the table. “You were the one with the blonde. Hell, the two blondes whose dads showed up.”

  Garrett flushed. “You were with a redhead and a brunette.”

  Logan grinned. “Yeah, but their daddies didn’t show up with shotguns and bust up the hotel.”

  Kellach cleared his throat. “Enough. Clear your plates.”

  The boys instantly stood and began clearing the table.

  Lex pushed away, and Garrett shook his head. “We’ve got it, ma’am. Sit and relax.”

  She instantly shot Kell a hard look. Something weird was going on, and she didn’t like it one damn bit. Her foot tapped as the boys quickly cleaned up, obviously having done so before.

  Kellach just looked at her, no expression on his hard face.

  Oh yeah? Fine. She turned to face the kitchen. “You boys don’t know of any weapons that throw fire, do you?” she asked.

  Garrett glanced up from wiping down a counter. “Man-made?”

  Why the hell did everyone keep making that distinction? “Of course,” she said.

  “Nope.” Logan finished loading the dishwasher and shut the door. “I guess there are flame throwers like in the movies, but I’m sure that’s not what you mean.”

 
She shook her head. “Why did you ask if I meant man-made weapons?”

  The boys stilled and both faced her, losing all expression.

  A shiver trickled down her spine. That quickly, they’d gone from boys to predators. “Gentlemen?”

  Kell stood. “You’re welcome for breakfast. Now head on over to Simone’s and help her put up the shelving system she wants. Don’t tick her off.”

  Sighing in what sounded like relief, the boys launched themselves toward the doorway with mumbled good-byes. As the door closed behind them, a sense of peace filtered through the penthouse. She hadn’t realized the energy the kids had added to the very atmosphere until they’d left.

  She turned toward Kell and pressed her hands to her hips. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Family stuff.” He lifted her right out of her chair, boots and all, and crossed to sit in an oversized chair. “How are you today?”

  “Fine.” She smoothed her hands down the skirt and tried to settle herself on his lap. Raised without a father, unmarried, and more comfortable with work than people, she’d never spent much time cuddling on a man’s lap. Any man’s. Her face heated. “Are these Simone’s clothes?”

  “Yes. The skirt is a mini on her, but she has small feet, so I figured the boots would fit.” He rubbed her back and then his voice rumbled sexy low. “The bra didn’t fit, I take it?”

  Her nipples flared to life, as did her girly parts. “Those boys aren’t prospects, Kell. Please tell me what’s going on.”

  He glanced down at her lips and then nodded. “Fine. They got in some trouble at the beach, and they were sent here as punishment and to help me figure out about Apollo.”

  “So they’re not prospects?”

  “They’re prospects the same as I’m a club member. Kind of and with an ulterior motive.” His head ducked, and he brushed a kiss over her lips.

  Flutters cascaded from her mouth down to her abdomen. “Tell me the truth.”