Alamo’s deep laugh sounded behind me, but he didn’t seem to be interested in helping me, so I continued to fight with my cat.
“Just rip them out of his mouth,” Alamo directed.
“Oh, that’s helpful, Mo. Thanks,” I deadpanned. “I love those panties. They cost me almost a hundred bucks.”
“I hear you, but you really should take my advice.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“Let’s just say, I have a certain expertise in removing panties from pussies.”
“Your sexual prowess isn’t helping this particular situation, buddy, but thanks.” I gave one last tug and Scruffy let go with a hiss. I wagged my finger at him. “Bad kitty.”
He stuck his butt in the air, swished his tail, then jumped off my bed, and strolled out of the room like he ruled the world.
Dick.
I let out a sigh of resignation. “I think Willow’s been right about my cat all along.”
I dumped my underwear in my hamper and grabbed a fresh pair, but Alamo took them from my hand and kissed me. “Not done with you yet.”
“What about the bacon?”
“The bacon can wait.”
Kissing me, he lifted me onto the bed and made me forget about the bacon.
* * *
Seven hours later, I pulled open my door (Alamo had headed home to shower and change before our date), and didn’t wait for him to kiss me. I turned on my heel and rushed back to the bathroom.
“What the hell, Jasmine?” he called out as he closed the door.
I peeked my head out of the bathroom and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“You pissed?”
“At you?”
“Yeah.”
“No,” I said. “Why?”
He stalked to me and wrapped an arm around me. “You fuckin’ kiss me when I get home, Jasmine.”
I stared at him for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “Are you serious right now?”
He grinned. “Maybe?”
“You’re cute.” I patted his cheek. “We’re late and my hair is saying, ‘Fuck you, Jasmine, I have decided you will look like a demented homeless poodle.’ So, give me a few minutes to fix this and then I’ll stroke your ego and kiss you until you’re sick of me.”
“You look gorgeous, babe. Can’t fix perfect.”
“Okay, I’ll kiss you now,” I retorted, and planted a deep and thorough kiss on his mouth.
He broke the kiss with a chuckle. “You really do look beautiful, Firefly.”
“Thanks, Mo. So do you.” Dark jeans, a long-sleeved ribbed T-shirt, and motorcycle boots seriously shook my resolve not to peel him out of his clothes and fuck him for the sixth time today. I smiled, wiped off the lipstick I’d transferred onto him, then gave him a hip bump. “Go see if you can find Scruffy. He’s not talking to me, you know, because of panty-gate.”
While Alamo went to find my cat (who wasn’t actually lost, but he was definitely ignoring me), I finished up as best I could, using every trick in my arsenal of hair products to get the look I was going for. It took another twenty minutes. By which time, Alamo had flopped onto my sofa and turned on some hot rod show, after unsuccessfully growling, cajoling, and trying to bargain with me to get the ‘hell on the road.’
Once I was satisfied with my hair, I unplugged everything, then joined him in the living room. “I’m ready.”
“Thank fuck for that,” he said, flipping off the TV, and standing, jostling Scruffy who had curled up next to him.
“Does my hair look better?”
“At the risk of pissin’ you off, Jasmine, I thought it looked fine before.”
“Maybe I should change.”
He dragged his hands down his face. “Why?”
“Because these jeans are a little tight... I had to put the rubber-band thingy in the button... and the muffin top—”
“Jasmine,” he said, slow like he was trying to calm some kind of feral beast. “You are beautiful. Not sure why you’re obsessin’ about a non-existent muffin top, but you’re obesessin’ over somethin’ that’s not there. So, you can either walk that sweet ass out of this house, or I’m gonna pick you up and carry you.”
“If you think you could lift—”
“I swear to Christ, woman, if you try to make some negative remark about your weight, you and I are gonna have a problem.”
“Wow. Okay. Calm down, sheesh.”
“That’s my woman you’re talkin’ about, and no one says anything other than how beautiful she is... even if she’s the one sayin’ it, hear?”
Well, that made me feel all gooey and warm inside... like a fresh baked chocolate-chip cookie.
Damn, now I wanted a chocolate chip cookie.
Forcing away the desire for a cookie, I said, “Okay, Mo. I hear.”
He kissed me gently. “Good. Come on.”
I nodded, grabbing my purse and following him out the door. Locking up, I shrugged on my jacket as we walked to Alamo’s truck, then we were on the way to the restaurant and I was a ball of nerves.
Alamo reached over the console and linked his fingers with mine. “Baby, your family aren’t assholes, right?”
“No, they’re awesome. Well, except Jared. He can be... difficult.”
“Then what the fuck are you so scared of?”
“Honestly?” I sighed. “I’m afraid you’ll hate them and never want to see me again.”
Rolling to a stop at a stoplight, he swiveled to face me. “There is nothing that’ll make me not want to see you again, Jasmine. Maybe they don’t like me, or vice-versa, but that doesn’t touch you.”
I bit my lip. “Are you sure?”
“Damn sure.” The light turned green and he squeezed my hand, then drove through.
That made me feel a little better. To be honest, I wasn’t overly worried about them not liking Alamo, because you’d need to be a piece of shit not to like him, and my family was definitely awesome. But he was the first man I’d ever brought home, so I didn’t really know how to maneuver this introduction. My family was inclusive, with a capital ‘IN,’ and they tended to engulf you like an iron maiden (without the spikes), squeezing you until you couldn’t breathe.
Pulling up to the restaurant, Alamo turned off the truck and faced me. “Come here.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m already ‘here.’”
He released his seatbelt, then mine, and slid his hand to my neck, tugging me forward. “Now, you’re ‘here,’” he said, and kissed me.
I smiled against his lips and broke the kiss. “What was that for?”
“I can’t just kiss my woman because she’s fuckin’ gorgeous?”
“Not tonight, you can’t.”
He grinned. “Just a reminder I got your back, Jasmine.”
I stroked his beard, then ran my thumb over his bottom lip. God, I could love this man. “You are quite possibly the best human being I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “And that’s saying something, because Willow’s my best friend.”
He chuckled. “High praise, indeed.”
“We should have a safe word.”
“What for?”
“In case it’s all too much and we need a way to get out of there.”
He shook his head and climbed out of the truck, walking to my side and helping me down. Cupping my face, he stroked my cheeks. “This is going to be fine.”
“Yep.”
“Jasmine. Repeat after me. This is going to be fine.”
I nodded. “This is going to be fine.”
He grinned, kissing me again. “Damn you’re cute.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Glad I amuse you.”
“You do, baby. Very, very much.”
He laughed, taking my hand and leading me into the building.
Jasmine
I gripped Alamo’s hand as we followed the hostess to the table. In fact, I gripped his hand so hard, he leaned over and whispered, “Wanna ease up there, A
ttila?”
“Oh!” I squeaked. “Sorry.”
He chuckled, squeezing my hand gently.
“Carrots!” Jared called, and I groaned.
My stomach roiled. I hated my brother’s nickname for me. Hated it, but he seemed to glean much pleasure from calling me it, and Mom always said if I ignored him, he’d stop. He never did.
“Carrots?” Alamo said, quietly. So quietly, I was the only one who heard. “Is he fuckin’ serious?”
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
“Your body just locked, Jasmine, it’s not okay.”
“Please, Mo. It’s okay.”
He schooled his features, but his eyes burned as my brother made his way to us. I pulled away from Alamo to hug Jared. “Hey.”
“Hey, sissy.”
“This is Alamo,” I said, and Jared held his hand out.
It took a second for Alamo to respond and I was worried he would stare my brother down in the middle of the restaurant. Lucky for me, he didn’t. He shook Jared’s hand and then I made introductions to Jared’s wife Kelly, then Simon, since Alamo had already met Jules.
Alamo and I took our seats and he settled an arm over the back of my chair. This made me feel sheltered in a weird way, and I leaned against him, sliding my hand on his thigh.
“So, Alamo, what do you do?” Jared asked.
“I own Reliable Auto Repair down on Victory,” Alamo said, as he stroked my hair.
“Don’t you work for the BMW place?” Simon asked. “I’m sure I’ve seen you there before.”
Alamo nodded. “My buddy owns the BMW dealership and I help him out on occasion.”
“Do you work on more than BMWs at your shop?” Jules asked.
“Yeah. I work on everything at my shop,” Alamo said.
“So, if I had, say, a weird rattle going on in my Volvo, you could fix it?” she asked hopefully.
“You’ve taken it to three places,” Kelly said. “Everyone says there’s nothing wrong.”
“I know,” Jules said. “But I don’t believe them.”
“If you’ve got a weird rattle goin’ on, I can probably fix it,” Alamo said. “Call me next week and I’ll get you in.”
“Thanks,” Jules said.
A server arrived and took our drink orders (I ordered the biggest margarita they offered).
“So, how did you two meet?” Kelly asked.
“Willow,” I said. “Alamo and Dash are part of the same club.”
“Do you like to skate, Alamo?” Jules asked.
He grinned. “Sure.”
“Has Jazz told you her obsession with roller skating?”
Alamo chuckled. “She’s given me some idea.”
“Do you have to share all my secrets with him?” I complained. “Can we talk about something other than me, please?”
Alamo stroked the nape of my neck and I squeezed his thigh again.
Our drinks arrived, interrupting the subject of conversation (thank God), and I took two huge swigs from my margarita. Alamo leaned over and kissed my cheek, whispering, “Pace yourself, Firefly.”
I leaned over and did the same to him. “Not the boss of me, Mo.”
He grinned and took a sip of his beer.
“You know, I used to ride,” Simon said.
“Yeah?” Alamo asked.
Simon nodded. “I had a Kawasaki Ninja. I’m assuming you ride a Harley?”
“Fatboy,” Alamo provided.
“Nice,” Simon said. “I miss it.”
“Got an extra bike at the shop,” Alamo said. “You ever want to ride, let me know.”
“Nope,” Jules said. “He’s good, Alamo, but thanks.”
Simon took her hand and raised it to his mouth. “I’ll let you know.”
“No, you won’t,” she said, pulling her hand away and smoothing her napkin on her lap. “You won’t be getting back on one of those deathtraps as long as I’m alive.”
I smiled and took another sip of my drink. Juliet had met Simon in high school and they’d been inseparable ever since. She was nineteen when they got married, him twenty, and they were even more in love today. It was beautiful. Except when she convinced herself he was going to die if he wasn’t within eyesight (no joke). If he was late by five minutes, she was pacing the foyer of their home, convinced he’d been in some kind of fatal accident.
Lucky for all of us, Simon loved her brand of crazy and kept her sane, even when it sometimes seemed an impossible task.
“Are we still on for lessons tomorrow?” Kelly asked.
“Yep. It’s supposed to be cold, so the Y again?” I asked.
“Perfect. We’ll be there at three.”
Once our food arrived, conversation turned back to small talk, and I began to relax. It could have been the second (or third) margarita, but when it was time to go, I was a little unsteady on my feet.
Alamo wrapped an arm around my waist and anchored me to him. “I got you.”
“I’m fine, honey,” I said, leaning against him.
He chuckled, kissing my temple. “I can see that.”
We said goodnight to the rest of my family, then walked out to the truck.
“We survived,” I breathed out.
“We did. Your family’s cool.”
“They are. Even Jared was on his best behavior. He probably knew you’d kick his ass.”
Alamo laughed. “Not plannin’ on kickin’ your brother’s ass, baby.”
“Give it time.” I gripped his jacket and tugged him forward. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“Is that the margaritas talking?”
I shook my head. “Not even a little bit.”
His mouth covered mine and I slid my arms around his waist and up his back under his jacket. I slid my tongue against him, then forced myself to break the connection. “I’m going to insist you fuck me on the sidewalk if you keep doing that.”
Alamo laughed. “Are you telling me you’re not interested in gettin’ popped for public indecency?”
“Oh, I want to get popped, and definitely want to cover the indecency part... just maybe not in public.”
He kissed me again, running his nose against mine, then helped me into the truck. Making his way to the driver’s side, he took me home and walked me to the door.
“Are you coming in?” I asked.
“Do you want me to?”
“That’s a rhetorical question and you know it.”
He grinned, following me inside and dropping his jacket on the back of my sofa. Scruffy meowed, so Alamo picked him up and held him for a few seconds. “You want me to stay?”
“I always want you to stay.” I dropped my keys on the counter and took off my coat. “Did I make things weird?”
“Not even a little bit,” he said, turning my words back to me.
I smiled. “Beer?”
“Yeah, babe, that’d be good.”
I grabbed one from the fridge and handed it to him... I chose to stick with water. “You survived.”
“So did you.” He grinned, taking a swig.
“I drank, Mo. I’m not sure if that constitutes surviving. Self-medicating, yes... surviving, no.”
“How ya feelin’?”
“I feel great. Three margaritas will do that.”
“Four,” he countered.
I frowned. “Three.”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “Four, Jasmine. You had one with dessert.”
“Oh, right. I forgot about that one.” I wrinkled my nose. “Cheesecake doesn’t quite work with a margarita.”
“Fuckin’ cute when you’re tipsy, though.” He took another sip of beer.
“I thought you’d scare everyone.”
“Scare them, how?”
I shook off my tipsy fog. “No, scare’s not the right word. Intimidate.”
Alamo frowned. “No reason to be intimidated.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re intimidating all the same, Mo.”
He closed the distance
between us, boxing me in against the island. “I intimidate you?”
“You did when I first met you.”
“Yeah?” He kissed my neck. “How come?’
“Probably because I kind of wanted your cock inside of me.”
Alamo laughed. “The feeling was mutual.”
“You wanted your cock inside of you, too, huh?”
“I want my cock inside you right now.” He grinned, kissing me gently. “You sober enough?”
“I’m not sober enough to drive, but I’m sober enough to fuck.”
“Will you remember this in the morning?”
I stroked his beard. “I’ll remember this next year.”
“Let’s get naked, then.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I retorted and took his hand.
* * *
Alamo
I followed Jasmine to her room, kicking the door shut to keep Scruffy out. He voiced his opinion (loudly) from the other side of the door, but we ignored him. Sliding my hand to her neck, I tugged her forward, covering her mouth with mine. Fuck me, she tasted like tequila and lime and I couldn’t get enough.
Virtually ripping her shirt off, I cupped her lace-covered breasts, then tugged the material down and rolled her nipples into tight buds.
She whimpered, dropping her head back and pressing further into my hands. Her quiet mews egged me on and I unhooked her bra, dropping it to the floor. Fuck, once her tits were free, I nearly came. Her body was my temptation... her skin my Achilles heel. “Gorgeous, baby.”
“Back atya.” She focused on me with hooded eyes and licked her lips. “I need you naked.”
I chuckled, kissing her quickly, then we separated briefly to remove our clothing. “Leave the panties,” I said.
She did as I ordered, and I guided her onto the bed, sliding my hands up her thighs and ripping the thin strip of lace keeping me from her pussy.
She gasped. “That’s two pairs of panties I’ve lost because of you.”
“I’ll buy you more,” I promised, and cupped her mound before sliding my fingers into her.
She rocked against my palm and dropped her head back again, which gave me access to her neck and I took full advantage. Kissing my way down her body, I sucked a nipple into my mouth, then the other, biting gently as I felt her soak my hand.
“I can’t wait, Alamo,” she rasped.
Stealing the Biker's Heart (Dogs of Fire: Savannah Chapter, #2) Page 10