Reaper's Fire
Page 26
“Cooper?” she asked, looking confused. I blinked a couple times, forcing myself to focus on her face.
“I’m going to watch another one,” I told her, because I’m a goddamn masochist. “You sure you’re ready to head out?”
She frowned, and I could almost read her thoughts. Yes, she should leave. But she wanted me as much as I wanted her. And yeah, I realize that makes me sound like an egotistical ass, but this wasn’t my first rodeo. I saw the lust in her eyes, and the way she licked her lips and stared at my mouth. This wasn’t a one-way street, not even close.
“I guess I could stay a little longer,” she whispered. Christ, she was so sweet and soft. I wanted to bite her even more now. Suck that pouty lower lip into my mouth and shove a finger up her ass.
Break her.
You’re one sick fuck.
Why yes. Yes, I am. Thanks for noticing.
I managed to control the urge, catching her hand instead, giving it a friendly squeeze like some kind of pathetic tool. Her fingers tightened on mine, then she pulled away and snuggled back down under the blanket, raising her feet to rest on the coffee table. I grabbed the remote and clicked through the menu.
Tomorrow I’d do my job. I’d fuck Talia and spy on Marsh and look for any kind of weakness that might end this situation, the faster the better. Tonight, though . . . Tonight I’d pretend this wasn’t a waste of time.
Goddamn, but my dick hurt.
• • •
The next hour was torture.
Tinker sat next to me, all cute and classy and absolutely refusing to make any kind of eye contact. I don’t know how she felt, but to me the sexual tension hanging in the air was thick and heavy. I kept thinking about her hand in mine—small, but strong. The hand of someone who knew how to work hard. So far as I knew, Talia had never held down a job, let alone supported herself.
The couch shifted, and I glanced over to find Tinker sliding deeper into the cushions, drawing the blanket up to her chin. Our legs were maybe six inches apart. She shifted again, and then her hand bumped mine under the blanket. She jerked it back quickly, and I caught the hint of a flush on her cheeks. That was another thing I liked about her—her skin was so pale that I could see every hint of arousal.
Grabbing her hand, I pulled it over to rest on my thigh. This was a really bad idea, so I pointedly refused to think it through. Her hand tensed at first, then relaxed into my strength. My cock swelled against the fabric of my jeans, just inches from her fingers—it’d be so easy to push her hand toward it, wrap it around my painfully swollen dick, and just go to town.
Tinker’s fingers gave a quick squeeze—almost more of a spasm—and I bit back a groan.
Yeah, okay. Really, really bad idea. I should get off the couch and shut this shit down right now, because I couldn’t afford to blow things with Talia just yet. Instead I found myself leaning toward Tinker, bumping shoulders.
God.
I’d grown a pussy. No other explanation, because I couldn’t figure out why the hell else an adult man would sit holding hands under a damned blanket like a kid. A member of the Reapers MC, who fucked more women in a year than most did in their lives. A man with blood on his hands. Fresh blood.
But Tinker smelled really good.
I’d get up in a minute—no, five minutes. Five more minutes wouldn’t matter. Tinker sighed, letting her head fall against my shoulder, and I smelled peaches. Christ, I loved the smell of her hair. If Picnic could see this right now, he’d shit bricks. Of course, considering how far the club had stuck its neck out for his woman, wasn’t like he had the right to complain.
Tinker’s hand shifted, brushing against my cock. I heard her breath hiss and she jerked her hand away, but that instant of contact was enough to set me on fire, lava boiling through my veins. Enough of this shit—I wanted her, and I’d waited too long already. I turned, catching the back of her head and pulling her in for a hard kiss, because fuck loyalty.
She stiffened at first, then her lips softened. My tongue slid in and all thought ceased. She tasted like cupcake. Cupcake and caramel and every kind of deliciousness that I wanted to eat. God, what would her pussy taste like? I had a feeling it’d be sweeter than all the rest put together. I thought about all those pretty candies she made, and imagined shoving a piece of caramel up her cunt just so I could suck it back out again.
Jesus, I needed to stop thinking. Right now.
Fumbling with the blanket, I pushed her down onto the couch, shoving a knee between her legs. Fire exploded as my dick met her stomach. I started grinding against her, which made holding the kiss a bit of a contortion, but so fucking worth it. Hell, if kissing her felt this good, what would it be like when—
The front door flew open so hard it cracked the drywall.
I jumped up, shoving Tinker into the couch and reaching for the gun I kept stashed under the couch. I raised it, covering her with my own body, wondering if Marsh had finally figured out who I was. Talia charged in, eyes blazing.
Great. Just fucking great. Exactly the end to the evening I’d hoped for.
“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded. Tinker moaned, and not in pleasure. What a fucking mess. I didn’t feel guilty—I owed Talia jack shit—but I’d dragged Tinker into this, and that was a dick move.
Gotta stop thinkin’ with your cock.
“I need to get out of here,” Tinker said frantically, trying to push me off. I didn’t move, holding Talia’s eyes. For all I knew, she had a weapon—I’d let Tinker up when I knew it was safe, and not a second earlier.
“Talia, get your ass over there,” I said, nodding toward the opposite wall. “Tinker’s gonna leave and then we’ll have a talk.”
“Oh, we’re gonna talk,” she snarled. “Right after I cut your dick off!”
She lunged and I jumped up, catching her before she could reach my landlady. Tinker rolled to the floor, scuttling back and away. Talia tried to knee my balls. I blocked her, grabbing one of her hands and twisting it behind her back. We stood glaring into each other’s eyes, hers promising me a slow, painful death.
Right back atcha, sweetheart.
“Let me go, asshole.”
“Tinker, get out of here. I’ll talk to you later.”
Talia lunged forward and caught my chin in her teeth, biting down like a Tasmanian devil. Holy shit. I reached up, locking my hands around her jaw as Tinker screamed. Something hit Talia over the head, and she unlatched abruptly, spinning around to attack Tinker, who was clutching the motorcycle parts manual that she’d used to defend me.
“I’m going to watch another one,” I told her, because I’m a goddamn masochist. “You sure you’re ready to head out?”
She frowned, and I could almost read her thoughts. Yes, she should leave. But she wanted me as much as I wanted her. And yeah, I realize that makes me sound like an egotistical ass, but this wasn’t my first rodeo. I saw the lust in her eyes, and the way she licked her lips and stared at my mouth. This wasn’t a one-way street, not even close.
“I guess I could stay a little longer,” she whispered. Christ, she was so sweet and soft. I wanted to bite her even more now. Suck that pouty lower lip into my mouth and shove a finger up her ass.
Break her.
You’re one sick fuck.
Why yes. Yes, I am. Thanks for noticing.
I managed to control the urge, catching her hand instead, giving it a friendly squeeze like some kind of pathetic tool. Her fingers tightened on mine, then she pulled away and snuggled back down under the blanket, raising her feet to rest on the coffee table. I grabbed the remote and clicked through the menu.
Tomorrow I’d do my job. I’d fuck Talia and spy on Marsh and look for any kind of weakness that might end this situation, the faster the better. Tonight, though . . . Tonight I’d pretend this wasn’t a waste of time.
Goddamn, but my dick hurt.
• • •
The next hour was torture.
Tinker sat next to me, all cute and classy and absolutely refusing to make any kind of eye contact. I don’t know how she felt, but to me the sexual tension hanging in the air was thick and heavy. I kept thinking about her hand in mine—small, but strong. The hand of someone who knew how to work hard. So far as I knew, Talia had never held down a job, let alone supported herself.
The couch shifted, and I glanced over to find Tinker sliding deeper into the cushions, drawing the blanket up to her chin. Our legs were maybe six inches apart. She shifted again, and then her hand bumped mine under the blanket. She jerked it back quickly, and I caught the hint of a flush on her cheeks. That was another thing I liked about her—her skin was so pale that I could see every hint of arousal.
Grabbing her hand, I pulled it over to rest on my thigh. This was a really bad idea, so I pointedly refused to think it through. Her hand tensed at first, then relaxed into my strength. My cock swelled against the fabric of my jeans, just inches from her fingers—it’d be so easy to push her hand toward it, wrap it around my painfully swollen dick, and just go to town.
Tinker’s fingers gave a quick squeeze—almost more of a spasm—and I bit back a groan.
Yeah, okay. Really, really bad idea. I should get off the couch and shut this shit down right now, because I couldn’t afford to blow things with Talia just yet. Instead I found myself leaning toward Tinker, bumping shoulders.
God.
I’d grown a pussy. No other explanation, because I couldn’t figure out why the hell else an adult man would sit holding hands under a damned blanket like a kid. A member of the Reapers MC, who fucked more women in a year than most did in their lives. A man with blood on his hands. Fresh blood.
But Tinker smelled really good.
I’d get up in a minute—no, five minutes. Five more minutes wouldn’t matter. Tinker sighed, letting her head fall against my shoulder, and I smelled peaches. Christ, I loved the smell of her hair. If Picnic could see this right now, he’d shit bricks. Of course, considering how far the club had stuck its neck out for his woman, wasn’t like he had the right to complain.
Tinker’s hand shifted, brushing against my cock. I heard her breath hiss and she jerked her hand away, but that instant of contact was enough to set me on fire, lava boiling through my veins. Enough of this shit—I wanted her, and I’d waited too long already. I turned, catching the back of her head and pulling her in for a hard kiss, because fuck loyalty.
She stiffened at first, then her lips softened. My tongue slid in and all thought ceased. She tasted like cupcake. Cupcake and caramel and every kind of deliciousness that I wanted to eat. God, what would her pussy taste like? I had a feeling it’d be sweeter than all the rest put together. I thought about all those pretty candies she made, and imagined shoving a piece of caramel up her cunt just so I could suck it back out again.
Jesus, I needed to stop thinking. Right now.
Fumbling with the blanket, I pushed her down onto the couch, shoving a knee between her legs. Fire exploded as my dick met her stomach. I started grinding against her, which made holding the kiss a bit of a contortion, but so fucking worth it. Hell, if kissing her felt this good, what would it be like when—
The front door flew open so hard it cracked the drywall.
I jumped up, shoving Tinker into the couch and reaching for the gun I kept stashed under the couch. I raised it, covering her with my own body, wondering if Marsh had finally figured out who I was. Talia charged in, eyes blazing.
Great. Just fucking great. Exactly the end to the evening I’d hoped for.
“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded. Tinker moaned, and not in pleasure. What a fucking mess. I didn’t feel guilty—I owed Talia jack shit—but I’d dragged Tinker into this, and that was a dick move.
Gotta stop thinkin’ with your cock.
“I need to get out of here,” Tinker said frantically, trying to push me off. I didn’t move, holding Talia’s eyes. For all I knew, she had a weapon—I’d let Tinker up when I knew it was safe, and not a second earlier.
“Talia, get your ass over there,” I said, nodding toward the opposite wall. “Tinker’s gonna leave and then we’ll have a talk.”
“Oh, we’re gonna talk,” she snarled. “Right after I cut your dick off!”
She lunged and I jumped up, catching her before she could reach my landlady. Tinker rolled to the floor, scuttling back and away. Talia tried to knee my balls. I blocked her, grabbing one of her hands and twisting it behind her back. We stood glaring into each other’s eyes, hers promising me a slow, painful death.
Right back atcha, sweetheart.
“Let me go, asshole.”
“Tinker, get out of here. I’ll talk to you later.”
Talia lunged forward and caught my chin in her teeth, biting down like a Tasmanian devil. Holy shit. I reached up, locking my hands around her jaw as Tinker screamed. Something hit Talia over the head, and she unlatched abruptly, spinning around to attack Tinker, who was clutching the motorcycle parts manual that she’d used to defend me.
