Dirtiest Little Secret

He parked the bike beside a picnic table someone had built from the surrounding trees, shut down the engine, and twisted toward her. He unbuckled the helmet, drew it from her head, and settled it on his handlebars.

Ava brushed her hair out of her eyes and gazed at the water. “What lake is this? I didn’t know it was here.”

“You slum these backwoods often, do you? Hop off, babe.”

She balanced her hands on his shoulders and swung her leg over the back of the bike. Isaac followed. He strolled to the lake’s edge, and looked out over the dark water for a moment. Crickets and cicadas broke the silence. A breeze blew through the treetops. Isaac turned and found her several feet behi

nd him, her features highlighted by the cool white hue of scattered moonlight. “Take off your top.”

She remained still and silent.

“I’m not asking twice.”

He was thinking this might end sooner than even he’d expected, until she exhaled, lowered her hands to the edges of her blouse, and lifted it over her head.

Her waist was small, her breasts full. Hunger swelled in the back of his throat.

When she laid her blouse on the table, he just stared, knowing it unnerved her. “Now your skirt.”

She thought about it a long moment, then obeyed. Sliding the zipper at her hip, she shimmied the fabric over her hips and let it fall to her feet. Now she stood in the moonlight in nothing but bra, panties, and black thigh-high suede boots, their rhinestones winking in the night.

Long legs, nice tits, curvy hips. “Wow.”

He wandered toward her and stopped two inches away, where he towered over her until she had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. He laid his hands on her shoulders and dropped into a slow crouch, running his hands over her arms, her waist, her hips. She trembled, just a barely there shiver that thrilled the hell out of him.

“Step out,” he told her. When she did, he laid her skirt on top of her blouse and met her gaze again. He stroked one hand down the length of her hair. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” He cradled her chin while he stroked her lips with his thumb. “Too good for me. Way too good for those bastards at the bar.”

She lifted her hands to his torso and clutched the fabric of his T-shirt, shooting tingles over his skin. On the next path of Isaac’s thumb, Ava parted her lips and took it inside. Isaac’s gut clenched. She held his gaze while she pumped his thumb slowly between her lips, sucking and licking. The sensations shot straight between his legs, and Isaac groaned in approval.

She covered his hand with hers. Without looking away, she used his index finger to slowly impale her mouth before she sucked. Then added his middle finger. The heat and suction teased his cock into stone.

“Mmm,” he groaned. “You’re good with that mouth.”

Her heavy-lidded eyes sparkled up at him as if to say, You’re damn right I am.

He wanted to give her free access to him, let her lead and see where she took them. But that wasn’t why he’d brought her on this secluded rendezvous. And he was pretty damn sure he would go home blue-balled for his efforts to teach princess Ava a valuable lesson.

Isaac stroked his free hand up her belly and over her chest, pausing to cup and squeeze one breast. Man, it had been way too long since he’d had his hands on a woman. Ava’s lids dipped, and she sighed. That was when he lifted his hand from her breast and closed it around her throat.

She gasped, and her eyes opened wide with the first flash of fear. When her hand circled his wrist, he let the moment linger. Let the fear sting her eyes. Gave it time to sink into her belly. A visceral memory he wanted to stick. “You’ve let a stranger take you into the middle of nowhere to get fucked.” He spoke quietly but kept a hard edge in his voice. “Do you have a death wish?”

Isaac shifted his hand from her throat to her jaw and held her firmly. She curled her fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand away, but she took the last step toward him and pressed her body against his. “There are no guarantees in life. I could die crossing a Manhattan street tomorrow. Katie knows I’m with you, and I’m in the mood to step out of my safe little box, which has turned out to be more like a cell. Safety, risk—they’re just smoke and mirrors.”

There were far too many buried double meanings there to untangle. He pressed his thumb against her lower lip again, dragging her mouth open and sliding his fingers back into the wet heat. Ava put her tongue to work, licking and stroking. Watching the oral power struggle added weight to his gut. His cock throbbed. Her nails dug into his sides, turning up the fire between his legs.

“Where’d a girl like you learn to use her mouth like this?”

Her answer came in another stroke of her tongue and tight, hard suction. He pulled his fingers free, trailed the wetness over her jaw, down her neck, then her chest, and stroked her nipple beneath her lace bra. Ava sucked a breath and arched toward his touch.

He released her abruptly, giving her a little push. She fell a step back, staring at him in confusion. But she didn’t tell him to take her back to her friend at the bar. Didn’t reach for her clothes.

Isaac turned his back and wandered toward his bike, rubbing a hand down his face. She was going to be a tougher nut than he thought.

He turned and rested his ass on the seat of his bike. With his hands flanking his hips, he set his feet and met her gaze. “Come here.”

She hesitated. Took a breath. And started forward.

When she stopped he ordered, “Open my jeans.”