Blood & Bones: Rook (Blood Fury MC 7)

Undeniable evidence of how much she wanted him in that moment.

Cop-hating. Felon. Asshole. Biker.

Cop-hating, felon, ass—

“Kiss me,” she moaned, unable to stop herself.

He jerked violently at that demand. Like he expected her to fight, not encourage him to continue.

Quite possibly, not fighting was her way to win. To be victorious.

Simply do the opposite of what he expected.

He pressed his mouth to her ear and growled, “Only kiss people I don’t hate.”

His words, his breath, stirred her hair, stirred something inside her she’d never experienced before. Not with anyone. Not like this.

Searing want. Unbridled need. Powerful desire.

A fire roared deep within her belly.

Her attraction to him had to be the allure of wanting something she shouldn’t have.

The forbidden.

The tempting bite of an apple you couldn’t resist even when you know it would destroy humanity.

The soul-deep aching need only he could extinguish.

She unlocked her fingers from his shirt and slid her hand between them, down to where he was hot, heavy and hard.

For her.

“Do you normally react like this over someone you hate?” Every thought took effort. Every word had to be forced.

“Only one.”

“Why is that one different than the rest?”

“About to find out.”

He crushed his lips to hers, like an army rushing a battlefield. Overwhelming and powerful, in a battle to win. A strategic move to crush the enemy.

He tasted like pot and beer. Morning-after mistakes. Irrefutable regrets.

And bad, bad decisions.

A groan surged up from her chest and he stole it from her as he swept his tongue through her mouth, taking every inch as if it belonged to him. As if he had won the skirmish and she was the prize.

Continuing his siege on her mouth, his hips tilted, driving his denim-covered erection against her palm. Her pussy clenched uncontrollably when she wondered what it would feel like for him to take her completely. Right where they stood. Against the door.

It wouldn’t take much to shuck her boxers. Only seconds to be totally naked and succumb to his actions.

She bit back her urge to beg him to do just that.

She should be fighting him. Beating him off.

Taking him down. Kicking him the hell out of her apartment.

Not allowing him unfettered access to her mouth.

Not cupping him where he was hot and full.

Not gripping his shirt and keeping him close.

But she didn’t want to let go. Not of his shirt, not of his balls, not of his mouth.

She wanted more.

She wanted everything.

To hell with the consequences.

But still...

She ripped her mouth away, to draw in oxygen, to try to think more clearly. To keep her desire for this man she shouldn’t want anything to do with from drowning her. To remind him that he didn’t kiss people he hated. “You hate me, remember?”

Their cheeks were glued together as they both panted, his cock throbbing hotly under her fingers as she stroked him. Wishing the denim didn’t separate them. Wishing they were skin to skin.

Wishing she could hold his hot flesh in her palm while thumbing the tip to gather the silky precum...

Bring it to her lips.

“Haven’t forgotten.”

Her throat convulsed. “Then why are you doing it?”

“’Cause I can’t fuckin’ resist.”

Holy shit, she almost came simply from his tormented confession. Those simple words that weren’t so simple.

No, they could cause a whole lot of complications.

This could cause a whole heap of problems.

He knew it.

She knew it.

But still, like two magnets, their mouths crashed together again. A clash of teeth. Lips. Tongues.

A battle of wills.

Who would stop this before it went too far?

Which one of them would come to their senses first?

She tugged his shirt from his jeans with one hand and with the other began to fiddle with his belt.

There was her answer: definitely not her.

Definitely not him, either, she realized, when he gripped her face with both hands, deepening the kiss, almost to the point of pain. Like he wanted to swallow her whole.

His fingers gripped her hair, holding on tight, as she abandoned his shirt so she could use both hands to loosen his belt. When she worked the button free, but before she could grab the small tab to his zipper, his hand moved in a flash to snag her wrist, holding it firmly and stopping her intentions.

He broke his mouth free from hers. His intense dark eyes holding hers. His voice so deep it sounded like it had been forced to travel all the way up from his toes to his lips. “No. People like you have tried to control me almost my whole fuckin’ life. You ain’t doin’ it now. Not ever.”

She closed her eyes and wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed at him coming back to reality. Of seeing how wrong this was and being the one strong enough to stop it.

Just as the relief was seeping through her, he grabbed the back of her neck in a powerful grip, yanked her away from the door and over to stand in front of the full-length mirror on the coat closet door.