Hooked (Viking Bastards MC)

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Hooked (Viking Bastards MC) Page 3

by Christina Phillips


  She’s holding her umbrella as though it’s a machete. Is she really that nervous? How did she manage to walk in the bar in the first place? I can’t figure out why I’m suddenly so obsessed by her attitude, which is so different than what I assumed when I first saw her.

  I shove the weird thoughts aside. “What’s your name, princess?”

  At least that makes her smile, although I have no idea why. “I’m Grace.”

  “Nice to meet you, Grace.” I grin at the craziness of my comment, and her smile widens, lighting up her whole face. Damn, she’s beautiful. “You can call me Zach.”

  “That’s good of you. What does everyone else call you?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Okay.” She doesn’t push it, which surprises me. Chicks usually hate it when I give them that line. Then again, I don’t normally exchange names with one-night stands. “Well, it’s been an education meeting you, Zach.”

  “Is that right?” I move toward the door, and although she doesn’t pull back, her fingers tighten around her makeshift weapon. “Educational in what way?”

  I smirk, because I know exactly what she’s going to say. I’ve been an education in dirty back-room sex.

  She halts and turns to face me. I loop my other arm around her. Hell, there’s no rush, except for the fact I can’t wait to get her back home and fuck her senseless.

  And then she answers me. “In not judging a book by its cover.”

  Chapter Four

  Zach

  Now, that I didn’t expect. In fact, I have no idea how to respond, since I’m not even sure what she means. Is it an insult? The way she’s still smiling up at me makes me discard that idea.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” I pull her close, and she winds her arms around me, which makes me almost forget what I was about to say. “What you see is what you get with me.”

  “Hmm,” she says as though she doesn’t believe a word. “Big, bad, tough guy on the outside. That’s okay, your secret’s safe with me.”

  I snort with laughter. “No secret, Grace.” I like saying her name. “That’s me, inside and out.”

  “If you say so.”

  “When I get you home, I’ll prove it to you.”

  “Do you live far from here?”

  With my arm still wrapped around her, I once again make for the door. “Nah. Just a couple of blocks. Won’t take long.”

  “Can we pick my luggage up first?”

  I pause, hand on doorknob. “Luggage?”

  “Yes. From my car. You know, toothbrush and…stuff.” Her cheeks are pink and she gives a little shrug. “If I’m staying the night I need my things.”

  “Sure.” My mind fills with the happy vision of Grace in my shower. I pull open the door, keen to get home and put that particular fantasy into action.

  Tension vibrates from her as we walk back into the bar. I swagger across the room, ignoring the glances from my brothers and friends, and they soon get the message. Instead of catcalls and jeers, they go back to their business, and Grace gives a relieved sigh as the door swings shut behind us.

  “At least it’s stopped raining.” She lowers her umbrella. “That’s my car, over there.”

  I glance across the street and there’s no mistaking which car she’s talking about. It’s a silver Mercedes coupe, and if I don’t warn my brothers the car’s off-limits, it’ll be picked clean by morning.

  She opens the trunk and takes out an overnight case, then looks at me expectantly, as though she’s waiting for me to haul out the massive case that takes up the entire space. Is she leaving home or going on vacation?

  It’s none of my business, and I don’t know why the question even enters my head.

  “You need all this shit for one night?”

  “No, but I need a change of clothes.” She frowns as though something’s just occurred to her. “Oh, you mean we’re walking to your house? I thought you’d have your car here. It doesn’t matter, I can make do.”

  She goes to shut the trunk, and I hold it open. “I don’t have a car.” Seriously, is she really that clueless? Her surprised glance tells me that yeah, she really is. I haul her case out and slam the trunk.

  “There’s really no need.” She waves a finger at her case. “I don’t expect you to carry it along the street. It’s too heavy.”

  “The hell it is.” Even if the damn thing were full of bricks I wouldn’t back down now. “You better have some killer underwear in here as payback.”

  She laughs and links her arm through mine. I’ve never walked down a street with a chick hanging on my arm like this. It’s oddly civilized and no one’s ever accused me of being that before. Thing is, I kind of like it.

  Good thing she didn’t try this back in the bar. My brothers would never let me forget it.

  “I don’t have anything kinky, if that’s what you mean.” She gives me a sideways look. “Just regular panties and bras.”

  If they’re anything like the stuff she’s wearing now, that’ll do me.

  “So where were you going? Leaving the country?”

  “Just going to my sister’s.” She shrugs then sighs. “Well, if you must know I just broke off my engagement. My parents aren’t thrilled about it. I’m kind of reassessing my future options now.”

  I didn’t expect a life history, and parents isn’t a word I want to hear when I’m with a girl. But I can overlook that tonight because I’m more interested in the fact she’s just dumped her fiancé.

  Why do I care?

  I have no idea. Makes no difference. I still like it.

  “Yeah, well, I know exactly what your immediate future options include.” I leer down at her and she smiles back. Lucky for me she walked into Odin’s tonight, ready for a rebound fuck. “You’re not gonna get much sleep tonight, you know that.” It’s not a question.

  She squeezes my arm, pressing her body against me, and while I’m not usually into this kind of touchy-feely shit, it’s good. “I’m counting on it.”

  …

  Grace

  Zach strolls across a small forecourt situated on the corner of the block. It looks like a motorcycle repair shop, although the windows are blacked out so I can’t see inside. So that’s why he gave me that strange look when I asked about his car. I thought maybe he’d been banned for DUI or something, because who doesn’t drive?

  Seems he’s more into bikes. I’d love to ride pillion with him. It’s just one more thing I’ve never done because it’s too dangerous, Grace.

  He takes me down the side of the shop and around the back, where there’s a small overgrown yard and a security light over a door into the building. We go inside and there’s a short hallway and a staircase to the second floor, above the shop. He flicks on the light, waves me forward, and follows, his hand cupping my ass. I grip the stair rail for added balance. His touch really mangles my senses.

  At the top of the stairs there’s a living room to my left, and a kitchen to the right. Everything looks about thirty years old, from the worn sofa and scratched coffee table to the battered units in the kitchen. It’s tidy, though, except for some magazines scattered across the floor of the living room. As Zach squeezes past me and dumps my case in a room farther along the hallway, I suddenly realize they’re glossy women’s magazines.

  Oh my God. I’d just assumed he was single. My heart knocks against my ribs in sudden panic, and I turn to face him. Has he brought me back here for a threesome with his significant other? Or is she away and he just wants some extra-curricular fun?

  “Want to freshen up?” He loops his arms around me and even though I doubt his motives, his smile still manages to turn my insides to liquid. Damn him. Why didn’t I ask him before I agreed to come back here? Just because I’m up for a one-night stand full of mind blowing sex doesn’t mean I want to be the other woman.

  I grip my overnight case and hold it between us. It’s a pathetic barrier but will have to do.

  “So, do you live here alone?”
I try to sound casual, and I think I succeed since he doesn’t immediately go on the defensive.

  “Don’t worry about it, Grace.” His fingers massage the small of my back and it’s hard to concentrate. Except he hasn’t answered my question. “My kid sister won’t disturb us when she gets home.”

  His sister? Relief rushes through me, making me dizzy. “You live here with your sister?” I almost cringe. Why did I say that? He just told me he did. Well, I assume that’s what he means.

  “Yeah. Don’t let that stop you from screaming, though.” He gives another wicked grin, and I laugh because he doesn’t live with a woman and hasn’t just cheated on her with me.

  Stop jumping to conclusions. I’ve no evidence that’s the truth, but somehow I just know it, deep inside.

  “Just the two of you?” There’s a faint warning in the back of my mind telling me I shouldn’t be doing all this small talk. I’m leaving tomorrow and we’ll never see each other again. And yet I want to know more about him, apart from the fact he’s the best lover I’ve ever had.

  That wouldn’t be hard…

  I push the mocking thought aside. Not only do I intend to make up for the sad lack of variety in my past, I’m not settling for anything less than toe-curling orgasms in the future.

  What would he say if I told him that?

  “Yeah, that’s right.” He’s frowning, but not in a bad way. Actually, it makes him look adorable in a don’t-mess-with-me kind of way. “What’s so funny?”

  Crap, I didn’t realize my intention to demand more than second rate sex in the future had shown on my face. “Nothing’s funny. I think it’s great you live with your sister. I always wanted an older brother to look out for me.”

  Where did that come from? I know I’m going red again because seriously—all he wants from me is sex and I don’t know why my tongue keeps running away with me. It doesn’t usually. If I keep this up he’s going to think I expect some kind of commitment from him.

  “Try telling Kat that.” He grins and takes my hand. “She hates the way Gage and I ‘look out for her.’”

  Gage must be his brother. “It can’t be much fun if you interrogate all her boyfriends before she goes on a date.” Reminds me of how my dad used to be, before I started seeing Russell.

  Zach leads me down the hallway and into his bedroom. “If by interrogate you mean threaten to rip off their balls if they so much as think about trying anything, then yeah. Okay.” He laughs and kicks the door shut.

  Right. My dad was always more concerned that guys would take advantage of my name—in other words, the family fortune—but I guess the gist is the same.

  The room is bigger than I expected, with an unmade double bed against the far wall and a couple of T-shirts dropped onto the floor. He plucks my overnight case from my hand and tosses it onto the end of the bed.

  “The bathroom’s through there.”

  I didn’t expect an en suite. “Thanks. I won’t be long.”

  For some reason he seems to think my response amusing. “Take as long as you need.”

  I wait until he leaves the room before plugging in my cell to charge and opening my suitcase. Although I don’t have any killer underwear—if he’s talking about crotchless panties or peek-a-boo-nipple bras—I do have some gorgeous lingerie. It’s been forever since I’ve been so motivated to look seductive for a guy. Although I only broke my engagement to Russell last night, our sexy times were lukewarm at best for the last eighteen months or so. I was an idiot to hang in there for so long, but that’s what happens when you’re used to sucking it up for the sake of the family.

  I find what I’m searching for and then pick up my overnight case and go into the en suite. It’s cramped and messy, with guy stuff spread out over the sink, and it’s an eye-opener because Russell was meticulously tidy to the point of obsession.

  The shower’s great, though—triple-size with glass doors and low-level tiled seating along one side. Whoever designed this bathroom sure must like their showers. I find a towel in the cupboard under the sink, turn on the faucets, and peel off my clothes.

  I don’t think the dress is salvageable, but considering the reason why it’s ruined I’ve no complaints. I’m still smiling as I step under the water.

  The glass is steamed up and I’m half rinsed off when I see a dark shadow leaning against the door to the bedroom. My heart slams against my ribs, even though I know it’s Zach, and I rub a circle clear on the glass.

  He toasts me with a bottle of whiskey before taking a long swallow. He’s naked except for a pair of boxer briefs, and even through the steam I can see the tattoos on his thighs and pecs.

  How long was he standing there watching me? I’m kind of shocked that I don’t care he was perving on me, but if I’d known I would’ve made some sexy moves, like in the movies, instead of just wanting to wash away the lingering stench of that pool table.

  Before I can finish off and join him, he places the whiskey beside the sink and steps out of his briefs. My peephole instantly steams up, obscuring the view, but it doesn’t matter, since he opens the door and enters the shower.

  “Miss me?” He slams a condom onto a tiled shelf, grabs my wrists, and pulls me toward him.

  “Yes.” A daring thought pops into my mind. Usually it would stay there, but this is Zach, and this is my hot one-night stand where none of my usual rules apply. “I’m surprised it took you so long to join me.”

  “I was enjoying the show.”

  “Voyeur.”

  “This is better.” He spears his fingers through my hair and grips my head before kissing me as though he wants to devour me. I wrap my arms around him. His body is all solid muscle, and his cock is hot and hard against my stomach. My eyes close and I savor the whole decadent moment, from the warm water sliding down my back to Zach’s tongue owning my mouth.

  He backs me up a couple of steps until I’m right beneath the spray. I splutter, and he grins as the water cascades over his head and body, slicking back his hair. With one arm around my waist to keep me steady, he grabs my bottle of jasmine shower gel from the seat and tips a generous amount over my breasts.

  “I’ve already washed.” I try and snatch the bottle from him before he empties it, but he holds it above my head, out of my reach.

  “I know. You’re gonna wash me now.”

  I blink water from my eyes. “You think?”

  For an answer, he drops the bottle back onto the shelf and tugs me tight against him. The subtle scent of jasmine fills the heated air, and our bodies are slick as the gel slides over our skin. If this is what he means by washing him, then I’m all for it.

  “Your tits feel so good.” He takes my hands and presses them against my breasts so I’m pushing them together. My nipples are so hard they ache, and I rub myself over him, loving the way he groans and clasps my ass in a brutal grip.

  “Do you want me to wash you all over?” Water runs over my face and into my mouth, and I feel wild and reckless. His grin looks anything but safe as he leans in close.

  “I want you on your knees washing my dick between your tits.”

  Raw lust ignites between my thighs. It’s one thing thinking about doing something like that, but having Zach say it out loud is such a turn-on that my knees nearly collapse.

  Slowly he slides down my body, only pausing to lick my nipples, and sits on the seat, his thighs spread wide. He picks up the bottle and tips some gel on his taut stomach, and I watch, fascinated, as it drizzles around his impressive cock.

  “Now who’s perving?” He grips himself and gives a few lazy strokes. My mouth dries and my fingers twitch around my breasts. “On your knees, Grace.”

  I’ve no idea why his arrogant command is so electrifying, but my pussy quivers with anticipation and I don’t even hesitate to obey. He clasps the back of my head, pulling me closer, and I cradle his cock in my cleavage.

  We’re slippery and wet and I can’t drag my gaze from what I’m doing. His groan echoes around the shower, and
his fingers bite into my scalp, and I’m rubbing myself over his erection as though this is the only thing in the world that matters.

  Right now, it is.

  His free hand grips my shoulder and slides down my arm in a possessive gesture. The tribal ink markings on his pecs are primal and stark and so incredibly sexy I want to lick him there.

  “Use your hands.”

  I’ve never been with a guy who tells me exactly what he wants before, but I love it, especially since his voice is all gravelly, as though I’m driving him to the edge of his control.

  I wrap my hand around him. He’s so thick and hot and all I want to do is mount him and feel that gorgeous cock fill me once again. My breath escapes in a harsh pant, and I cup his heavy balls with my other hand. Oh, wow. I’m having a hard time not squirming, and then realize I already am.

  He growls and hauls me upright until I’m standing before him. His hands are everywhere, smoothing over my thighs and butt and teasing my waist. I grip his shoulders and arch into him as he presses his mouth against my stomach. His kisses are rough and his teeth nip me as he inches up my body, and the tiny sparks of pain are driving me out of my mind.

  When he sucks my nipple into his warm mouth, I whimper and dig my nails into his shoulders. He’s not gentle and sucks hard, and my clit throbs in tandem to the frantic hammer of my heart.

  He pulls back and I tangle my fingers in his wet hair, trying to drag him back to my breast. It’s like trying to shift a mountain, and he grins demonically at my futile efforts.

  “Get the condom.” He releases me and I stumble across the shower and rip open the packet with shaky fingers. Then I turn around and he’s leaning back against the wall, his hands gripping the edge of the tiled seat, and the muscles on his arms are bulging with suppressed tension.

 

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