Zach (Hell's Handlers MC 1)

How mortifying.

Now it was Zach’s turn to laugh, but his amusement turned lustful after a moment. His clear blue eyes darkened and he tightened his hold on her hair, tipping her head back until their mouths were mere inches apart. Against her stomach, his hardness seemed to grow. Something she wouldn’t have thought possible seconds ago.

“Zach,” she whispered. Her body was screaming at him to close the distance and claim her mouth while her mind fought for control and the strength to stop him.

Fought and lost.

He leaned in at the same time he drew her closer with the hand on her head. Fractions of a second before their mouths met, Toni’s stomach flipped. And then he was on her. His large hand cupped the back of her head, holding her where he wanted while his mouth slanted over hers.

Warm, firm, insistent lips pressed against her, leaving hers no choice but to open to him. Somewhere in the distance a woman moaned in pleasure. Maverick’s date no doubt about to be fucked against the outside of the building.

She should be horrified. Turned off. Disgusted.

Anything but turned on.

But apparently, she was some kind of perverted voyeur, because the knowledge that another couple was getting their rocks off just feet away ramped up her desire. Moaning into Zach’s mouth, Toni grabbed fistfuls of the back of his shirt and hugged him close.

There was no mistaking his desire for her nestled against her stomach. As though she no longer had any control over her actions, she rubbed against his erection.

Restraint lost, Zach growled and the kiss turned ravenous. His free hand dropped to her ass, squeezing her cheek and trapping her as he ground his dick into her stomach. The feel of those strong fingers so close to her sex flooded her panties.

Her head spun with the combination of alcohol and Zach, a mind-altering pairing. It had been so long since she felt such strong desire. Since a man’s hands on her body made her lose her senses.

And that’s exactly what was happening. Because if she had any working brain cells left, she’d put an end to it before it went any farther.

He sank his teeth into her bottom lip and tugged it outward. As good as his hand on her ass and his mouth on hers felt, she needed more. She needed relief from the building pressure in her lower abdomen.

A shrill whistle sounded right before someone screamed. “Hey, Zach, don’t be so fucking selfish. Why don’t you let one of us have a go at her?”

It was as though someone doused her with a bucket of ice. Every sexy thought, erotic feeling, and need she’d been experiencing shut off in an instant as the comment knocked her back seven years. Memories she’d long buried assaulted her. Male grunts of satisfaction, laughter, and voices egging each other on. Multiple sets of hands on her. Humiliation. Helplessness.

Her stomach flipped again, this time turning sour.

Shit.

Shit.

She’d just done exactly what she’d vowed she’d never do again. She’d thought with her pussy instead of her mind. Gave in to lust and physical craving instead of holding out for more. And she’d done it with a man whose world too closely resembled that of her past.

“Let me go,” she said as she wriggled in Zach’s hold. She didn’t sound strong. Her voice wavered and her legs shook from residual pleasure chemicals, unfulfilled desire, and unwanted memories.

Zach released her immediately, but it was too late. The blood rushing through her veins switched from lustful to furious.

“Step the fuck back, Zach.” She threw up her hands and shoved him away. “You promised. Light and flirty was what you said.”

“Ton—”

“No!” When he reached for her she stepped back. Her heart pounded so fast her head spun. “You talked me into coming. You said you wouldn’t do this and I trusted you. Guess you’re just another man who’s a fucking liar. Stay the hell away from me, Zach.”

After dropping that bomb, she fled toward the parking lot with Zach calling after her. It didn’t matter how sorry he was, or what his excuse was. It didn’t matter that the noise level of the party dropped to nonexistent as the club members stared after her.

She needed space. Needed to get away. To breathe.

“Of course,” she muttered when she reached the parking lot. No car. Hands on her hips she scanned the lot. Shell was just disappearing into the driver’s side of her crappy sedan.

“Shell!” she called, wobbling through the parking lot on three-inch heels.

A head of blonde curls popped back out. “Toni? What’s wrong?”

By the time she reached the car she was panting and nauseated. “Please take me home.”

Shell studied her for about five seconds before she said, “Of course, hon. Hop in.”

“Thank you.” Toni slipped in the passenger’s seat and rested her head against the seat back.