Page 15 of Burly Biker of Misty Mountain

She arched into my touch, grinding harder against my lap. I cupped her tit in my palm, smoothing my thumb over her fabric-covered nipple until it formed a stiff peak.

Threading my free hand into Katie’s hair, I angled her head to the side and kissed her. She gasped, achingly laced with need. I found the front of her jeans, unhooked the button, and teased at the waistband of her panties.

“You came from my voice this morning,” I whispered. “It’s time you came all over my fingers.”

When I slipped my hand into Katie’s panties, she clutched my wrist and locked her knees together. Fuck, she felt so good, I could touch her for days and I’d still want more.

But she’d clammed up for some reason.

“What’s the problem?” I coaxed.

Katie shook her head.

“It’s different—when we were on the phone. You can…seeme now.”

“And it’s one hell of a view.”

She didn’t respond. I removed my hand from her panties and gave her waist a squeeze. My cock ached, begging to continue what we’d started, but it didn’t look like that would happen.

“It’s a dark theater, dove. I can’t see that much.”

Katie sighed and returned to her chair, smoothing her clothes into place. Several seconds of silence passed.

I reached over and cupped my palm to the back of Katie’s head.

“Hey. What’s going on?”

She chewed her lower lip and gestured at me vaguely.

“You look all…tattooed. Muscled. Attractive.”

“Easy, tiger. You’ll send my ego into the stratosphere if you keep talking like that. I’ll never get my feet on solid ground again.”

Katie twisted her fingers in her lap.

“I don’t like my body though,” she said at last.

Silence settled between us, punctuated by the dialogue of the movie we weren’t paying attention to. I could list a thousand reasons why she should be proud as fuck for the body she had.

Thick thighs like hers were a gift from the gods that could bring a grown man to his knees. I would gladly worship her tits and her hips and those sweet, pink lips all day and all night long if she’d let me.

“Then we’ll have to work on that,” I said.

Chapter five

Katie

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d ruined the mood with Maverick on Sunday night. One minute, we were talking. And the next thing I knew, I was grinding in his lap shamelessly, with his hand up my shirt.

At first, it had been intimidating to sit there and feel…everything. The ridge of his cock growing harder beneath me with every passing second and the rumbling groan in his chest when I pressed up against his erection at just the right angle. Even though we were both fully clothed, the sexual tension had been so utterly intoxicating that I could barely breathe.

I pinched the bridge of my nose to focus.

Dozens of orders had piled up in my shop over the weekend. I hoped if I stayed busy with all the packing I needed to do, I could distract myself from Maverick.

But my thoughts kept straying back to him anyway.

Why did I have to blurt out my insecurities at the worst possible moment and make everything awkward? Just because it was true didn’t mean I had to bring it up right then.

---