Not a Role Model (Battle Crows MC 4)

Yet, I found that getting caught with Coreline might just be fuckin’ worth it.

I tilted my head. “You were the one to catch me, weren’t you?”

She flashed me a grin.

“You have pepper flakes between your front teeth,” I teased.

She rolled her eyes, but then made my dick even harder when she tossed the pizza down, spun around on her stool, then ran her tongue over her teeth in such a provocative way that my heart started pounding.

She reached for the glass of water instead of the margarita this time and took a long, lengthy sip. Seconds later, she was swishing it through her mouth and swallowing it down.

A few seconds after that, she reached for a wrapped mint that’d been in the middle of the table in a jar.

After unwrapping it, she hitched both of her feet up onto the top rung before popping it between her lips.

I couldn’t decide what to look at, her skirt riding up her legs, or the way her tongue was curling around that fucking mint.

“You’re such a bitch,” I grumbled.

She cracked the mint with her teeth and swallowed it.

Then, to make matters worse, she brought her fingers up to her mouth and slowly licked them free.

One by fucking one.

“Bitch or not,” she said. “At least I’m not an asshole.”

She had a point.

I had been an asshole today.

I stepped forward so that she was pinned between me and the tabletop.

“Didn’t you ask yourself why you were allowed in this VIP section? Or why so many of the VIP tables were partitioned off by a half wall? Why do they seem like they have so much privacy?” I asked her, my breath brushing along the length of her neck while I slowly ran the tip of my nose over the sensitive skin.

She swallowed hard and then, “I just figured he liked to treat his VIPs nice.”

The VIP section looked like a fuckin’ maze of short walled cubicles. You could see everyone from about mid-bicep up.

Which gave us a perfectly good view of heads and nothing else.

If anyone else would even pay attention.

Most weren’t.

“He does,” I agreed. “Keir certainly knows how to treat them. And give them what they want.”

I slipped my hand underneath her dress, which had slipped even farther up her thighs, pausing with my fingers only just barely touching the outside edge of her thong that rode along her supple hips.

Her breath hitched as she said, “Why does that sound like you’ve been here before?”

The underlying jealousy in that question made me grin before I placed a soft kiss on the curve of her neck. Just below her ear.

Her voice was like a soft caress against the side of my neck as she turned her face into me to hide her expression. “You didn’t answer.”

I caught the edge of her panties with my fingers, then slowly pulled them down the length of her legs, with her shifting her ass cheeks just enough that they slipped over the swell of her ass before falling all the way to her ankles.

After disentangling them from her feet, I caught the panties up in my hand, balled them into my fist, and then shoved them deep into the pocket of my jeans.

“I came here for a meeting once about a year ago when he was building it.” I paused. “But I have this quirk.”

Her head tilted back so that she could see me, and while she was distracted looking at me, I moved her entire chair until she was slightly in the corner, at the farthest edge, so that anyone that looked would only be able to see us from the chest up. If they’d wanted to see more, they’d have to come all the way into the cubicle itself.

Ethel might do that. Keir might as well.

But I had a feeling they’d both be staying very far away.

Especially with the look on my face.

“You have a lot of quirks,” she countered.

I bared my teeth at her in a feral smile.

“You’re such a shithead,” I told her bluntly. “You’re not even going to ask me what it is?”

She tilted her head, contemplating.

“What’s your ‘quirk,’ Tide?” she teased.

I brought my mouth down to hers and kissed her senseless.

Her legs, which had stayed on the top rung of the barstool for the entire interlude, went around me, pulling me close so that my cock was now pressed to her core.

I felt my dick pulse in an answering throb and couldn’t stop myself from grinding just a little bit. From changing the angle so that she was exactly where I wanted her.

“I know where the cameras are,” I said. “It’s my specialty. Making them out so that we can use them to our advantage. Or bypass them. Something I’ve been able to do since we were kids—spot them. Now, the question is, do you want to be facing them? Do you want them to know what we’re doing in here? Or do you want your back to them? Do you want them to only guess, but not confirm?”