Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Serena

Ican’t believe that I’m sitting on Smoke’s lap with his hard cock pressing against my pussy ready to indulge in my oldest and best fantasy. His strong body feels so good pressed against mine. My fingers slip through his neatly trimmed beard as I prepare to take his breath away. I hope and pray he likes this as much as I do.

I’m practically vibrating with excitement as our lips touch. I start out by ghosting my lips over his, in a teasing, barely there kiss that’s meant to be a promise of things to come. I can feel his cock surge underneath me.

Swiping my tongue against the seam of his lips in a silent request for him to open his mouth so we can tangle tongues, works. Not only does his mouth open but his tongue meets mine, sliding sinuously and twining with mine. For a single moment in time, we’re breathing the same air and it’s the most intimate experience I’ve ever had with a man.

At some point Smoke’s dominant side surfaces and I quickly lose control of the kiss. One hand slides up and I feel his hand grasp the back of my neck. This man plunders my mouth like he owns me, and I honestly love it. It feels like Smoke has flipped a switch, one that drenches my pussy and makes me want nothing more than to open his pants and ride his cock until I pass out.

I can’t imagine how he knows what I’m thinking, but his hand comes down to run over my clit. Even through my clothing this feels amazing. All I want is more, more, more. Smoke has a nice touch, just like I knew he would. And my body is on fire for him.

He pulls away slightly, saying, “We should probably stop. Kisses are fine but we’re crossing some lines here.”

Instead of arguing with him, I kiss him again. This time I run my fingers through his hair and massage his scalp while I grind my pussy against his greedy cock. He groans with pleasure. I hear him whisper, “Girl, what are you doing to me?”

If he’s talking, I’m clearly not kissing him hard enough, so I redouble my efforts. I don’t know how long we kiss but when we finally pull apart, we’re both breathless and thoroughly aroused.

“Had enough, princess?” Smoke asks in a raspy voice. I can tell from the look on his face that he’d like nothing better than to throw me down and have his sexy way with me. As enticing as that thought is, I scoot back off his lap and stand in front of him. He gazes up at me as he tries to get control of his arousal. I can tell because he takes a few deep, cleansing breaths and shoves down his thick cock, which looks like a hard bar in his pants.

I take a step back, because if there is one thing that I’ve learned from men it’s that they think with their dicks. They’ll act like you’re their queen and promise you the moon when they’re aching for sex—and roll over, grab their pants and leave the minute they get what they want.

I like to think that the man I’ve been crushing on for the better part of my life isn’t like that. But I’ve been gone a long time, and I don’t know how well the fantasy I’ve had of Smoke all these years matches up with reality. After dating one asshole after another in the city, I’m not wild about getting used by this hot biker the moment I roll into town.

My father always told the brothers one of the things that distinguishes humans from animals is our ability to control our baser instincts. That’s what I’m doing tonight. I’m stepping back before I do something stupid. Admittedly, practically dry humping Smoke, the first moment I was alone with him is pushing the boundaries of what is stupid—so on that count, I’m not doing so well.

“So, on a scale of one to ten how would you rate my kiss?” Sure, I’m using humor to diffuse a tense situation, but in my own defense it’s a technique that normally works for me.

Smoke comes to his feet looking worlds more rattled than I feel. He shoves the fingers of one hand through his dark hair before responding. “I’d say that was at least a hundred and nine.”

I cram my hands into the pockets of my dress pants and act all shy. “Aw, shucks. Ain’t nobody ever called me a good kisser before.”

Smoke’s shoulders relax as he chuckles. “You are way too smart and sophisticated to pass for a shy ingénue.”

I shot him a quick smile. “That’s a big word for you, Smoke. Did you get some extra schooling while I was gone.”

He came barreling toward me. “You’re a laugh a minute when you’re not teasing the fuck outta me.” Before I can object, he scoops me up, throws me over his shoulder and walks off with me.

Normally, I might be alarmed if a man did this because it feels like having all my personal power usurped. But I notice that Smoke is taking me back to the parking lot, so I just kick my feet and enjoy the masculine display that’s clearly meant to impress me with his strength.

He puts me down on my feet beside his motorcycle. It occurs to me to ask, “Do I need to chip in on gas for our long ride?” I’m only being half serious, because I know he won’t allow that.

He puts his fingers under my chin, tilts my head up and looks me in the eyes. “Your money is no good around me, princess. Besides, you paid your way in kisses tonight.”

I bite my bottom lip as his hand drops away. “Now that I know my kisses are golden, I should test drive them as currency with the rest of the brothers.” I know I’m pricking at his ego, but I want to see his reaction.

Instead of getting angry and screaming at me, he quickly scoops down and steals a kiss. When he pulls back, he’s got a smug smile on his face. “Your kisses are not golden, my confused little princess. They’re made of copper. It’s only when your copper kisses are mixed with mine that the alchemy happens.”

I push him back with one hand and grab my helmet from the handlebar. “Leave it to you to bring up the little alchemy game I was obsessed with as a tween. Jesus, how did you even remember that?”

He picks up his helmet and taps the side of his head with his free hand. “It’s all in here, sweetness. I’ve got a photographic memory, as well as a silver tongue.”

Watching him shove his helmet down around his head, I scoot back on the bike to make room for him. When he slides onto the seat in front of me, I say, “You’re a fibber. If you had a photographic memory, you’d remember every bike ride we ever took.”

He turns to look at me. “I took you home twenty-seven times. To the clubhouse nine times. Shopping eight times. To school seven times. To summer camp five times. To the hospital once. To the ballpark once. And on one long ride after your welcome home party. That’s fifty-nine rides with you on the back of my bike.”

I feel myself blushing because his numbers are exactly what I remember.

“Want me to tell you what you were wearing each time, what you bought at the store and who I beat up for talking trash about you?”

Biting my bottom lip, I shake my head, only because I’m getting too turned on to make words. He paid a lot more attention to me than he wants to admit. Even if he had no romantic feelings toward me back then, he noticed me. Something about that makes me feel seen for the person I am, rather than just being noticed once I grew into eye candy. It flips all the right switches for me.

He says, “Fine. If you change your mind, let me know.” His hand comes up to lower the visor on his helmet. When he turns back around and starts the engine, I slide my arms firmly around his waist.

The long ride home is relaxing. I think over the situation with Smoke. Having a crush on my brother’s friend who didn’t notice me because he was being pulled in ten different directions by whatever was going on in his life at the time, is totally different than capturing his undivided attention as an adult woman. We’re peers now that I have my license to practice law. Technically, I could hang out a shingle and become his competitor.

I close my legs tighter around his hips. One of his hands comes back to rest against my thigh for a brief moment. I like everything about this man but I’m not ready to give my heart too quickly. I’ve done that before, and it’s led to nothing but pain and heartbreak.

I rest my cheek against his back and just relax. As the landscape goes whizzing by, I realize something profound. My safe place has always been with Smoke. All those rides were during times of stress in my life.

As we’re riding along the highway, an old memory of my father comes floating to the surface. He was standing behind his desk at the clubhouse. I was on the other side, glaring at him. We were having one last blowout over me going off to college. He wanted me to go to a local college, where the brothers could look out for me. But I wanted to exercise some independence and make my own way in the world. I could see the moment he accepted defeat. He dropped down into his desk chair and said, “Fine. Get Smoke to take you to the airport.”

I’d been shocked that he’d given in, and I had asked if he was sure. Then my father had told me that the big city was nothing like Las Salinas, and I would come up against things I couldn’t handle on my own. He told me to ask for help if I needed it, and that Smoke was a good man and I could always rely on him.

I only just now realize how I had asked my father one thing, and he answered another. I wanted to know if he was serious about not fighting me about going off to college. What I got was a lecture on how great and reliable Smoke was. At the time it hadn’t made any sense to me. In retrospect, my father’s cryptic response almost sounded like he was giving Smoke his blessing, if I ever wanted him.

I let that roll around in my head while I hold on tight to the man, that I now believe my father might have chosen for me. The question that immediately comes to mind is whether my father had assigned him to transport me all those times, hoping a mutual liking would spark between us or because he could see that I was infatuated with Smoke? God knows how obvious my crush must have been to the one person who knew me best. My father’s sharp eyes missed nothing. I feel certain it might have been a combination of things, but me already liking Smoke had to have factored heavily into his sanctioning of the match.

Some small rebellious part of my mind wants me to never speak to Smoke again, simply because he was my father’s choice for me. However, feeling the warmth of his big masculine body seeping into my core makes me realize that I’ve got to see this thing between us through, see if there something to build a real relationship on. If the kissing is any indication, my father was right about him being my one. I won’t turn my back on the legacy he had in mind for me. Maybe, my father’s words were rolling around in my unconscious mind when I decided to run back home. I’m safe here, but not anywhere else. I know that now. With new knowledge comes the responsibility to use that knowledge wisely.

***

Eventually, Smoke pulls into Siege’s driveway. It’s close to midnight, which might be early for some folks, but I’m exhausted after my long, exciting day. He tries to help me off his bike like a gentleman, but I’ve spent a lot of time getting on and off his bike over the years and manage just fine on my own.

His hand comes up to flip his visor up. Suddenly, his bright green eyes are gazing at me. “Do you need me to walk you to the door.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not some love starved teen addicted to romantic ideals. So, no. I think I can walk up the sidewalk all by myself.”

“I wasn’t trying to be a dick or treat you like a child.”

“Good,” I say tartly. Reaching up, I grab his helmet, pull him forward and kiss him, hard and fast.”

Instead of letting him go, I playfully shove him away. “All grown up, remember?”

One thumb comes up to rub along his bottom lip. “Yeah. You look like a woman. Dress like a woman. Tease like a woman. And kiss like a woman.”

I am absolutely thrilled at his weird acknowledgement that no part of him still thinks of me as a child, and I wonder if that was what had been holding him back all these years, that he still thought of me as his friend’s little sister.

“See you bright and early on Monday, right?”

He nods, as if mesmerized by my sassy attitude. I turn and walk up the sidewalk. Using the spare key my brother gave me, I slide it into the lock, punch my code into the security system and let myself in. By the time I have the door open, Smoke is backing out of the driveway. Since motorcycles don’t have reverse, he walks it back showing off every muscle in his ripped form.

Everyone appears to be sleeping, so I go up to my room as quietly as possible, lock the bedroom door behind me, shuck my clothing and climb under the covers. The bed is soft, and the blankets are warm. In no time, I’m replaying the night in my head, especially the part where Smoke’s thick cock was pressed against my pussy.

My hand drifts down into my pajama bottoms and I stroke through my folds to wet my fingertips before swirling one finger around my clit. Round and round I go as I remember how having his dick pressed along my slit felt. The way his thick cock flexed and throbbed almost as if it could sense how much I wanted to impale myself on it. Smoke is one seriously well-endowed man. I imagine how the blunt tip of his cock would feel pressed against my opening.

My finger moves faster as I think of how he would stretch me to overflowing when he presses himself inside, forcing me to take every inch of him. My arousal spikes as I pleasure myself to the thought of him covering me with warmth and powering into me. My back bows off the bed when an orgasm thunders though my body, washing over me in waves as my hand slows to a lazy pace.

It’s shocking to realize that rubbing one out to the thought of Smoke is so much better than sex was with any former partner. If he turns out to be as good in real life as he is in my imagination, I might not be able to resist his sexy ass.