Sinful Protector (Roughshod Rollers MC 2)
Page 7
I push further into the kiss and my tongue tangles with his. Then, needing to take a breath, I pull back and look up at him through lidded eyes.
He’s staring at me. He looks a little unsure, but there’s clear interest in his eyes.
“How about it?” I ask, running a hand over his chest. “This last hour has been terrible. Want to help me forget about it?”
Forgetting sounds great right now. I want to forget about Jesse and obliterate the feel of his hands on my body, and there’s a gorgeous stranger in front of me, offering me the way to do that. I don’t know him. I’m attracted to his physical appearance and the fact that he saved me. I’m simply using him to get some relief.
But that’s okay, right now. He doesn’t know me, either. He’s equally attracted to me. This would be to our mutual benefit.
Kyle, apparently, is a nicer guy than I want him to be, however, because he coughs and leans back with some difficulty.
“Look, it might not be for the best,” he tries. “You just went through something really fucking terrible. I get that you want to forget about it, but screwing a stranger isn’t going to help.”
I stare at him incredulously. I’m throwing myself at him, and I’m pressed against him so I can feel his growing interest. Either I’ve chosen the wrong guy to try this with…or I’ve just stumbled on a roughly hewn gem.
My incredulity fades. The fact that he would try and push me away for my sake, when I know how much I’ve already affected him, is even more attractive. I slip my arms around his neck and tangle my fingers in the hair at his neck.
“Maybe not,” I purr. “But you never know unless you try, right? One night, that’s all I’m asking.” I can feel his hands… “I want your hands on me, instead.”
He groans at my words, his entire body shuddering. His hips buck beneath me.
“No strings attached,” I say into his ear, my breath brushing against the lobe. “One night. Fuck me.”
His hands are on my hips and he’s tugging me closer.
“Shit,” he whispers.
This his lips are on mine and I grin triumphantly. I’m not some stupid damsel who throws herself at her savior because she decides she needs to fall in love with him. I know what I want. I want this man in front of me now, and I want to take and give until the world around us falls apart and I don’t know which way to go until I wake up in the morning and have to face it all again.
His kiss is fierce and enthusiastic, and his hands grip my hips unforgivingly, his thumbs pressing against the bone as he drags me in as close as I can get. My fingers tug the zipper on his back down, and it flies open, allowi
ng me to feel the tight t-shirt underneath. I can feel each muscle in his stomach through the thin material, and I can breathe in his musky scent, the smell giving me a heady feeling that makes me desperate for more.
“Holy shit,” I murmur against his lips, slipping my hands under his shirt and feeling his smooth, toned muscles. “How often do you work out?”
I feel him grin.
“I do a lot of lifting,” he says.
It’s all the warning I get before his hands slip under my backside and he lifts me clean off the ground. My legs automatically wind around his waist, and then he’s spinning us around, changing our positions, so that my back meets the wall. I can feel the grainy bricks digging into my spine and I lock my ankles at the small of his back, dragging him closer. His hands are in my hair, tugging it out of the bun I had so carefully twisted it into that morning, the elastic pulling harshly at the roots as it comes loose.
My hands aren’t calm either. I push his jacket off his shoulders, smelling the leather and feeling the material sliding over my hands. Impatiently, he shrugs out of it and lets it fall to the floor, and I latch onto his neck with my lips and teeth, nipping and licking until I find a pulse point that thunders against my skin. I grin, knowing he feels the curve of my lips, and bite on it.
“Shit!” he gasps, back arching against me, pressing me further into the wall.
I suck on the pulse, now fluttering wildly, soothing the bite with my tongue. My hands are under his shirt again; I just can’t get enough of the feel of his muscles as they heave under my hands, sliding over his abs and his hips.
Kyle’s hands leave my hair and slide down my body. His fingers dance teasingly over my clothed skin, outlining the curve of my breast before dipping down to my hips. Then they go further, sliding down my legs to just above my knee.
His hand closes over my right leg, and he hitches it further up his waist, and we both groan as I slide down a little. His penis, hard and throbbing in his jeans, is sitting against my thigh now, and Kyle’s hips buck upwards.
It’s then that a tiny bit of logic enters my mind. Right now, as we stand in this alley, the air is heating around us. We’re groping each other desperately, and my hands are already halfway to pulling Kyle’s shirt off, just so I can feel his chest against me. His hands are sliding underneath my skirt, inching closer and closer to my dampened panties.
If we don’t stop this now, we’re going to end up having sex right here in this alley. The idea isn’t a hugely bad one, my lust is telling me, but I force myself to remember that we’ll both still need to get home afterward.
I don’t want to stop. But I don’t want to keep going here, either.
“W-wait,” I gasp, and groan, my eyes sliding shut, as Kyle fingers the band of my underwear. “Wait, we need to…”