Motorcycle Man Page 61

“And it’d be good, you stop touchin’ me.”

“I like touching you,” I said softly.

“I like it too, baby, but it ain’t helpin’ my fight to stop gettin’ hard.”

My hands stopped and I advised, “Then you might want to stop whispering against my lips, Tack, because that’s turning me on.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hmm.”

“Doesn’t take much for you, does it, darlin’?”

With the others, it did.

But not with him.

I didn’t share that.

Instead I said, “It’s the goatee.”

“Bullshit, it’s me.”

He totally had me figured out.

“Well, it is your goatee.”

That was when I felt his lips smile against my mouth.

Then, alas, he lifted his lips from mine and stated, “Right, been a good night, Red. I learned somethin’ gets up your ass, you don’t delay and with only a little coaxing, you ask me about it. I learned you think I’m hot. I learned you can be cute when you’re turned on. And it’s a definite that I’m never shavin’ off this goatee.” I grinned at him through the dark but he concluded with, “Not that I was goin’ to anyway.”

“Well I’m glad you’ve declared that as a definite,” I told him with humor vibrating in my voice. “Brings me relief.”

“Babe, you’re still bein’ cute.”

“Oh. Right. I’ll stop doing that right away.”

“Christ, still f**kin’ cute,” he muttered and his thumb did another sweep and grazed the curve of my breast causing another shiver at the same time my ni**les got hard.

Time for a subject change.

“When something gets up my ass, I don’t delay in asking you about it?”

“Nope.”

“What was up my ass?”

“You cottoned onto the fact the kids didn’t blink I had a woman in my house. That crawled up your ass. You sat on it for about fifteen minutes. Only a little pressure from me, you put it out there.”

“Oh.”

“Before you ask and so you don’t have to think about it, I like that too. Definitely.”

“Good,” I whispered, giving him a squeeze with my arms.

“Fuck me, now she’s bein’ sweet.”

I laughed softly and offered, “You want me to get pissed and maybe throw a rant?”

“No, ‘cause that makes me hard too.”

“What doesn’t make you hard?”

“Comes to you, not much.”

Oh boy.

That was nice.

“Honey,” I whispered.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, pressing his h*ps into me, “seriously, stop being sweet.”

“Maybe we should go to sleep. I can’t be anything unconscious.”

“Yeah you can. You go back to cute.”

I blinked up at him and asked, “Pardon?”

“You go back to cute. You got these times when you press close and you make noises.”

“I make…” I paused, “noises?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you saying I snore?”

“No. I’m sayin’ you make noises.”

“What kind of noises?”

Tack didn’t respond for a moment then he asked, “You don’t know you make ‘em?”

“No.”

“No other man told you about them?”

“No.”

“Fuck, how many men have you had?”

“Tack,” I steered him back to target, “noises?”

“In your throat. Like little moans. They’re cute.”

Oh God.

“They’re also hot.”

Well, that wasn’t so bad.

Tack went on. “They sound like you sound when I’m buildin’ it.”

“Building what?”

“Buildin’ you up to coming.”

“Great,” I muttered. “I don’t know whether to be mortified or turned on.”

“How about just bein’ you. It isn’t mortifying ‘cause it’s cute, it’s sweet and it’s hot. But it don’t matter since there’s nothing you can do about it anyway.”

This was good advice so I decided to take it.

“Though,” he continued, “when you do it pressin’ up against me, it wakes me up, I hear it, you’re close, I don’t know whether to lie there and enjoy it or wake you up and f**k you.”

At that moment, I would have advised him to choose the latter.

Instead, I suggested, “Go with your gut.”

“Gut tells me to f**k you.”

“Like I said.”

Tack threw his head back and burst out laughing and I grinned through the dark at him while he did it. My arms around him, holding his big, shaking body close and really liking the sound and feel of his humor all around me.

When he was mostly done, but still chuckling, he dropped his head and took my mouth in a hot, sweet, wet, long kiss that left me slightly breathless and holding him even closer.

“All right, Red, time for some shuteye,” he muttered when he released my mouth.

“Okay, honey.”

“Three.”

“Pardon?”

“Three honeys.”

He was counting.

“Now you’re being sweet,” I whispered.

“You gonna fall apart on me?”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Good,” he said softly then dipped his head again and touched his mouth to mine before he rolled, taking me with him and settling us with me tucked into his side. “Now sleep.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Attitude,” he muttered.

“What do you expect? You just ordered me to go to sleep.”

“You wanna watch TV with the kids?”

“No.”

“So what’s with the sass?”

“It’s me.”

“It is,” he sighed. “Fuck me.”

“You said you like it,” I reminded him.

“Gotta shut up to sleep, Tyra,” he noted.

“Apparently I don’t since I make noises while sleeping.”

“Fuck,” he murmured.

“All right, all right. I’ll shut up and sleep.”

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