Love by Design

by Wynne Roman

  I can almost imagine him closing his eyes and shaking his head in resignation. We didn’t always see eye to eye about my life choices.

  Talon stands, signals the bartender, and drops a couple of bills next to our empty glasses. With a tilt of his head, he turns to me and grins.

  “Ready?”

  I stand, leaning into him as he slips an arm around me. I do it mostly because I’m suddenly aware of just how big he is. I mean, I knew it, but it didn’t register in the same way. I’m no small thing; I stand 5’7”. Talon makes me feel almost tiny.

  “You drunk?” He peers down at me, a small frown marring his forehead.

  “No.” A dreamy edge softens my smile, irritating me the instant I realize what I’m doing. I blink it away. “Three shots of tequila and three beers aren’t enough to get me drunk. But . . .” I give him a wicked smile. “It’s enough to make me very, very agreeable.”

  “Oh, sweet thing.” He grins. “You might regret admitting that.”

  I can’t help staring at him. His body, so large and warm, fills my senses with masculinity. Everything female within me responds. The sandalwood scent entices me, and the sultry longing in his chocolatey eyes tightens my body in reaction.

  “You —” I slide a hand up over his chest “— are a dangerous man.”

  Something in his expression both hardens and tenses. “You have no idea.”

  He urges me forward, guiding me toward the door with his hand splayed at the small of my back. I step outside, and I’m pressed back against the wall almost immediately. Talon’s lips are on mine before I can do anything more than gasp.

  His breath is fresh, his lips soft and hard at the same time, and his tongue is a dancing enticement. It sweeps into my mouth, circling, toying, and then coaxing me to follow his seductive movements. I do my own tasting and kissing, and then, ultimately, I lose my tether on reality.

  “I’ve wanted your mouth since the instant I saw you.” His lips are pressed against mine, his voice a growl.

  “Who taught you how to kiss,” I pant, “because I want to thank them.”

  His laugh is pure satisfaction. “Leave your ride here. I’ll make arrangements for it.”

  “Arrangements?” I bargain for enough time to consider exactly what that means. “You think I’m spending the night with you?”

  “Yeah.” His voice leaves no question. “I won’t be done fucking you until morning.”

  God. Why do my nipples go all tight and hard, my pussy wet? Nothing about me should respond to the in-your-face masculinity of this man. And yet, here I am, all turned on and shit.

  Until this night, I didn’t believe in instant attraction.

  That doesn’t make me entirely stupid, however.

  “Uh, you might convince me to spend the night, but leaving my truck . . .” I’m not quite sure what more I want to say.

  Talon stops, peers down at me through the shadows. It’s dark enough that I can’t tell for sure, but — did his eyes narrow? In irritation? Disbelief?

  “What about it?”

  I stiffen to corral my body’s responses. “A girl’s gotta look out for herself. Getting on the back of a stranger’s bike? That sound smart to you?”

  “A stranger?”

  “Pretty much. You might be the hottest thing next to the sun around here, but that doesn’t mean I can trust you. Yet.” I’m not sure where that last word came from.

  He makes a soft, grunting sound that mingles with a laugh. “But you still wanna fuck me.” It isn’t a question.

  I reach for his whisker-roughened cheek. “Have you seen you?” I rub my thumb over his bottom lip. “Been kissed by you? Hell, yes, I wanna fuck you. But that doesn’t mean I suddenly went stupid.”

  I can feel the weight of his stare. The turned-on parts of me are pissed off at my feminist stance, while a more cynical inner voice applauds my self-protection. The inner argument rages for long seconds.

  Other than the gossip that the Hell’s Creed members like to fuck a lot, there haven’t been any other rumors to warn you away.

  So what? You think I’m going to be reckless with my own safety? I’m the only one I have to depend on.

  Remembering that is enough to end the argument.

  Talon’s response comes as a bit of a surprise. “You’ve been drinking, sweet thing.”

  Well . . . shit. “Not that much.”

  “Too much to drive.”

  “What about you?”

  “I was drinking Coke.”

  “What?” I couldn’t be more surprised.

  “Don’t drink and drive. Crashed and burned once.” Talon shrugs. “It was enough to teach me a big fucking lesson.”

  I get a sudden image of him laid out on the pavement, torn and bleeding and with a motorcycle crumpled next to him. It’s ugly, horrifying, and makes me shiver.

  “Talon . . .” I don’t really know what to say.

  “Compromise?”

  “What?”

  “You ride with me. I’ll have one of the prospects bring your ride to the clubhouse.”

  The Hell’s Creed clubhouse. “That’s where we’re going?”

  “It’s where I live.”

  It strikes me as funny all of a sudden. Here I am, a little bit toasted, standing in a bar parking lot, buzzed by a kiss that beats every other kiss I’ve ever had, and negotiating the rest of the night with a man I’ve already agreed to fuck. I start to laugh.

  “What?”

  I shake my head. “Life. Nothing. Okay.” I nod this time. “But you promise about my truck?”

  “Yes.” He gives a sharp nod. “You have my word.”

  “Your word?”

  A moment of silence stretches between us. “You might not believe it, but a biker’s word is his bond. It’s all a man really has.”

  The words surprise me into giving him a tender, understanding smile. I can’t help it. “My father would have said something like that.”

  He nods slowly, like that matters somehow. It does to me. That he and Dad shared the same philosophy eases some of the distrust I feel at being so far out of my comfort zone.

  “C’mon.” He takes my hand and tugs me over to a huge black-and-chrome Harley. He hands me the helmet that’s strapped to the back.

  “Where’s yours?” Even I know that California law requires everybody to wear a helmet.

  “That’s it.” He points to the one in my hands. “Clubhouse isn’t far. I’ll risk it.”

  I shrug my agreement, pull on the helmet, and then he brushes my fingers away to adjust the strap under my chin. He must have noticed how perfectly I’m dressed to ride: jeans, flannel shirt, boots. No purse, just money, a credit card, and my ID in my pocket.

  I’m ready.

  Talon swings one long leg over the seat and straddles the bike. It purrs with that distinct Harley rumble when he starts it.

  “Get on,” he shouts. “Use my shoulders for balance, and put your feet on the pegs.” He points to the little chrome-and-rubber extensions jutting from each side of the bike. “Careful of the pipes,” he adds seriously. “They get hot.”

  I follow his instructions precisely, and the next thing I know, I’m pressed tight against his back, my crotch cradling his ass. The bike vibrates through me, and any physical awareness I had is now quadrupled. My body needs to move, and I end up shifting closer. My breasts suddenly ache for the contact.

  A big hand comes down on my thigh for a few seconds, silver rings gleaming under the passing street lamps. He doesn’t say a thing until we hit a red light. Stopped, he turns his head far enough that he can catch my gaze with his. “Keep pushing those tits into my back, baby, and I’m gonna pull over and fuck you right here.”

  I feel my eyes go wide. Thank God he can’t see much through the helmet’s visor. I nod once to show I understand. He stares at me a few seconds longer, his face heavy with desire, and then he turns back to the road.

  Ten minutes later, we pull up to a tall chain-link fence. The gate roll
s back, and we slip through the opening.

  The Hell’s Creed clubhouse. I knew it was here, have driven past before, but I’ve never seen past the fence. I think it used to be an old warehouse, but I can’t remember anything more. It sits at the edge of town, the Sierra Nevadas at its back and industrial buildings as its neighbors.

  Talon pulls to a stop near the front door. A few other bikes are parked there, but there isn’t much else to see, despite a line of bright floodlights. A huge sign displays the club emblem and the words “Hell’s Creed Motorcycle Club, Prospect Falls, California.”

  Nobody’s hiding anything around here.

  He holds the bike steady as I climb off, then Talon follows. Taking my hand, he leads me into the clubhouse.

  It’s nicer than I expected. The room’s huge, with a bar along the back wall on the right, a couple of pool tables, an old-fashioned pinball machine, and what look like vintage video games. The left side has a couple of seating areas with mismatched couches, loveseats, and chairs.

  A surprisingly young guy mans the mostly empty bar. A couple of bikers are playing pool, one is playing a video game, while another is sitting in an oversized chair with a scantily-clad woman on his lap. They’re making out but nothing more than what I saw at Creed’s.

  Who’d have thought the Hell’s Creed clubhouse would be dead on a Friday night?

  “It’ll get busy later,” Talon murmurs, like he can read my mind. “Tomorrow night’ll be crazier.”

  “Why tomorrow night?”

  “Saturday’s our party night.”

  I nod. After tonight, I won’t be around to see. Talon strikes me as a man women might want for more than a night, but they rarely get him.

  Remember that, I warn myself.

  “Got your keys, sweet thing?” Talon asks, dropping my hand to hold out his, palm up.

  I miss his touch almost immediately, and that’s unacceptable. I want to turn into him, press myself against his chest, and reclaim the strength and heat of his body.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Instead, I stare at his hand as my brain reminds me that he’s keeping his promise. Keys for the prospects to deliver my truck to the clubhouse. I smile crookedly, dig into my jeans pocket, and offer up my key ring.

  “Keg,” he calls, and the young guy from behind the bar rushes over.

  “Need somethin’, Talon?”

  “Yeah. Take another prospect and go over to Creed’s. Bring Ainsley’s truck here by tomorrow morning.”

  “Sure thing.” Keg seems eager to please but stares at me with undisguised curiosity.

  “It’s an old white Ford.” I describe the vehicle in a little more detail, give him the license plate number, and Keg nods seriously.

  “Got it. No problem.”

  The young man heads off with my keys, leaving me alone with Talon. I’m suddenly nervous, like some naïve kid or something. That remarkable scent that belongs only to Talon has been teasing me like an aphrodisiac since the instant we met, and my body continues to respond with superheated awareness.

  He takes my hand again, this time stroking his thumb over my pulse point. “You ready, sweet thing?”

  “Ready?” God, my voice sounds like a dog’s squeaky toy. I clear my throat.

  “My room’s upstairs.”

  “Upstairs?” I sound ridiculous, like somebody’s lame parrot.

  “Upstairs,” he repeats. “Doesn’t seem like you’re ready to fuck in public, so let’s go to my room.”

  Fuck in public.

  The words arrow through me, straight to my core. My nipples tighten, like they weren’t already hard, and I’m suddenly embarrassingly wet. Maybe I’m not ready to fuck in public, but the idea of it is shockingly exciting.

  I must make a noise, because he laughs seductively. “Ah, so my sweet thing is intrigued.” He drops his head to steal a quick kiss, light and teasing and nothing like the one earlier. “We’ll save that for later. Right now, I want inside you too bad to fucking wait.”

  Three

  TALON

  My room is on the second floor of the clubhouse. I’m Hell’s Creed Treasurer, so I get one of the nicer rooms. I don’t tell Ainsley; my place as the MC’s money man is the last thing I’m interested in right now.

  I’m way more into the hot piece of ass walking next to me. I want to get inside of her like a virgin with his first girl.

  Ainsley’s built like a real woman, with curves that remind me how much I love a nice, round ass. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the face of an angel, and the smile of a devil.

  She’s damn near fucking perfect.

  And to think I almost didn’t go to Creed’s tonight. Just got back from a two-day run and was tired enough to come straight back to the clubhouse. Prez sent Shiner with me, which makes collecting payment dicey sometimes. Worked out okay this time; our enforcer’s presence was enough to intimidate the client into settling his debt without much argument.

  That didn’t mean I wasn’t on my guard the whole time and needed a little diversion to wind down. Knew I could get it at Creed’s. Ten minutes in, and I noticed her at the bar.

  Goddamn.

  Beautiful, friendly, and she smells so fucking good! She tastes even better. My cock is already hard, and now it stirs, remembering that kiss.

  “Here we go, sweet thing.”

  I open the door to my room, reach around her to switch on the light, and step back for her to go in ahead of me. I know how to be a gentleman when the occasion is right.

  “This is . . . nice!”

  She sounds surprised enough that I glance around. Looks ordinary to me. King-sized bed, but I always make it. Always pick up my dirty clothes and keep the room decently clean, too. Military training, I suppose. Not much else: a desk and chair, dresser, small refrigerator, and doors to the closet and bathroom.

  There’s also a poster with a naked chick spread out on the seat of a Harley, but I don’t suppose that impresses her much.

  I grin. “You expected something else?”

  Smiling, she turns in a circle. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  I close the door, lock it, and grab her hand so I can pull her close. “You expect this?”

  I take her mouth with mine, a soft kiss at first because I want to taste her that way. Just our lips probing and seeking. Easy doesn’t last. In a couple of seconds, I have her pressed against the door, my tongue inside her mouth, and my dick pressed against the cleft between her thighs.

  Ainsley’s right there with me. She makes a soft noise in her throat, and her arms come up around my back as she arches into me. That clean, fresh scent of her goes straight through my veins, turning it into the sexiest thing I’ve ever smelled.

  “How do you do that?” she pants against my mouth when we pause for a breath.

  “Do what?”

  “Take me from zero to a hundred in, like, two seconds.”

  Don’t think it’s me doing it. It’s us, together, but I’m not ready to say that. Not sure I’m ready to believe it.

  “It’s my superpower, baby.” I laugh with a seductive tone I know she’ll understand.

  She makes a soft sound of agreement. “And what else?”

  “What else what?” I end the question with another long, deep kiss.

  “What other superpowers do you have?”

  She shrieks when I swing her up in my arms and spin away from the door. “Can’t tell you. Have to show you.”

  A couple of steps, and I’m next to the bed. I put one knee on the mattress, drop her smack in the middle, and she lets out another squealing laugh.

  “Where’s the big bad biker who’s supposed to intimidate the hell out of me?” she asks with a teasing grin.

  “Oh, he’s in here, sweet thing.” I point to my chest. “He just has other things on his mind right now.”

  “Like?”

  “Fucking.”

  Her eyes go bright, and I kiss her again. Her mouth opens under mine, letting me stroke my tongue over hers
. Ainsley doesn’t hold back; she gives me whatever I ask, and then we’re in my mouth, tasting and touching and testing.

  We go back and forth until my growing cock starts to press painfully against my zipper. Jesus. Not exactly comfortable when you’re commando.

  Pushing up on one elbow, I occupy her with more kisses as I work the buttons of her flannel shirt. I’m fucking good at it, and her shirt falls open to reveal a lacy black bra. It’s a low-cut thing that pushes her tits together and makes me want to fuck them.

  The girl who dresses like a tomboy has a soft, feminine side? I grin.

  I run a heavy finger over the curves that pop out of her bra, flicking at the front closure until it almost opens. “You gonna let me see those pretty tits?”

  “Is that all you want? To look?”

  A squeeze of my fingers, and the clasp is open. I swipe my hand over her, the cups fall aside, and I get my first look at her beautiful breasts. Her cherry-colored nipples tighten like they’re begging for my mouth.

  “Ah, baby,” I murmur as I swirl that same finger around her areola. “You are beautiful.”

  I take one peak in my mouth, suck gently, and increase the pressure as I toy with her other nipple. She gasps and shoves her hands in my hair, holding my head close. Swallowing a grunt of approval, I close my teeth over the bud in my mouth before I lave it with my tongue. She tastes so good, I switch sides and do the same thing.

  “Talon.”

  She breathes my name in a way that tells me she likes what I’m doing. She’s going to like the rest of it even more.

  I slide down, drop open-mouthed kisses over her abdomen, and then pull her shirt free of her pants. She angles up enough to shrug out of the shirt and bra before she shoves them to the floor. I stay busy unfastening and unzipping her jeans. In moments, I’ve got her naked and sprawled out like the perfect fantasy come true.

  How did I not know I wanted this until Ainsley spread herself out this way?

  “Goddamn, you’re beautiful, sweet thing,” I mutter hoarsely. Hate that my voice gives away how much I want her, but I can’t do anything about it now.

  “And you have too many clothes on,” she whispers seductively.