by DD Prince
What a catty cow. Not that there was a thing wrong with working at Walmart, but she’d been in my salon. Twice to buy hair spray. She knew I owned it. She’s called me Jenna at the counter both times and the salon was called Jenna’s House of Allure, for fuck sakes. She probably figured by the way I dressed that I was a label whore, and this was clearly her attempt to rattle me in front of Rider, who she clearly wanted.
“Nope, I don’t. Is that where you got those shoes?” I asked.
She was wearing Jimmy Choo’s. I should know. I was wearing $1400 Jimmy Choo open-toed boots right now.
She glared at me.
“Uh…actually, these are one-thousand-dollar Jimmy Choo’s.”
“Oh. You blow old Sal at the shoe store to get a discount?”
Rider snickered and put his hand on my thigh and gave it a squeeze. I glanced at him. He was looking at me intently. I didn’t know how to read it. He looked amused. I think.
“Rider, I’m sorry I missed your call last night. I just wanted to say that.”
My stomach took a dive.
“Didn’t call you last night,” he muttered, giving her a death stare.
“Pocket dial?” she suggested.
“Not sure how that’d be since you’re not in my phone.”
“Oh,” she gave him a pout. “Weird. Well, call me anytime, sexy.” She winked at him and placed her palm on the table. She moved her hand away and I saw a post-it with a phone number on it.
“Jenna,” she sneered and then strutted away and idiotically so, since she’d used my name after having claimed to not know me.
Bitch.
Did I believe him? I didn’t know. I tried to keep my face blank. I sipped my beer.
He gave my thigh a squeeze.
I faked a cramp with a wince and gingerly pulled my leg off his and squeezed my legs together, my hands folded between my thighs.
“I didn’t call her, Jenna.” He ran his hand through my hair, “I was with my brothers all night. Don’t even got that bitch’s number. Look. She left her number on the table. Would she do that if I had her number?”
I glanced at him and our eyes locked. It was a loaded moment and I didn’t know how to respond to it.
I tried to brighten. “Whatever. I got her number, too. 1-800-Skank.” I took another healthy swig of my beer.
I felt the heat of his gaze, which was burning into me.
“Like this,” he muttered.
“What?” I asked.
“Possessive,” he stated.
I didn’t make eye contact. I reached for my handbag. “Little girls room calling,” I chirped.
“You believe me?” he grabbed my hand, halting me.
“Of course. She’s just trying to get me goin’. And she’s making sure you know she’s interested. Not that you would be, because, hello…” I gestured to the direction she’d walked like it was preposterous.
I slid out of the booth and I was kind of intrigued at the idea that he liked the idea of me being possessive.
And as for Paige’s intentions? That’s what I did think. That she was just trying to get me going.
Mostly.
***
A few hours later
He was leaving. Leaving.
He was pulling his boots on after giving me a lame excuse about an early appointment at the garage. My place was only a ten-minute drive from the garage. It didn’t make sense to me.
What did make sense? He was being cold and detached. After sex.
And I was trying to hide my heartbreak. We’d had sex and now he was going. This hurt. This hurt a lot. This was a sure sign that he was only after sex, not anything long-term.
I had a sneaking suspicion the first time, when he left that morning and didn’t come back up when he picked up his car, chucking my effing chin, but then he’d seemed like he was still interested…
I’d come twice. He’d come, too. And now it was five minutes later, max, and he was already dressed, so he could leave. Maybe he was heading back to the bar to fetch the Post-It with Paige’s number on it.
He gave me a quick kiss at my kitchen door, and not the kind of kiss you give a woman you’ve just had sex with, unless you’re not planning to come back for more. It wasn’t the chuck on the chin I got last time, but it certainly didn’t leave me thinking he was interested in thirds.
And then after he pulled away, I sat, in my pale pink lacy nighty in my big empty bed that still smelled like sex, and I tried to do a post-mortem on the night as the sound of his motorcycle pipes echoed in my aching heart.
What went wrong? I rewound the evening and thought it over.
After Paige had left, maybe I’d deflated, but I tried hard not to let it show. We stayed while I had another drink and he switched to water. I’d put my wall up, I guess, because the idea of seeing a guy seeing another girl was too déjà vu for me.
And we sat, and I talked to get rid of what felt like awkward silence, and he, in hindsight, replied mostly with Yeahs, um hms, and did more yeah-ing while he kept checking his cell phone. There was a lot of awkward silence.
“Are you waiting for a call?” I asked after he’d looked at it for the third time.
“Nope.” He put the phone down face down and gave me a smile that didn’t give me the warm fuzzies. At all.
Maybe he was checking the time. Maybe there was something up with his club to do with Scooter getting attacked. Maybe he wanted to go.
Maybe he wanted to see if he could catch up with Skanky Paige, who had been trying to catch that guy Jesse’s attention after leaving our table.
“Do you, uh… wanna come back to my place?” I asked. And I sounded funny. I didn’t like the way I sounded, because I sounded needy, and like I was afraid of rejection. And it really wasn’t like me to tip my hand.
He leaned forward and looked me in the eyes and looked like he was unsure. He searched my face for a second.
And I wanted to erase any implication that I might be afraid of rejection. So, I touched the opening of his shirt, and then my finger glided from his throat down past the top three buttons, which were not fastened, to where the next button was done up. My finger then gilded back up and touched his bottom lip. I leaned forward and kissed his lips, letting my tongue touch that lower lip before my lips caught up.
He kissed me back, hungrily, and the look in his eyes changed to sexually charged.
He got to his feet, taking my hand, waving at a couple of bikers as we made our way to the door. Deacon was already long gone after we’d had just one drink with him and then Rider walked him out as they exchanged words that huddle ended in back slaps and grins by the door. Spencer was here, though, and I saw Rider shoot him a nasty look as we left. Spencer’s response was to put a bottle of beer to his lips and glare back.
The ride back to my place felt too long. A sharp contrast to earlier, because I couldn’t wait to get him alone. I wasn’t drunk tonight. I was very looking forward to getting reacquainted with that piercing and that tongue. I pushed Paige out of my mind.
Literally. I envisioned shoving her over a cliff out into a great big black hole of nothing.
I’d already texted Pippa from the bathroom earlier and she confirmed that she and Joe were heading to his place after fajitas, so the apartment was all mine tonight.
Joe lived with two roommates, one had just moved out and the other was in the midst of moving, so they had some alone time. In a few more weeks, after the place was, in Pippa’s words, “redecorated, fumigated, sanitized, and exorcized”, she’d be moving in with him.
Why hadn’t I told Mom that when she was going on about Pip living with me without paying rent? She’d mentioned a few times that if Pippa ever left, she could have that room rented out in a heartbeat. Right. To someone who worked for her, most likely, a someone who would report to my mother on all my business.
I had my mother on a need-to-know basis.
I’d find a new roommate myself before telling her that Pippa moved out.
/> I didn’t need a roommate, but I wanted one. I liked having people around. My friend and neighbor Andie had six siblings and loved living alone in her little apartment. Me? I wish I’d had a bunch of siblings. Then maybe my Tiger / Helicopter Mom would’ve had more than just me to focus on.
When we got inside, I grabbed Rider’s hand and took him straight to my room. I gave him a playful shove and he fell onto his back on my bed. The look in his eyes was ultra-sexy.
I grabbed a lighter from my dresser and lit a candle and then got out of my booties. He was on his back, watching me.
“Come here, gorgeous.”
“One sec,” I said and slipped into the bathroom and swished with mouthwash, rolled more deodorant on, and fluffed my hair, then turned on the bathroom’s scented wax warmer.
I walked out, finding him lying there on his back, perpendicular on my bed, his feet planted on the floor at the side of my bed, staring at the ceiling, looking gorgeous in the flickering candlelight. I got closer and he didn’t only look gorgeous, he looked bored.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so long.”
“Way to kill the spontaneity,” he mumbled.
I snickered and stood at his knees and then said, “Kick those boots off.”
He did, using one foot to push the other boot off, then doing the same with the other boot, not taking his eyes off me.
I climbed up and straddled him.
His hands went to my waist.
I started to kiss him and work at his fly.
When I got his dick out, he reached into his leather jacket pocket and produced a condom. He passed it to me and slid the jacket off and tossed it to the floor.
Ugh. He wanted me to put it on. Flashback to our last night together.
“You do it,” I passed it back. “It’s too sticky and I can’t get it just right.”
His eyes flashed with something, maybe irritation, but then he ripped the corner of the package and got down to business.
I watched.
“The sooner that’s on, the sooner I get to go for a ride,” I wiggled my eyebrows. He wiggled his in reply. My eyes dropped and yep, he was as well-equipped as I remembered.
I rolled over onto my back beside him and waited.
A beat went by where he watched me, his eyes working actively and greedily over my body, and then he got to his feet and worked my jeans undone and hauled them off. He hauled my panties off next.
And then he settled on top of me and lined up. I felt the wetness gather between my legs. Just a look from him and I was ready. Very ready.
I opened my legs wider and wrapped them around his legs. He put a finger inside me and smiled. “You ready?”
I nodded and sank my front teeth into my bottom lip as his finger moved in and out a little bit. And then he crooked it, hitting that magical spot inside.
“You’re ready.” He took his finger out and then watched me as he ever so slowly advanced and slid inside.
A breathy moan escaped my lips and then I kissed him, putting my fingers into his hair.
He put his fingers to my clit and began to thrust harder and faster while working it. It took no more than a minute before I was panting into his mouth, ready to come, when he let go of my clit and grabbed my hips with both hands and started fucking me harder and faster.
“I was almost…” I whispered, “You stopped.” My voice was filled with accusation.
“You want it?”
I looked at him thinking, ‘duh’.
“Fuck, you’re hot,” he said.
I rocked against him.
“Hot for me, baby?” He asked.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Say it.”
“Say what?” I asked, not hiding my annoyance.
“That you want it.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed.
He grabbed my face by the chin and stared, intently, stopping the thrusting.
“You want it bad enough, gorgeous? Ask. No. Beg. Beg for it.”
I stilled. “Beg for it?”
“Yeah, baby. Beg for it. Beg nice and I’ll give you the biggest climax of your life.”
“I’m not begging for it,” I said.
He stilled, “Then maybe you’re not getting it.”
I opened my mouth and then I closed it. I opened it again, “What?”
His expression changed, and he shook his head, “Jokin’, Jenna.” He put his thumb back and bit down on my throat while working that knot of nerves again.
My eyes rolled into the back of my head, but then I pulled back. “That hurts.” I said, and he released my throat and began kissing me again.
I rocked into him, feeling him slide in and out and in and out as he twisted my clit and then, without warning, I hit a huge peak and let out a cry.
I floated back to earth again and he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, then he changed positions and turned me to my side and was grinding against my backside, then sliding inside me.
I put my hand on his hand, which was on my hip and threaded my fingers with his.
He kissed my shoulder. “You are smokin’ hot when you come, baby.”
“Mm,” I said. “Thanks.”
“You could give a porn star a run for their money in the best orgasm face award,” he added, sliding in and out.
I giggled.
He groaned like he liked the way that felt around his dick.
“Mm.” He planted himself to the root and stayed there a second. And then he rotated his hips.
“Ah.” Wow, that felt good.
He drilled in again and again, making my eyes roll back.
We were spooning, and it was a really nice angle he was at. His left hand reached between my legs again and he worked at me, hitting me inside in a way where the next orgasm that came was fast and hard, and it was coming from inside and from the outside.
Damn, he was good at that.
After coming the second time, I was boneless and hoping he’d come soon, because I just really wanted to curl up on his chest and sleep.
He was thrusting into me over and over. He moved, putting me on my belly.
“On all fours, beautiful,” he whispered against my ear and then licked the ridge of it.
I moved up onto my knees and he pushed us forward so that I was pressed up against my soft padded headboard.
“Hold on.” He grabbed my wrists and made me hold onto the edge. And then he started going really hard. I was glad the headboard was soft because I was being slammed against it.
“That feel good?” he asked.
“Mm,” I grunted.
“Tell me.”
“Mm. Yeah, Rider. It’s good,” I said.
“Did I make you come hard?” He asked.
“Mm hm.”
“Talk to me, baby.”
I froze.
“Talk,” he kissed my ear, “to,” he kissed my throat, “me…” another kiss, on my jaw this time.
“And say what?” I asked.
He slowed. His hand caressed up my belly, past my breasts, and to my throat. He held my throat in his grip, loosely, his fingertips at my jawline.
“Tell me what you want. Where you want me to touch you, what you want me to do to you.”
I swallowed against his palm and felt a little claustrophobic suddenly.
I froze.
“For someone who’s come twice, how come you’re all tense? You’re safe with me.”
I couldn’t exactly tell him he’d already done all the good stuff to me and now I just wanted him to hurry up and finish, so we could sleep.
“I want you to come, Rider. It’s definitely your turn. Come.” I tried, my voice husky. I put my hand on his and caressed it and used the caress to move his hand down to my breast, away from my throat, which felt too vulnerable for him to be holding in that way.
He was still a minute and then he moved backwards on his knees, taking me with him, until I was back on my belly flat on the bed.
His palm
trailed up my spine, up to my hair, which he gathered into one hand and held tight.
“Ouch,” I said.
He let go of it and was still a moment. He pulled out.
I waited.
He flipped me over to my back and then was inside me, looking into my eyes. I closed my eyes and put my arms around him.
He buried his mouth behind my ear and started to hammer into me. And he hammered. And yep… hammered. It was just skin slapping skin for a really long time.
“Tighten,” he ordered, “Wiggle.”
“What?”
“Fuck,” he ground out, sounding frustrated.
It took a dog’s age for him to finally moan into my hair. I ran my hands up and down his back.
Things felt… wrong. The affection of a few minutes before was gone.
I tried to bring ease back into the room.
“You want something to drink?” I kissed his shoulder.
“Naw, babe.” He rolled to his back and ran his hands through his hair.
“Food? I could order a pizza. I have a big box of really good pastries in the kitchen.”
“Naw, that’s all right.” He got up and walked, nude, to the bathroom and closed the door behind himself.
I stretched and leaned over to grab my purse from the place I’d discarded it on the floor when we came in. I pulled my cell out and plugged it into the USB port in my bedside table lamp. I checked the volume to make sure it was up for the alarm that’d wake me up in about six and a half hours.
He was back as I put the phone down. He reached to the floor for his jeans and got into them, commando.
My heart sank as it registered that he was getting dressed.
“You’re getting dressed.”
“Yeah, babe. Gonna hit the road.”
“Uh… you can crash here.” I said.
“Got an early appointment with a customer to fix the brakes in his pickup.”
“I don’t live far,” I muttered.
“Easier to roll outta bed in the mornin’ and head right to the garage fifty feet away. But, cheers, babe.” He leaned over and grabbed his leather jacket. “Walk me out so you can lock up?”
I got up and used the sheet to cover me until I could get to my closet where I found my nightie and robe. I was feeling all kinds of shy all of a sudden. And my chest was burning with a very unwanted emotion.