He bent and kissed my chest, then he did precisely what I told him not to and rolled off the bed, yanking his jeans up his hips.
“Hopper Kincaid, uncuff me!” I shrieked.
He stopped on his way to the bathroom and turned to me. “Don’t know, honey. It’s a crapshoot. They’re here often so Tyra and Tack could be just down the hall.”
My mouth snapped shut.
Hop burst out laughing.
This miffed me because he looked good doing it.
He always looked good laughing but somehow, even infuriated, cuffed to his bed, it hit me that he looked better doing it in his room, shirtless, jeans undone, after just having bedded me.
Damn!
I glared at him and watched as he and his great ass sauntered into the bathroom.
I flopped on the bed and jerked my cuffed hand around to see if the slat might be loose.
It wasn’t.
I stopped doing that, stared at the ceiling and seethed.
Mostly I seethed about Hop cuffing me to the bed, grinning and looking good laughing when I was angry, and I did this so I wouldn’t seethe at me getting out of bed at midnight, inexplicably finding trouble that could have been life-altering in a bad way, and ending the night somewhat naked, cuffed to Hop’s bed on Chaos.
I felt Hop come back into the room but I was concentrating so deeply on seething, I didn’t look at him. This got harder when the bed moved as he got in it. It got even harder when his hands wrapped around my ankles, pulled them apart and up, cocking my legs at the knees and planting my feet on the bed.
“You gonna stay pissed as I go down on you?” he asked. I tipped my chin down and saw him up on his forearms between my legs and something about that was exceptionally sexy.
Maybe it was because he was hot and he looked amused and…
Damn.
Happy.
I spoke no words. I just glared.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he muttered.
“Take whatever you want, you’re going to anyway,” I snapped.
“Damn straight,” he stated, dropped his head, kissed my belly then moved down to grasp my ankles.
He threw them over his shoulders.
I closed my eyes and, against my will, my body braced for bliss. It did this from experience. Hop liked the taste of me. He didn’t hide it and he also didn’t hide he liked me wrapped around him when he buried his face between my legs. When he ate me, he did it with my legs over his shoulders so he could eat with me all around, feel my excitement when I dug my heels in his back, scoop me up with his hands at my ass, suck hard and bury his tongue deep.
He lowered his mouth to me.
At just a touch, the heels of my platforms dug in and my neck arched in ecstasy.
Just a note: it was impossible to stay pissed at a handsome man when he had his mouth between your legs.
Especially if he really, really knew how to use that mouth.
So I didn’t.
Our night progressed just as Hop said it would.
Exhausted, I fell asleep against him.
Wearing his dirty tee.
Chapter Four
Take a Chance on Me
The bed shifted.
Or, more accurately, Hop shifted in the bed and I woke.
Keeping my eyes closed, I noted we were spooning. I could feel Hop’s chest against my back; his arm was heavy on my waist and he had one knee cocked into both my bent legs.
All of this felt nice but his knee felt the nicest. It was forced between my legs so his thigh was resting, warm and hard, against the heat of me.
My first thought was to rub myself against his thigh.
My second thought was, I’d forgotten how fabulous it was to wake up next to a warm body cuddling me.
My third, far saner thought was how the hell I was going to get out of there.
This thought flew from my head when he shifted again, and I felt his lips at my shoulder where he kissed me then I felt his body slide gently away.
Gently and carefully, going slow, his hand copped a feel of the skin on my hip, exposed by his tee, which had ridden up. Other than that, it was clear he thought I was asleep and he was doing everything he could not to wake me.
This was, unfortunately, what I was coming to realize was Hop. He tucked me in bed. He kissed my hair, forehead, temple, or shoulder soft and sweet whenever he left me. And he moved carefully in order not to wake me.
Making matters worse, he obviously thought I was asleep.
Still, before he left me, he kissed me.
The gesture didn’t even count for brownie points since he thought I was asleep and he still did it.
I didn’t want more confirmation of knowledge I was trying not to process and I wished I didn’t have it.
So I shoved it into the back of my head.
Then, as I lay there alone in his bed feigning sleep, the events of the evening before crashed over me. This forced me to exert not a small amount of sleepy effort in order not to process the fact that the evening before, I found out a badass biker cared about me and thus kept an eye on me, saved me from being raped, gave me honesty I refused to acknowledge, and then gave me four orgasms before he let me fall asleep in his tee.