by Joya Ryan
“Sure,” Ryder said sarcastically. “Which is why you can’t finish a damn sentence and are lurking in the corner.”
“I’m not lurking, I’m scouting.”
“Right.” Ryder slapped his back. “Good luck with that, buddy. Especially since your target is retreating.”
Huck’s focus snapped back to where Autumn had been. She was gone. He looked around the room and caught a glimpse of her flowy dress as she left the reception and headed toward the hotel lobby.
Screw it. No way was he letting her out of town without bringing her back to his bed.
He’d seen her return his fuck me eyes. He wasn’t about to ask her for anything else, but one more night? He needed it. Needed to feel her unravel under his touch. Needed to feel her melt on his tongue.
This was his chance to show her that he was fine. Hell, to show himself that he was fine. Better than fine. He could leave. And he would.
Once he’d exhausted her, he’d leave. Like he always did. And the world would make sense again. He’d prove to his own damn self that he wasn’t attached and didn’t have some complex about being ditched.
…
Autumn walked to her motorcycle in the parking lot. Opening her pack on the back, she kicked out of her heels and put on a pair of black leggings and boots. She was ready to hit the road. The wedding and reception had been nice, but she’d also been hit with the stunning realization that she had no one in her life besides Jenna, who was leaving.
Autumn had been forced to stand at the reception like an out of place freak while she tried not to stare at Huck. He seemed to have no problem with staring at her. At one point it had seemed like he was walking towards her, so she’d escaped out the side door and to the parking lot, where she was now ready to leave.
“He’s just trying to rattle me,” she assured herself as she zipped up her pack, slung her leg over her bike, and started it up. The 1965 Indian was the only thing she had left of her grandfather, which made it her most prized possession.
He’d been the one who’d taken care of her when her father wasn’t around, taught her about bikes and cars. The auto shop had been the one place she felt confident, capable, and loved.
He’d died when Autumn was ten.
Since her father hadn’t cared if the shop went into the ground, she’d helped keep the place running from a young age. Anything to keep the memory of her grandfather alive.
And it was gone now.
But the bike was hers—the only thing she could count on, since she’d rebuilt it herself. Her grandfather was the one person who’d given a damn about her, and despite losing everything else, she still had his memory and the skills he’d given her.
Looked like the two wheels and motor she balanced on was her only semblance of home, and it was constantly moving.
She pulled out of the hotel and away from a mass of people and a scene she’d never be a part of, and then she hit the highway, heading toward Diamond, trying not to think about how pathetic it was that her only true sense of stability came from a machine, not a soul.
Chapter Four
“Damn it.” Autumn tugged on the zipper on the back of her dress. She was starting to think this stuck zipper thing was a flaw in all of the dresses.
She’d gotten to Jenna and Colt’s house, put her stuff in the guest room, and attempted to take off the pink thing of death.
Their house was amazing. Spacious, surrounded by land, and just far away from the town and its loud bustle that she could hear the wind blow through the grass and the crickets sing.
Her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t even eaten today. She’d find something later. First she had to get out of the dress. She tugged harder on the zipper. “Come on you. Piece. Of. Shi—”
A knock came at the front door.
Great.
She hustled over and opened it—and froze. “Huck.”
He was still in his tux, but it was unbuttoned, tie hanging around his neck like she’d seen earlier today. Only now he’d ditched the coat and rolled his shirtsleeves, leaving him looking like a sinful version of James Bond meets Kansas bad boy.
She’d thought leaving the wedding would be the last she’d see of him. How had he found—?
Oh. Of course he knew where Colt and Jenna lived.
“I came to give you something since you took off before the best part of the night,” he said.
“And what part is that?” she asked.
He brought forward a hand from behind his back. He was holding a plate. “The cake.”
She frowned at the offering. “You brought me cake?”
He shrugged. “You didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself much. And I didn’t see you eat once today.”
“Monitoring my eating habits now?”
He shook his head. “Listen, we don’t have to get along for this to work.” He held up the cake again. “I’m trying to make peace here.”
She rolled her eyes. He was just trying to get her to give in to whatever game he was attempting to play. “Peace, huh?”
“Yep, and before you try to talk yourself out of it, maybe consider this as a kind of wedding present for the two people we both care about. We can at least pretend not to be at each other’s throats.”
Jenna and Colt. The guy in front of her was wrong about a lot, but he wasn’t wrong about that. This was the beginning of their friends’ happily ever after. Autumn would die before she did anything to step on that.
She wondered what it was like for them. To live in a happily ever after thanks to finding each other and doing whatever it took to claim their love. To light up whenever they saw each other come into a room. Usually anytime someone Autumn knew came around, a dark cloud laced with dread wasn’t far behind.
Whether it was from a man—Sorry, Auto, you just don’t do it for me anymore—or her dad—Sorry, Auto, I lost the shop to my bookie.
She’d learned that even if things were going well, it was only a matter of time before the bottom fell out. She looked at the cake—her stomach growled on cue—then glanced at the man holding it. A different kind of growl came from her then, because the guy looked more edible than the slab of vanilla frosting.
Just because I want him doesn’t mean anything serious, or that I will mix that up with him wanting more from me. No matter how sweet the gesture of feeding her.
“Look.” He took a step toward her but remained on the porch. “You’re so hungry I can see drool on the side of your mouth.” Her hand shot to her lips, then she frowned. He only smiled. “Unless you’re drooling for another reason?” He winked, and she wanted to punch him. Maybe kiss him. At least that would solve her drooling problem.
Except then she’d have an even bigger problem.
It was sort of nice that he cared about her hunger though. Thoughtful even.
“You know, in my experience, two things can instantly make a day better,” he said. “Cake is one of them.” He handed her the plate but stayed on the other side of the threshold.
So this was a game after all. But he wasn’t being pushy. And the gesture was sweet. Literally.
“What makes you think I’m having a bad day?”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Not bad. Just not good.”
And wasn’t that the observation she didn’t need. Because “not good” sounded like the past several hundred days. Never bad, but never good. She just was. She preferred it that way. A simple existence was a safe existence. But she had to admit, it was starting to get a little lonely.
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He nodded. “I know. It’s cool.” But there was a seriousness in his voice, almost like understanding. Whatever magic Huck was working on her, she didn’t know how to combat it, because her walls were slowly chipping away.
“Since you’re here…” She walked inside and set the cake on the table.
But Huck stayed on the porch, like some gentleman—or vampire—that wouldn’t come in unless he was invited. Another oddly c
onsiderate action.
She should send him away. Allowing him in would lead to nothing good.
No, it’d lead to something mind-blowing.
She mentally groaned.
Well, as long as he was here, he could at least help her out of this damn dress. Then, his gentlemanly duty done, she’d send him on his way.
Maybe.
She walked back to the door and presented her shoulders to him. “Can you help me out of this?”
“Ah honey, I thought you’d never ask.”
“It’s stuck,” she clarified. But his hands were already working on the zipper, and the feel of his fingers sliding down her back as the material gave way made tingles race up her spine.
“What’s the other thing?” she asked, trying to keep focus and not give in to the amazing way he touched her. “You said there are two things that turn a day around. What’s the other besides cake?”
She felt his breath against her neck. “Orgasms, of course.”
She turned in his arms, holding up the bodice of her dress. Huck gently ran his knuckles along her spine, then found her long hair and combed through the ends.
Being within his strong grasp felt nice. Suddenly the house didn’t feel so big, and she didn’t feel so cold.
“That’s a pretty big piece of cake,” she said. He nodded but seemed content to gently stoke her hair while his green gaze ate her up. “Would you like to share it?”
“Yeah,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at the cake. His eyes were on her barely covered breasts.
If she was going to get rid of him, the time was now. Because if she waited a second longer, she wouldn’t have any willpower left.
She swallowed hard, turned…and gave in. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I just need to get dressed.”
She hustled to her room. She kept the leggings on but tossed off the dress and put on a black tank. No need to bother with a bra. She went back to the kitchen and found Huck sitting at the table with two forks.
Cake.
And Huck.
Hard to say which one looked more tasty.
She sat across from him.
“You like vanilla?” He stabbed the cake with his fork, and then took a bite, never taking his eyes off of hers. Nothing about this man seemed vanilla. And judging by his hot stare, they were talking about more than cake.
“It’s all right,” she said. There was a faint innuendo to the question, so she went with honesty. “My tastes are more dark. More bold.”
She took a small bite, and he watched her every move.
“That right? So more of a chocolate kind of girl?”
“Red velvet.”
“Of course you are.”
His gaze drifted to her mouth, then her breasts, then back to her eyes. She took a moment to look at the devilishly handsome and rugged man in front of her.
One night. Those two words thumped on her brain. Yet she wondered about one thing.
“How did the rest of your evening go last night?” She took another nibble of the cake.
Huck stilled his fork and looked her dead in the eye. “It was pretty shitty actually.”
She frowned. “Oh?”
“Yeah. See, I started out wrapped around this gorgeous body. This woman then said, ‘I’ll be right back.’ Imagine my surprise that I dozed off in the first place, only to wake up and find she’d left without saying goodbye.”
“So that’s all you really want from me? A chance to say goodbye?” She was trying to tease him, but then she realized how important the question was to her.
His smoldering gaze took in her entire body. “Oh, honey, I still want you. Just waiting for you to stop feigning politeness and get on with it.”
She raised an eyebrow. He was calling her out. Fine. She could play this game too. She wasn’t some simpering female that fled at the first gaspable word. He was seeing how hard he could push her. Time for her to push back.
“Get on with it, huh?” She stood, walked to his side of the table, and kicked his chair leg out, forcing him to face her. He was sitting, she was standing over him, and the man just smiled with all the confidence in the word. He threaded his fingers and put them behind his head.
Uh-huh. He was waiting for her next move.
“What exactly would you like me to get on?” she rasped, flicking at the icing with her fingertip. She sucked it into her mouth and held his stare. That got him to breathe a little heavier. He wanted to throw out words and try to get a reaction? She could do the same thing. No one had ever accused her of having a mouth like a lady.
“What are my options?” he said.
“I could get on your cock,” she said, and before he could he respond, she straddled his lap and grinded once for good measure. She scooped another helping of icing onto her finger. “I could ride you all night, until you’re spent and exhausted and begging for a break.” She trailed a line of icing along his lower lip, then leaned in and licked it clean. “Or I could push you down and get on that hot tongue of yours.”
He hissed, and his tongue darted out to meet hers, but she backed away just in time. He growled.
She held up her wet finger. “So you see, honey, you’ll have to be more specific on what it is you want me to get on with.”
That low rumble in his throat was one she was starting to recognize. Clearly Huck Galvin was used to a certain kind of woman. The pretty, sugary-sweet kind that fell at his feet and begged for a single touch.
She could understand. He was gorgeous.
But whether it was pride, stubbornness, or the fact that Autumn had never been good with begging for anything, she needed to make it clear she was not that kind of woman. He wanted a night with her? He’d have to fight for control of it.
“I like where your mind is headed,” he said as he took his own swipe of frosting. “There are a few details you’re skating over though.” With his free hand, he tugged down her tank top and wedged it beneath her bare breasts.
She gave him that one gesture. Not because she was giving him power, but because she refused to show a single sign of shyness.
He glanced at her face, and she simply lifted her chin with a silent challenge. A challenge he looked ready to accept. He slowly spread the vanilla icing over her nipple. “While I love this idea of you riding any part of me, I want to make sure I get to sample all you offer first.” He met her eyes and gave a sly grin. “It’s only fair.”
With that, he splayed his hands on her ass, leaned in, and devoured her sugar-coated breast.
A small moan escaped her, and she couldn’t resist tunneling her hands in his hair. He licked and sucked her nipple like it was candy, which it practically was at the moment. He took so much of her sensitive flesh into his mouth that she felt tingles from her entire breast spread to her spine. God, that metal ball in his tongue did delicious things to her nerve endings.
He sucked hard and cleaned her entirely before pulling back and looking at his handiwork.
“Since you’re so keen on this ‘fair’ idea,” she said, a little breathless, and raised his shirt with one hand. She used the other to spread some icing over his chest. She bent and licked him from sternum to pec. Eyeing the tempting ink, she couldn’t help but run her tongue along the tattoos on his chest before clamping down on his nipple and flicking the barbell that pierced it.
“Ah fuck,” he hissed, and his fingers threaded in her hair. She knew he was sensitive there, but the way his skin heated several degrees in less than a second showed her just how much.
So she continued to play—sucking and biting, loving the faint sound of the metal clanking against her teeth when she did. The smallest sounds were the biggest turn on. She’d never been with a man with piercings before, or tattoos of this extent. But her whole body was responding to every hard ridge and feel of Huck Galvin.
“I knew the moment I saw you that your mouth was going to frustrate me,” he rasped.
She peeked up. “Frustrating huh?” Keeping her eyes on him, she moved
to his other nipple and bit down. He gritted his teeth, and his fingers in her hair tightened until her scalp stung, but she didn’t pull away. “That frustrates you?” She nibbled at his piercing again.
“Yes, very much. In the best damn way. I’m set to show you just how I’m going to frustrate you so hard, right here on this table.”
He obviously held back, but there was so much power and strength to him, she wondered if anyone ever tapped into it. Did he even give into it? So far, he seemed to be a master at holding back. But she’d felt his power the other night. Knew there was more ready to be unleashed. If they only had tonight, she may as well get all she could from him.
She reached between them and unbuckled his belt while he took his shirt off. Lord have mercy, the sight of him made her sigh. She was realizing real quick that muscles and tattoos and piercing—and Huck himself—seemed to be her type.
No, not my type.
Wrong kind of guy. His idea of commitment was shutting the door behind him, and that was something she’d seen the first night they met. She wasn’t interested in counting on someone that couldn’t be counted on. She wasn’t interested in counting on someone period.
So she’d sigh and swoon at the impressive package he offered, and come early morning light, she’d get over it. That was the plan, at least. There was no reason to worry about this going further than one night at a time.
But she wouldn’t think of that now. Instead, she’d own him. Own everything he was willing to give. She just might even let herself get a little lost again.
With a few quick moves, her leggings and panties were a gone. She was back to straddling him and tugging down his pants, which was tricky, because he was still sitting. But she got them barely over his hips so his cock could spring free, and she wasted no time gripping him.
“Damn, honey,” he said. “You get right to the point.”
“Oh I’m sorry.” She looked him in the eye and squeezed a little tighter. “Did you want me to slow down and make sweet, sweet love to you?” She gave an exaggerated sigh to the ceiling and stroked him once, causing a moan to escape his amazing mouth. “I was under the impression you wanted me to get on with it.”