Little Jack (Hell's Handlers MC 6)

“No worries.” LJ squatted down which at least got the dog away from the danger zone. It was like the hairy guy could smell his arousal or something. Some kind of primitive man to beast bond. “He’s a handsome guy. What is he?”

“A mountain mastiff,” she answered. “Worst guard dog in existence, as you can see, but thankfully he’s big enough he tends to intimidate on sight.”

LJ watched her as she scratched the dog behind his ears. The big baby rolled to his back, presenting his long stomach for a good rub. LJ obliged at once.

“How’d you know he was a boy?” She asked as her hand joined his on Biscuit’s belly.

“For real?” he asked with a laugh. “Come one, look at that thing. It’s kinda hard to miss.” He pointed toward the large schlong sticking up proudly between the dog’s hind legs. “We’ve got a few things in common.”

Holly’s mouth dropped open, then she snickered. “I see you’re gonna keep me on my toes.”

“I’ll take you any way I can get you. On your toes, your back, right up against that wall.” LJ winked. “Come on, let’s grab some more of your shit before it gets dark.”

Her face turned an adorable shade of pink. “Um, thanks, LJ. Hopefully, I can repay the favor someday soon.”

Uh, yeah, he could think of at least twenty ways she could repay the favor, and all involved her being naked and moaning his name. Since he assumed he’d come on strong enough for the first meet, he kept those thoughts to himself.

“Biscuit, go to your bed,” she ordered. The giant dog obeyed at once, loping over to a substantial oval dog bed in the center of the bare living room.

“Biscuit?” Poor guy.

She blushed even harder as she nodded.

For the next thirty minutes, they worked in relative silence as they unloaded her Jetta. LJ made sure to let her lead the way up the steps each trip, so he had a prime view of that stellar ass.

“That’s it, right?” She asked as he deposited a box marked “Baking Shiz” onto the small kitchen island. It’d been the heaviest box by far. And not the only one with a baking label. The woman must like to bake. Second to the possibility of headboard-banging sex, this could be the best thing about having her as a neighbor.

“Yes, ma’am,” he quipped.

She shot him a look over her shoulder as she opened her refrigerator. “Ma’am? I’m twenty-four, LJ, not sure I qualify as a ma’am.” She removed two bottles of Yingling and a small Tupperware case, then made her way back to the island.

Huh, look at that. “Hey, we’re almost the same age! I’m twenty-five, and I was in the military for four years, so all females are ma’am to me.”

She handed him a bottle, then fished through her purse for her keychain, which she also tossed to him.

“Uhhh…”

With a laugh, she snatched the keys back. “Sorry, forgot we just met or something. Here.” She handed the keychain back, this time holding out the bottle opener attached to a key ring.

Instant bottle opener? Another check in this girl’s pro column.

“Ahh, I’m with you now, pretty girl.” He popped the cap on his beer, then did the same to hers. “Thanks,” he said after taking a sip. “This hits the spot.” So much for never drinking again. All it took was one sweet smile and two big tits to have him going back on his word.

“Yes, it does.” She peeled the Tupperware open. “Want one?”

Before he even had a chance to peek in the container, a sugary, strawberry smell hit his senses and he nearly groaned. “Holy shit, what the hell is that?” he asked peering down at what looked like a cupcake but with gooey strawberries on top instead of frosting.

“They’re mini vanilla cheesecakes with a strawberry glaze.”

If she said anything after glaze, LJ completely missed it. He was too busy staring at the delicious-looking confection. As if on autopilot, he snagged one of the treats and took a taste, devouring half the cheesecake in one bite.

This time, he did groan, loud, as the fantastic flavor of strawberry combined with a zing of something tart, maybe lemon, mixed with creamy vanilla goodness flooded his taste buds. “Holy fucking shit,” he said, mouth full. Didn’t even matter how much of a pig he came across as. He shoved the rest of the cheesecake in his mouth and reached for another.

“Please,” Holly said, pushing the container toward him with sparkling eyes. “Help yourself to as many as you’d like.”

She stood, watching his face, lower lip tucked between her teeth. The seductive pose drew him away from his snack. All he could think about was sinking his own teeth into that plump lip and seeing if her eyes darkened to a stormy sea or remained Caribbean calm.