Raw and Dirty(38)

A moan escapes my lips, but I don't care. The ocean is loud enough to drown out any noises I might make, and the wind is picking up, sending a neighbor's wind chime cheering and ringing in the silver blue evening air. I let my fingers dip low, tentatively sliding them under his T-shirt and across those hard, tight abs that I've been lusting after since day one. The motion makes us both groan, Royal's fingers clutching me tighter as his breath feathers against my skin and makes me shiver.

Even if what he said about me being wild was a lie, I like it the idea of it. Love it. Something about this man makes me want it to be true though, almost desperately. I let myself relax into my biker chick facade, the leather taking over me and covering up all the little protests that I should be making right now.

When my hands find his hardened nipples, Royal pulls back an inch and looks down at me with half-lidded eyes.

“I don't know about you, love, but I say … fuck the steaks.”

I can't find enough breath to answer, so I let Royal pull away and flick the meat off the grill, following him inside as he tosses the plate into the microwave and leaves the sliding glass door cracked for the dogs.

Nervous jitters try to get the better of me, but I push them back. Tonight, I'm not Lyric Rentz, Deputy Mayor. Tonight, I'm Pint-Size the Biker Chick. The ridiculousness of that makes me smile and helps calm my nerves. What it doesn't do is quench any of the fire I can feel burning for Royal. I want his body on top of mine, in mine, and his hands on my breasts. I want him to kiss me and whisper things to me in that sexy accent of his while he strokes his inked fingers across my bare skin.

And I want it all right now.

“Thought about giving them to the dogs, but I guess you'll be hungry after.”

“Will I?” I ask, a flirtatious edge to my voice that even I don't recognize. Royal hears it, too, and smiles wickedly.

“Baby,” he says, pushing up against me so I can feel his cock straining against the tight seams of his leather riding pants. “Trust me. I'm going to work you harder than you've ever been worked before. You'll need that food in there just to recover enough strength to stand.”

Royal shoves me back suddenly, pinning my body against the living room wall with his much larger frame, leaving just enough room between us to reach up and take hold of the zipper on my leather jacket.

My breath catches.

“Only downside to all this riding gear,” he says as he pulls the zipper down at an agonizingly slow pace, “is that it's a bitch to take off.” I watch his fingers, mesmerized by the color on his skin, the art that he wears so well, the roses and the vines and the pistols. Guess I'll finally get to see what he's hiding under that shirt of his.

But I don't move to touch him, not yet.

He isn't saying anything, but I can feel him taking control of the encounter, forcing me to relax and let go a little. I never really liked being submissive during sex, but … with Royal, I can see the appeal. Right now, I'd let him do anything he wanted. I don't want to have to think about what I'm doing or if I'm making a fool out of myself. I just want to feel him, all of him.

Once the jacket's unzipped, he slides it from my shoulders with that same careful slowness, his fingertips brushing against my bare arms as he tosses it aside and cups my face in his hand.

“I don't know what it is about you, my dear sweet Deputy Mayor,” Royal says, his voice dark and deep and hungry. I feel my tongue sliding across my lower lip. “But I want you. Bad. I want to make you mine.”

He caresses my chin, the power in his grip astounding, but he holds back enough that it doesn't hurt, not at all.

“It's a shame you're so prim and proper or I might be tempted to make you my old lady.” He slides his thumb over my lower lip and instead of telling him off or how we'd never work together, how this is only for one night, I bite it.

Royal's brows come up and his mouth quirks into a grin.

I think we're both enjoying this fantasy.

“Naughty girl,” he says sliding his hand down, trailing his fingers across my throat, over my breasts, until he finds the bottom of my tank top. “I feel like you deserve to be punished for that.” Royal leans in close, leaning down to nibble my earlobe. “The only one who bites in this house is me.”

“Is that so?” I ask as I lift my arms and let Royal pull the tank over my head. He tosses the pink fabric to the floor and stares down at my breasts like a man possessed.

“How the fuck does someone so tiny have such massive tits, Pint-Size? Maybe it's time for a name change. You sure these are natural?”

“Actually, they are. Not used to real boobs, Mr. President?” A shiver slides down Royal's spine as he wraps his arm around my bare waist in a rush of fire and adrenaline. I want him to touch me all over. More, more, I need more.