This also wasn’t a surprise. Tyra did have tits and ass, lots of hair and a serious amount of sass. A woman like that was built to be bedded and often, and Tack took advantage. Then again, that was why Tack accepted her ball and chain. Actually, not so much accepted it as much as forced her to clamp her shackle on his ankle. Given the choice of waking up to Tyra Allen every morning, not many men wouldn’t have accepted that shackle.
“Hey,” he heard Lanie greet him and his eyes moved back to her.
“Hey,” he replied.
Her head tilted slightly down, but her eyes never left his as she remarked, “Getting rowdy.”
“Always does,” he murmured, his gaze moving over her shoulder while he thought, Jesus, she was tall. She had to be five-nine without those heels. In them, she was six-foot-one. Nearly his height. They were almost eye to eye.
He didn’t like this, normally.
Lanie… eye to eye with those fucking eyes?
Shit.
“Wanna fuck?”
At her question, his gaze sliced back to hers as he felt his body jerk in shock.
“Say again?” he asked.
She leaned in slightly, never looking away and repeated, “Wanna fuck?”
Hop stared at her. He’d just watched her walk to him, winding through loud, shitfaced bikers and their bitches, her gait steady. She didn’t move like she was hammered, nowhere near it. Even now her gaze was clear as it held his.
Still, he asked, “You had one too many, babe?”
“No,” she replied instantly and moved closer.
This was not good because, when she did, he could smell her perfume.
Those eyes, bedroom eyes.
That perfume, fuck me perfume.
Jesus, he’d been catching whiffs of it now for years and it never failed to do a number on him. He didn’t know what it was—the fact that it smelled expensive, the intense femininity of it that said, point blank, “I am all fucking woman,” or the fact that it was elusive. If you got one smell of it, the woman who wore it owned you because you’d do anything to go back for more. Any time Lanie got near him, Hop hoped to catch her scent. Sometimes he would. Sometimes he wouldn’t. But every time, he hoped for it.
Now, though, smelling her scent was a very bad thing.
“Not sure that’s a good idea, Lanie,” he told her, gentling his voice as he gave her the honesty.
“Why?” she asked immediately, and he felt his eyes narrow on her before he answered.
“Maybe ’cause you’re best friends with Tack’s old lady. I respect him, I respect her, and shit like this, babe, it gets complicated. Any complication sucks but a complication like this,” he shook his head, “no one needs that.”
She threw out a hand and declared casually, “It won’t get complicated.”
Okay, maybe she was messed up, fucked up, a drama queen, high maintenance and a nut.
“Bullshit,” he replied. “It always gets complicated.”
She moved closer and Jesus, her scent, that hair, those eyes, all so close. If she got any closer he’d physically have to set her away or pick her up and carry her to his room.
“Do you want to fuck me?” she asked. Her voice, sweet and feminine normally, was soft now, a little hesitant, a little excited, and that intoxicating combination was doing a number on him too.
“Babe, you looked in the mirror lately?” he asked back by way of answer. “Man would have to be dead not to wanna fuck you.”
A little smile twisted her pretty mouth and he knew he was screwed because that was cute and fucking sexy as all fucking hell.
Shit.
She got closer and Hop braced. Any closer and she’d be cozied up to him. She was inches away.
“Do you like me?” she asked.
“Everyone likes you,” he answered.
“I’m not asking about everyone, Hop,” she told him and he held her eyes.
“Yeah, babe, you know I do,” he finally answered when she didn’t move or speak, just waited. “You’re funny, you’re cute, you’re hot, and you got no problem letting it all hang out. That’s why everyone likes you. That’s also why I do.”
To that, she returned, “Okay. Good. Then no complications, Hop. Just you and me and tonight. Tomorrow, I won’t expect flowers. I won’t expect a belated courtesy date. I won’t even expect you to take me out for a cup of coffee. This isn’t about that. I don’t even want that. I just want you and sex. No expectations. Nothing but what we have tonight,” she told him. “Tack and Ty-Ty, or anyone, they never even have to know.”
He pushed away from the pole, reached out an arm to put his beer on a nearby picnic table and took a huge chance straightening to her because it meant they were closer. But it also gave him the half an inch he still had on her when she was in those heels and he needed it.