I feel comfortable with him, and that might be because I’ve already slept with him. I know this biker intimately, and somehow my body still calls for his.
“I have a situation I need to handle back at the clubhouse,” he rasps, tilting my head back, using my hair as a handle. The gentle tug has my nipples tightening. “Will you be awake later?”
My bottom teeth rake over my lip. “Maybe.”
He pushes his hips against me, letting me feel how hard he is. “I fucking hope so. Send me a text if you want me. If you don’t, I’ll take it as a no.”
He enters his number into my phone, hands it back to me, and then walks me to my door. I’m about to open my mouth to say goodbye when he gently pushes me back against the door and kisses me.
Not a sweet, soft kiss. No. It’s a claiming one.
His tongue tastes mine, and his hands lower to my ass while he takes what he wants from me. When he pulls away, it’s on my lips to beg for him to stay. I need to come so bad right now, but my pride keeps my mouth shut.
“Get inside, now,” he growls, putting space between us.
I quickly unlock my door and close it behind me, leaning against the cold wood as I take deep breaths.
As his motorcycle roars away, I get into bed, open my nightstand drawer, and pull out my vibrator. It only takes a few vibrations on my clit for me to come.
Lying back on my emerald-green sheets and looking up at the ceiling, I wonder what was going on at the clubhouse.
Will he eventually take me there?
Would I even want to go?
What about the women?
Is he with one of them now?
Gritting my teeth, I roll over onto my side with a sigh.
He’s not mine.
If he’s with someone else right now, it’s none of my business.
But if he is, I wish he’d stop chasing me.
It might be a game to him, but I’ve got a lot more to lose.
Deciding not to text him to come over, I fall asleep, replaying his lips on mine and his hard cock pressing against me.
I need to get laid.
And soon.
He doesn’t see me, but I sure as hell see him. He’s walking into the bar with a few other bikers, three men in a row, all wearing the same Royal Bastards MC cut. They are all tall, muscular, and catch the eye of every woman who passes them. There are two women with them, both wearing short denim shorts and small tops just covering their breasts. They look good. Sensual. I watch as one grabs onto Chance’s arm, and he looks down at her as she says something. She laughs as she seductively runs her hand down his biceps. The other woman then comes up on his other side and slides herself under his free arm. They are all pasted together, as if they are very comfortable with each other.
I absently rub my tight chest, suddenly feeling ill.
I didn’t text him back, haven’t heard from him in a week, and now he’s out with other women while I’m picking up food for one at a restaurant. How sad is that? Not wanting him to see me, I duck my head with the bag in my hand and head down the road toward my car. Did he bring one of those women on the back of his bike? The thought makes me frown. Once they are inside the bar, I turn on my engine and am about to drive home when I see someone coming up to my window. Turning my head, I come face-to-face with someone I’d rather not see right now.
He taps on the window, and I hesitantly lower it. “Cash.”
Resting his hand on top of my car, he lowers his face. “Everything okay?”
I nod quickly. “Yeah, just getting some food and heading home. You?”
He lifts his chin toward his scooter. “Yeah, doing the same. Waiting for a few of the club brothers.”