Blood & Bones: Whip (Blood Fury MC 11)

His eyebrows pinched together. “Nightcap?”

“A drink.”

He shook his head. “You ain’t buyin’ me a drink. Since you’re payin’ for dinner, I’m buyin’ you a drink instead.”

Oh, yes, he was taking charge and that made all the nerve endings in her body sit up and take notice. As well as her nipples.

He did a slow roll of his eyes down to them, paused briefly, then took his time lifting his gaze back to her face.

She had made her point. Now he did, too.

“I’m good with that. I’ll get dinner, you get drinks? Deal?”

He stuck his hand back across the table. She automatically placed her hand in his, expecting him to shake it for a deal.

Instead he grabbed it, slid to the end of the bench seat and got to his feet, drawing her along with him. Pulling her closer.

Until they were toe to toe.

She tipped her face up while he tipped his down.

His smirk was gone and so was she.

She was so damn gone. As were the diner and its patrons.

Nothing existed but the two of them.

This was so unexpected. So very unexpected.

In this place, in this time, with this man.

Even though none of it made sense to her, she was still tempted to say screw the drinks and suggest they head back to the motel instead.

“Do you…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Do you know of a decent place to grab a drink?”

“Not sure if you’ll think it’s decent but it’s a place to go.”

“Is it a biker bar?”

“You gonna say no if it is?”

She’d never been around bikers so she wasn’t sure how a biker bar would be. Her guess, rough and rowdy. “Is it?”

“No, it ain’t a biker bar.”

“That’s fine.”

“You sure?”

She was damn sure. But not about the bar.

About what she wanted to happen afterwards.

And whether he’d be open to it.

Chapter Seven

Whip wanted to skip the fucking drinks, skip the time that would be wasted at Crazy Pete’s and take her directly back to the motel, her room, then her bed.

She wasn’t hiding her interest. She didn’t seem to give a shit that he was a biker and she was… far from that. She might own that beautiful Indian Scout, but being a casual rider was different. Just because someone owned a sled, it didn’t make them a real biker.

What made her even hotter was she didn’t act like she was better than him even though there was no doubt that was true.

He still didn’t know their age difference but Fallon didn’t seem to give a shit about that, either. And that was A-fucking-okay with him.

He only hoped that by the time they were done having a couple of drinks at Pete’s, she didn’t change her mind and lose interest. Because right now, he couldn’t think of anything other than sliding between her thighs. With his fingers, his face and finally his dick.

He couldn’t shake the imagery of Fallon on her knees at his feet, taking him all the way to the back of her throat, his fingers wound tightly in her blonde hair and the sounds she’d make as she sucked him off.

He reached down and adjusted his hard-on as he followed her down the dark hallway from Pete’s rear entrance into the main bar area.

Once again, even though she didn’t have to, she had wrapped her arms around him on the ride over. She had snaked one hand under his cut and planted it on his gut. The other had stayed on his waist, even though he’d hoped she’d plant that somewhere else, too. Like below his belt.

She probably had too much class to do something like that. Hell, she had more class in her pinky finger than he had in his whole body.

Did he care? Fuck no.

Did she? He hoped to hell not.

He now had plans and he didn’t want anything or anyone fucking those up. But he’d go through the motion of getting drinks since some women preferred to be wined and dined before getting down and dirty. Just like a date, whether it was one or not.

Hell, he hadn’t dated since the first night he hooked up with Billie. That was the last official “date” he’d been on and that was years ago.

Here, unlike with dinner, he was covering the tab. Fallon didn’t need to know the drinks would be on the house. That was one benefit of the club owning the bar.

Even so, he didn’t bring Fallon to Pete’s because it would be free, but because there was nowhere else in town to go. In truth, he’d prefer to take her somewhere his club brothers wouldn’t be nosy fucks. But besides the fancy pub off the lobby of the hotel on the square, Crazy Pete’s was the only drinking hole in town and, more importantly, he didn’t want to go too far from home, even if he only drank a couple of beers.