Risky and Wild(73)
“Tell you what, Pint-Size,” I say as I slide the ring off her finger with a smirk that I don't feel. Inside, I'm fucking empty. “I'll make this real easy for you, okay?” When she looks over at me, I almost lose my resolve. Instead, I spin the ring around in my hand. “I was planning on giving this to Mia before you showed up anyway. I bet if I called her up, she'd say yes in a heartbeat.”
“You're lying,” Lyric growls at me. Fierce. Wild. Short and curvy and sexy and perfect. I grit my teeth against the pain. “You can't use reverse psychology on me, Royal. I'm too goddamn smart for that.”
“There's nothing psychological about it, sweetheart. You either have the stomach for this or you don't. If you can't cut it, then get lost.” I nod my chin towards the front door as the dogs pause in their game to look over at me. They were fighting over a piece of rope, but now both of their wild gazes are firmly focused on my face. Must be something off in my voice. “Go. Get the fuck out of my house. You're nothing but trouble anyway.” I slip the ring back in the pocket of my cut and start towards the door. When I open it, Lyric's still standing in front of the stove staring at me. She's short enough that the hood doesn't block any of her pretty face. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“If this is your plan to make things better, you suck at it,” she snaps, but I can hear the edge of uncertainty in her voice. Hell, as far as she knows I'm completely serious. It's not like we know each other all that well anyway, right?
“You go, and I'll call a woman that won't hesitate when I invite her into my life.” A pause. “Into my bed.”
“Stop it!” Lyric yells, but she doesn't bother to move from her spot, positioned there like she's grown roots. “You think you're helping me? You're only making things harder. This is my choice,” she points to her chest, “my choice and not yours. Stop trying to make it for me, Royal.”
“Get the fuck out!” I scream, and I'm not even sure at this point why I'm still doing this, making this miserable, stupid decision. “Enjoy your stay in the White House, Deputy Mayor. I hope you get there someday.”
“If you want me out of here, you'll have to drag me out,” she snarls back, turning off the stove and moving around the island to glare at me. We look at each other for a long while, so long that Lake ends up crawling into the space between us and letting out an anxious whine.
Slowly, I reach up and place my palm against the door. And then I slam it back into place.
Six good strides gets me across the room, puts Lyric in my arms, gets hers around my neck. Our mouths are hot and hungry, fighting for one another, desperate to dive deeper. We stumble back and into the kitchen island, knocking over the bottle of Johnnie Walker and not giving a shit. I have no idea what this means, but hell if I can stop myself.
My hands are sliding the straps of the jumpsuit down her shoulders as she yanks her arms out, lets the fabric fall, and bares a lacy black bra with a tiny diamond charm in the center. It's as elegant, as sexy, as the outfit that was hiding it.
I want to tear it right the fuck off.
I shove Lyric's jumpsuit down her body, leaning over so she can kiss and bite at my neck, taste the racing heartbeat of my pulse in my throat. Her lips are warm, her breath like wings against my heated skin. I can't decide if this is a good-bye fuck or a hello fuck, but it's passionate and wild and everything I've ever wanted from a woman.
“What the hell is this?” I ask, my voice harsh and rasping, thick with need. Underneath Lyric's jumpsuit is a gray and black pinstriped corset, cinching her tiny waist in even tighter. “Dear Lord, woman, don't you do anything in half-measures?”
She ignores me, threading her fingers through my hair, raking my scalp with her nails as we kiss again, and the seed of an idea forms in my mind. I grin against her lips and then pull back, dropping to my knees on the floor as I take the jumpsuit with me. The legs are wide enough that the whole thing slides right over those little boots she's got on, leaving Lyric in a matching black lace thong.
“Jesus Christ.” I press my tattooed hands against the pale flesh of her bare hips and push her into the counter, dropping my mouth to the warm heat between her thighs. My tongue slides across the dark lace, nipping at it gently with my teeth as Lyric moans and bucks her hips against my face. As soon as I get her warmed up, I'm taking her into the garage where my bagger's currently parked. If this is our last time together, I have to do this, have to have her over my bike.
I slide my hands down Lyric's body, over the corset, gripping her bare cheeks in tight fingers as I taste the sweetness of her body through her panties. Her arousal is obvious, even through the lace, soaking the fabric as I glide my tongue over the hardened nub of her clit, my fingers dancing up the inside of her thigh and slipping into her pussy.