Hooked (Viking Bastards MC)

by Christina Phillips

  I clutch his biceps. His grip on my hair verges on painful but it’s an exhilarating kind of pain. “You’ve no idea what I want.”

  His teeth flash in a predatory smile that makes me all warm and wet. “Sure I do. Rough and dirty.” He pulls my head back and wraps his free hand around my exposed throat. His fingers are callused and his grip isn’t light. My pulse hammers against his thumb, reminding me of how vulnerable I am. “Say it.”

  Rough and dirty. That’s exactly what I want. A perverse part of me refuses to obey his arrogant command. And so the words I swore never to say slip out. “I want you.”

  …

  Zach

  My fingers tighten in her hair, and she gives a sexy little gasp and digs her nails into my biceps. Her breathy confession is hot, even though it’s not what I told her to say. With my rep, girls don’t usually fuck with me once I get them alone, but somehow I don’t care tonight.

  She doesn’t know my rep.

  “You’ve got me.” I slide my hand down her throat and push back her coat. She’s wearing a tight-fitting black dress that doesn’t show nearly enough skin. It doesn’t take much effort to pull the coat off her, and for a dress that covers her from shoulders to wrists, it’s still the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

  She grabs my cut and tries to tug it off my shoulders. I grasp her hand and twist her arm behind her back. “Don’t touch the vest, princess.”

  “Why not?” She stares up at me, and for the second time since she strolled into the bar, I pause. She has the prettiest eyes I’ve even seen, especially now they’re all dark with lust.

  “Because I said so.” Before she can respond to that, I hook my fingers into the soft material of her dress and yank the thing down her arms. She gives another one of her gasps, as though I’ve shocked her, but I’m more interested in eyeing her gorgeous rack, which is barely contained in a lacy, black and red bra.

  She wriggles her shoulders, obviously trying to force her sleeves farther down her arms, but all it does is makes her tits jiggle like a porn star.

  “Wait. I’m caught up here.” She pulls on her sleeves until her arms are bare, and then gives me a weird smile, as though she’s shy or something. “Your turn.”

  Yeah, my turn. I take the ends of her sleeves. They’ll do. “Put your arms behind your back.”

  Her smile wavers. “Excuse me?”

  I laugh at the shocked look on her face, as well as her polite response. Most girls I know would tell a guy, fuck off, asshole, if they didn’t want to do something. Not that I get told that. I know what girls want when they come with me. “Don’t make me do it for you.”

  She blinks, and her long, blue-tinged eyelashes distract me for a second. And then, real slow, she puts her arms behind her back, causing her tits to practically pop right out of her bra.

  I hike her short skirt up to her hips and then turn her around. Her red hair’s started to dry, and tumbles halfway down her back. Christ, she’d look good with that hair spread out all across my bed.

  Not gonna happen. I push the vision aside and wrap her sleeves around her wrists, binding her good and tight. She flexes her fingers and gives me a fuck-me-now look from over her shoulder.

  It’s hard to resist with her standing there with her dress bunched up showing a teasing peek of her ass, and her hair half hiding her naked back. Her legs are bare and I can’t wait to feel them wrapped around me.

  Later.

  I slide my hand over her tempting behind. She’s wearing a scrap of black lace that hugs her butt cheeks. Probably cost a fortune. I tug the material down her legs and grasp one ankle. She raises her foot, and I yank the lace over her crazy pink boot.

  “Are you going to take me from behind?” Her breathy question isn’t just unexpected, it’s hot as hell. I resist the urge to bend her over the pool table and do her, because she’s going to be on her knees begging for it before I take her.

  I tear my gaze from her ass. “When I’m good and ready.” I’m more than ready now, but I won’t let any woman dictate my moves. “Turn around.”

  She slowly twists around on her heels, like she’s done this a million times in the past. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and her lips part as she looks up at me. I’m not big on kissing—I’d much rather eat a chick’s pussy—but there’s something about her that makes me want to taste her mouth and feel her tongue tangle with mine.

  For a moment I hesitate, but it’s not like any of my brothers are here to see me and call me out on it. Fuck them, anyway. I claim her mouth, and it’s sexy and sweet, like nothing I’ve done before. I push my tongue inside her, exploring and tasting and, fuck, how can this be so damn good?

  I plunge my hands through her hair and hold her head still. She presses her body against me, all soft and submissive, while her tongue drives me wild.

  Panting, I pull back. Her eyes are half closed and her cheeks are pink. Strands of her hair cling to her face and her breathing’s ragged as I grasp her waist and hoist her onto the edge of the pool table.

  “Oh my,” she gasps, like she’s in a daytime soap, and I laugh before I can stop myself. She blinks at me and crosses her ankles. “I don’t think this is hygienic.”

  Girls I’m about to screw never talk this much, and they sure don’t comment on the cleanliness of the location. It’s kind of funny. What would she think if I’d taken her into the side alley and shoved her up against the brick wall?

  I slide my hands down her legs and unhook her ankles. “Princess, nothing in my life is hygienic.”

  She gives a delicate shudder and leans back. Her wrists are still bound and she spreads her palms on the table to take her weight. “Guess I’m going to get very dirty tonight, then.”

  I lean in close, parting her thighs. The faint hint of her perfume mingles with the scent of rain, and it’s like a drug I never knew I craved. “You better believe it.” My mouth drifts along her exposed throat. I’ve never found a chick’s neck sexy before. Jesus, what am I doing?

  Not that I stop. Her skin is soft and her pulse hammers against my lips, like an echo of my heartbeat. She sighs and tilts her head, giving me complete access, and I nip her tender flesh. Tastes so good…

  “No hickeys.” Her voice is slurred, but she doesn’t try and pull away. I lift my head and give her a mocking grin. I don’t give a shit if she’s married or living with some guy. Sure as hell don’t care if they want to come after me for touching their woman. If she wants to fuck around that’s up to her, and if I want to mark a girl, I never ask permission first.

  Yet for some reason I don’t follow through. Maybe it’s the way she’s looking at me with those blue eyes, as though she trusts me not to breach her boundaries.

  What the fuck? I don’t want or need any chick’s trust. Least of all a casual hookup whose name I don’t know and who I’ll never see again.

  I hook my thumbs in the straps of her bra and tug them over her shoulders. She looks all messy and fuckable and much as I want to feast on her tits, I like the way they’re almost-but-not-quite exposed. Instead I trail my fingers over her waist and across her stomach until she’s squirming with need. Should’ve ripped her dress off altogether. Too late now, so I wrench the soft material out of my way and grasp her naked thighs.

  Her pussy is bare and just looking at her gorgeous slit makes my mouth water. “Lean back,” I order, without taking my gaze from between her legs.

  She shuffles a little and I trace the edge of my thumb along her swollen folds. She’s smooth as silk. My dick’s so hard I can barely stand up straight. I push her legs farther apart and go in for the kill.

  Her muscles tense but I don’t let that stop me. I lick her slick crease up to her clit and she gives a strangled squeak. I glance up at her, and the shock on her face is priceless.

  “Don’t stop.” Her voice is hoarse and her thighs are quivering with tension. My grin feels feral.

  “Wasn’t going to, princess. Fuck, you taste so good. I’m going to eat you u
ntil your girlfriends hear you screaming.”

  “Yes,” she gasps, as though I was waiting for her permission or something. “Do it again.”

  I don’t think she even knows what she’s saying. Fine by me. She’s not even gonna be able to think by the time I’m done with her.

  Her hands slide down to her ass and she’s flat on her back as I tease her clit with my tongue and mouth. The little moaning sounds she makes are so damn sexy I’m not sure how much longer I’ll last.

  I suck her clit and push two fingers into her wet heat. She bucks wildly, and falls apart, squeezing my fingers, and if I don’t get release soon I’m going to explode.

  I pull out and can’t take my eyes from her as she lays there, her whole body shaking, her pretty pink lips an invitation I can’t wait to claim. I grab a condom from my pocket, rip open my jeans, and sheath my throbbing cock, before winding my arms around her limp body and hauling her up.

  She slumps against me, her hair tickling my jaw. “My turn, princess,” I growl, and bend her over the table. The sight of her arms tethered behind her, her knuckles grazing the top of her naked ass, is the best thing I’ve seen all year. Combined with her tangled hair hiding half her face, and her gorgeous bare legs trembling on those hot pink excuse for boots, this chick’s gonna fuel my filthy fantasies until Christmas.

  I grip my dick, needing to be inside her pussy more than I need my next breath. She shifts on the table, wriggling her butt, and with a groan I push into her. She’s hot and wet and so tight around me. For a second I close my eyes, but the vision of her bound at the wrists and impaled by my cock is burned into my mind.

  “This feels so good.” She sounds drugged or drunk, and it’s sexy as hell. Especially when she flexes her fingers and tries to escape her bonds.

  “You feel fucking insane.” I grab her hair and twist it around my fist, partly so I can see her face but mostly because I’ve wanted to since she walked in the bar. “You ready for me, princess?”

  I don’t wait for her answer. Can’t wait. Need to make this girl mine, and now. I hammer into her, and shove my free hand between her legs so I can circle her clit. She shudders, and her eyelashes flicker like she’s about to pass out. All I can hear is our rasping breath, and the scent of sex fills my head.

  She arches her back, pinning my hand between her pussy and the table, and with a choked cry convulses around my cock like a vise. I can’t hold on any longer and shoot my load, giving her everything I have.

  Chapter Three

  Grace

  He falls on top of me, still inside me and still gripping my hair. My eyes are closed and I can hardly breathe, and although the pool table smells of old beer and who knows what else, I don’t have any desire to move. Not yet, anyway. Because I love the feel of his big body crushing me, the way his fist tangles my hair, and I don’t even have words for what his cock just did to me.

  My body quivers at the memory, and he stirs, but not enough to release me. His hand still cradles my sex which is a good thing since otherwise I’d be squashed against the table. I try to roll my shoulders to ease the ache in my arms, but I’m all uncoordinated, as though my brain’s been scrambled.

  Slowly my breathing returns to normal. And with it, so does a shred of my usual good sense.

  I’ve just had wild monkey sex with a complete stranger.

  I wait to feel thoroughly disgusted with myself, but all that happens is the crazy wish that I could do it all again.

  He moves his head and his unshaven jaw rasps against my shoulder. I don’t know why that’s such a turn-on. Then he drifts kisses across the back of my neck, holding my hair up, and I don’t care why I find it all so arousing. I just close my eyes and enjoy it.

  I might as well make the most of it. He might act like a Neanderthal in public, but my God, in private he has sex like a Casanova. I don’t want to leave…

  That errant thought is enough to slap me right back into the present and I tense, even though I try not to. It’s too late, though, as my reaction has obviously filtered through to him. He releases my hair and eases back, and when he’s no longer inside my body, embarrassed heat rolls over me.

  I’m practically naked, trussed up like a turkey, and he’s standing behind me looking at my bare ass.

  With a mortified whimper I struggle upright and shuffle around. He’s got a satisfied grin on his face as he drops the condom into the trashcan before he zips himself up. I try not to wince. It all seems so tacky, now I’m not high on sex pheromones.

  He steps toward me. He’s hot and dangerous, and now that I know what he can do with his tongue and mouth it’s even more of a lethal combination than when I first saw him out in the bar. I try to pull my hands free, but nothing is cooperating. I can’t even tug my dress down properly to hide my lady parts.

  “Need some help there?” He wraps his arms around me and tugs my sleeves from my wrists. I hold my breath but it doesn’t help. He smells of leather and whiskey and anonymous, sweaty sex.

  “Thank you.” I avoid looking him in the eye as I hastily push my hands into my sleeves. The cashmere dress is all pulled out of shape and ruined, but at least it’ll cover me up.

  “My pleasure.” There’s a hint of laughter in his voice, and I glance up at him. His smile no longer strikes me as smug, and instead it sends shudders of need between my thighs.

  Whoa. I’m not putting out again. Not here, anyway.

  I did not just think that.

  My priority is to get home to my sister’s apartment, which I used to share with her before I moved in with my ex. She’s away this week, but I texted her as soon as I split from Russell, and she’s completely on my side. Unlike my mom, who when I spoke to her last night advised me to sleep on it before I made any rash decisions. I drag my panties up my legs, scoop my coat up from the floor and tug it on, and only then do I feel ready to face him again.

  I clear my throat. I really need to get to a bathroom, but first I need to sort out practicalities. “So, can I use your phone now?”

  He frowns, as though he has no idea what I’m talking about. “Why?” There’s a strange, guarded note in his voice.

  I resist the urge to fork my fingers through my hair. It won’t make any difference. I need a shower, but that’s not happening any time soon.

  “To call roadside assistance.” And a cab. I’m a little offended he forgot, but I guess I can’t blame him. It’s not like we’re about to embark on a relationship or anything. Why should he remember anything I’ve said?

  “Your car really broke down?” He’s not frowning anymore. It doesn’t make any sense, but he sounds amused. “And your cell battery’s dead?”

  I wrap my arms around my waist. I can’t work out what he’s playing at. “Yes. I already told you that.”

  “Didn’t believe you.”

  His careless response takes my breath away, not least because it means he hadn’t forgotten what I said. “Why would I lie about something like that?”

  His smile should carry a public health warning. “Thought you just wanted a fuck on the wrong side of town.”

  I’m speechless. Worse than that, though, my face heats until I know I’m a bright, glowing red. And while I want to deny the accusation, I can’t. Because isn’t there more than a sliver of truth in what he said?

  He laughs, and now I just want to smack his face. I swing around on my heels and snatch my purse up from the floor. “So, phone?” I rummage through my purse for my brush so I don’t have to look at him.

  “I can take a look at your car in the morning.”

  I look up at him before I can stop myself. “In the morning?”

  “Too dark right now.”

  Wait. What?

  “I’m…” I flounder, because I’m not sure exactly what he’s getting at. “Are you a mechanic or something?”

  “Or something.” He gives another of those smiles, and I have a hard time not melting all over the floor.

  I take a deep breath. Sex has never interf
ered with my brain function before, but I’m sure making up for it now. “I can’t wait until the morning. I need my car fixed tonight.”

  Or at least taken somewhere reputable to be fixed and then delivered to my sister’s. I can’t see this guy wanting to do a special delivery, and in any case the concierge would throw a fit if he turned up at the apartment block.

  “No, you don’t.” He sounds so sure of himself. It should irritate me, but for some reason it doesn’t.

  “I still need to call a cab.” I can figure out what to do with my car when I’m away from here. When my sexed up brain has had a chance to cool off.

  “Forget the cab.” He moves toward me like a panther stalking its prey. I grip my purse like a shield between us, but I can’t tear my mesmerized gaze from him. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

  …

  Zach

  She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. The words were out before I could stop them, but I don’t regret them. I want this chick in my bed tonight, and the fact she wasn’t feeding me a line with the whole car and phone bullshit just makes me want her more.

  “I—that is…”

  Her confusion is kind of cute. I grab her wrist and tug her toward me. She doesn’t resist. “You got a problem with that?”

  She doesn’t answer right away. I rarely invite women back to my place, and the few I have are only too eager to agree. The fact that she’s not tripping over her six-inch heels to spend the night with me kind of burns.

  “Well…” She hesitates and her gaze roves over my face. “I guess not.”

  Satisfaction and renewed lust roll through me. “Let’s go.”

  She pulls back. “I need to use the bathroom. I mean, I need to fix my hair.”

  “Your hair looks great.” Her hair is fucking amazing. I’m getting hard just thinking about wrapping those red curls around my fist again. Except next time we’ll be face-to-face.

  She slings her purse over her shoulder and ducks down for her umbrella. Then she glances at the door and bites her lip. Is she worried about walking back through the bar? A weird kind of protectiveness grips my chest, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pin her against my side. No one out there will as much as look at her wrong when they know she’s still with me, but there’s no way she’d know that.