Biker Chicks: An Anthology of Hot MC Romance (13 page)

I handed him the other water bottle. “You don’t think she loves you, do you? I mean, if she actually cared about you for yourself, she wouldn’t have skipped the part where she either asks you or waits to be asked. Your opinion is supposed to matter for something important like getting married.”

“Oh. I...hadn’t really thought about it.” Staring at the bottle in his hand, he frowned. “I’ve known her since middle school, when our moms met in a book club. They set us up together on a date during my freshman year in high school, and everything just kind of...happened, I guess. I never asked her to anything, she’d just show up and make decisions and drag me along to everything. I didn’t even want to go to prom with her, but I did.”

The poor guy. Three women had pushed him around and he’d never pushed back. I almost felt bad for telling him not to resist me on the bike. “Why?”

He rubbed his thumb on the bottle’s label. “I don’t know. Everyone expected it, I guess. Mom scooped me up one day and had me fitted for a tux and bought a corsage, and set up a limo and everything else.”

“Have you ever done
anything
on your own?” The idea of having someone else make all the decisions for me grated so hard I had to rub the goosebumps that formed on my arm.

After a long minute or two, he shrugged. “I can’t think of anything. Dad bought the car for me. Mom picked my major and my college. They even chose my essay topics and community involvement projects. I did all the work and got good grades without them, so there’s that.”

“Aren’t you a good little trooper.”

If he sighed too many more times, I’d have to hit him. “Yeah. I guess so.”

I realized something that made me raise my brow. “Wait a minute. If you’ve been dating Miss Bitchy-Pants since high school, you’ve never dated anyone else.”

“No, I haven’t.” He didn’t bat an eye at the nickname, which I found interesting.

“Jeez, that’s criminal. You can’t marry the only girl you’ve ever banged. That’s like only ever eating baby food for your whole life.”

He huffed a hollow laugh. “Like I have any choice.”

I slapped him. Despite his status as a customer, I had no intention of standing there and letting this hot guy who had everything but a backbone whine about his lot in life.

The blow rocked him to the side and he surged out of the chair to grab my arm and scowl at me. To my surprise, a fierce spark of defiance flared in his eyes, in the corners of his mouth, in the sudden tension across his shoulders, and in his grip on my forearm. The women in his life hadn’t ripped his spine out—they’d only smacked him on the nose every time he tried to use it.

Everything that attracted me to him in the first place came flooding back. I grabbed his tie and kissed him. For a long moment, he stood there, tense and still. When I didn’t let up, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. His hands stayed on my upper back, holding me tenderly, but I didn’t want tenderness. Fridget the Wonder Bitch probably taught him to act like that.

A scene flashed through my head, where he only got to watch her strip down to her expensive lace panties and bra, then she’d turn off the lights and climb into bed with him in the dark. No matter what he wanted, she’d smack him if he strayed too far from vanilla, missionary sex, and lie there while he exhausted himself trying to get off. Later, she’d complain to her friends about the lack of foreplay even though she wouldn’t let him do more.

I grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and pulled away enough to look him in the eyes. He panted and seemed confused and scared. Maybe he felt like a little boy stealing cookies, expecting to get caught any moment. Somehow, knowing he probably needed this more than I did made me want him more.

“What does she call it?” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper, almost a growl. “Making love?”

His hands slid down my back, his touch becoming tentative and light. He looked down and shook his head a tiny bit. “Going to bed.”

The absurdity of using that phrase made me laugh. I grabbed his hand and stuck it on my ass. Leaning in, I purred into his ear. “I don’t want to go to bed, Scotty. I want to fuck.” When his eyes popped wide, I kissed him again and pressed my body close enough to tell he’d gotten hard in those slacks. After a second or two of hesitation, he squeezed my butt and darted his tongue into my mouth.

Something else clattered to the floor as I yanked his shirt up out of his slacks and ran my fingertips over his tight abs. He held my head in place while I found his belt buckle and yanked on it.

“What in blazes is going...on...oh.” I hadn’t noticed the back door flying open until my dad filled the doorway, staring at us.

Prescott jumped and let go, stepping away and turning his back on Dad to stuff his shirt into his pants. I didn’t stop him.

Dad raised an eyebrow. “Angelfish, if you want to grab a piece of ass, you can do it in your bunk. Customers come here sometimes, remember?”

“Sorry, Dad.” I grinned and hung my head, not sorry at all. “This is Prescott. Combo is grabbing his car. Needs a new fuel pump.”

“Dad?” Prescott’s voice pitched high, then he coughed to clear his throat without turning to face Dad. “Um, excuse me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— Uh. Er.” He gulped.

Dad looked at me, his brow dancing to ask for an explanation. Figuring Prescott didn’t want to admit he sported wood in front of my father, I shrugged and patted my crotch. Dad nodded his understanding. “Well, go on. The mess isn’t too bad. Boomer can take care of it. Call it payback for all the times he ‘forgot’ to fill the gas tank before letting you borrow his bike.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I stepped to his side and pecked him on the cheek, then returned to my new toy. Taking Prescott by the arm, I led him out through the front door. He shuffled and half-limped, radiating awkward discomfort.

“Maybe this is for the best.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m engaged and all.”

I rolled my eyes and led him to the stairs around the back that would take us to the apartment on the second floor. “Nope.”

“What do you mean ‘nope’?”

“You’re not going to run back to that prissy bitch without knowing what you’re giving up.”

“That’s cheating.”

The wooden steps creaked under our combined weight. He walked up them without resisting. “So is deciding to be engaged without anyone asking or discussing anything. For that matter, so was the prom thing. You can’t just do that
to
someone, you have to do it
with
them.” We reached the door and I tossed it open.

Standing in the doorway, one step up from him, I faced him. He seemed small and lost despite being tall enough that we saw eye to eye like this. “You can choose. I’m not trying to take your choices away. You can turn around and walk away now, and I won’t touch you again. I’ll get your phone and you can call a cab and have a friend pick up your car when it’s ready, or have it towed someplace else. Go back to Bridget. Let her own you. She’ll spend all your money, let you touch her a few times a month until she’s knocked up, and then she’ll ignore you until she wants another baby.”

Maybe I manipulated him a little. Sue me. He was gorgeous and adorable, and I really wanted him naked and sweaty between my thighs. “Or you can come inside and we’ll have the best fuck session of your life with no strings attached. Either way, please shut the door.” I turned and sashayed through the tiny living room, making sure he had a great view of my ass swishing from side to side. For good measure, I pulled my t-shirt off to let him see my black satin bra.

I turned down the short hallway to reach my bedroom and stopped in the open doorway to pull my boots off. When I set them aside, he still hadn’t shut the front door. Either he ran away or he still stood there, trying to decide what to do. This guy needed help. I liked him—not to mention his abs—enough already to be willing to offer it, but only if he could figure that out on his own. He had to make the first real move or nothing would change for him.

The door finally shut. It opened again, then shut again. He did that twice more before he finally stepped around the corner. When he saw me, waiting in the doorway for him, he gulped. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Beckoning him closer with a crooked finger, I smirked. “We can use handcuffs if that’ll make this easier on you. I mean, you’ve been shackled all your life, right?”

He took tiny steps toward me, loosening his tie with shaking hands. His eyes darted around the hall and he gulped again. “Uh. I guess?”

I crossed my arms and decided I needed to rein in the jokes until he got comfortable. “In my bedroom, there’s yes and no. Yes means we do it, no means we don’t. No wishy-washy bullshit, no maybe. We clear?”

When he opened his mouth, a squeak came out. He took a deep breath and met my gaze. “Yes, that’s clear. Am I doing the right thing?”

That one question must have been what kept him outside for so long. As much as I thought he should figure out the answer on his own, he seemed like he needed help to find it. “Everybody you know wants you to marry Bridget, right? What about you, though? Do you want to marry her?”

He reached the doorway with his tie undone and put a hand on the wall to brace himself while he looked back. “I...”

Winding my hands around the ends of his tie, I pulled him into the bedroom. Once again, he didn’t resist. I hadn’t expected him to. “Remember the rules.”

He noticed where we stood and frowned. “Yes or no,” he murmured. He looked down at my breasts and I let him. “She’s never kissed me the way you do.” Lifting his gaze to my eyes again, he took another deep breath. “You kiss like...like you enjoy it. She kisses like...I guess like she hates it.”

I wished he hadn’t said that, because knowing the Ice Queen hated kissing made me feel sorry for her. Maybe when I got their address, I’d send Combo over to collect Prescott’s things and take care of Bridget. Combo enjoyed tackling problems of all sorts, especially ones he could get into without his pants on.

“I like all kinds of things,” I said, “including sex. It’s fun and feels good.”

Nodding, he looked away. “I was out on that road because she and Mom set up a job interview for me. Thing is, I like the job I have. They think I’m not getting promoted because there’s no upward mobility where I work, but I’ve turned down a promotion twice now. On purpose. I don’t want to be in management, I want to code.”

I smiled at him. “So you made a decision, huh? All by yourself and everything.”

“Yeah.” He gave me a small smile. I’d thought him striking before, but now I couldn’t wait to get him to flash his pearly-whites. “I guess I did. I probably would’ve flubbed the interview on purpose.” He raked a hand through his short hair. “They’ll reschedule it for me. And then find another place to send me. And another and another, until it’s a matter of them getting me hired without an interview. In whatever job they think I should have.”

He blew out a heavy breath. “For the rest of my life.” One more deep breath in and out, and I could see the gears churning in his head. He set his hands on my hips and pulled me closer, his gaze settling on my lips. “No, I don’t want to marry Bridget.”

Hearing him say that made me want to cry. I beamed at him. “Then what do you want?”

“I think...” Taking another deep breath, he shook his head. “I
know
I want you, Angelfish. At least for today.”

Pleased by the answer, I pulled on his tie and planted my lips on his. Never before had I been with someone classy enough to wear a tie, and I had to admit I liked having a leash around a guy’s neck. Maybe I could get him into some kink with it, but nothing too wild or crazy. The poor guy could get overwhelmed.

His hands rubbed gently up and down my back, reaching too high and not low enough with every stroke. As much as I liked his frantic mouth, I broke off the kiss and pushed him away enough to see his face. I licked my lips and had to tear my eyes away from his. “I’m not Bridget,” I growled.

“I know that.” He held his arms up in surrender.

I let go of one end of his tie and slid it off his neck so I could unbutton his shirt. “Then act like it.”

“What?”

The second button gave me a hard time, and I stared at it as if that would make it pop out of the hole faster. “Don’t treat me like her. I’m not your girlfriend. Fucking-A, how did you get this thing on in the first place?” Annoyed by him and his shirt, I ripped the fucking thing apart. Buttons went flying. Finally, I got to see his chest. Hard, defined pecs and a six-pack of abs lived up to my expectations.

His eyes popped wide. “Jesus.”

With him rooted to the spot, I tugged his belt open and pulled the hook of his pants apart. That gave me enough space to stick my hand in. Before he could freak out or back away, I wrapped my fingers around his package. “I said I want to fuck, Scotty.”

“Uh.” He gulped. “What should I do?”

Poor guy. “All the stuff Bridget never let you try.”

He rubbed a hand down his face and probably had to concentrate extra hard to think while I swirled my thumb around. “Um.”

“Do you want me to tie you up so you don’t have to make any choices?” I held up the necktie and watched him stare at it.

Blinking stupidly, he looked from the tie to me and back several times. “No,” he finally said, the word long and drawn out like he couldn’t decide if he meant it or not until the end. “You’re real, right? I’m not hallucinating or dreaming?”

I saw no harm in indulging his insecurities about being a big boy. “Yep, ‘fraid so. One hundred percent real woman standing in front of you, over eighteen and fully consenting.” With one last squeeze, I pulled my hand out of his pants.

He chewed on his lip and gulped again. As he stood there staring at me, his eyes lit up. “Can I tie
you
up?”

A grin spread across my face and I felt warm all over. “Only after you get my bra off.” I leaned over and threw the door shut, suspecting he’d be disturbed by an audience.

“Okay.” He reached around me and tugged my bra free with rough, cool hands.

I did him the favor of popping the button on my jeans and unzipping the fly. While I did that, I got an idea to help him forget about Fridget’s training. Grinning, I held up the necktie again. “There’s a hook on the back of the door. Give me enough slack and you can bend me over to fuck me from behind.”