Motorcycle Man Page 23

“Listen to me, baby,” he said gently.

“No,” I replied sharply.

“Tyra, listen to me.”

“No!”

His thumb moved to press lightly against both of my lips as his head dipped down and to the side and I felt his teeth nip my earlobe. My body stilled under his at the shocking headiness of his nip, my br**sts swelled, my fingers curled into his shoulders and my belly dropped all before he growled into my ear, “Listen to me.”

When I made no response, his thumb slid from my lips and his hand spanned the side of my head, he kept his mouth at my other ear and he held me captive as he spoke.

“Shit is not good in the Club. Shit is not good outside the Club. Shit is not good with Naomi. I got a lot goin’ down, it needs my attention. I need to stay sharp. I do not need to be thinkin’ about your sweet mouth wrapped around my c**k or my dick buried in your tight, wet pu**y, which is all I wanna think about. When I say I gotta stay sharp, baby, I mean, I don’t, I get dead and when I say that, I mean the not breathin’ anymore variety. You don’t fit into all the shit that’s swirlin’ in my life right now unless I can make you fit. That’s all I got to give you and that’s all you’re gonna get. And you’re gonna take what I have to give, Red. You’re not gonna resign. You’re not gonna disappear. You’re gonna be where I want you to be, you’re gonna do what I want you to do and you’re gonna listen to what I have to say and if you don’t do it, I’ll find a way to make you do it. That scares you, you gotta learn to get over it and you’ll learn not to be scared because I’d rather cut off my own arm than ever hurt you. But you f**ked up, baby. You showed me somethin’ I want and I get what I want and I do what I gotta do to get it. So this needs to sink in right f**kin’ now, Tyra. You… are… stuck. Find some way to deal with it and my advice would be, don’t fight it. You fight it, I’ll take you on. That’s a guarantee. Do you understand me?”

“You’re scaring me right now, Tack,” I admitted breathily because I was lying on my back but everything he said made my breath ragged and there was nothing I could do to stop it mainly because I wasn’t lying. He was scaring me right now.

He lifted his head, his other hand came up so both were framing my face and he looked into my eyes when he whispered, “What scares you?”

What scared me? My God, he was insane.

“All of it,” I told him.

“Break it down,” he demanded.

“Shit isn’t good in the Club?”

“No, shit is not good in the Club.”

He didn’t elaborate, just confirmed so I went on. “Outside the Club?”

“Same outside the Club.”

Confirmation not elaboration and clearly I would get none of the last.

So, I whispered, “You could get the not breathing variety of dead?”

“Yep.”

“Ohmigod.” I was still whispering.

“Baby –”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s better you don’t know.”

I was willing to go with that.

“Okay, then, can I just say that I’m not all fired up to live in your world if that’s one of the problems you face.”

At that, for some insane reason, Tack grinned. Then he said, “See I got more explaining to do.”

Oh boy.

Before I could stop him (not that I could stop him), he went on, “Now, baby, you coulda taken your job with Ride and kept your shit separate. You didn’t. You came and partied with the Club. Then you took my hand and partied with me. That means I get to claim you and I have. There’s no out once you’re in and, Tyra, darlin’, you’re in.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s the way of the world.”

“No it isn’t.”

“All right, babe, I’ll amend that. That’s the way of my world.”

“Okay, Tack, but that’s ridiculous!” My voice was rising and I declared, “I want out.”

“You don’t want out.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Trust me, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I so totally do.”

“You want me to prove you don’t?”

Uh-oh.

“No,” I answered quickly as his hands tilted my head one way, his head slanted the other, his eyes dropped to my mouth and his face got closer.

“Too late,” he muttered against my lips. I pressed them together. He changed tactics at the last minute, his tongue slid along my lips and my eyes drifted closed as my hands pressed against his shoulders. “Open your mouth for me, baby,” he whispered against my lips.

I shook my head.

“I wanna taste you, open for me, darlin’.” He was still whispering.

I shook my head again.

His thumb moved across my cheek, sweeping across my lips again, his tongue following and all that felt way, way, way too nice.

“Open for me,” he urged gently.

I shook my head again at the same time pressing it back into the pillows.

His hand left my head and moved down my neck, my chest, as I felt his h*ps grind into mine.

Mm, that felt way, way, way too nice too.

Damn.

“Open,” he ordered.

I squeezed my eyes tight.

His hand kept moving down.

“Open, baby.”

I pressed my lips tight.

His fingers found the hem of my camisole, dipped under then the warmth of his hand was moving up my skin.

I squirmed under him.

“Open.”

I turned my face away from his and his hand cupped my breast.

“Open,” he whispered against the sensitive skin of my neck.

“No,” I whispered to the pillow.

His hand at my head moved to curve around my jaw, he pulled my face to his again just as his fingers curled into my bra and yanked the cup down, scraping the nipple, making it go hard. I sucked in breath as my body instinctively melted under his, the inside of my thighs pressing into the sides of his h*ps then his thumb swept across my tightened nipple, my lips parted and I gasped.

“There it is,” he muttered, then his lips crushed mine and his tongue slid into my mouth.

God, he tasted good. I forgot how good. So good, he tasted great.

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