He snaked his arm around her waist, then trailed it up her spine, stopping only when he gripped her neck and brought her face millimeters from his. His hooded, dark eyes snared hers. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, baby.” His voice dripped with emotion. He crushed his lips against hers, pressing her chest against his until her nipples hardened and puckered against every ridge of muscle lining it.
With his tongue tormenting her mouth, she gripped the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head. Having to break away from his lips, her eyes feasted his chest.
She’d been right. He was carved from stone. Bulging muscles lined every inch of him. His shoulders were big, wide, and strong, his pecs firm, the muscles on his back that protruded his sides clearly visible from where she sat on his lap. And his abs, Jesus, his abs were sculpted, even sitting up they were defined. Near his hips was the sexiest muscle on a male body, the pelvic muscle near the waist, shaped in a V. On his left side, under his arm, he had a large tattoo that stretched from under his arm to his waist. She couldn’t see it clearly, but she wanted to know what it was and what it meant.
He was perfect, so she couldn’t help trail her fingers down his chest, tracing the outline of his abs, and pelvic muscle. She pressed her lips against his chest and licked her way to his abs.
He dug his fingers in her hair and trailed them down until he gripped her under the arms and roughly hauled her up, her face inches from his, his expression ravished with lust. “Killing me.”
The breath rushed out of her. Oh, God. Was that what he meant every time he said those words?
He didn’t give her a chance to think about it for long. His hand pressed to her neck, pulling her lips against his again for another searing kiss that left her trembling. Running his hand up the inside of her thigh, he reached her core and rubbed her through the thin cotton of her shorts. She shuddered, moaning loudly.
His cock jerked under her. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”
His words egging her on, her body pulsed. She panted, silently begging him to take her.
He threaded his fingers inside her jaw-string shorts, and then he pushed her underwear aside. His thumb stroked the length of her core. Her hips bucked. Her back arched, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“Like it, Allie?”
She couldn’t talk, so she nodded.
Jace buried his face in her neck, sucking and licking the sensitive flesh. He rubbed her clit once then twice. Her hips bucked each time, grinding against his fingers.
He groaned, then his mouth was on hers again, teasing and taunting, and then he bit her bottom lip. “I’m going to make you come, and when you come, you’re gonna scream my name.”
She wanted that too, but she couldn’t speak. Again, all she managed to do was nod.
Suddenly, he stood. Her legs wrapped around him as he walked toward her room. In one swift movement, he released her legs. One arm around her waist holding her, he ripped her shorts and thong off, with the other. He then laid her on the bed, his lips glued to hers, his hand at her core.
Then he was gone. The heat of his lips still on her mouth, but he was gone, working his way down her body. Heat lingered on each spot his lips touched, neck, breasts, stomach, hips, but then it too—gone.
Gripping her hips, he roughly pulled her. Her heated flesh met his mouth. A startled gasp escaped her, pleasure pulsing through every pore. Her legs closed on his head instinctively. He reached under her legs, grasped her inner thighs, and pulled them apart. Holding her in place, he delved in, sucking, licking, devouring her.
He was skilled, beyond skilled. It was hard and rough, and had her screaming in seconds. She couldn’t see, couldn’t think but knew Jace gave her that intense pleasure, and she never wanted him to stop.
She dug her fingers into his hair and ground against his mouth. He lightly bit her clit, shoved his finger inside her, and then she was gone, arching her back and screaming his name.
When the high faded, he licked her one last time from top to bottom, savoring her taste. She gripped his hair, hauled him toward her until her lips met his. She tasted herself in his mouth and loved it, loved it so much she knew she’d be happy to taste it every day for the rest of her life.
She reached for his belt, unbuckled it, then drew away from his lips to whisper, “Take me.”
His dark eyes, locked on hers, softened so much it ignited a searing ache inside her—the same ache she read in his eyes. She didn’t know what it meant, but she knew he couldn’t help it.
Then he did something else, something she never imagined. He trailed his fingers down her face in a soft, tender caress. He stayed there for endless moments. Then he got off her. Standing, he pulled a condom from his wallet, removed his jeans and boxers, and let her take her fill.
Beautiful, all of him. His shaft standing at attention, he wasn’t big. He was huge, so huge she didn’t know if he’d fit her.
She met his eyes. “I don’t know if it’ll fit.” Her cheeks flamed.
He smiled his amazing smile. “It’ll fit, baby. It’ll fit perfectly.”
Ripping the condom wrapper open with his teeth, he rolled it on. Not a moment later, his body was poised over hers, his gaze holding hers hostage.
In that single moment of time, the panic set in. She wanted him. She’d wanted him since the moment she met him but knew nothing would ever come of them. Her brother warned her about bikers, and still, she couldn’t find the strength to say no. As reckless as it was, even if just for one night, she wanted him.
But he hesitated, so she said, “It’s okay. I know it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t have to warn me.”
His eyes darkened, the same ache shining through when he whispered, “It means something to me, Allie.”
He said it so tenderly, her heart tightened. Hopelessly and maybe foolishly, she believed him.
His lips claimed her. Soft and thoroughly, he kissed her. One hand buried in her hair, the other wrapped around his shaft. The kiss intensified. He pushed himself against her core, filling her slowly until completely immersed in her.
He was right.
He fit.
He fit her, perfectly.
Chapter Eighteen
Hovering over her, his eyes locked on hers, his dick buried in her tightness, he fucking knew he’d been right. He’d been so right about her, about everything about her.
From one look, he’d known, and the knowledge of it ravished him because he’d never have her fully, completely.
For her, this was one night.
For him, it was forever.
He knew, like he knew from one look he’d never meet a woman who compared. He’d never forget either. This moment would be seared in his mind for the rest of his life.
He knew it, felt it. So he knew he should stop, knew he shouldn’t let himself feel any more of it, knowing he’d never be able to fuck a tap to blow off steam. She’d damaged him for good, soiling every other woman on the face of the earth, but he didn’t care. If he got a piece of her, one night of feeling this, he would take it.
With her lying pliant and willing under him, he pulled out, then thrust into her slowly, allowing her to grow accustomed to the feel of him. Her walls clenching him, she moaned the sweetest moan. The entire time, her beautiful, color-changing eyes never left his. He let himself believe it was because she wanted to memorize him above her, inside, stretching, and owning her. He let himself believe it because he wanted that, too.
She wrapped her trembling legs around his waist, pressing her heels against his lower back pushing herself into him. One hand buried in his hair, and the other wrapped around his shoulders.
He slammed his lips against hers, delving into her mouth in a frenzy, then thrust into her again, and she moaned in his mouth.
He continued his pace, soft, slow, and deep. It took all the restraint he had to make love to her, but he did it. He wanted to give her what she deserved, and she deserved to be loved.
To him, it didn’t matter. Even if he f
ucked her senseless, showing her what she’d be missing from that day forward, it’d always mean more than a casual fuck.
“Harder, Jace,” she whispered against his lips.
He drew away to stare into her eyes. Then he gave her what she wanted, hard and fast.
Totally worth it. With each pound, her arms and legs tightened like a vise grip around him, like she’d never let go, moaning and whimpering.
Holding back the need to spill, he reached for her clit and rubbed it roughly. She spasmed. Her hips bucked wildly.
It did him in. He lost control. Groaning, his eyes on hers, hers on him, he came, hard.
Then she cried out his name.
His name.
The sound resonated inside his chest long after his release, the most powerful, mind-blowing release of his life. He’d expected nothing less because he’d been so right about her it fucking hurt.
His chest tightening, a deep ache seared him. Unable to move and unwilling to try, he wanted to stay.
But it was over. He knew he’d lose her, knew he couldn’t prevent it. So, still buried inside, while he caught his breath, he relished the moment as best he could. Endless moments later, he cupped her cheek and rested his forehead against hers. “I was fuckin’ right, baby. You taste and feel like heaven.”
Her eyes, misted with her release, watered.
It cut him deep. He’d either hurt her or she already felt the shame of fucking trash like him. He would’ve apologized, but guilt clogged his throat.
Her arms tightened around him. A tear slipped out of her eye. “That’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
It knocked the wind out of him. Letting the feeling sink in, he wiped the tear from her face.
Still, he didn’t want it to end, so he kissed her long and hard. Her tongue darted into his mouth and entwined perfectly with his, like she didn’t want him to leave.
Shit. He was getting hard again, and he still had on the old condom. He had to find the will to pull away and out of her. Wanting to relish it, he slowly pulled out. She tensed and unwrapped her arms and legs from him, then looked away. A sadness took hold of her expression. It pleased him so much the ache in his chest lessened. Then and there, he decided to do what he had never done before, cuddle. If he had just one night with her, he would take that night, and the night wasn’t over.
Smiling, he stood and walked toward her bathroom, removed the condom, and flushed it. He stepped back into her room and found her curled into a ball with her back toward him. Without thought, he climbed into her bed.
She sat up, turning to face him. Her brows drew together. He read the question in her eyes, but he let his actions speak.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her against him until she was sprawled on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Sleep, baby.”
She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I don’t have much experience…with…um…sex.” Her cheeks flushed. “I know you do, and I’m sure you hear it a lot…but that was…amazing.”
He tugged her up and over him, her face inches from his. He trailed his fingers down her face. “That’s ’cause you’re amazing, Allie.”
“You don’t have to say nice things to get me into bed. You already did.”
“I wouldn’t mind having you in my bed every night.”
He meant it. She let him in, even if for just one night, and it meant he had a taste, and God help him, but he would fight for more because one night wasn’t enough.
She smiled, then rested her head against his chest. In minutes, she fell asleep.
****
Morning dawned, the alarm clock on the side of Allie’s bed blinked eight a.m. Trig hated the night had gone so quickly. He had nodded off twice. He didn’t need much sleep and with her cuddled against him reality was, for once, sweeter than a dream.
But it was Saturday morning. He looked forward to Saturdays and spending the day with his niece all week. Right then, he wanted it to be any other day. He didn’t want to leave Allie.
She slept, soundlessly, breathing deeply. Her head on his shoulder, facing him, her leg tangled with his, and her dark, long hair sprawled against his arm. Even sleeping, without a shred of makeup, she was beautiful.
He hated waking her. Not just because she looked so peaceful and so beautiful, but because after last night he didn’t know how she’d react, how she’d feel about what they’d done, what they’d shared. And if last night was all he had, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to hold on to that moment as long as he could, wanted to stay there and stare at her. But he couldn’t do that either; he had to get Della.
He pressed his lips against her forehead, kissing her lightly. He’d done it so many times throughout the night he’d lost count. Disentangling himself from her slowly, he shifted until her head rested against the pillow. After dressing, he took a deep breath, and then he did what he could come to regret.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he kissed her lips ever so softly, then whispered, “Baby?” He ran his fingers through her hair.
She mumbled incoherently.
He kissed her again. “Allie, baby?”
Her lids fluttered open briefly, then closed.
He rubbed his fingers across her cheek. “You look beautiful.”
She smiled and pressed her chest against his thigh.
“Gotta get Della. One of the guys will watch you today. Be back later.”
She smiled and whispered softly, “Okay.”
Like she wanted him to come back.
He grinned. He probably looked like an idiot grinning to himself, but he didn’t fucking care. She wanted him back.
Yeah, he was the luckiest trailer trash on earth.
****
Allie buried her face in the pillow, seeking more of the intoxicating scent she’d dreamed about, the scent she usually avoided. In the haze of sleep, she didn’t realize who it belonged to, but as the seconds turned to minutes, it hit her.
She shot up in bed, clutching the blanket against her, her eyes frantically scanning her room.
It hadn’t been a dream. It had been real, and now, he was gone.
In the pit of her stomach, she knew who he was, and she’d been warned. So she knew without searching the rest of her apartment, he was gone. She hated she’d stupidly let herself believe everything he said, hated she thought for even a split second what they’d done meant something to him.
Sitting there on her bed, naked and deliciously satisfied, she held back tears, knowing she deserved the throbbing ache in the middle of her chest.
It wasn’t his fault. She’d done this to herself.
She had to face facts now. Better now than later. She’d initiated it. She’d kissed him, and then, she let him kiss her and touch her and fuck her. To him, that was all it had been, an easy fuck, a one-night stand, no better than the taps he got off on.
Shame didn’t even begin to describe how she felt. She’d never had a one-night stand, never had a sex-buddy. Never had she been so stupid and reckless with her body and her heart.
She was an idiot.
Allie sat there, immobile for moments too long. Then she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and got out of bed. Pulling on a robe, she parted her bedroom door and headed into the living room where she spotted Blaze on her couch.
“Hey, Classy.”
She hadn’t expected Blaze. In fact, she’d hoped she wouldn’t see anyone from the club today. She should’ve guessed. Jace would fuck her and leave her, but he’d never leave her without a guard not because he cared, but because of Ty and the club.
She pulled her robe tighter. “H-Hi.”
“Look surprised. Thought you knew the club was watchin’ you.”
“Yeah, sorry…I forgot for a second.”
He scanned her face. Her clue he’d caught on she wasn’t okay. She forced herself to look away. “Do you want coffee, some breakfast?”
He smiled. “
Won’t say no to food, especially not anything you make.”
She gave him her best fake smile, then busied herself making pancakes and brewing a pot of coffee.
A knock sounded on her door, her heart skipped a beat. Blaze parted it. Cuss strode through, smiling.
She released a breath. “Hi, Cuss.”
“Miracle, you makin’ me breakfast?”
She smiled. “Actually, I was making Blaze breakfast. He didn’t tell me you were coming.”
Cuss’s face fell. He then shot a glare in Blaze’s direction, who laughed.
“Don’t worry, there’s enough for you.”
Cuss’s gaze met hers. He grinned.
They ate together on her small dining room table, and after, she made calls to Mia, Lynn, and Tiffany, and made plans to get out of her apartment. It reminded her of him, of her mistake.
Chapter Nineteen
Trig called her four times. Four. Fucking. Times. She hadn’t picked up a single one of his calls. Not one.
He didn’t know how late she usually slept, so he’d called her at noon. She hadn’t answered. Around that time, he’d taken Della to the park. He’d glanced at his phone every half hour. Like a fucking wuss waiting for her call.
Two hours later, she hadn’t responded. He called her again. And again, she didn’t answer. He left her a message, simple and to the point, telling her to call him back. Like a pussy-whipped idiot, he checked his phone every fifteen minutes.
Three hours later, she still hadn’t called. He called again, and again, she didn’t answer. He then caved and called Blaze, who told him he had a guard and Cuss volunteered to watch her.
Cuss. Damn fucking Cuss. What was it she’d said? Cuss had a way with women, and she knew because she was a woman.
Jealousy knotting his gut, he swallowed his pride and called Cuss, who informed him Allie and Tiffany were at the mall, shopping.
Shopping and she couldn’t bother to pick up his fucking calls? Giving him the brush-off, the fucking brush-off! He deserved it, too. She had class, and he was trash, but shit, it hurt. Allie wasn’t just any woman. She was beautiful and sweet Allie with her pretty color-changing eyes and fantastic legs. She’d kissed him, and they’d had sex, and now, she’d brushed him off.
Running Wild (Hell Ryders MC Book 1) Page 15