“Wanker? Is that the best you've got?” I ask as I move up the stairs to my right, hand sliding along the bannister before I turn and glance down at her to make sure she's following. She might not know it yet, but she's walking straight into the wolf's den, pun intended.
Just one taste won't hurt, will it?
“Well, you are British, aren't you?” she quips.
“Ah, but I'm an expat. Hardly counts, right?” I stop at the landing and move aside while Lyric follows cautiously behind me. I have so many other things to worry about right now, but all I can seem to focus on is this. I keep repeating that this is what's best for the club, that taking care of this girl keeps everything running smoothly. But then that's only half the truth. I think my dick's taken over the rest of my brain.
“I guess,” she says, reaching the top and skirting around me like I'm on fire. Or maybe she just doesn't want to touch my throbbing cock. “Bathroom?” she asks again, her voice rife with suspicion, like she expects me to jump her at any moment. I won't lie about that one—I'm about ready to tear that proper little skirt right off.
“Cool it, sweetheart. I'm taking you to one of the dorm rooms. Toilets in there get cleaned by the hang-arounds after every guest and stay clean. The downstairs loo is fucking nasty, even after a good scrubbing. You wouldn't feel comfortable cleaning up in there with a bunch of burly bikers pissing in the urinals, now would you?”
She huffs, but she doesn't say anything, following me down the hall to the third door on the right. I reach down and turn the knob, pushing it open and gesturing for her to enter with a sweep of my arm.
“Thanks,” she says cautiously, scooting past me. When she turns to close the door, I'm right there shutting it for her—and locking it behind us. I don't miss her nervous swallow. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you a first aid kit.”
“You're a strange character, Mr. McBride, you know that?”
“Now, why would you go and say that?” I ask, stepping closer, forcing her to back up so that her thighs are pressed against the edge of the mattress.
“Charming one minute, scary the next. Makes a girl wonder if you're completely sane.”
“Charming, huh?” I ask, reaching up and brushing the back of my hand against her pale cheek. She shudders when our skin makes contact, her own hand coming up and wrapping around my wrist.
“And scary the next,” she murmurs. “You missed that part.”
“But I didn't miss this,” I murmur, sliding my left hand down and under her skirt, cupping her warm heat with my fingers. “You're already wet for me, love.”
Lyric gasps, those pretty green eyes of hers going wide with shock and then blazing over with a rush of heat. I tease her moist panties with my fingers before withdrawing my hand and inserting them into my mouth. Fucking shit. She tastes like she smells—sweet, fresh, bright.
When her hands drop to the button on my jeans, I'm not surprised.
There's a fire burning inside all of that prim and proper.
When she tugs down my zipper, I take that as a sign, shoving her back on the bed and grinning as she settles into the mattress, face burning with desire, lips gently parted, pupils dilated. Oh yes. She wants this as much as I do.
I move over to the desk in the corner and grab a condom from the drawer. We keep them in all the rooms—for obvious reasons.
I hit the edge of the bed and kneel between Lyric's legs, finishing what she started and freeing my cock from my jeans. She doesn't look at me, draping an arm across her forehead as her breathing deepens and a moan breaks from her throat.
I slide the condom over my cock and toss the wrapper to the floor.
“My tights,” she begins, but I'm already a step ahead of her, reaching down and slipping my finger inside a run. A little pressure and the fabric splits easily, giving me access to … a red thong.
“Are you bloody fucking kidding me?” I ask as her eyes snap fully open and she struggles to sit up.
“Oh God,” Lyric moans as I push her back and wrap my hand around her wrists, pinning her against the mattress. “I forgot I was wearing it.”
“Ah, Pint-Size, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?” With my free hand, I reach down and push her sexy panties aside, positioning my cock at Lyric's opening as I look down at her flushed face and wide eyes. Our gazes lock and a possessive urge surges through me. What the hell is wrong with me?
I almost pull away and slip my dick back into my pants, walk away and throw my hands up. It's what I should do. Our weapons shipment from Seventy-seven Brothers is late and Smoky says he's having trouble getting ahold of his guy. Not good.
“Royal,” Lyric begins, sensing my hesitation and trying to pull her wrists from my grip. But when I look at her, holy hell, it's like I'm a man possessed. I push the head of my cock against her opening and slide into her, inch by achingly painful inch.