Motorcycle Man
Page 48

Seriously. I hated it when he was right.
I felt his lips brush mine and I opened my eyes to look right into his.
“You feel alive,” he declared quietly.
“Annoying,” I muttered.
I felt his lips smile against mine as I felt his hand shift down then slide up under my top so his fingers could curl around my side, skin against skin.
I held my breath.
Tack held my gaze then his lips slid from mine down my cheek to my ear as his fingers lightly stroked my skin at my side.
“Straight up, baby, no excuse but that night, after they took you, hooded you, bound you and held you for three hours, I was not in a good state. I already had issues with these guys. But I was pissed. I was worried. I was feeling things bigger than I expected when it came to you but mostly you being in danger and I took that out on you. I shouldn’t have. I let you go because I f**ked up and needed to give you time. You had your time. Now your time is up.”
I was feeling things bigger than I expected when it came to you...
Oh God. That seriously got to me and the foregone conclusion was cemented in my brain. So much, my body relaxed and melted into his.
Tack kept talking as his fingers slid up, up, up until they were stroking me at the side of my breast and my quivers went into overdrive, setting a new level on the pleasant scale. “Now, we gonna explore what we’re buildin’?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
His head came up and his gaze captured mine.
“Good, Red,” he whispered back, “now f**kin’ kiss me.”
“Okay,” I said softly, my hand at his chest moving up to curl around his neck and sift into his hair. My hand at his waist becoming an arm around his lower back. And my feet rolling up on my toes.
I pressed my lips to his.
That was all I had to do. Tack pressed me back into the wall, his hand in my hair moving so his arm could curve around my shoulders and hold me close as his tongue thrust into my mouth. I liked that, the feel of it, the taste of him and I melted fully into his body.
Tack growled into my mouth and held on tighter, his tongue thrusting deeper, faster.
I liked the growl. I liked what his tongue was doing. So I returned the gesture of holding on tight.
It was going from good to really good when we both heard the doorknob rattle.
Tack tore his mouth from mine on another growl, this one annoyed, and his head snapped around to look over his shoulder at the door. I tipped my body to the side and looked around him, also at the door.
“Locked,” we heard a woman say from the other side of the door.
“What? Why? Says right there, office hours, eight to five,” another woman snapped.
“It may say that, Elvira, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t locked,” a third woman pointed out.
“Fuck,” Tack muttered, his arms giving me a squeeze just as an imperative knock came at the door.
“Hello!” the second woman’s voice shouted. “Anyone in there? Open the door!”
“Fuck!” Tack clipped tersely, let me go but grabbed my chin between thumb and finger and tipped it up to him as he bent his neck. His mouth touched mine then he released my chin and stalked to the door.
I watched.
Seriously, he looked good in jeans.
And tees.
And motorcycle boots.
And moving.
He also looked good standing still.
And holding me close in his arms.
Hmm.
Yes, the conclusion was most definitely foregone.
I watched him open the door and then I watched in surprise as three women surged in, practically bowling over scary biker dude Kane “Tack” Allen in order to do so.
One was a gorgeous, curvy blonde. Another was a gorgeous, curvy brunette. And the last was a gorgeous, very curvy black woman.
The blonde smiled broadly at Tack and said, “Yo.”
The brunette smiled more timidly at Tack then her eyes slid to me.
The black woman didn’t even look at Tack. Her eyes came straight to me then shocking words came straight out of her mouth.
“Looks like Tack was in the middle of givin’ the business.” She finally looked at Tack. “Early Monday mornin’ nookie during office hours. You biker boys know how to live.”
I blinked again. The blonde’s smile got broader. The brunette’s giggled quietly.
Tack did not giggle, not that he could giggle. He also didn’t chuckle. And further, he didn’t smile.
What he did was level annoyed eyes on the black woman and demand to know, “What are you three doin’ here?”
“Uh, Hawk rescued your girl,” the black woman replied, jerking her head in my direction. “Then he told Gwen you’d claimed a woman. This is juicy and you ain’t stupid. You had to know we’d be here to check her out, schedule the test then, if she passes, bring her into the fold.”
Tack glared at the black woman then his eyes went to the ceiling.
Then they went to the blonde. “Peaches, never thought I’d regret that day you strutted your ass into Ride. But right now, I’m regretting that day you strutted your ass into Ride.”
Test?
Bringing me into the fold?
Peaches?
“Can’t go back. Have to go forward,” the blonde replied, still grinning huge.
“Fuck me,” Tack muttered.
“Um… hi,” the brunette said to me. “Don’t be alarmed. We’re harmless. Or at least Gwen and I are. I’m Mara.” She pointed to herself. “This is Gwen, Hawk’s woman.” She pointed to the blonde and I could see this. Hawk was hot therefore it was not a surprise that Gwen was stunning. “And this is Elvira.” She pointed to the black woman. “We’re not really here to test you. We’re more like a welcoming committee.”
Uh. What?
“No, we aren’t,” Elvira contradicted, eyes narrowed on Mara. “She doesn’t have sass, she’s not in the club.”
“I don’t have sass,” Mara returned.
“Girl, what you been smokin’? You totally have sass,” Elvira shot back.
Gwen leaned toward Mara. “It’s the quiet kind of sass. It’s different but it’s good.”
“Fuck me,” Tack muttered again.
“I wish,” Elvira muttered back, eyes on Tack then she looked to me. “That’s part of provin’ you got sass, lettin’ us know how he is when he’s in action. But, I’m warning you now, I don’t do too much information. Just enough to confirm he’s not only hot on the outside but he’s also got the moves. I can’t function around a man if I know his ability to give pleasure.”