RIDING ROUGH (Hard Leather, #1)

by Franca Storm

  “We need to talk.”

  Our words melded together, as we shocked one another by blurting out the same sentence at once.

  11

  ~Lucy~

  “Whoo! Faster, baby!” I yelled over the rush of the wind whipping by and the thunder of Mason’s Harley reveling in its element as we tore down the country dirt road.

  “No faster. Come back up here. Want your hands on me,” he called back.

  How could a girl resist that sort of invitation? Especially from Sex-Wrapped-Up-In-Leather Mason Cross? God, since last night, I could barely keep my hands—or anything else—off him as it was. And any time I wasn’t touching him, I was fantasizing about touching him. In the dirtiest of ways.

  I lay, my back flat against the fender, my arms outstretched behind me, waving them wildly in the wind. My feet were hooked on Mason’s hips and he had his left hand clutching my ankle tightly for a little extra support as he rode with one hand with the ease that only an experienced rider could pull off. He always got a little nervous when I stunted.

  But I’d been doing it for years.

  Usually on my own bike.

  Mason was actually the one who’d taught me how to ride years ago. It had been one of our favorite ways to blow off steam when things had really sucked back then, before we’d found Warlow and he and Cole had joined the Steel Titans MC. The stunting had come later. It had mostly been my thing, although Mason had joined me once in a while—probably to keep an eye on me, knowing him.

  His hand left my ankle and he reached for my hand. I strained to meet it and he clutched me in a steadfast grip. I pushed off and his formidable strength did the rest, without rocking the bike, managing to settle me back into a sitting position behind him.

  I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist and kissed the back of his leather cut. “Hey there.”

  He chuckled over his shoulder. “Welcome back.”

  We’d been riding for the last twenty minutes down the open road. I loved this route, accessible via the rear exit out of the clubhouse parking lot, instead of through the main security gates that led to a road that took you on to Warlow’s town center. This route consisted of dirt roads and absolutely no traffic. Empty. It was so incredibly freeing and invigorating.

  Peaceful.

  After that awkward moment back in the clubhouse corridor, I figured peaceful might be a temporary thing. That intense look in those enthralling whiskey pools of Mason’s signified that whatever he wanted to talk about was something heavy. Given the weight of what I had to discuss with him, it was likely to go down like a frigging sledgehammer.

  We’d both sensed that negative intensity from one another, the weight of words unspoken that we were holding back from each other, how they would impact the blissful reverie we were enveloped in from last night.

  And so, we’d decided to hold off for a few hours. To enjoy us a little more, before spoiling it with our dual revelations.

  Hence, the wild motorcycle ride now.

  I planned to enjoy every moment of it, to squeeze every ounce of excitement and joy out of it.

  Nibbling lightly on Mason’s ear, causing him to shiver against me, I whispered in his ear, using my best seductive voice, “Pull over, baby.”

  I almost laughed at how quickly he veered off to the side of the road and brought the bike to a safe stop. Watching him move to swing his leg over the bike, I slapped my hand to his leg, signaling him to stop.

  His eyes shot to mine.

  “Stay there. Just spin around the other way and lean back a bit against the handle bars.”

  I climbed off the bike and added, “Oh. And… relax.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything as he followed my instructions, a sly grin spreading over his face. I’d wanted to surprise him with what I planned to do, but it seemed he already knew.

  As I kept my gaze fixed on him while I made my way around to the fender, I became all the more certain of it. His eyes hooded and I heard a low growl rumble from him.

  “Undo your jeans,” I ordered, my voice shaky with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

  I watched, entranced, as he ripped open his belt, popped his fly and… that was it.

  “Mason.”

  “Did what you asked.”

  He stared at me challengingly. It was the way he looked at me when we were about to get physical. The look that reached beyond my surface nerves and touched that desperate need in me to release and explore my erotic desires and kinks, inexperience and inhibition be damned.

  I reached for my zipper.

  “No, Pixie.”

  “What? You don’t—?”

  “Fuck, no. I don’t want my woman stripping off in public for anybody to see. That’s for my eyes only, little darlin’.”

  His possessive words made me smile. Normally, such an overtly protective statement would’ve set me off and got my back up, flipping my mood to sour instantly. But his tone and the loving look in his eyes made it impossible for me to go there, sending a foreign warmth through me instead. I actually found myself liking it.

  He smiled right back at me and then explained, “I want you to come here and take my cock out for me, Luce.”

  Oh.

  I settled myself over the fender, laying my stomach over it and stretching my body until I reached the seat, bracing myself with my hands beneath me to hold myself up just above Mason’s jean-clad thighs.

  Those hooded eyes of his turned predatory. My position alone was clearly getting him off.

  I slipped my hand into his boxers and jerked them down. I failed to hide my surprise as his dick sprung free, standing tall and throbbing desperately for my attention.

  No need for any prep work then. “Wow.”

  “You had me hard the second I saw you in my shirt. I managed to calm down before we started riding. Then you offered to blow me on my bike and all bets were off. It’s a long-time fantasy of mine.”

  I cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “You’ve never messed around on your bike before?”

  Shaking his head, he told me, “No woman has ever been on this bike, except you, so what do you think?”

  “What?” I asked, more than a little taken aback. “So, then, this fantasy of yours was—?”

  “About you. Yeah. Only you.”

  I wrapped my fingers around the base of his dick and squeezed gently. He hissed in pleasure and closed his eyes.

  “But what if we hadn’t got together in the end? It hadn’t exactly been looking good for us.”

  His eyes opened, glazed over now. I was losing him to pleasure as I began fisting his dick at a slow, sensual pace. God, he felt good. Like silk-covered iron against my skin. My mouth watered with the need to taste him.

  “Then all of that bike-related fantasizing would’ve remained just that—fantasy,” he said, simply.

  “Nobody else? You’re serious?”

  “Why’s that so hard to believe? It was you, or nobody, Luce. It’s always been you.”

  His confession was so raw, so sincere and heartfelt. It knocked me for six.

  Because I’d harbored those exact sentiments for years.

  “I feel the same way, baby.”

  The look of adoration in his eyes as I returned his affections melted my heart.

  It was different for Mason. Unlike with my screwed up situation, because of Cole’s overprotectiveness, Mason had had loads of opportunities with God only knew how many women. He was a club member and a smoking-hot one at that, for goodness sake. He had women throwing themselves at him. Yet he’d never broken his bike rule. Never come close to settling down, or getting serious with any female he’d screwed around with.

  He’d been waiting… all for me.

  It was incredible. He was incredible.

  And, right now, I wanted to make this as frigging incredible as I possibly could for him. Just some small gesture to demonstrate how much him holding out for me actually meant to me.

  I was determined to make sure
his fantasy trumped his imagination.

  Sure, I hadn’t banked much real experience, but I’d practiced on props, like dildos and things over the years. I liked to be prepared, didn’t like going into situations blind. I’d tasted him a little that first night when he’d taken my virginity. But I was gonna really bring it this time. He was in for the surprise of his life.

  I grasped his thick base with my thumb and forefinger to keep it steady. Then I winked at him, shifted my weight and took him deep, one teasingly slow inch at a time, refusing to stop until my nose was buried in his pubic hair.

  “Ah… shit, yeah,” he groaned, throwing his head back. “Feels so fucking good.”

  Keeping his dick rooted deep in my throat, I let out a low resonating hum that sent vibrations down the length of his shaft. He was beside himself, writhing on the bike and digging his fingers into the leather seat. I finished off with a couple of hard swallows that had his dick jerking in my mouth and him cursing in pleasure.

  I picked up the pace and went to town, deep throating him mercilessly, my lips a blur as they rode his shaft furiously.

  “Shit, the way you swallow my cock, woman,” he choked, barely able to get his words out.

  The fact that he could barely speak was such a turn-on. And the guttural growls that sounded from him as I rolled his balls between my fingers almost sent me over the edge.

  His hands fisted in my hair to the roots, tugging to the point of delicious pain. He didn’t push my head down though, or try to control me. No, it was just his wild, animalistic side coming out to play. And I fucking loved it whenever that happened.

  He began thrusting his hips, bucking wildly, and I knew he was close.

  “Fuck,” he grunted. “Gonna come real hard,” he warned. “Jesus.”

  He wasn’t wrong about that. His salty taste hit my tongue and I swallowed and kept swallowing. Over and over and over, as his violent torrent of release pumped itself down my throat.

  Thank goodness I didn’t possess a gag reflex, or it surely would’ve choked me.

  When it finally subsided and I licked him clean, I lifted my head to find him staring at me in utter astonishment, like he really couldn’t believe what had just gone down.

  “I’m not sure whether to take your shock as a compliment, or as an insult,” I jested. “How bad must I have been sexually up until now, huh?”

  “You’ve been damn perfect, little darlin’. But that? Jesus fucking Christ. Out of this world. I don’t even know how to—I mean—shit, you’ve got me stumped.”

  I smiled from ear-to-ear. “Wow, I am good then.”

  We both laughed.

  As he tucked himself back into his jeans, he said, “Come on, let’s get back on the road.”

  “It sounds like you have a destination in mind now.”

  “Yeah, your place.”

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  Those predatory eyes that sent desire shooting straight to my core flashed at me. “You just woke the beast. The side of the road isn’t gonna do for what I have planned for you. So, hop on. I need to get you behind closed doors ASAP.”

  I shivered at his words.

  I couldn’t wait.

  12

  ~Lucy~

  Naked on my back, just my thin pale-blue sheet draped across my sweat-soaked, prone body, I fought to catch my breath. I turned my head, watching Mason make his way back to the bed. He’d just tossed yet another condom in the trash can over by my desk. God, he was magnificent. I couldn’t look away. Those broad, linebacker-like shoulders that gave way to a set of rigid pectorals. I finally understood what women meant by the term washboard abs. They were hard too. Just like his biceps and his leg muscles. Mason was a real man, though. Meaning, his muscles actually worked, unlike those guys who spent so much time at the gym sculpting their bodies just to look good. Mason worked out and kept in shape to survive. To have the stamina, the brute strength and agility to beat back an opponent, should it come down to that.

  He seemed so oversized for my room, not just physically, but his overpowering presence as a whole. It was strange, but I liked it. I wanted that sensation to wrap tightly around me and never let go.

  My eyes dipped to his dick, somehow still hard, and slapping against his stomach as he walked back to me. I looked away quickly, before he caught me. There was no way I could risk it. I was exhausted.

  He slapped his finger to the button on my iPod, ending the song on repeat that I’d had playing. I Remember You by Skid Row. “Nobody knows about that. Clear?” he said, wagging his finger at me.

  I gave a salute. “Got it.” I shifted my weight in bed. “So, what happened to all that crap you spouted off to me about you never making love to a cheesy love song playing in the background, huh?” I teased.

  “I made an exception for you. Besides, that song, those lyrics… they hold special meaning to us.”

  “Aww. You’re such a sweetheart.”

  “Like I said, just for you.”

  We smiled at one another, just staring for a long while, taking in the weight of his words. There really was so much between us. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It was so dear, so special to me.

  “I’m done, Mason,” I blurted out as he climbed back in beside me, before he had the chance to touch me and fire me up all over again. It really didn’t take much.

  He chuckled. “Four times your limit, Pixie?”

  “How is it not yours? Actually, it’s five, counting the bike treat.”

  “It’s called super-human stamina, Luce.”

  The next thing I knew, he was reaching out and dragging me on top of him. He tugged the sheet up to cover my nakedness. Such a sweet gesture. As both his arms wrapped around my back, holding me to him, I looked down into bright eyes and a sly smile.

  “Uh uh,” I warned.

  “Relax. I’ll show you mercy, if that’s what you really want.”

  “Is that a letdown?”

  He laughed, actually fucking laughed.

  “What?” I demanded, getting agitated when he didn’t elaborate.

  “I’m just fucking with you. I’m beat too. I was actually planning on asking you if you wanted to go to dinner with me.”

  “You bastard.” My immediate reaction was to punch him, but he had such a tight hold around me that I had no hope of breaking free. Damn him! Instead, I just chuckled. And then his words hit home. “Dinner? Like… a date?”

  “Yeah.” He beamed at me. “Like a date, Pixie.”

  “Our first?”

  “That would be true.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know yet. Hopefully, someplace where they serve a truckload of food per person, cuz I’m ravenously hungry and thirsty, to boot. I’m sure you are too. A sex marathon will do that.”

  I kissed his nipple. “I’d love to.”

  He buried his face in my hair and squeezed me to him, making me giggle.

  “Let me get us some water at least,” I said, pulling back.

  He released me, allowing me to get up, and I made my way over to my bedroom door, snatching my lilac, silk kimono off the hook and slipping it on. “Won’t be long.”

  “I take it you don’t want me out there?”

  “Once was enough,” I answered as diplomatically as possible. “I want to try to keep the peace between the two of you, Mason. Please work with me, okay?”

  He gave a half-hearted nod, grumbling something under his breath, before offering, “All right, you got it, little darlin’.”

  “Thank you,” I said, quickly, because I knew that was a big deal for him. And it was all for my benefit. To save me from feeling uncomfortable. Otherwise, he would have laid into Abi without holding back. As it was, when we’d arrived, he hadn’t hidden how pissed he currently was at her with the looks he’d fired her way, or via a couple of brutal comments he’d thrown at her, which she’d been all too quick to reciprocate. I’d had to step in swiftly to diffuse the mother of all fights and literally push Mason into my room
to separate them.

  But now he’d just agreed to stand down. For me.

  It was a huge weight off me.

  Urgh. I really wished I’d never agreed to go with her to that college party. There wouldn’t be any discourse between Abi and Mason then. Things wouldn’t be verging on beyond repair between her and Liam either. Although, it had proven to be the catalyst that had finally pushed Mason and I together. Would that have happened without the craziness of that party and all its fallout? Jeez… that’s kind of selfish thinking, isn’t it? Considering the awful consequences that it had for my roommate and for Mason’s club brother? Wow, get a grip, Lucy!

  I took one last look back at Mason, flashed him a smile and then stepped on out into the living room of the apartment, careful to close the door behind me, as I went.

  Scanning the area and listening intently, it didn’t take me long to determine that Abi wasn’t in the apartment. She had to be downstairs then, working in the coffee shop. I was off today. As luck would have it, Mason appeared to be in the same situation with the club, giving us time together. It was odd for him, because the club didn’t normally work like that. Members weren’t granted days off, per se. And Mason was usually on-call 24/7. Odd.

  I made my way into the kitchen to grab the water Mason and I so desperately needed after spending the last couple of hours in my room sweating it out of our systems through non-stop, animalistic, no-holds-barred fucking. It was a good thing I’d gone alone, because barely a minute had passed and I was already missing his touch. No, it was more than that. It was more like a craving. I was sure if we’d stayed wrapped in one another’s arms in my bed, we would’ve been going hard at it once again.

  Yanking open the fridge, I pulled two bottles of water out of the side door and gave it a soft kick closed. The chill and the refreshing condensation from the bottles against my overheated skin felt heavenly. And they were only pressed to my palms in that moment. I loosened my robe a tad and rolled one of the bottles down along my neck, to either shoulder, dipping lower to my chest. I couldn’t help moaning at the cooling relief. Ah, amazing.

  A throat cleared behind me, jolting me from my reverie. Shit!