by Siobhan Muir
“I think I’ve missed something. What does wearing a patch really mean to you?”
“It means you’re my partner, someone I share secrets and dreams with, and you know, sex and stuff.” Scott frowned as he tried to find words to explain. “The property patch isn’t really an ownership thing for me, but it does save time with the other men trying to hit on you when you’re already taken.”
I rolled my eyes. “That means they still fear reprisals from you more than respecting me for telling them no.”
He grimaced and nodded. “Yeah, this world is fucked up like that. But what does it matter what other people think when you and I know the truth?”
“I wish it was that easy, Scott. But I’ve learned otherwise. I knew the truth about what happened to me at the FBI, and I lost my job because of what other people thought.” I waved the depressing thoughts away. “That part doesn’t matter, and you wearing my property patch won’t affect your job, or mine, but the experience is pretty bitter.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess I hadn’t thought of that.” He sighed. “Here’s the thing. You said no one believed you, that they believed the lie. But if our definition of the property patch is shared by me and you, that’s two against the others, and they can go fuck themselves.”
He met my gaze with an earnestness and vulnerability I’d never seen in him before.
“I don’t want to be with anyone else, Numbers. When Melrose brought you to the compound, I thought you were just another biker groupie. When I realized you really didn’t want to be there, I started to pay attention.” He grimaced. “Yeah, I’m a jackass, I know. But you were more than just a honey looking for some biker cock and it made me take notice. Hanging out with you and having you around this past week has been good. Better than good. The best week in a long fuckin’ time. But it made me realize I don’t want you to leave. I wanna see you every day and talk about numbers or pool or whatever. I want to belong to you. Hell, I’m pretty sure I do already. And I’m pretty sure you belong with me. So whadya say?”
While it wasn’t the most elegant of declarations, it still warmed my heart and made my world a little brighter.
“Would you really wear a patch on your cut that says Property of Numbers?”
“Hell yeah.” He reached out and grasped my hand. “I know Loki’s deal with you sucks, that he weaseled his way into something he shouldn’t. But I’d wear your patch and lose at pool every chance I get if you’d stay and be my woman.”
I glanced down at his hands wrapped around mine and let that idea roll around in my head. I’d disdained Mel for going out with a biker because their relationship always seemed to suck. I wasn’t wrong about them, but I didn’t think my relationship with Scott would be the same. For all his rough edges, I liked him. He was honorable and kind and generous in his own way. And he’d definitely make my forced residence in the Concrete Angels much better.
“Okay, Scott. It’s a deal. So help me load up my shit and we’ll take it back to the compound.”
“Fuck yeah!” He roared the phrase as he pulled me close for a hard kiss. “Best fuckin’ news I’ve heard in weeks. Let’s get your shit.”
I laughed as he released me and we got out of the van. My heart felt lighter, too, and I shook my head at the craziness of life. Falling for a rough biker like Scott seemed way outside my purview, but now that I had, I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it. I pulled my keys out of my purse as we headed for the door, him jogging up the stairs with a bounce in his step.
“Do you have boxes?” He waited for me to put the key in door.
I shook my head. “I have plastic totes instead. Easier to pack up and move if I had to.”
Regret washed over his face. “I guess that’s good, right?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, it’ll make this move easier.”
I started to push the door open, but he stopped me. “Hold on just a second.” He dug something out of his pocket that looked like a thick magic wand. It had a power button on the handle and two little lightbulbs on the blunt end.
“What’s that?”
“Bug and camera detector. Viper made it. Works great.” He waved it at the front room of my apartment. “We’ll check it over to make sure there aren’t any.”
“You think someone’s bugged my apartment?” The idea repulsed and infuriated me. What the fuck?
“No, I’m makin’ sure it’s not.”
But we weren’t that lucky. To my horror, we found a camera in my kitchen and another in my bedroom, and audio bugs in both, plus the living room. Thank goodness I hadn’t had any sexual partners to my place since I’d moved there.
“Damn, Numbers, someone’s keepin’ tabs on you.” Scott collected the little surveillance devices and threw them into one of my old sunglasses cases, zipping it shut. “I’m gonna take these out to the van.”
I wanted to smash the offending little things, but he whisked them away before I could say anything. The less I say the better, I guess. Who would be targeting me for surveillance? I couldn’t imagine the FBI wanted to know where I was after I’d left them. Yeah, I’d signed a nondisclosure agreement for the top secret stuff I’d worked on, but I didn’t think they’d care beyond that. I wasn’t a field agent so I didn’t know what kind of equipment they used, but I knew they had the capability.
I scowled and headed for my closets, a shiver ripping through me. My own home, my place of sanctuary, wasn’t safe. Whoever was watching and listening had violated it. At the moment, my cabin at the Concrete Angels’ compound sounded a helluva lot better. I knew that wasn’t bugged. I’d checked regularly.
I should’ve checked here, too.
I threw my clothes into my suitcases and my few knickknacks into my totes, fury growing by the minute. Scott came back in and helped me clear out most of the bedroom and master bath, but as I tore at the bed, he caught my hands.
“Whoa, wait, hold on there.” He met my furious gaze and tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? Someone fucking bugged my home and watched me. What do you think is wrong?”
“But we found them, and they haven’t had anything to watch for over a week, right?” He turned me until I faced him. “I have them in a dark, quiet spot until we get back to the compound. I bet Neo can backtrack and find out where they’re sending the information. Then we can find out who it was.”
“You know the FBI has gear like that.”
He nodded. “The NSA, too. Most of the federal alphabet agencies do. But right now, I’m not worried about them.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”
“Nope. I’m more concerned with making you feel good.”
I blinked. “What?”
He crowded me back toward the bed with a sexy, predatory look. If it had been anyone else, I’d have panicked. But I knew I was safe with Scott, even when my knees hit the end of the bed.
“Before we strip the bed, I think we should put it to good use. Nobody’s around, no one can hear us who knows us, and it’s been too long since I’ve made you feel good. So whadaya say?”
It took me a few moments to understand what he proposed, but when it became clear, I expected panic and an extreme need to get away. But the only emotions I felt were arousal and need and lust. Apparently, my subconscious mind trusted Scott.
“You want to make love to me?”
“I want to make love with you. It ain’t fun for me if you’re not having fun.”
I grimaced. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, but I want it clear that while I might like hot, rough sex, I don’t do it without consent.” He ran his hands up my arms until he cupped my face. “Your pleasure is more important to me than blowing my wad. I can do that anytime. So how ’bout I feast on that pussy of yours and make you come hard?”
“Okay.” It was an inane answer, but I didn’t see the need to argue. I’d experienced his cunnilingus before and there was no way in hell I’d say no to it now.
“Hell y
eah. Let me take care of you, Oriana.” He knelt at my feet with a hungry grin. “Have I told you I love it when you wear these short pants? They’re fuckin’ sexy on your ass and legs.”
He peeled off my capris in a slow reveal that made me shiver. I thanked my lucky stars they had a stretchy waist. Not only did they hug my hips in an elegant curve, but they came off in a sexy slide without resistance.
“Oh, fuck yeah, you wore satin and lace.”
They were an old pair of panties I’d found in the clearance bin at that fancy underwear shop at the mall and I’d bought them to make myself feel sexy. I’d never expected someone would care if I wore them, but Scott hummed and growled as he slid his fingers over their surface. The front had red satin with black lace trim and little plastic rhinestones. The butt panel, however, was all black lace.
Scott ran his hands over the lace and moaned. “Fuck me, those are the sexiest panties I’ve ever seen.”
I raised my eyebrows. “They are?”
“Oh yeah. They show off your pretty pussy and the crack of your ass even while you’re “covered.” It’s erotic as hell.” He skimmed his fingers under the lace on my ass and squeezed. “It covers you without hiding anything.”
I rested my hands on his shoulders as he met my gaze, his fingers still caressing my butt. “Do you like what you see?”
“Hell yeah.” He leaned forward and kissed my satin-covered mound. “I also like what I smell.”
I blinked. “You can smell me?”
“Yup, and it’s like Palisade Peaches and cream.” He inhaled and closed his eyes. “Damn, so sweet and tasty. I can’t wait to lick your pussy again.”
I pushed back from him and scrambled onto the bed. “You want to taste it? Bring it on. I’ve missed your tongue.” I had no idea where the boldness came from, but I liked watching Scott’s eyes flare with arousal when I gave it to him.
He growled, I kid you not, and whipped his cut and T-shirt over his head. I didn’t have much time to admire the heavily muscled chest with dark hair arrowing down his abs to his jeans. The image stayed in my mind as he kicked off his boots and crawled onto the bed to push his shoulders between my knees.
“Let’s peel these sexy panties off you and save them. I’m wanna see them on you again.” He pulled the elastic off my hips and down my legs then brought the scrap of satin and lace to his nose. “Damn, those smell good. I’ll put them in my pocket for safe-keeping.”
He stuffed the cloth in to his back pocket and I laughed.
“You’re gonna let me put those back on when we’re done, right?”
He winked. “We’ll see. Now, lie back and let me get to work.”
I smirked. “What, no foreplay and teasing?”
“No time for that, darlin’. We gotta get you packed up and the warehouse cleared out before the FBI comes lookin’. I don’t want them anywhere near my woman.”
“I’m your woman now, am I?”
He raised his head to meet my gaze without his usual smirk. “Yeah, Oriana. You’re mine, as much as I’m yours. No ifs, ands, or buts.”
I believed him. It wasn’t logical, but this cocky biker had won my heart by backing me up, sticking with me, and never giving up on me. Most guys had walked away when I freaked out, but Scott didn’t seem to have “quit” in his vocabulary.
“Okay.” There was that lame word again, but I’d gotten so choked up, it was the best I could manage.
He grinned and squeezed my hips before he dipped his head and licked my slit. My eyes rolled back in my head at the hot ticklish sensations he delivered. He moaned into my sensitive flesh and I answered him with my own. I’d never met a man so skilled with his tongue and I wasn’t letting him go.
Scott wrapped his arms around my thighs and used his fingers to peel apart my nether lips. Hot, wet pleasure pulsed through me as he slid his tongue between my folds and rubbed my clit. I’d given myself pleasure before, but nothing came close to Scott sucking on my clit. He hummed and the vibration sparked my arousal.
In addition to the building orgasm, a new feeling grew in my chest. Something warmer and fuller than lust, more potent than desire. It had shades of trust and awareness as well as a splash of hope and acceptance.
Is this what love feels like? I’d read about it in romance novels. I’d seen examples in movies and TV shows. But I hadn’t experienced it from another person outside of family, and even theirs had been conditional.
My heart filled with this feeling as Scott built up my pleasure with his clever tongue. He licked my slit as he pressed one of my legs to the bed. He skimmed his hand along my inner thigh, splintering my thoughts with zings of pleasure.
“Oh, glory, Scott. I love it when you do this.”
He hummed his approval and worked a finger into my pussy, flicking my clit with his tongue. I whimpered and tightened my hands in the sheets. He thrust his hand slowly, scraping against my g-spot with inexorable pressure. I wriggled my hips, trying to get closer to his finger, but he pulled it away and licked my folds.
I moaned and rocked my hips, harder, and he pulled his head away. “What do you want, Oriana?”
“More, harder.”
“More like this?” He inserted a second finger, stretching my tight sheath.
“Yes, oh, glory, yes.” I tried to match his rhythm, but I wanted faster and he kept it steady. “Please, Scott. I need faster.”
He chuckled. “I’ll give it to you, but I want you to come hard, and the steady rhythm will make it last longer.”
I couldn’t argue with that, but the delicious tickling of his tongue on my nether lips and clit revved me up until I wanted more. He thrust his fingers deep into my pussy, curling them just enough to scrape my g-spot. Each time made me gasp and arch into his touch.
I want this all the time.
The thought pushed through the building orgasm, propelling me deeper into the surging pleasure. When Scott sucked hard on my clit, thrusting his hand at the same time, I was a goner. My arousal broke over me in shooting wave, flooding my awareness with ecstasy and a need for more. More pleasure, more intimacy, more Scott.
I’d never been sexually aggressive, even before my rape, but this orgasm ignited a need to roll him over and ride him hard. I wanted to see him go all soft and boneless with pleasure himself.
Scott hummed his approval of my release, lapping it up as if he couldn’t get enough. I lay there and panted as he lifted his head away, wiping his mouth. A satisfied smirk curled his lips as he crawled up the bed to lie beside me. That’s my cocky biker.
But I wasn’t going to lie around. He had a lovely stiff shaft that needed tending and I wanted its attention. I rolled over on top of him, pressing his cock between my breasts as I licked my lips. His eyes widened and the smirk faded as I wriggled between his legs.
“That was wonderful and I like my pussy licked. But now I need your hard cock. You got a condom on you?”
“Fuck yeah.” His voice came out like he’d chewed a mouthful of gravel. “In the back pocket of my jeans.”
I slid backward off the bed, my pussy aching for more, and he growled as my breasts dragged against his shaft. I laughed but I wasn’t interested in taking any more time than he wanted to wait. My hot lover watched me with his desire flaring in his eyes as I sauntered to his jeans, bent over with my ass facing him, and pulled the condom packets from the pocket. The man comes prepared. He’d brought three condoms and I liked his Boy Scout style.
I stood up, waving the packets. “Optimistic, aren’t you?”
“Hell yeah. I didn’t want to be unprepared if you gave me the chance.” He grinned.
I tore one off the strip and opened it as I returned to the bed. “I like a man who knows what he wants and has the equipment ready.” I grasped his cock and massaged it with my hand before I rolled the condom on. “And your equipment is just the kind I like.” I swung my leg over his hips, gazing down at him for a few moments.
His beauty took my breath away. The heavy slabs of mus
cle on his chest gave way to his cobbled abs, and the “happy trail” leading straight to his groin. I loved the strength in his neck and shoulders, and the smoky arousal in his green eyes. The trimmed beard and short hair on his head framed a face as rugged as it was beautiful, and I reached out to run my hand down his bearded cheek.
“I’m going to ride you, Scott, enjoying your rigid cock in my pussy until I can’t hold back anymore.” His gaze intensified on me with my words. “I’m going to enjoy these hard muscles between my legs like I did your bearded face on my pussy. I want you to fuck me slow and deep because I want to remember this when the panic gets to me. I want to overwrite those old memories with new ones.”
“Then let me be your editor and we’ll revise your sexy story.” He grasped my hips as I pointed his cock toward my pussy. “I want to be the only one you remember.”
I wanted that, too. I sank down on his dick and we both moaned as I seated him all the way to his balls. I met his fiery green gaze and liked the intensity I could read in his expression.
“Holy shit, you’re tight, Oriana.”
I moaned. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“Fuck yeah, it’s good. It’s gonna be even better when you move. Fuck me slow and deep, darlin’.”
His words turned me on, but the pleasurable friction between my legs pushed my arousal higher as I rose up and sank back down. He rocked his hips, matching my rhythm, and met my gaze with an anticipatory smile.
“Good glory, ride me, Oriana. Fuck, that’s so sexy.”
I braced my hands on his hard chest, enjoying the motion of his muscles under them. I loved the wet sounds of me sliding off him and the delicious thumps when we came together. I loved the contrast of his inked skin along my thigh, the dark lines flexing with his motions.
Glory, that’s sexy.
Sweat showed at his temples, wetting the dark hair, and his nipples hardened to sharp little points under my hands. I wanted to lean down to lick them, but I wasn’t that flexible and I didn’t want to lose connection with his thick cock.
“Oh glory, Scott. It feels so good. I love fucking your cock.” I meant every word as my arousal built with each thrust and retreat.