GetOn

by Regina Cole

  Garrett took care of business at the desk while Mia hung back slightly. The transaction was completed so fast, a quick swipe of his credit card and the passing of plastic keycards. Less than three minutes later, they’d left the lobby and were walking up the stairs to room 215.

  “Here we go,” Mia said, slipping the plastic card into the slot. “Home sweet…home.”

  Garrett looked over her shoulder and bit back his laugh. One bed. One king-sized bed in the center of the room.

  Mia whirled, her brows narrowed, color high in her cheeks. Garrett raised both his hands to ward off the big storm that was most definitely coming.

  “I didn’t do this,” Garrett said, backing away and keeping his amusement under on a tight leash. “The guy didn’t ask what kind of room, you heard everything I said. I’ll go back and get the room changed…”

  Mia deflated. Going from red-hot rage one minute to utter defeat, she just sort of sagged where she stood.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t do this. Hell, I owe you huge. You saved my ass from the cops and you’re putting me up for the night.” She moved a step closer, the deep green of her eyes looking dangerously wet. “Thank you, Garrett. Sincerely. Thanks.”

  An invisible rope twined around him, an urge he couldn’t place and didn’t fight. It pulled him down, bending low until he could capture her lips. She gasped, and he took advantage of her parted lips, tasting her. God, she was sweet, soft and wet, and he could only dream of how the rest of her would feel. But then he remembered himself and straightened.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He waited for her to slap him but she didn’t. He waited for her to yell, to rail at him, but she kept silent. She raised her hand to her lips and touched them softly.

  “I’ve got to make a few calls,” Garrett said. He tossed his leather jacket on the chair by the window. He didn’t imagine the way Mia stared at his defined arms, and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t pleased. Good. She was just as turned-on by him as he was by her. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  Pocketing the second keycard, Garrett stepped onto the open walkway in front of their room. When the door clicked shut behind him, he dragged in a deep breath, gripping the metal handrail and staring out over the half-empty parking lot.

  Good god, he was horny. And she was hot. And that kiss had made his cock stand up like nothing had in a damn long time. But he was a gentleman, and he wouldn’t take advantage of her.

  No matter how fucking much he wanted to.

  He shook his head to clear it and pulled his cell from his pocket. Leaning against the railing, he brought up his contacts and tapped on Trent’s name.

  “Where the hell have you been?” his best friend answered halfway through the first ring. “Reg is in custody for questioning, and Quentin and I are back at the house. I’ve been calling you for an hour, man.”

  “Relax,” Garrett said, “I’m fine. Just took a little detour to avoid the roadblocks. In Riverville now, riding out the night in a hotel.”

  “Thank god,” Trent said. Quentin’s low growl of a voice came through the background. “Hey, Q says he saw someone on the bike with you when you left. What’s that about?”

  “Just a damsel in distress.” Garrett glanced through the small crack in the curtains but he couldn’t see her. “I’m doing my good deed for the day, that’s all. Her ride left her, so I let her come with me. I’ll drop her back home tomorrow.”

  “If Q saw the two of you, someone else might have too. We’ll do some checking. If the cover’s blown, we’ll need to do some work.”

  “True. Let me know. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  Garrett ended the call and turned to look out at the deserted street in front of the hotel. He’d been so close today, close to seeing Ford in person for the first time since Priscilla’s death. He had to press his advantage. Tomorrow he’d follow up on some other tips, try to get some hard evidence. But it wouldn’t be easy. Arthur Ford Jr. had been doing this for a while now, and he didn’t leave too many leads. Especially since the big bust. He was extra careful now, so Garrett would have to be extra diligent.

  A breeze played up then, and Garrett gripped the railing. What the hell would he do when he’d finished this job? Revenge had consumed his life for so long, he hadn’t really given it a thought. But the parking lot didn’t hold any answers, even after staring at it for a long time.

  Turning to the hotel room door, he allowed himself a smile. Maybe it wasn’t so hard to think of living after all.

  The little light on the lock flashed green as he swiped his card, and he pushed the door open. But two steps into the hotel room, he stopped.

  Mia was lying on top of the cream-colored blanket, bare feet tucked together, knees drawn up tight. Sound asleep.

  He stepped to her side, jammed his hands in his pockets and looked his fill. Curves, curves, more curves and curls. That was Mia. Her tanned skin looked even darker against the lightness of the blanket beneath her. He wasn’t exactly sure what her heritage was, but in the dimness she looked exotic. The patterned comforter was balled up at the foot of the bed, as if she’d kicked it there. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, and her dark lashes dusted her cheeks.

  He wanted her. And the way she’d looked at him earlier, the way she’d looked after they’d kissed, he was sure she wanted him too.

  He rounded the bed, pulled off his boots and leather pants, and lay on his side of the bed, alone. He wasn’t the kind of guy who touched a sleeping woman. And even though his cock was throbbing with want, he laced his fingers over his belly and stared at the ceiling.

  Maybe tomorrow he could get to know her better. And maybe then, they could see where things led.

  Maybe.

  But as she turned and snuggled up against him, he wondered if he could last that long.

  Chapter Four

  Mia was riding on the back of Garrett’s bike, the wind whipping around her head as she clung tightly to him. The bike weaved in and out of a huge line of cars. Mia looked behind them, and the blue Bugatti was catching up. Her heart raced and she clung tighter to him. They had to win, just had to.

  “Go, Garrett,” she yelled, her heart thumping faster with the excitement of the race. “Come on, baby, let’s go!”

  He revved the engine at her encouragement and they shot forward, past the crowds of people at the finish line. When they crossed it, a full second before the Bugatti, Mia screamed with joy.

  The bike swerved to a stop, and Garrett leapt from the back and gathered Mia in his arms, kissing her passionately. She responded hungrily, her own tongue searching his open mouth, her hands greedily roaming his muscles. Her stomach twisted as hunger shot through her, the tender space between her thighs swelling and throbbing. She ran her hand lower, over the soft cotton barrier that hid his thick erection.

  She slipped her fingers inside and gripped hot, hard flesh.

  And then her eyes flew open.

  It was almost completely dark, with only a thin beam of yellow light spilling from the bathroom.

  The hotel bathroom. The hotel she’d entered with Garrett.

  Whose cock was currently in her hand.

  “Mia,” he rasped, raising his hips a little. “Are you sure?”

  She blinked hard, trying to clear the fog from her brain. Had he come on to her in her sleep?

  Wait a minute, she was on his side of the bed. Wrapped around him as if he were a hot dog and she the bun. And he was lying rigid, both hands fisted at his sides while she basically rubbed up on him as though he were a stripper pole.

  Well, shit. But now that the lid had popped off that can, she wasn’t about to stuff the feelings back inside. She was hungry, and it had been too long since she’d done this. And—she squeezed his thick flesh gently—he seemed to be eager to continue.

  “I’m sure if you’re sure,” she said, reaching over him to turn on the light. She bent down, kissing him deep and slow, stroking him at the same tempo
. He groaned and his hips pushed forward again, encouraging her to deepen the caress. She obliged him, cupping his length in her palm and moving up and down. His tongue entered her mouth—hot, wet sweeps that made her purr with want. Her pussy was throbbing hard now, even harder than it had been in her dream. She rubbed the head of his cock, smiling inwardly at the drop of wetness at the tip.

  He wanted her too, pretty badly it seemed.

  She wanted to swing her leg over him, straddle him, hold him down and tease him until he couldn’t take it anymore, but she’d apparently overestimated his patience. When she’d put one leg in the air, he pounced, using her precarious position to tip her onto her back.

  “God, Mia,” he said, pinning her to the bed and staring at her with those beautiful pale eyes, “you’re driving me crazy.”

  She bucked against him and he groaned.

  “If you don’t want this, you’d better tell me now. I can’t take much more.”

  He held her by her upper arms, his legs on either side of hers. She looked down, and his erection had slipped out of the flap of his boxers. He was thick, long and hard, hanging there like ripe fruit, ready to be devoured.

  She lifted her knee toward her chest and used her foot to caress that beautiful, dark head. “I would have thought what I wanted was obvious, biker boy.” She raised her head toward his as much as she could. “Fuck me. Hard.”

  He took her mouth in a savage kiss, so roughly he might have bruised her. This man, this stranger, was taking her exactly how she loved it, and she couldn’t help but delight in it. Their tongues tangled, hands everywhere, almost as much of a fight as it was a fuck. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head to the side, allowing him access to her neck. She moaned as he kissed the tender skin, then squealed when he bit.

  “If I’m too rough,” he paused to bite her again, “you’d better tell me fast. Because this is how I like it, Mia.”

  “It’s how I like it too.” She raked her nails down his back, pouting at the fabric that dulled her efforts. “But you’ve got too many clothes on.”

  “So do you.” He yanked her shirt up and over her head, tossing it aside. He did the same with his, and Mia caught her breath at the sight of him.

  The tattoos on his arm she’d admired before, when he’d lost the jacket. A new-school rendition of a gearhead’s passion, with flames, spark plugs and machinery done in an almost graffiti style covered his left arm. On his chest was a shield, a banner below stating “Protect and Serve”. But while the ink was lovely, it was definitely second place to the man himself.

  He wasn’t just strong, he was fucking cut. Mia ran her hands down his abs, reveling in the structured muscle. Good god, she’d never been with a guy who looked like this under his clothes. He must work out for a few hours every day to look this good.

  But then she glanced downward at her own body. With her shirt off, there was nothing to conceal the extra pounds around her middle. She wasn’t obese, but she could stand to lose a little weight. She sure as hell wasn’t a physical match for the man above.

  Disappointment flooded her. Shit. Now she was going to lose this beautiful experience, and it was all because he looked better than she did.

  “Mia,” he commanded, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes. “Look at me.”

  She did. She had to. How could she not?

  “I don’t know what just happened in your head, but tell me this. Do you want me?”

  “Yes,” she said as the lust—which hadn’t died a moment earlier, just hid from the shame of her body—returned with a rush.

  “Then let me see you. All of you.”

  Her cheeks heated but she sat up, removing her bra, then unbuttoning her capris and shoving them down her legs. Her panties followed and she sat there, reclining on her elbows beneath him, her body bare.

  “Here I am,” Mia said as her hungry gaze turned to him. “Now it’s your turn. Show me.”

  Garrett wasn’t stupid. It had been painfully obvious what Mia was thinking when she’d looked at her own body after staring at his abs.

  He’d never met a woman who was happy about her appearance, and he knew, to Mia, he probably looked like a workout freak. He trained to keep his stress level down, and sometimes that turned into long hours at the gym. And she was beautiful, round and soft and full in all the right places. He’d be damned if he let her get into that headspace.

  It had no place in his bed.

  He straightened on his knees, still straddling her legs. He only wore his boxers, and she’d taken the liberty of freeing his cock from its confinement earlier. Her hungry gaze devoured his erection, and it was with some reluctance that he moved to stand beside the bed.

  She fell back against the pillows. “Where are you going?”

  “You want me naked, don’t you?” He slid the boxers down his legs, his masculine pride swelling when she gasped.

  “Mmmm-hmm.” She bit her lip and her hands began roaming her own body as she watched. “Yes, thank you. I’ll have one of those.”

  Garrett retrieved the pants he’d dropped on the floor and rummaged in the pockets. Grabbing his wallet, he freed one of the condoms he kept tucked there for emergencies. Fortunately, he’d refreshed his old stock not long ago. Tossing the foil packet onto the bed, he moved closer to watch her.

  She cupped one large breast in her hand, squeezing it lightly. The other moved down her belly, past the jewel winking from her bellybutton, past the tattoo cresting her thigh, to the small landing strip of curls and lower, until he could see the glint of something shining there.

  “Mia,” he asked as his cock jumped at the thought, “are you pierced?”

  She nodded, a positively evil smile curling her lips. “I am. Want to see?”

  “Hell yes.” He knelt at the end of the bed and she parted her knees, watching as he took in the decadent sight she offered.

  “Holy shit.”

  She was beautiful. Drop-dead gorgeous. The petals of her body, dewy and glistening, unfolded at his gaze. And there at the apex, just above the tempting little nub of her clit, was a silvery ring, the pink bead shining at him like the crown jewels. It seemed to beckon, call him forward, and who was he to say no?

  His hands shot out and grasped her thighs, jerking her hips to the edge of the bed. And then, without warning, he began his sensuous attack. Lips, tongue, teeth, he employed them all, being gentle and fierce by turns, suckling that tempting ring and then moving lower, probing her depths with his tongue, calming her cries and her twisting hips by slowing his forays, then torqueing her up by nipping at the sensitive bud of her clit.

  “Garrett, oh fuck, Garrett,” she moaned, grabbing at his hands, his head, anything she could reach. He looked up to see her back arching, caught her gaze to find her pupils dilated. She was going to come, and come hard.

  But not yet.

  Ripping his face away, he stood and grabbed the condom. With shaking fingers, he tore the wrapper open and rolled it on. She scooted back on the bed without having to be told, and he smiled inside. What a good girl. He should spank her for that.

  Maybe later.

  She raised her arms as she begged him, and he didn’t withhold. He fell atop her, let her taste herself on his mouth, and it seemed to make her even wilder as she bucked beneath him. Her pussy was so hot, so wet from his mouth and her own response, and his cock was so full it felt close to bursting.

  He had to fuck her, and he had to do it now.

  Raising himself up on his arms, he looked into her eyes. She panted with longing, her hair everywhere, her eyes begging him, pleading not to make her suffer anymore.

  “Garrett,” she moaned, lifting her hips in supplication. “Please.”

  With one deep thrust, he entered her, and they both cried out in pleasure. Damn, she was small, tight around his cock as he thrust. The pressure was exquisite, as if her body was trying to wring him dry. And he was only too happy to let it.

  Her nails raked his back, the tender pa
in only encouraging him to thrust harder and faster. She bit his shoulder, he pulled her hair, both of them seeking tiny ways to dominate the other, rush that peak that was so close it nearly drove him mad.

  But when Mia’s cries grew louder, more frequent, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust, he withdrew.

  “What the fuck?” she yelled, almost sobbing. “I was so fucking close!”

  “Turn over,” he said, ripping the case off one of the pillows.

  “What?”

  “I said turn over,” he snapped, and smacked her hip with a cupped hand. She glared at him but did as he said, kneeling in front of him on all fours.

  “Hot damn,” he hissed, running a hand over her ample ass. “And I thought you looked good from the front.”

  “Shut up and fuck me,” she growled like an angry animal. “Now.”

  Garrett had never been one to ignore the command from a horny woman. Positioning himself just behind her, he entered her body—and nearly lost himself right there. She’d been a tight fit before, but in this position? She was squeezing his cock so tightly he saw stars.

  But he wanted more, and so did she. So that’s what they’d get.

  He twisted the pillowcase into a short rope and passed it beneath her hips. Holding one end in each hand, he used the makeshift sling to pull himself deeper. Slower at first, then faster, then a pace that had Mia nearly sobbing as his hips smacked against her ass, his cock moving deeper and deeper inside her, the sling pulling her back onto him.

  “Garrett, please, please let me come!”

  He ripped the sling away and reached beneath her, maneuvering that little ring and the hard, throbbing clit beneath. Mia screamed, bucking hard as her orgasm crested over them. At her body’s shudders and movements, Garrett lost control, pouring himself deep inside her body. His muscles trembled as he knelt there, trying to keep his heart from thumping out of his chest.

  Mia’s soft cries faded and her upper body fell to the bed, face muffling in the pillow.

  “Holy shit.”

  Garrett withdrew from her reluctantly, falling to the side. “You said it.”