Hook

by Atlas, Lilly

  “Hoook.” She moaned. “Please.”

  He chuckled behind her. “Yes, ma’am.” He pushed into her, slowly, inch by inch until his balls met her skin and he was deeper than any man who’d come before him. Not that there had been many.

  “Jesus, Marcie. Your pussy is tight. And hot as fuckin’ flames.” He drew out and rocked back in, beginning a steady rhythm.

  “More, Hook. Give me more, harder.” She wasn’t above begging if she could get another of those brain-melting orgasms.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he whispered, his plunges becoming stronger, fierce. His hands were everywhere, her ass, her upper back, reaching around to pinch her nipples.

  Marcie threw up a quick prayer in hopes that the force of his thrusts wouldn’t tip the bike. She held the seat for dear life and met his hips with her own. The sound of heavy breathing, skin slapping skin, and the occasional harsh curse filled the now darkened evening air. She’d completely forgotten they were out in public, but no one ever came out this way. They’d never be discovered.

  A tingling began low in her abdomen and spread out through her limbs. For a second, her wobbly legs threatened to fail her. But Hook, always in tune with her needs, snaked an arm under her hips and supported her. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give in to his support in some ways.

  He tensed after two more thrusts, thrusts that hit a place inside her that created such an intense pleasure, her eyes literally crossed for a second. Before she expected it, she came so hard her knees buckled and she screamed his name into the wide-open desert.

  The scenery blurred and she quaked in his embrace. Her fingers slipped from the motorcycle seat, no longer under her command. Hook was only seconds behind. He buried his face in her neck, shouting his release into her skin. His body jolted for long seconds before calming to nothing more than harsh breaths.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered against her ear.

  She froze, just for a fraction of a second, but she feared he noticed. Should she stay? Could she stay? Would she depart too far from the independent woman she’d created over the past ten years?

  “Just for a few days.” He pressed a kiss to her neck, then rose to a stand.

  Shivers racked her as his sweaty torso peeled away from her. Now that the frenzy was over, she realized the night had cooled considerably and she was quite cold.

  Of course, he meant just a few days. They’d been back in each other’s lives such a short time. She was crazy to think he meant for her to stay permanently.

  He helped her stand, righted her dress, and assisted her back into the leather jacket. It was nice to have someone take care of her. More than nice. Maybe she’d gone so far overboard with her need for independence that she forgot what it was like to have someone care. Tanner certainly never did squat for her. Neither did her last few boyfriends. A chill settled over her that had absolutely nothing to do with the dropping temperature.

  Was she picking assholes on purpose? Choosing men who didn’t care enough about her to bother butting into her affairs so she could remain a liberated female? It was a sobering thought. One she’d have to give more time to later.

  For now, she smiled up at Hook. “I’d love to stay with you for a few days.”

  At least.

  Chapter Eleven

  Morning sunlight streamed through the window, heating the room and counteracting the chill of the air conditioning. Hook kept his house at ice box temperatures. Not that Marcie minded much. He’d done a damn good job of keeping her warm through the night.

  And what a night it had been. Hook was insatiable, and she’d found herself right there with him each time. Never had she experienced this passion with another man. This driving need to have him again and again. It was probably just the fact that she’d wanted him for as long as she could remember. The novelty would wear off. Wouldn’t it?

  Even now, with him curled around her back, his arm and leg trapping her to the mattress, she felt the stirrings of renewed desire. He shifted against her and let out a small snore. Marcie giggled, the motion jiggling her in his arms. Against her backside, a hard ridge began to form. Looked like the night of never ending pleasure wasn’t quite over.

  Buzz buzz.

  Her phone vibrated on the unfinished surface of the nightstand. With a sigh, she snatched it up. Real life could have given them a few more hours before it barged back in.

  You’re crazy as well as a bitch if you think this is over.

  Shit. Tanner.

  He was supposed to pick up his car today and be on his way back to Seattle. There wasn’t any reason for him to stick around and his friends had to be back anyway. He was probably just pissed at the way yesterday went down and this was his hissy fit. She didn’t relish running into him when she returned home.

  “Everything okay?” Hook’s gravely morning voice rumbled in her ear.

  She dropped the phone back on the night table and squeezed his hand that rested over her abdomen. “All good. Just someone from home.” Not really a lie.

  “Anything I can help with?” He nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck and she shivered.

  “No, Hook. Despite what you may think, I can actually take care of my own life.” The bite in her own voice had her wincing.

  “Whoa.” He cupped her breast and thumbed her nipple.

  The act had the intended effect and desire overtook her momentary snit.

  “Baby, I’d never think otherwise.”

  “Sorry,” she said as her back arched, pushing her breast farther into his hand and grinding her ass into his now full-blown erection. “Sore spot.”

  His hand felt so good, so strong and warm as it left her chest and stroked down her stomach, stopping right before he reached the place she needed him most. He stroked back up again and she understood why cats purred. It was hypnotic.

  This time, when he reached the end of her body, he kept going. He teased her slippery folds with light touches. God, she wanted him inside her so bad she’d kill for it. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she anticipated the pleasure of his finger sinking into her.

  “Tell me what it was like when you moved.”

  Her eyelids popped open. “What? Now?” Was he crazy? There was only one thing her brain could focus on, and it wasn’t the story of her life.

  “Yes, now. I used to know every damn thing about you and now you’re practically a stranger. Tell me about your life.” He bit down gently on her shoulder as his thumb glanced over her clit.

  There was no way to hold in the moan. His touch was just enough to ignite a raging need, but not enough to extinguish the fire. “Jesus, Hook, you’re killing me.”

  “Talk to me, babe. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Okay, um, well you know we left because my mom met someone who was going to change our lives in miraculous ways.” The bitter mockery was obvious even to her own ears.

  “Not how it ended up?” He swirled the tip of his finger in her opening and her hips rocked forward. She needed that digit inside her.

  “Shh, baby, you’ll come…eventually. I promise. Just tell me your story.”

  She growled and he chuckled as he resumed the feather-light touches and torturous strokes to her folds. “Actually, things were pretty good for a while, but you know what they say. A leopard doesn’t change its spots. About a year after we moved, my mom’s boyfriend discovered she’d hooked up with a pimp at some point and was whoring herself once again.” She shook her head, lost in the story now. Hook’s hand moved from between her legs and smoothed up and down her back in a soothing motion. Now that she’d started, the words tumbled out.

  “I have no idea why she did it. She didn’t need to. For the first time in our lives, she had money, she had security, she had a man that actually gave a shit about her. It was like an addiction for her, a habit she couldn’t kick.”

  “I’m sorry, Marce. She wasn’t nearly as strong as you are. Some people don’t feel they deserve happiness.”

  She shrugged. “I’m
sure you’re right and I should be a bit more sympathetic. It’s just hard for me to do that.” It was nearly eight years ago now, shouldn’t bother her anymore. “Anyway. Her boyfriend kicked us out. I found out what she’d been up to at the same time he did, but he lumped me in with her and refused to talk to either of us. We moved to a shitty apartment and she used to fuck men for money more often than not. At the time, I had about six months of my senior year in high school left. I worked my ass off. Got two after school jobs. I wanted out. With the help of financial aid and an academic scholarship I was able to go to a local college and live on campus. We only spoke a handful of times after I moved out.

  “I did well in college, worked multiple jobs the entire time, graduated, and started my career. I didn’t need her. Everything I’ve accomplished since we moved away has been one hundred percent on my own, with hard work and grit. I’m happiest when left to take care of myself.”

  The statement didn’t hold quite the punch it was supposed to. It was hard to assert her independence when she lay in Hook’s arms, seconds away from begging him to fuck her.

  Anger sizzled just below the surface of Hook’s calm façade. There was a big difference between being independent and being abandoned her whole life, and Marcie didn’t seem to recognize the distinction. She wasn’t meant to be alone and lonely. The way she responded to him last night and now was a testament to the way things should be. She was meant to pleasure and be pleasured. To be part of a team. To be loved.

  But how to convince her of this? Her heart was akin to an abused animal who didn’t trust its new owner. He would just have to show her how much better life could be if she shared her burdens and workload with someone.

  “I’m proud of you, baby. You took a shit situation and came out shining.” The softest skin he’d ever felt glided under his fingers. Not touching her wasn’t possible.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. She believed him. Good. Her body was strung tight as a violin string and she moaned as he slipped his hand between her legs once again, pressing his palm against her mound. Playing with her was more fun that he’d had in years. She’d go off like a fucking firecracker when he finally let her come. If anyone needed a release right now, it was her.

  “Hook, please.” She ground her pelvis into the heel of his hand, no doubt trying to rub her little clit against him and get herself off. Greedy. He loved it.

  “You’re so hot here, Marce. Tell me what you need.” He licked up a corded tendon in her neck and she whimpered.

  “I need to come, Hook. I need to come so bad. You’re killing me.” She trembled in his arms, on the verge of a powerful release.

  Without another word, he shoved two fingers up into her channel and curved them forward with an almost rough stroke. She detonated at once, like a live bomb whose timer had just run down.

  “Hook, Hook,” she cried. “Shit, oh my God.”

  It seemed to go on forever. Damn, he wished he could see her face, but as he was still spooned around her back, he had to content himself with her cries and shudders of pleasure. When she calmed to the occasional small tremor, Hook withdrew his hand from her pussy and rolled her to her back. Satisfied eyes, glazed with pleasure, met his gaze. “You okay, baby?”

  “I—” She swallowed. “Hook, I’ve never…I mean that was…intense.” Her expression held a hint of shyness.

  It was intense. The entire night had been intense. Different. They connected on a level that went far beyond the physical. He had no idea what the hell to do about it. The only thing he was certain of in this moment is that the wanted more of Marcie. Beyond that…well, he was clueless.

  Lying beneath him, her eyes were soft and dewy, her cheeks flushed from the recent orgasm, and her hair stood on end in an adorable chaotic pattern. He traced her lower lip with the pad of his finger, coated with the evidence of her arousal. Almost as if by reflex, her tongue darted out and followed the trail of his fingertip. As her own flavor tickled her senses, the green of her irises disappeared around the edges of her widening pupils.

  He needed a taste for himself. His lips met hers and her spicy essence filled his senses. Lost in her intoxicating flavor, Hook didn’t register her movements until she’d flipped their positions and sat between his thighs, a mischievous gleam in her gorgeous emerald eyes.

  With a wink, she shimmied down the bed until she was eye level with his very hard cock.

  His throat thickened and he swallowed as best he could around the lump of anticipation. This was his number one fantasy, right here. Marcie between his legs prepared to take him in her mouth. If she had any idea the number of conscious and asleep fantasies he’d had about this very thing over the years, she just might think he needed some professional help.

  With her gaze trained on his—there was no way in hell he’d miss this visual—she gave him a long, slow lick from root to tip.

  “Holy fuck.” His hips jerked and his shaft bumped her mouth, like it was trying to find its way between her lips. After a sly smile, her tongue came out again, this time circling the sensitive head. “Suck me, baby, take me deep.”

  “So, Hook, tell me what you’ve been up to the last ten years. I used to know everything about you, and now you’re practically a stranger.” She spoke against the tip of his dick and his eyes rolled back in his head.

  “Shit.” His head dropped back and he stared at the ceiling. The pixie would be the death of him. But what a way to go. Death by sexual torture.

  She chuckled, the sound a combination of desire and the knowledge that in this moment she held one hundred percent of the power. There wasn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t give to her for the pleasure of having her suck his cock.

  “Well, the club gets most of my time and attention. I prospected with Striker shortly after you left.”

  “Does your family still live here?”

  “Nah, they moved back to Australia about five years ago.”

  “You in touch with them?”

  He lifted his head and shot her a look. “Seriously? My childhood may not have been quite what yours was, but there’s no love lost between us. You know how it was. They moved us to the US with dreams of Hollywood stardom and ended up little more than junkies who had the unfortunate luck of being saddled with a kid.” He shrugged. This was such old news, but he supposed they never had talked about it as kids.

  “I’m so sorry, Hook. It’s their loss. And now you work at the garage?”

  He appreciated how she didn’t harp on the difficult part of his younger years. “Yeah. Actually, I manage it. Shiv, he’s the club’s president, promoted me, oh, about two years ago now.”

  “Well, it sounds like you’ve carved out a nice little life for yourself.” There was genuine admiration and affection in her voice.

  “Can’t complain, babe. Well, there’s one thing I could complain about right now.” He narrowed his eyes and tried to spear her with a severe look, but she giggled and looked so fuckin’ hot hovering over his dick that he couldn’t help but grin at her like a lovesick fool.

  “I suppose you gave me what I wanted.” She lowered her head and sucked him into the wet heat of her mouth, taking him all the way to the back of her throat. Her hands massaged his thighs and her throat muscles worked the head of his cock as she swallowed around him.

  “Christ, Marce, that mouth.” Stars floated in his darkening vision and his head dropped back on the pillow once again, pleasure overtaking his ability to command his muscles. He closed his eyes and let the overwhelming sensations take over as Marcie proceeded to blow his mind.

  One thing was for sure, a man could get very used to this kind of treatment.

  Chapter Twelve

  It had been three days of living with Hook.

  Three days of consuming, physical pleasure that seemed to get better each time.

  Three days of an emotional connection that rocked her to her core.

  Three days of harassing text messages from Tanner.

  At
first, the name calling and thinly veiled threats pissed her off. Then he sent a photo of himself sitting on her couch with the words, Can’t wait until you come home, and she was now officially freaked out.

  Tanner was obviously stupid as well as crazy, if he thought she’d just roll over and take this nonsense. She’d been able to file a police report by phone and the officer who responded assisted in coordinating a locksmith to change the locks and add a few extra deadbolts. She’d look into a security system of some kind when she returned, which would have to be sooner rather than later.

  The police wanted to speak with her in person, though they understood she’d be out of town for a few more days. They needed her to assess her apartment and make sure nothing was stolen or vandalized. The police wanted access to her phone as well and instructed her not to engage with Tanner, but to keep the text messages and voicemails so they had an accurate record of each and every contact.

  Buzz buzz.

  Oh geez, not again. She glanced around the No Prisoners clubhouse, at the four men who chatted and seemed oblivious to her presence. They’d invited her to a meeting so she could help plan a big party for Striker. The club was about to vote him in as vice president.

  Should she check the text now? No one was paying attention to her, and it would drive her nuts if she didn’t read the message. As slyly as possible, she lifted her phone and snuck a peek at the screen.

  Miss you, baby.

  What? Seriously? It was time to consider the fact that there was a high possibility Tanner had a very real psychological disorder. As instructed, she ignored it, but kept the message on her phone.

  “Marce? You okay, babe?” The obvious concern in Hook’s voice cut through her musings.

  Apparently, she sucked at keeping a neutral expression, which was why she’d hesitated to check the phone in the first place. Hiding Tanner’s frequent contact and her multiple conversations with the Seattle police department from Hook had been no easy feat. But it was necessary. If he found out, he’d leave a trail of dust and gravel as he shot off toward Seattle to take care of Tanner himself. She was handling it just fine on her own.