Rhythm of the Road (Lost Kings MC 16)
“I—they’re special. I only wear them onstage.”
He blinks and also seems at a loss for words. “Guess we need to get you another pair. Day boots. Stage boots.”
“I don’t need a pair of boots to keep you on my mind, Rooster.” My whispered words are almost swept up in the breeze and rustle of leaves.
He curls his fingers around mine. “Show me around?”
“You forget, I haven’t been here myself yet.”
“Shit, that’s right.” He glances toward his bike. “Do you need me to go so you can get ready?”
He doesn’t say it with much conviction. That makes it easier to tug him toward the loading dock. “No way. You’re my guest for the night.” I stop. “Shoot. I have another pass if Heidi wants it.”
“Nah, Murphy ain’t lettin’ her out of his sight.” Rooster sweeps his gaze over me. “And I’m not letting you out of mine.”
My eager heart pounds even faster, ready to burst out of my chest and into Rooster’s hands. Taking a calming breath, I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my chin on his chest. “Did I mention that I’m really happy to see you?”
A half-smile teases at the corner of his mouth as he watches me, like he’s pretending to consider the question. “I don’t think so.”
Longing for him almost brings me to my knees. I’m completely addicted to the heat of his stare. Trembling, I lean up on tiptoes, teasing my nails over the back of his neck into his hair. “Your hair’s longer.”
His eyes close and he gives me a sleepy smile. “Haven’t had time to get it cut.”
What’s keeping him so busy? A desire to probe into every last detail of his life threatens to turn me into a dang fool. “I can cut it for you.”
His eyes pop open. “I think you have more important things to do than shear me.”
“Rooster?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Please kiss me again.”
Instead of a cocky comeback, he edges closer. Tall, he’s so damn tall. Roughly beautiful. Strong. My whole world fills with him. His scent—crisp summer grass, leather with a touch of motor oil. His warmth. His touch. Gently, he teases his fingers through my hair and tugs my head back.
He pins me with a stare that sends shivers of anticipation down my spine. Slowly, he dips down and brushes his mouth against mine. His beard grazes my chin but I press my hands against his cheeks, tugging him closer.
His arms tighten, lifting me again so we’re at the right height. This time, no one’s close enough to interrupt, so I wrap my legs around him, holding on. Everything about him entices me.
He flicks his tongue against my lips and tingles of sensation race down my spine. The gentleness is sweet but I’m ravenous and I’ve missed him.
I squeeze closer, clinging to him, and he seems to snap. His soft kisses turn demanding. Rough fingers tease under the edge of my shirt, tickling my skin. My heart pounds in my ears. His breathing quickens. This inescapable attraction between us still burns lightning-rod hot.
The crunch of gravel invades our moment. I draw back and peer over his shoulder. My van rolls into the parking lot. “Well, shoot. The band’s here.”
Rooster’s mouth twitches and he kisses the tip of my nose before setting me down. My gaze drops to the bulge in his jeans, and I slick my tongue over my lip.
He groans. “Don’t. I’m trying hard not to fuck up your night.”
I tip my head to the side, meeting his burning stare. “What?”
“Shelby.” He leans down and brushes his lips against my ear. “It’s taking all my control not to bend you over my bike, yank your jeans down, and—”
“Shelby!”
Dammit, Trent!
Rooster’s eyes turn hard as he twists around to see who dared interrupt us.
“Rooster.” I grip his chin and turn him to face me again. Curling one finger, I beckon him closer. “You owe me new panties.”
Curiosity erases his murderous expression. “How’s that?”
I wiggle my hips and he groans. “These are soaked because of you.”
The scrape and crunch of several pairs of boots puts an end to my teasing. Rooster’s not finished, though. He leans down again, whispering, “I’ll require proof later.”
“Shelby?” Trent stops next to us and I straighten, dropping my arms to my sides. Rooster keeps me close, his hand curled over my hip, our bodies pressed tight. “Did you check things out yet?”
“No, we just got here.” I wince at the shaky wobble to my voice. Trent’s disapproving big brother face shouldn’t have any effect on me. “I spoke to Greg, though.”
Trent grunts and gestures toward the loading dock. “I’ll grab someone to help us unload.” He sends a dismissive glance Rooster’s way. “Let you get ready.”
“Thanks.”
Rooster glances at the van. “You need help?”
“We’ve got it.” Trent rejects Rooster’s offer with a quick shake of his head.