Take Me On

Oh my. Thoroughly satisfied with what she’d found, she chuckled and nibbled his shoulder, letting the vibrations of the engine stoke the heat building between her legs. He shook his head, and the quick movement of his shoulders suggested he laughed in return.

The journey wasn’t a long one. He turned into the parking lot of the very apartment complex Brian and Candace lived in. “Good thing we didn’t bring my car,” she said as he braked to a stop in an empty parking space. “Brian would’ve recognized it.”

“Yeah,” was his only comment.

While she’d joked about how he didn’t need to worry about her little brother, she respected the fact that he did. Just not enough to let him use that as an excuse to get away from her tonight.

She got off the Harley first and watched appreciatively as he did the same. By now, his white T-shirt clung damply to his skin and defined all those dips and planes and bulges she couldn’t wait to explore. With her tongue.

Mark hadn’t been out of shape by any means, but with his schedule, he had little time for anything other than an occasional jog. He took care of himself and his body had been good, but not the object of wonder standing before her now.

“Like what you see?” Ian asked, and her gaze jerked to his face. Yeah, so she’d been standing here ogling him for a good twenty seconds.

“Do you?” she returned.

“Do you really need to ask?”

Grinning to herself, she followed him as he went to unlock his door, and a moment later, she stood in his pitch-dark living room, waiting for him to flip on a light.

The light never came. She couldn’t see her hand before her face—he must have some heavy-duty drapes to keep the security lights out—and dead silence surrounded her. What the hell was he doing?

“Does anyone pay the electric bill around here?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, startling her with how near to her he stood. Then…warm breath fanned her cheek. A gentle hand found and stroked down her bare arm, raising gooseflesh from her still-damp skin. Lips skated along her jawline. Her breath escaped in a rush.

Kiss me, she thought but refused to turn her face toward his. He liked control. She knew, somehow, somewhere, in the depths of her soul—maybe from the way he wouldn’t let her see him right now. Or simply the way his presence loomed even in the absolute darkness.

She knew all about needing control. All her life, she’d tried to control everything around her. Dear God, she wanted to give it up for a while… Sometimes it was exhausting.

Against her wet clothes, her skin flamed. Her ni**les hardened, and it was all she could do to stay in her spot and not flatten herself against him. Assuage the ache building in all the places that cried out to be touched.

“So,” he said, and she shivered as his breath grazed her ear. “Why me?”

Did conversation really have to be a part of this? She slid her hands over his chest, up over his shoulders, delighting in the firmness of his body. How hard and raw he was. “Why not?” was the only thing that slipped from her lips.

“You had a bar full of guys who would’ve killed to be in my spot right now.”

You were nice to me sounded way too freaking lame, and that wasn’t it, at least not entirely. Plenty of men had been nice to her. She hadn’t wanted to f**k them all. “Maybe if any one of them had done my tattoo, and looked like you, and talked like you, and made me feel better…he’d be in your spot right now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So I was in the right place at the right time?” he murmured, moving closer. His hard chest—oh God, yes!—pressed against her, and she rubbed against him, getting the friction her aching br**sts had been craving.

“Isn’t that how so many things in life work out? I saw you. I wanted you.”

“Do you always get what you want?”

She paused, the pain of a thousand memories swamping her. “You know I don’t.”

The breath and the touch she had been so enjoying against her skin stilled for a moment. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to dredge anything up there.”

Gabby wound her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could just make out his features. “Ian, stop talking and f**k me. All will be forgiven.”

And that was the only command, the only control, she wanted for the rest of the night. She wanted to give herself over. She didn’t want to think about anything except him and what he was doing to her.

His kiss pulled the breath from her lungs. His tongue quested for entrance, and she gave it. Just beneath the seductive flavor that was uniquely his, she tasted alcohol, and it intoxicated her as much as if she’d drunk it herself. But that was him, she knew, making her body feel light, making her feel as if she floated in the darkness.

And then she was floating in the darkness, because he picked her up with his hands under her ass as easily as if she weighed nothing. Instinctively, her legs went around his hips. She ground against his erection in a slow, primal drag that ripped a groan from his throat.

Then they were moving, and she only hoped he knew the layout of his apartment well enough that she wasn’t about to slam into anything. A moment later, she lurched dizzily forward, giving a little shriek into his mouth. They landed on what was obviously his bed, and he chuckled. His strong fingers kneaded her ass as she lay atop him, and…oh damn, that felt good. Especially when those fingers crept down under her skirt, into the crease of her body, feathering over her swollen clit separated from his touch by only her panties.

All the while, he feasted at her lips, asserting his dominance even in a submissive position. His hand tangled in her long hair, pulling it tight at her scalp, and she loved it. Loved it. Needed it. Needed him rough in a way she’d never known from anyone else. His kiss drove her from her senses, but she was no longer content with it. Sitting up, she found the hem of his T-shirt and slid her hands under it, finding all that smooth, rock-hard muscle. He groaned, driving his hips upward and lifting her higher. Jesus Christ, but this was gonna be a ride. He made her feel tiny.

Grasping his shirt, she wrenched it upward. He sat up to help her strip it off, both of them sharing a chuckle when it became momentarily tangled up in his arms. Then his lips found hers again, softer, sweeter, but fleeting. He took the hem of her dress and lifted it gently, careful not to scrape her back as he drew it upward and over her head.

That, maybe more than anything else tonight, made her heart squeeze up in her chest. But she didn’t have long to fawn over it, because his big hands slid up her waist and found her br**sts, easily encasing them. She’d never thought herself inadequate in that department, but again, he made her feel almost insubstantial. And the tightness of her ni**les against his palms…

…had nothing on the feel of his mouth on them, which came next with a swiftness that shocked the breath from her.

He went from one to the other, making her dizzy, making her crazy. She raked her fingernails up his back, and in return he drew her right nipple deep into his mouth and sucked. In the depths of her body where he had yet to touch her, she throbbed. Her pu**y clenched. She undulated against him, trying to make him feel how much she needed him, needed him now. He didn’t care. He was content to suck her and drive her insane. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he moved to the other nipple and started all over again.