Runaway Ride: Alpha Bad Boy Biker and MC Romance Box Set Page 13

  “God, you have such a hot, sexy body,” he murmured. “So much to touch and grab onto. Every time I get my hands on your curves, I lose my mind.”

  My hands dropped away from his hair and traveled down his arms. I stared at the plethora of intricate tattoos that made up his two sleeves.

  “Your tattoos are so sexy.” My fingers brushed the Asphalt Knights coat of arms on his shoulder. “What do they mean?”

  “You want to know now?” he asked skeptically. At my nod, he proceeded to tell me about his journey with the club, starting with the Asphalt Knights coat of arms on his shoulder and ending on his forearm with the insignia that marked him as Vice President. My fingers traced each tattoo as he described them. He then moved onto the other sleeve, which depicted his family history, starting with the Avery family crest and moving to the ink that symbolized his family, both alive and dead.

  I was enthralled by his stories, but not enough to ignore the tugging on my thong or the warm hand caressing my butt cheek. When he used his grip on my ass to rock my swollen clit up against the ridge of his cock and the rough material of his jeans, my pussy flooded with fresh juices and I bit back the moan that threatened to escape. I caught a glimmer of his triumphant smile before he hid it behind a kiss to my left shoulder. I stumbled for words.

  “So what happens if you leave the club?”

  “Why would I leave the Knights?” James asked incredulously.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just a question.”

  “The Knights are my family, I would never dream of leaving them,” James said fiercely.

  “Ok then, sorry I asked.”

  James merely grunted, lifting me off his lap and setting me on the couch. He went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. I could hear him muttering as water ran in the sink. I took the time he was in the washroom to fix my dress and disheveled hair.

  When he opened the door, I apologized.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he grunted.

  “Wanna dance?” he asked.

  “What?”

  James ran a callused hand through his hair and down his face. “We need to get out of here before I have you naked and bent over the couch arm as I fuck you roughly from behind,” he stated in a gravelly voice, and I shivered with anticipation.

  I stood up and backed toward the door, opening it and entering the hallway with James hot at my heels. We walked silently down the hall, the heat of his palm on my lower back as he guided me back to the party, causing phantom heat to spread across my body.

  I was again caught off-guard by the change in volume as we moved into the main room, but James didn’t even miss a beat as he guided me smoothly onto the dance floor. I saw him give someone a look over my head, but I had no idea who he was looking at and he held me too closely for me to get a good look behind me.

  After a few songs, he led me over to a table where he introduced me to the President of the club and his wife. I’d only been seated a few minutes when a man I’d danced with earlier in the evening approached and asked if I wanted to dance. Before I had a chance to answer, I felt James’ arm wrap around my shoulder and pull me tightly to his side. He ignored the frown I shot him because he was too busy glaring at my potential dance partner, who hastily made his retreat.

  Unimpressed by his possessive behavior after having only known him for an hour, I pushed myself out of the booth and onto the dance floor. After all, I’d come here to let loose, not to sit back and watch the world pass me by.

  I wasn’t surprised when James followed me out onto the floor, or when he immediately pressed me up against his body, but I was surprised by the angry, edgy kiss he bestowed on me. We were so focused on each other that we were unprepared when we were struck by a large body from the side, knocking us flat on our asses.

  I looked up to see two hulking brutes exchanging blows and wrestling in the middle of the dance floor. Even more shocking was the mob mentality that overtook the crowd in the room. Instead of stepping in and breaking up the fight, a circle was starting to form around the tussling men and bets were being made on who would win the fight. James was helping me to my feet when I caught the silver flash of a knife out of the corner of my eye. One of the men swung his bowie knife toward his ducking opponent, knocking the knife-wielder off balance and sending him stumbling toward me with his arms raised and the tip of the knife pointed at my heart. I felt the cut of the knife as I was physically lifted and placed behind James’ broad back as he roared.

  “STOP!”

  Either the room went silent or I couldn’t tell what was being said over the buzzing in my ears. As I started to go into shock, my vision narrowed and my knees collapsed from under me. I felt arms surround me but I couldn’t tell who held me. It was only when I came back to awareness sitting on James’ lap with his arms securely fastened around me as I trembled that I realized how close I had come to being seriously injured. I looked down at the the sliced strap of my dress and bra.

  “I want to go home,” I whispered. I tried to pull the lapels of my jacket together but my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t get a good grip on the soft leather.

  James squeezed me tighter. “Ok doll. I’ll take you home.”

  “No!” I yelled. I cleared my throat and tried again at a more normal volume. “No, I came with a friend. We promised we’d go home together.”

  James directed my attention to my friend in the corner currently sucking face with a man with dreadlocks. She didn’t look ready to come up for air anytime soon.

  James brushed the hair out from my eyes and tucked it behind my ear. I couldn’t help but notice his fingers were trembling as hard as I was. “I’m not sure your friend is ready to go. It’s not a problem to take you home.”

  I blew a breath from pursed lips and contemplated the offer. “I still need to tell her I’m going.”

  “Fair enough.”

  James helped me up and I started forward to interrupt the make-out session, but chickened out halfway when the man pulled her through the door that James had stopped me from entering earlier that evening. I spun on my heels and walked back to the booth.

  “On second thought, I’ll just text her. Let’s go.”

  James guided me to the parking lot with a hand on my back while I sent a quick text. When he stopped in front of a motorcycle I looked up at him in surprise. “You’re taking me home on a motorcycle?”

  “Well, it is a motorcycle club,” he replied drily.

  “Right… sorry.” I took the offered helmet and put it on, waiting while James adjusted the straps to his liking and helped me zip up my jacket. I was still coming down from my adrenaline high, so I didn’t really acknowledge his touch.

  After getting on the bike, James turned to help me up behind him, giving me instructions on how to ride as a passenger on a bike. When I scooted up closer behind him, the backs of my thighs rubbed against the leather seat, pushing up on my skirt. I cursed my wardrobe choice again as we wound through the city and the whipping wind lashed at my exposed legs while the combination of the rumbling engine and warm body between my legs made me forget the scare I had just had.

  Arriving at my apartment complex, James gave me a hand off the bike and then followed me up to my apartment. I hesitated at the door. I knew it would be only polite to ask him in after he drove me home, but I was also wary of what I would do if I got him alone in an empty apartment. While I was debating, he took charge and simply took the keys from my hand and unlocked the door, herding me through the door with his body.

  “You got a first aid kit?” He said as he took off his jacket, clearly making himself at home.

  “What?”

  “First aid kit?”

  I pointed to the bathroom. “Why do you need a first aid kit?” A thought hit me. “Did you get slashed by the knife?” I took a step forward to examine him for injuries, but he caught me before I could touch him, dragging me into the bathroom and picking me up to sit me on the countertop.


  “Kit’s for you.”

  “Me?”

  He fingered the sliced strap of my dress. “I want to make sure you don’t need stitches.”

  “But he didn’t cut me.” I protested weakly.

  James grunted and pulled my jacket off my shoulders to expose the injured area. He then pushed the top of my strap over my shoulders and pulled the bottom of my strap away to expose the top of my breast. His breath stuttered, but otherwise he seemed intent on doctoring my non-existent cut. He reached under the sink for the first aid kit. I took the time to examine the area for myself. When he stood up, I was lifting up my breast in an attempt to bring it into the light and get a good look.

  “Hell,” he breathed out.

  Still holding my breast, I glanced up. “I don’t think he got me. See?”

  He reached over and pushed my hand off so that his hand could take its place. “Let me look.”

  He took his sweet time looking over every inch of my skin, one hand supporting the weight of my breast while the fingertips of the other grazed the tops and sides of my breast, brushing over my nipple with passing touches. My nipple started to react and lengthen, sending jolts of sensation to my clit and pussy. Our heavy breathing filled the silence in the room.

  Finally, he stopped. “I think you’re right. No scratches here.”

  “You sure you don’t want to compare it with the other one just in case?” I asked hopefully.

  His slow grin was my answer. “Doesn’t hurt to be thorough.”

  I reached for the other strap of my dress and pulled the top half of my dress down around my waist. Both nipples now stood at attention and James wasted no time, diving in with both hands to clasp my breasts, his fingers closing gently around my extended nipples. I moaned softly, and he echoed my moan as he used his palms to press my breasts together, nuzzling his face in the cleavage. My hands clutched desperately at his shirt, my nails digging into my palms.

  “What… um… are you… oh god… doing?” I stuttered. He had added a small twist to the pinch of his fingers and it was driving me to distraction.

  “Don’t question my methods, woman,” he growled. He sat up and stared down at the flesh in his hands, his pupils wide and his hot skin searing mine.

  Positioning himself between my knees, he pushed me backward until my shoulders touched the cold mirror, making me gasp. In my reclining position, with his hands wrapped around my breasts and holding them high up on my chest, I spared a momentary thought on how this position made my stomach look flatter. But that thought bubble burst when he took advantage of my hands being behind my hips, holding me up and sucking my left nipple into his mouth.

  The combination of suction and teeth allowed his right hand to release his grip on my tit and land on top of my thigh. I sighed and pushed my fingers through his hair, reveling in the feeling of his hand caressing the outside of my hip under my dress. I jumped when I felt him snap the side of my thong.

  He let go of my nipple and we kissed in a clash of tongue and teeth. Instinctively, I cupped the weight of my neglected breast, holding it up like an offering. He released me from the kiss and bent down to take the other nipple in his mouth, his left hand traveling the same path as his right to pull the other side of my thong off, letting it fall to the floor.

  Both his hands stroked the inside of my thighs, pushing them apart and upward, giving him more room between my knees and pulling my pelvis closer to the edge of the countertop.

  Still holding one breast, I released my grip in his hair to reach down and release the top button on his jeans. I was shocked to find him wearing nothing underneath. The head of his cock rubbed against my hand as I worked to get him out of his pants one-handed, making my palm slick with precum. We released a mutual sigh when he was finally freed.

  I wrapped my slippery hand around his shaft, pumping him in sync with his pulls on my nipple. I used the slightly elongated nail of my thumb to flick the underside of his sensitive cock head, making him curse and jerk in my hand.

  He suddenly pulled away with a snarl, watching me with hooded eyes. Feeling a little mischievous, I held his gaze while I licked the mess off my palm, sucking on each finger one at a time with a pop. His mouth was left open as he was mesmerized by my movements.

  I squealed when James lunged for me and threw me over a shoulder. He walked like a man possessed as he stalked down my hallway, throwing doors open one by one in quest for a bed. When he found one, I was ruthlessly tossed on top of the mattress before he pulled my dress off, kicked off his jeans, and tore off his shirt.

  My tongue lolled out of my mouth and I temporary forgot how to swallow or breathe. His tattoos ran seamlessly from his chest, over his ribs, and down to his hips to highlight a rigid cock that pulsed softly against his stomach. I wanted to trace every inch of his tattoos with my tongue and worship his cock. At the same time, it had been more than three years since I’d had sex, and his penis was definitely longer than my ex’s…

  “Doll?” He was staring at me oddly.

  I gave my head a shake to dispel my thoughts and bade him come forward with an outstretched hand. As he was climbing onto the bed, I grasped his cock and bent forward to take it in my mouth. His fingers tangled themselves in my hair, lighting my scalp on fire as it pulled at my roots. I rolled over to get into a better position to take more of his length in my throat. I barely made it halfway down before I gagged.

  James lifted me off with a tug of my hair and pushed me onto my back, climbing on top of me. “As mind-blowing as that feels, I’m about to burst and I need to be inside you.” He reached down to sheath himself in the condom he had opened while I was sucking him. “Next time, I promise.”

  He used his grip on his sheathed cock to rub up and down my slit, spreading my wetness across my pussy lips before he started to push in. I moaned and twitched underneath him as his cock spread me open like a hot knife spreading butter. With my head in my studies, my masturbation sessions had been few and far in between, and my vibrator did not even compare to the girth and length of his penis. I was relieved at the pace he moved to enter me.

  When he finally slid into me to the hilt, he paused, his hands opening and closing around the back of my thighs. My bent knees were pressed into my sides and my calves pressed tightly into his ribcage. I breathed a whimper of complaint, urging him to move.

  With a quick kiss and a murmured assurance, James started moving. Moving his hands off my thighs in favor of leverage, his fingers bit into the soft curve of my waist, pulling me in forcefully enough that my ass smacked loudly against his thighs with each thrust. His harsh breaths got louder and faster as he approached his orgasm.

  I reached out to brace myself and crossed my ankles behind his back, digging my knees into his sides so I could counter his thrusts. I could feel my climax coming but I wasn’t able to go over the edge.

  My heels dropped to the mattress and my back arched in an effort to get a better angle that might push me over the cusp to my orgasm. Even after reaching down to rub my clit with my fingertips, my climax eluded me. I tossed my head side to side and moaned in frustration.

  James groaned, his head dropping to my shoulder. “Let it go.”

  “What?” I panted.

  “You’re trying too hard. Relax.”

  James reached under my torso to wrap his arms around my back and pull our upper bodies closer together, his wiry chest hairs rasping across my peaked nipples. I screamed with the change in position and additional stimulation.

  With a few more hard thrusts, I felt him jerk inside me and his cum jettison out into the condom, setting off my orgasm. I muffled my shriek in his bicep, accidentally biting him in the intensity of my climax.

  I lay boneless on the bed, reveling in the aftermath. I flinched slightly when James pulled out and left to dispose of the condom. When he returned and pulled me into his arms, I didn’t fight it.

  “Didn’t know you were a biter,” he whispered in my ear.

  I snorted. “Your faul
t,” I muttered.

  “So was that your first club party?”

  “Uh huh,” I yawned.

  He tucked me closer against his side and pulled the covers over our bodies. We lay there in silence, until I broke it with the questions that were bouncing around my head.

  “So you think I’m not ready for the private rooms at the club, but having sex with you at my house is fine?”

  “Yes,” James shrugged.

  “Seriously?” I tried to shove him out of the bed but he easily fended off my weak efforts.

  He grabbed a hold of my wrists, pressing a kiss to each before looking me dead in the eye and answering my question. “You’re not a one-night-stand kind of person. Having sex in one of the back rooms would have made you feel cheap and dirty.”

  “So this isn’t a one-night-stand?”