Looking up at the man staring at us, I'm all for it.
He's tall. I mean, I'm sitting on the ground, so from this point of view pretty much anyone would be tall. But he looks tall. He's got dirty blonde hair that doesn't look like it's been brushed since he crawled out of bed.
Speaking of which, it looks like he just crawled out of bed. As in, he's wearing a pair of sweat pants, some slip on shoes, and not a damn thing else.
Oh yes-- and it's not my brain that's doing the begging as the thought runs through my body like fire-- please keep me.
His jaw is covered in a dark shadow of stubble. His body is solid muscle. His skin is bronzed and smooth with just a bit of fur running down the center of his torso, a shade darker than the hair on his head, and disappearing below the elastic band of his sweats that hang loose below his waist.
Oh my God, do I understand why they call it a "happy trail" now.
My mouth is watering. Literally watering.
It's hard to force my eyes up to his. I want to see how thick his thighs are under those loose fitting work out pants. I want to climb those abs like a fucking ladder and I want to drag my tongue across the flat, brown nipples that are tight from being exposed to the chilly morning air.
I kinda want to bite his shoulder.
Wait. No. I'm going in the wrong direction...I want to start with the biting and work my way down.
Damn. I'm being rude. Am I being rude? I should stop staring at his hunky bod and make eye contact.
Oh. My. God.
I work on focusing on his face. Really focusing. I'm lost. The man is made out of my dirtiest fantasies from head to toe. All I need is to get a peek at what's under those sweats to be sure, but I'm pretty sure I'm in love.
"You're a chick," he says in a voice that's nothing short of disgusted.
If this was a movie, you'd hear the sound of glass shattering. A train skidding down the rails as it brakes hard to avoid hitting a school bus full of kids. A needle being hastily dragged off a spinning record.
So much for love.
from Bone: A Wild Romance
Stryker
First thing in the morning, I opened the door and let Ninja out while I get some coffee going and brush my teeth.
It's not like the little shit to stay outside for long. She's usually bouncing up those stairs, getting under my feet and then running back downstairs at least half a dozen times before I get in the shower.
When I look back out the kitchen window at my squatter by the pump, I notice he's up already. Wandering around the place with a mug of something steaming in his hands. At least he didn't set up a damn stove next to the fucking gas pumps, even if they are dry.
From the look of him, I guess he's pretty young. Fuck, he better be at least 18. I hate the idea of having a goddamn minor camped out on my property. If that's the case, I might have to throw that dirt bike in the back of the truck and haul the kid back home myself.
I watch him wander around for awhile, black hoodie all cinched up around his face, black sweat pants. Got his riding boots and gloves on. Can't get a good look at him, but I guess it's probably pretty cold this time of morning. Teach the kid right for not knowing the limits of his bike and gettin' stuck out here.
Ninja whines at the door for me to follow her outside and play and then doesn't wait for me before she's back down the stairs, chasing whatever dogs find to chase while I find my house shoes and head out after her.
When I get downstairs she's MIA. It's not like her to wander too far for too long and I don't like that she hasn't come running back here with one of her toys covered in drool for me to throw for her.
I hear her shrill barks coming from out front and I know what she's up to. At least I don't have to worry about her anymore, now I'm just pissed that she's not coming when I call her.
Sure enough, as I round the corner of the store, I see her jumping all over the kid sitting on his--
Not cool. Fuck. This is not cool.
I feel my jaw lock as I keep heading toward the two of them.
Ninja's got her tail wagging like crazy and she's yipping excitedly as she watches me get closer but the little shit won't budge from her new friend.
And I don't know what the fuck to do next.
Because the kid with the dirt bike is sitting on the concrete looking at me like I hung the motherfucking moon...and she's gorgeous.
The black hoodie is gone thanks to the sun getting up over the hills and now I can see the long, golden braid draped over her shoulder and hanging across one of two of the perkiest tits I've ever seen. She ain't wearing a bra either. Her breasts are free under the thermal shirt she's got on, her nips hard as small, sharp rocks poking through the waffle weave.
Her legs are stretched out straight in front of her and she's bracing herself with one hand behind her while Ninja just stands across the chick's lap like she owns the girl.
The girl looks like this isn't her first night outside, the braid she's got her hair pulled back in is a mess of renegade strands trying to escape. There's a dirt smudge across one side of her forehead and it's easy to imagine her leaving it as she wipes the back of her glove across her face.
It doesn't take my overactive imagination to be able to tell she's got a hot little figure on her. Those tits are on full display despite being completely covered, and I can see the way her waist nips in tight and the flare of her ass against the cement.
I'd like to see her standing up.
I'd like to see her naked.
I'd like to see her bent over in front of me while I watch my dick disappear inside her.
It's been too damn long since I got laid. This chick might clean up damn good, but that doesn't mean she wants to ride my cock all day while we wait for the tanks to get refilled.
I gotta stop picturing that pouty mouth wrapped around my dick.
What the fuck am I going to do with some chick hanging out around the place for the next few days while my gas tanks are empty and my balls are full?
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I don't know how I forget about the small motorbike leaning on its kickstand by my gas pump but I do.
The look on her face goes from adoring gaze to woman scorned in less than a second as she pulls herself out from under Ninja and gets to her feet.
"I need gas," she says with a jerk of her head toward the pump while she wipes her hands on her pants.
There's an edge in her voice that's all sass and sarcasm. It suits her and even though I kinda want to smack her ass just to show her who's boss around here, I also kinda want to smack her ass because now that she's up on her feet I can see it better.
It's an ass worth smacking.
She stands by the pump, staring at me and waiting for me to respond.
"When do you open up?" She points her chin at the store and narrows her eyes at me.
I finally answer, "Store opens at 7."
"7?" She gives my shirtless chest a scowl, "Isn't that about 15 minutes ago?"
Hell, I don't know. I don't have a watch on, I don't bother carrying my cell phone around since there ain't no damn signal out here anyway. I'm not usually standing in front of my store half naked this time of morning with a pounding headache from staying up too late, drinking too much booze the night before while a beautiful woman stares me down like I'm trash.
So much for any notions I was entertaining about inviting her to stay in the apartment with me while she waits for the tanker to get here. Turns out she's kind of a bitch. Probably one of those man-hating feminazi types that's angry with me just for having a penis.
Fuuuck-- my eyes can't help but slide down her body, taking their time around those curves-- what a shame, I think.
"So are you planning on opening this place up today?" Her voice borders on being downright hateful, "I need some gas."
She jerks her head toward her bike. Some foreign thing with a small engine that's more dirt bike than motorcycle. She's got her tent and stove packed back up and everything's c
inched down on the back of the seat so there's just enough room for her cute little ass left for sitting.
Damn bike probably has a 2 gallon gas tank. It can't have a very good range on it. Where ever she came from, where ever she's going, she must be on a tour of America's lesser frequented gas stations.
"There ain't no gas," I inform her curtly as I turn on my heel and head back to my place.
"Come on, Ninj!" I call as I walk off. Of course, the damn mutt doesn't budge. She sits her ass down right on top of our new tenant's boots and stares at me like I canceled Christmas.
"Fine, stay with your new BFF," I mutter under my breath. The girls outnumber me now and apparently neither one of them think much of me.
Now Available
BONE: A Wild Romance
by Rocklyn Ryder
About Rocklyn:
In real life, my endings tend toward the "happily for now" rather than the "ever after." Some people will tell you that's because I'm jaded. I prefer to think of it as "unwilling to settle."
I like writing steamy scenes between boys that are all hard muscle and soft hearts and the women they choose to claim as their own.
And my book boyfriends always measure up to my standards!
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A New Resolution: A Modern Match-Maker Romance Page 13