18. Tempe

18

Tempe

Jameson’s lips meet mine, and my heart leaps to my throat.

We’re stripped of who we are and fall into this moment. Two people with responsibilities we still don’t fully understand and didn’t have a choice in accepting them. Weight we’ve been carrying around, unwilling to share the burden when it’s hard to trust anyone but ourselves.

Tonight, we shoulder it together. We bend to the pressure. We submit.

Jameson’s fingers thread through my hair, and he holds me to him. The scruff of his jaw is rough like he is. Burning me from my cheek to my soul.

I part my lips, and he drinks me in. His tongue reaches for mine, and I cup his face in my palms. The most delicate kiss from a man with blood on his hands.

Hands that keep me safe.

Hands that make my skin prickle .

Our teeth clash, and our tongues tangle. And even if the kiss is awkward and upside down, it wakes my every nerve ending.

He smells like leather even out of his cut. He tastes like whiskey mixed with the cinnamon gum he was chewing after dinner. And he feels like my body’s favorite drug as he kisses me slowly.

With purpose.

Jameson’s warm back presses to my core, and when he lightens his grip on my hair, I pull back to look down at him sitting on the floor between my legs. I stare into the gray eyes that stole my soul the moment I first looked into them.

I promised I’d never give myself to a man like the ones my mom always fell for.

Promised I was smarter than to hand my heart to a biker.

Looking into Jameson’s eyes, I don’t know where I went wrong—or if this even is. All I know is that I need more of him.

“You’re supposed to hate me, Tempe.” He blinks up at me. “Why are you kissing me back?”

“Maybe because you’re good at it.” I smile, brushing my fingers over the stubble on his jaw, pulling his mouth to mine again.

Except this time, he’s anything but sweet. His fingers twist tight in my hair. And even if I’m the one hovering over him, he’s the one who claims me.

Jameson pulls away just long enough to turn around, and he picks me up so fast that my head rushes as he lifts me off the couch. I wrap my legs around him, and my core grinds against his body. Beneath his hands, I feel the full year it’s been since I’ve been touched.

All the anger I’ve harbored toward this man slips away, and I lose myself in him for the night. I lose the responsibilities I’ll wake up to in the morning. I let myself be his.

“Jameson.” I moan against his mouth when his hand strokes my thigh, and he pulls back. “Please don’t stop.”

His eyes are closed when I tip my forehead to his. I sense him holding back with all he has. But his body tells me what he doesn’t want to as his hard cock puts pressure on my core.

“I’m a bad idea, Tempe.” He teases my lower lip, slowly peppering kisses along my jaw. “I’m not good for anyone.”

“I’m no picnic myself.” I tip my head back when he kisses the center of my throat. “Besides, it’s just one night. I’m sure you do this all the time.”

Jameson pauses, looking me in the eyes. “You’re wrong. I never do this .”

I don’t know what to make of his comment, but it feels a little like a challenge I can’t resist.

“Are you scared, Steel?” I smirk, dipping my mouth by his ear and run my tongue along the shell of it. “Is the president of the Twisted Kings afraid of what could happen?”

“Are you testing me, wildfire?”

“Maybe.”

Jameson spins me around, pinning my back to the wall so hard it knocks the air from my chest. He uses the wall as leverage to pin me with his body, and one hand finds my jaw, gripping it hard.

He drags his thumb roughly over my lower lip. “Most people know better than to test an MC president.”

“And what if they don’t?” I tease.

“Then I’m happy to teach them a lesson.”

He grazes his thumb up and over my mouth, and when he pauses at my lips, I part them. He presses his thumb over my tongue, and I close my mouth around him. He pulls it out slowly, and I suck on it as he does, eliciting the most intoxicating growl from him.

“Are you worried I can’t handle you, Jameson?” I wet my lips.

“I wish you could.” He rubs his wet thumb over my mouth, fixating on where he’s smearing my ChapStick. “You have no idea how much I wish you could.”

“I promise I’m not as innocent as you might think.”

“You’re a good girl. Or, at least, too good for a man like me.”

I tip my chin up, sinking against him, and my whole body hums with everything I’ve wanted since the first moment we caught gazes across the bar. Even if back then I didn’t see it.

“I’m not scared of you.” I run my fingers through his thick hair, scratching his scalp. “Besides… I’ll let you in on a little secret. Even a good girl wants to be fucked like she’s bad sometimes.”

I’m never this confident. But with Jameson pinning me against a wall, I want to tease him. To tempt him. To challenge him until he makes me pay for all of it .

“Are you trying to tease me, wildfire?” He cups my jaw and presses me to the wall. “You should be careful with this smart little mouth.”

“Make me.”

He smirks. “You really don’t want me to do that.”

“Or do I?”

“Let’s find out.” Jameson grins, setting me down slowly. “Get in my room, wildfire.”

I wait for him to take it back, but he doesn’t, so I slowly make my way toward his bedroom. Jameson snatches the bottle of whiskey as he follows me.

With every step, my mind begs me to turn back. But my body hasn’t felt this alive in a long time.

Jameson demands control, and I need that.

To be mindless.

To be free.

I don’t know what’s to come when I leave the compound. But for tonight, I don’t want to think about it.

When I reach his moonlit bedroom, I’m reminded of his room at the clubhouse. The decorations are simple and impersonal. It’s neat, but not because that’s how he is. More so because he never spends any time in it.

Still, it feels like him. A room needs nothing more than Jameson Steel in the flesh to make a statement.

Stopping in the center, I spin around to face Jameson, who’s leaning against the doorframe, holding the bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pops off the top and brings it to his lips, taking a sip as he watches me.

“You look good in here, wildfire. ”

“And yet, you’re still standing over there. Do you always play hard to get, Jameson?”

“I’m anything but hard to get when it comes to you.”

“Then why aren’t you teaching me my lesson yet?” I drag my teeth over my lower lip, holding my hands behind my back and testing him.

Jameson smirks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he lifts off the doorframe. He eats up the space between us in four steps, towering over me.

“You want to play this little game?” He tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “Then strip for me.”

I bite my lip, reaching for the bottom of my T-shirt and stripping it off, tossing it to the side. My nipples peak under my lace bra in the cool bedroom.

He shakes his head when I pause. “You’re not done yet.”

I reach for the button on my pants, slowly unzipping them. Taking my time to dip my thumbs into the band and slowly dragging them down my legs. The moon shines through the windows, painting me in the glow of the desert at night when I stand in front of him in nothing but my bra and underwear.

“You think it’s cute to tease me?” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a knife, flicking it open. “I said strip. That means everything.”

One hand holds the bottle of whiskey while he uses the other to trace the knife along my ribs. He sweeps the blade up between my breasts, hooking the lace bow between them. With a swift tug, he slices through it, popping my bra open .

My nipples pebble with his attention as he slowly drags the knife down one breast, teasing my nipple with the tip and then trailing it over my stomach. He pauses at the thin strap that holds my underwear to my hips, cutting through that too.

“That’s better.” He smirks, tossing his knife to the dresser. “Now, get on your knees.”

Slowly, I drop to my knees in front of Jameson.

He’s still fully clothed as he stands over me. His jaw clenches, and he’s everything that embodies the title on his patch.

Ego.

Confidence.

Power.

“How can I serve you, President?”

Jameson swallows hard, watching me, slipping his belt from the loops with his free hand.

“You’re too sweet to be a bad girl.” He tugs his belt off, tossing it to the side. “But you like playing with fire. You like seeing how hot you can stand the heat before it burns you. I warned you not to push this.”

“Maybe you aren’t the only one who enjoys a challenge.” I tip my chin up.

“We’re about to find out.” Jameson grips my jaw. “Open.”

He taps his thumb on my lips, and I part them. The moment I do, he hooks his thumb over my teeth, holding my jaw wide as he lifts the whiskey and dribbles it over my lip, spilling a shot into my mouth. It coats my tongue and drips down my chin .

“Swallow.” But he doesn’t move his thumb, so I have to close my lips around it, sucking as I swallow the alcohol down.

My head swims as I take a breath.

“Good girl.”

He brings the bottle to his lips next, taking a drink. But instead of swallowing, he holds my mouth open and leans down, feeding me the shot straight from his lips. He presses his mouth to mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth as I swallow the whiskey down.

Claiming me.

Consuming me.

Jameson’s chest rumbles with a low growl, and his fingers lace into the back of my hair, deepening the kiss. Whiskey coats my throat—our lips. It drips down my chin and over my breasts, and when he pulls back, I’m lightheaded.

“Your mouth is so pretty when it’s pleasing me.” Jameson sets the whiskey down on the dresser and reaches for his zipper. “Let’s see what else it can do.”

He pulls his cock out, stroking from base to tip. “Put your pretty lips around my cock, and thank me for forgiving you for your family’s sins.”

I muster all my confidence, wanting to be everything he sees in me and more. Wanting to play into this fantasy so I can spend a night outside of my head. At his mercy. Used and pleased at his discretion.

Tomorrow, we can go back into battle. But right now, this is just us lifting the weight .

He grips his cock, and I know there’s no way I’ll be able to take him down my throat. The sheer size of him makes me wonder how much I’ll be able to take in general. But as he pumps slowly up and down his length, I want to take him in every way.

Jameson angles my chin up and taps my mouth. “Open.”

I do as I’m told, and the second my lips part, he shoves his thumb into my mouth, rubbing it over my tongue. With every stroke, I stick it out farther, seeking his touch.

Jameson strokes himself, stepping closer, squeezing his cock to pull a bead of cum from the tip. He watches it drip onto my tongue, but he refuses to release my jaw so I can swallow it down.

“What is this needy tongue of yours begging for, Tempe? A shot of whiskey or my cum?” He smears another drip of cum over my lips. “Or maybe both?”

I can’t answer him with how he’s holding my jaw, but I want everything .

“You think you know me, wildfire. But you have no idea who you’re dealing with. No idea the things I’ve wanted to do to you. You really should have thought twice before giving me permission.”

He pulls my mouth open wider.

“You should have known better than to make yourself my plaything.”

Pulling his thumb out, he replaces it with the head of his cock, and I wrap my lips around him. But when I try to take him deeper, he grabs the back of my hair and holds me in place.

“Don’t be so greedy. Play with it.”

I do as I’m told, closing my lips over the head of his cock and swirling my tongue around the tip. Teasing him. And I can’t figure out why he won’t let me take him deeper.

Jameson stands over me, and I stare up into his eyes. His body tenses with every swirl of my tongue. Every flick gives me a reaction, and I crave them all.

Flattening my tongue, I rub it over the leaking slit, tasting him mixed with the whiskey. And when my lips suction as I swallow, a growl vibrates his chest, so I do it again.

But before I can do more, he pulls my hair, tugging me off him.

“I wasn’t done.”

“Neither am I.” He grabs my jaw, leaning down to brush his mouth over mine. “Get on the bed.”