Chapter Three

Riot

She's late.

I look down at the wristwatch for the umptieth time and realize with annoyance that it's only been three minutes since I last checked.

Maybe she changed her mind and decided not to show up after all.

No way. When I texted her the time and location this afternoon, she seemed on board with the idea of meeting up with me. There is a huge chance that she changed her mind when she learned of our meeting spot, though.

I should have reconsidered my plans to meet up at this bar, but it's owned by the club, and I'm comfortable here. The place is not all that bad for a first date with its flickering neon lights and lively atmosphere. It might be a biker bar, but it's for that reason that it's one of the safest places I could meet Sasha. I imagine it will be a bit of a shock for my shy little angel, but that is what I am aiming for.

With Sasha, I want to stand out to her. Make sure that every moment I spend with her is memorable to the shy girl.

A loud crash breaks through my thoughts, and I turn around to watch as a waitress hurries to wipe down the alcohol spilled on one of the tables. My lips stretch in a slow grin when I realize my angel is at the center of the commotion. She must've bumped into the table and spilled their drinks with the way she's apologizing to the men seated around the table.

I take in her outfit for the night and almost swallow my tongue when my eyes settle on the stunning red dress. It hugs her body perfectly, revealing all the curves that ugly suit from earlier hid. Her hair is styled in loose waves, cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall of silk, and . . . I forget myself.

She looks like a completely different person in her new ensemble, but hell, she'd look beautiful in rags. Sasha would be a vision in whatever she wears, but tonight . . . she's a goddamned dream.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" a rough voice draws my attention back to the commotion. The deer in the headlights look on Sasha's face has me pushing away from my table and approaching her. I step up behind the distraught girl and lean down to whisper in her ear, "You're late."

She jumps forward, bumping the table again and sending the remaining drinks spilling. I grab her arm and draw her away from the table before turning back to the fuming patrons.

"Apologies, fellas, my girl is a bit of a klutz," I tell the men glaring at the girl hiding behind me. "How about I cover your tab for tonight to make it up to you guys?"

The men seem to appraise me, but when their eyes settle on the club patch on my jacket, they quickly nod in agreement. Well, it's not like they have much choice. Not only are they on club territory, I could take all three of them without breaking a sweat if it came to that, and they're sober enough to realize it.

With that little issue settled, I turn around to face my shaken angel, and I can tell just how out of sorts she feels in this place, and for the first time, I consider taking her somewhere else. My aim was to give her a new experience, not traumatize her.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Her beautiful eyes lift to mine, and that alone is enough to send my heart hammering in my chest. "I'm fine," she whispers. "I . . . I need to sit."

"We can leave if you want."

"And go where?"

Is that a challenge I read in her eyes? "Someplace quieter. There is a bistro down the street, it should be quieter than here.

I could be wrong, but I think I read disappointment in her eyes, which makes no sense to me.

"This place is fine," she says instead.

"Okay."

I guide her back to my table and call over the waitress. Sasha asks me to order a drink for her, and I request a cocktail for her and fresh whiskey for me, which arrives only a few moments later. I wait for her to take a sip of her beverage, and her eyes light up in surprise.

"Do you like it?" I say, my tone teasing.

"It's delicious, what is it?"

"A Shirley Temple," I tell her. "It's a non-alcoholic drink."

Her eyes lock on mine in surprise over the rim of the glass. "But we're in a bar, and I . . . I'm twenty-one."

"Did you want something with alcohol in it?"

She drops her gaze, twirling the straw in the drink. "Maybe," I read on her lips. I would have missed it if I wasn't looking at her. I'm always looking at her.

"If you want something alcoholic, you can try mine." I slide the glass of whiskey to her, watching to see her reaction. She grabs the glass to lift it to her lips, and my eyes follow, wishing it was my lips on hers instead.

Fuck, they're cherry red too. When they part against the glass, my hard cock throbs in my pants, begging to be freed and buried in that sexy mouth.

Heaven above, she's killing me, this girl.

She winces at the first taste of the drink before sliding my glass back to me. "I think I'll stick to my drink." She washes the whiskey taste from her mouth with her drink, which I think is a shame. I would give everything to taste the whiskey on her tongue.

I bet it's intoxicating. Her taste.

"So, why did you want to see me?" she asks, nursing her Shirley Temple while staring up at me with her wide innocent eyes. "You said you don't want money."

"No."

"Then what is it you want from me?"

Everything, sweetheart.

Voicing my desires will only send her running away, and I can't have that. "This," I say instead. "A night with a beautiful girl is what I want."

She blinks at me, confusion written all over her face. "You don't want . . . anything else?"

"Are you going to offer me money again?" My voice comes out a little rough as I stare at her. "Do you do that a lot?"

"It's easier," she mutters, bringing her lips down on the rim of her glass.

"Easier as opposed to confronting someone attempting to take advantage of you?"

She doesn't respond, and that's all I need for an answer. Just the thought of someone taking advantage of Sasha has my teeth clenching and wanting to seek out every last person who has done this to her when I have the sudden realization that I am no better than them.

Fuck!

The thought settles in the pit of my stomach like a brick.

"Is Riot your real name?" Her voice draws me back from my thoughts to find her staring up at me curiously.

"It is the only one I answer to," I tell her. "Whatever name I had before is not important anymore."

I wait for her to ask before what, but to my surprise, she doesn't. Instead, her eyes shift from mine to look around the bar. "Do they serve food here? I haven't had anything all day."

"No, but there is a food truck down the street that should still be open. We can grab something there."

She's already getting up the second my words are out. I wave to the waitress and know that she'll add the drinks to my tab—a perk of being a Steel Order member. We walk out, and although the food truck is only a few blocks from the bar, the thought of leaving my bike parked here doesn't sit well with me, so I suggest taking it.

"I've never been on a bike before," Sasha says, stepping beside me as we head toward the parking lot. She inches closer to me when she realizes how dark it is with the broken streetlight flickering dimly.

"It's not that hard. You'll just have to hold on tight to me," I tell her, crossing over and heading to my bike. Sasha trips, and I reach out to grab her, wrapping my arm around her waist before she can plummet down to the rough pavement. Really, how has this girl survived to this point? "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks. I think I missed a step," she says, her breath brushing softly against my lips, and just like that, I forget to point out that I'm lost in her.

Christ, I didn't realize just how close we were. Pulled flush against me with the soft press of her breasts against me and her sweet floral scent filling my nostrils, there is little I can do to control my need for this girl.

"I'm going to kiss you, Sasha," I tell her, my eyes dropping to her lips, parted as her breath comes in slow puffs.

"Okay," she whispers, and that is all I need to drop my head down to hers, my lips seeking hers hungrily. She whimpers, her perfect mouth opening underneath mine with a need that almost matches my own. Almost.

I slide my hand to her nape, holding her in place as I slip my tongue into her mouth, tasting the Sherley Temple on hers. She makes a broken noise when our tongues slide together, the friction so hot, it has my cock throbbing in my pants.

Fuck, she tastes just as I imagined. Addictive.

Everything about this girl is highly addictive, and I can't get enough of her. This is not the place to do this, but with the way she responds to my kiss, it's only natural that my control is in shreds. I walk her backward, trapping her between my body and my bike before bringing my hand to the perfect swell of her tits. She whimpers into the kiss, pushing against my hand as I rub my thumb over the growing peaks and fondling her sexy tits greedily.

"Goddamnit, angel, you're so hot," I rasp against her lips, smiling when she leans up to chase my mouth for another kiss. "I could kiss you all night, but this is not the place . . . Fuck!"

The curse slips from me when she grabs the lapels of my jacket and pulls my mouth back down on hers, moving restlessly against me.

"Don't stop," she begs. The breathy little noises she makes shoot straight to my cock, making it harden painfully behind my fly.

I nudge her hips apart and settle my leg between them, pressing the friction of my jeans against her core and rubbing my cock against her hip as I kiss her, savoring the perfection of her mouth and committing it to memory.

"Fuck, sweetheart, we have to stop," I pant, kissing her jaw and bringing my lips to her neck. "We can't do this, not here." She slips her finger into my hair, tugging hard at the strands even as she tilts her head back, allowing me access to her neck. She moans when I bite her earlobe before dragging my tongue over the smooth column on her throat, burying myself in her sweet floral scent. "Stop me, Sasha."

"No, need you," she breathes, a tremble racking her body when I press my hands to her back so she arches, allowing me to trace her nipples with my lips, licking at the tight buds over her dress. "Riot, please. D-don't stop."

Fuck me!

She's all worked up. A far cry from the shy girl I met earlier today. That girl couldn't even maintain eye contact for a few seconds, but this vixen is begging me to take her in a literal parking lot. My throbbing cock is on board with the idea.

I raise my head to look around and ensure the parking lot is empty before lifting the hem of her short dress and sliding my hands up her naked thighs. She bucks against me when I drag my knuckles over her pussy, and I groan deeply when I find her panties drenched. Fuck, they're practically molded to her slit with how wet she is.

"Is this what you want?" My voice is rough as I lock my gaze with hers in the dim light. "For me to fuck you in some parking lot?"

She hesitates for a moment, her innocent shyness returning briefly. Then determination comes into her gaze, and she says, "Yes."

My eyes remain locked on hers as I grab the waistband of her underwear and tug it down her thighs. She gasps when I tear the fabric away completely, leaving her bare beneath her dress.

"You're playing a dangerous game, little girl," I rasp, bringing my finger back to her sex and rubbing it in circles over her clit, gathering her arousal onto the thick digit. Her lips part on a soundless gasp as I tease her sex before withdrawing my finger and raising it to my lips. She tastes like heaven, intoxicating. "I won't stop at just a taste," I warn her.

"I don't want you to," she whispers dazedly, almost as if the cover of night has done what the day cannot. It gives her the courage to speak her desires.

"Keep your hands on me."

That is all the warning I give before I drop to my knees in front of this perfect girl. I push open her thighs and wish it wasn't so dark, so I could see her clearly, but tonight, I will settle for tasting her.

She whimpers when I lean in and inhale her soft peach scent, brushing my lips over her wet pussy to taste her arousal. Her flavor explodes in my mouth, and suddenly, I am ravenous. I bury my face between her legs and slide my tongue through the wet valley of her sex, gathering her sweet arousal. Her cry rings in my ears, but I don't stop to question how far her voice carries.

I'm too far gone to care who might find us here.

I clutch the back of her left thigh as I lap hungrily at her trembling sex, but she doesn't remain still for long. Sasha buries her fingers in my hair and starts rocking her sex toward my starved lips, slowly at first until her confidence and desperation grow. She coats my mouth and chin with her arousal that seems to increase by the second, her broken cries fueling me on.

"Oh God," she sobs, her palm slapping the seat of my bike when I drag my tongue over her clit before taking the swollen bud between my lips and sucking gently. Her legs stiffen against me, and she begins to shake at the light suction I apply to her clit, and it's not until I increase the pressure that she stills against me seconds before her body begins to convulse. She cries out her pleasure as I drag my tongue over her sex, lapping up the evidence of her climax.

My hands are on my zipper as I quickly rise to my feet. I unzip my jeans and push them down along with my briefs. She gasps when I slide an arm around her waist and lift her to the seat of my bike before guiding my cock to her pussy, my balls aching with the need to come.

"Your pussy is a fucking dream, sweetheart," I growl, sliding my shaft between her wet folds. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and buries her face against my neck.

"Yes," she moans, rocking against me.

"I'm not going to fuck you yet, baby. But when I do, I'm going to take you deep and fast. Fuck you so hard, you'll scream my name."

"Please," she whispers impatiently, propping her thighs on my hips as I thrust against her pussy. I'm dying to be inside her, to feel her warmth tight around my shaft. But my angel deserves more than a quick fuck in a parking lot.

The head of my cock catches on her hole as I move against her, making her cry out. I tease her opening with my tip, so fucking desperate for release. I have to remind myself why taking her here where anyone could pass by is a bad idea. But it seems my angel has other plans because she shocks me by tilting her hips up just as I thrust against her, causing my tip to press inside. We both gasp at the sensation, but before I can move away, Sasha puts her hands on my hips and pulls me in tighter, impaling herself completely on my cock in one swift move.

My eyes shoot wide open, and the cry she lets out barely registers through my shock, her fingers digging into my skin.

She's tight, fucking hell, she's so tight and warm. Her walls feel like a hot vise around my cock, pulsing around me and threatening to have me spilling immediately. My balls are drawn tight, and there is no ignoring the tingle at the base of my spine begging for me to move, to fuck her hard and fast just like I'd promised until I am spilling my seed into her womb.

But I can't move.

I can't think past the fact that Sasha is a virgin.