“I don’t need vag action, sissy,” I hiss-pered into the phone, darting my eyes around to make sure no one was listening.
“Yes, you do. It’s been, like, forever.”
“Okay, my sex life is none of your concern, Melody Dorothy Morgan.”
“Okay, Mom. Whatever.” She laughed outright this time. “I’ve gotta get back. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Bye-eee.”
And she was gone. If I hadn’t been in public, I think I would have banged my head against something hard. The last thing Melody needed was another man in her life.
And I needed to apologize to the one she’d tried to force into mine.
I wrinkled my nose.
I hated apologizing when I was wrong. I was actually much better at apologizing when I was right.
* * *
Doom
Goddamn fucking bitch! I stalked into the compound and grabbed a bottle of tequila from the bar forgoing a glass.
“Doom!” Rabbit called.
“Fuck off,” I snapped, and headed to my room. I didn’t get far.
“Doom?”
I slowed my pace at the quiet voice of Alamo’s woman, Jasmine, but didn’t stop. “Not now, Jazz.”
“I’ll send Willow,” she warned.
I stalled, turning slowly to face her. “What do you want, Jasmine?”
“What happened?”
I could lie and say nothing, but she knew me, so it would be pointless. And if she turned Willow onto me, then all hell would break loose and I’d be fucked. Willow was Dash’s woman and she used to be a preacher’s daughter. Used to be, only because her father was deceased and she was married to Dash. But she was a quiet force to be reckoned with and had a way of getting information out of me without saying a word. It was uncanny.
“Not really interested in talkin’ about it,” I said.
“Okay, honey, I get that, but disappearing into your room, alone, with a bottle of tequila isn’t really a good idea.” She leaned forward. “After you’ve gone a few rounds with someone…?”
I’d made a quick stop into Burt’s first, but it had been a disappointing detour, so I came back to the club to drink.
“I think it’s a phenomenal idea,” I countered.
“I’m really concern—”
“Doom!” Alamo bellowed.
I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling.
“Doom!” Alamo yelled again, this time louder.
“What?” I bellowed back.
“Visitor.”
“Jesus Christ,” I hissed. “Who is it?”
“Not your secretary, brother.”
“Your old man’s an asshole,” I growled, stalking away from Jasmine.
“No he’s not.”
“Yes, he is,” I argued, hearing her laugh as I walked into the great room and froze. “Oh, hell no. Get her the fuck out of here.”
“Wait,” Lyric said. “Please. Give me five minutes.”
“No.”
“Doom, I—”
“Bitch, you better turn your skinny ass around and slink it the fuck out of here—”
“Lincoln, please,” she begged.
I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath in an effort not to hit the wall.
“Use my office,” Alamo offered.
I scowled at him, but he gave me a chin lift in challenge. I gave him a silent challenge of my own. One that would come in the form of my fist in his face at a time of my choosing. I turned and headed toward Alamo’s office, not caring if Lyric followed me or not.
She did, but it took her a minute because she was still on crutches. I should have been a gentleman and helped her, but as I’m sure she’d discovered in her file, I was an asshole and it was important she didn’t forget it.
Stepping into the office, I opened the tequila and took a long pull before setting it on Alamo’s desk and leaning against the wood. I crossed my arms and waited for Lyric to hobble inside and close the door.
God, she looked gorgeous. She wore a long black and white striped skirt with a slit that obviously helped her maneuver with her boot. Her tight white T-shirt showcased full tits and she’d left her long, blonde hair to fall like a cascade of spun gold around her shoulders. She had a satchel slung diagonally over her shoulder, and the strap settled between her breasts which drew focus and my dick took notice.
I shook my head. I had to shut this shit down.
“What do you want, Lyric?”
“I…I’m really sorry,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Great,” I said, standing. “Have a nice life.”
“I handled today badly,” she whispered. “I am so, so sorry.” She fumbled with her bag, managing to open it with one hand and pulling out a large manila envelope, thrusting it at me. “Take it. I haven’t even looked at it. I have no idea what’s in it. You could be a serial killer for all I know. Or a gigolo.” She wrinkled her nose. “But, honestly, I don’t know which one would be worse to have on your record.”
I couldn’t deal with her beautiful mouth forming words anymore, especially when her eyes grew a little misty and the sincerity of her apology went straight to my dick. I closed the distance between us and covered her mouth with mine, my hand sliding to her neck and stroking her pulse as I deepened the kiss.
Jesus, she tasted like a fuckin’ mint julep. Southern belle to the core.
I heard the clatter of her crutches hitting the floor and she gripped my cut as she held on for dear life, mewing quietly before breaking the kiss. “Oh my god.”
Fuck.
“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” she rasped.
“No.”
She met my eyes. “Do you really think I have a skinny ass?”
“No.”
She sighed. “Good. I spend a shit ton of time at the gym getting that butt…well, I did before the accident. I was nervous it was disappearing.”
“It’s not.”
“Glad you noticed.”
“Are you fucking seriously saying that right now?”
She shrugged. “Well, now that I’m forgiven, I figured we could have a more lighthearted conversation.”
“You’re not forgiven.”
She smiled. “Yes, I am.”
“How do you figure?”
“You kissed me.”
“I’m a gigolo. I kiss a lot of women.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, ho, so now we’re finally sharing personal information.”
“That’s not really personal information.”
“Okay, well, I’d like to use your services, but I’m not going to actually pay you any money. I mean, technically, my sister has already procured you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, right, you don’t know. Melody bid on you so I’d get some ‘vag action.’ And I realized today, she might be right, so I’d like to fuck you.”
“Jesus Christ, Lyric, no way in hell.” If she’d been able to stand on her own two feet, I would have put as much distance between us as possible, but I couldn’t in good conscience walk away and chance her falling.
“Why not?”
I guided her to a chair and helped her sit down and then walked to the other side of the office. “Because I’m not the committing kind.”
“I’m not looking for a commitment.”
“Baby, a woman like you is always looking like a commitment.”
She frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“High class is always looking for commitment and you’re that in spades, Angel. You deserve nothing less. Someone to grow old with, kids, the whole nine.”
She smiled. “I appreciate that, Lincoln, but I’m not looking for commitment. It brings strings I don’t really want. I can’t have kids, so they have never been on the radar for me—”
“Why can’t you have kids?”
“Old injury.”
“What kind of injury would make you unable to have a kid?”
“I was stabbed.”
“What the fuck?” I snapped.
She waved her hand dismissively. “It was a long time ago, Lincoln. It’s done. I’m looking for stress relief and a little levity when I have a hard case. Or several orgasms when I want to bury a client. I work in a very small town and gossip runs rampant, so it would be nice to get that distraction outside of my current sphere of influence. So. Will you be my stress reliever?”
“No.”
“Are you already dating someone?” she asked, then frowned. “Although, why would you kiss me if you’re with someone else?”
“No.”
“Okay, so if you’re free, be free with me.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I countered. “Who got you the file on me?”
“My investigator.”
“And what’s he gonna do with the information?”
“Nothing.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, for one, he doesn’t store anything he gets for me. Unlike my counterparts, I don’t like digital footprints, so he prints everything out, pretty much without looking at it…much, anyway. He throws it into a file and hands it over.” She shrugged. “I mean, I suppose it isn’t outside the realm of possibility that he might save searches and such, but, unless you’re someone he needs to get something from, I can’t imagine why he would. This was a personal, off the books request.”
I scowled. “Don’t like people knowing my business, Lyric.”
“No one does. I mean, at least, that you don’t want to.”
“Sounds like your man does.”
“If he knows anything, he won’t say a word. I would stake my life on it.”
She was so sincere, I almost believed her. Almost. But the problem with believing people who were sincere is that it got your world fucked up.
“Well, let’s hope you’re right.”
“I am,” she said. “So, now that that’s out of the way…”
I shook my head. “We’re not going to do this.”
She shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not a good idea, Lyric.”
“I disagree. I think it’s a great idea, Lincoln.” She rose to her feet and hopped toward me. I sighed and closed the distance between us, reaching for her so she didn’t fall. “It’s just sex, Doom. A little fun. Two gorgeous people in the prime of their life gettin’ a little. We can end it anytime. No harm, no foul.”
“Don’t want to hurt you, Lyric.”
She slid her hand under my T-shirt. “No harm, no foul, Lincoln.”
Lyric
HIS MOUTH COVERED mine again, and I slid my hands under his T-shirt and up his muscular back. Oh my god, I wanted to breathe every bit of his essence into my body.
Breaking the kiss, I gripped his vest. “I really, really want to give you a blow job, but I need your help to do it.”
He raised an eyebrow, his eyes growing dark. “I don’t have any condoms with me.”
“Well, where are they?”
“In my room.”
I bit my lip. “Take me to your room.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck.”
“Please.”
He cupped my face. “You really wanna do this?”
“Yes.”
He stroked my cheek. “Can you maneuver stairs?”
“Slowly, but, yes.” I nodded toward the desk. “Bring the tequila.”
“Is that a good idea?”
“I’ve only had Tylenol today, so it’s a very good idea.”
He grinned, handing me my crutches, then grabbing the bottle of tequila and my bag. “We’ll go slow.”
“Okay, but only if you promise we’ll go fast later.”
He studied me for a second. “You’re gonna be a problem, aren’t you?”
“If you’re lucky, yes.”
He smiled and I almost lost my breath. It was the first time I’d ever seen him smile and it was absolutely magnificent. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he helped me up the stairs and down a long hallway to a large wooden door. He unlocked it and pushed it open, flipping on a light and helping me inside, then kicking the door shut before kissing me again.
“Are you clean?” I asked.
“Yes. Are you?”
“Yes. I have the proof in my bag.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded. “I brought it…in case.”
“Well, if we’re gettin’ all that shit out on the table, I’ve got mine as well.”
We exchanged information, while taking a few sips from the tequila bottle, then I said boldly, “Um, if you’re okay with it, I’d like no condoms.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Fuck me.”
“Yes, exactly.”
He met my eyes. “If that’s the case, we’re exclusive.”
“That sounds like a commitment, Lincoln.”
“I don’t share, Lyric.”
“Again, that sounds like commitment,” I pointed out.
“Well, then, what do you suggest?”
“How about we agree that you glove up if you decide you want to sleep with anyone else and I’ll do the same.”
His eyes danced with humor. “You’ll glove up?”
I smiled. “Yep. I’ll use a big ol’ female condom.”
“I can get behind that.”
“Good. Now, I’d like to wrap my mouth around what I’m sure will be an incredibly beautiful dick, so how about you strip and I’ll sit myself down in that chair over there.”
“How about I make you feel good first?”
“You will, provided you get your clothes off, pronto.”
“You always this bossy?” he asked, running a finger over my jawline.
“I was the youngest partner in my law firm, so, yes.”
“Yeah? Were you also the bad girl of your class? You like to role play, Angel? How about I be opposing counsel and show you my briefs?”
“I’d rather you be the judge, so take out your gavel and get to banging.” I waved a finger toward his dick. “Now, free the peen.”
He chuckled, removing his vest and throwing it on the bed before pulling off his T-shirt.
“Wait,” I demanded, and crooked my finger. “Come closer for a second.”
“Lyr—”
“Hush.” I laid my fingers over his lips and his beard tickled my palm. “I just want to look at you.”
His right arm was covered with tattoos, but his left was bare, which I found sexy as hell. He had a Dogs of Fire logo across his rib cage and I ran a finger over it, his abs contracting as I did. His muscles had muscles and my tongue fully planned to follow the sinewy map as far as it went.
“You are a beautiful man, Lincoln.”
“Thanks, Angel.”
“I want to see the rest.”
“Quid pro quo, Lyric.”
“Huh-uh. My money, my time,” I argued.
“I told you I’m payin’ that back.”
“No, you’re not. The check has already cleared and Melody doesn’t want the money,” I said, tugging at the waistband of his jeans, unbuttoning them and lowering the zipper. “She would have donated it outright, anyway.”
Doom slid his arm around my waist and walked me backwards to the chair, helping me sit down, then removing the rest of his clothes.
“Lordy,” I breathed out at the sight of his cock. “That is perfect.” I licked my lips and wrapped my hand around its girth. He stepped closer and I ran my tongue up the length then wrapped my mouth around the tip, taking him deeper and deeper until his dick touched the back of my throat. I could not get enough.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “You need to slow down, Angel, or I’m gonna come.”
I pulled back, releasing him with a smack. “How long does it take you to recover?”
“Not long.”
“Then, come when you want to come.” I took his cock back in my mouth and took him deep again, sucking and moving my hands in time with my mouth. God, he tasted inc
redible.
His fingers slid into my hair and his hands gripped my scalp as he began to fuck my face, then his body locked and I knew he was close.
“Now, Angel,” he rasped, and I gripped his legs as he exploded in my mouth.
I took every drop and swallowed as he cupped my face, leaning down to kiss me. “Amazing.”
“Agreed.” I ran my tongue over my lips. “I could spend my day feasting on you.”
“Good to know.” He chuckled. “Your turn.”
I smiled. “Okay.”
He helped me up, sliding my T-shirt over my head, then removing my bra. I had to hold onto his waist to keep my balance.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“You need to get off that leg?”
“Not yet. I’ll tell you.”
“Okay, Angel.” He bent down and drew a nipple into his mouth biting gently, then blowing. I slid my fingers into his hair and gripped his scalp.
He kissed his way down my belly, kneeling in front of me and sliding my skirt down my legs, leaving me in just my panties and boot.
“Don’t get too turned on by the boot, Doom. I was warned it can make a man come in five-point-two.”
“I’ll do my best.” He chuckled, burying his face between my legs, his mouth covering my mound over my panties.
Hooking his fingers under the waistband, he slid them down my thighs, maneuvered them over my boot and threw them in the corner, then his mouth was back to its task and his beard was adding to the sensation. I dropped my head back. God, this was amazing. I’d never even kissed anyone with a beard, so this was magical. He ran a tongue over my clit, then between my already wet folds and I gripped his scalp again in an effort to stay upright.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stay upright with you doing that,” I admitted.
He smiled, standing, then lifted me onto the bed gently. Grabbing a couple of pillows, he settled my booted leg over it, leaving my other leg free and I couldn’t help covering my face with my hands.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I feel like I’m getting ready for a pap smear.”
“Jesus, Angel, don’t say that. I’m known around the world for my prowess, don’t limit me to a minor gynecologist.”
I leaned up on my arms. “Prowess?”
Quieting the Biker's Rage Page 5