Page 60 of Waging War
“You know, if you’re going to put on the bad-boy persona, you’ve got to at leastpretendto like motorcycles.”
I unwind my arms from around her, narrowing my gaze. “It’s not a persona.”
Swinging one leg off, Hazel wiggles around so she’s straddling the bike backward, facing me. She hooks both legs over my thighs and pulls the edges of my jacket between her hands before crawling her fingers, tip by tip, up the center of my chest.
“Ah, the male ego is so terrifyingly fragile.”
Reaching for her legs, I drag her the last few inches so that her core presses against me. My hands glide over the curve of her hips to that sweet ass, and I give a punishing squeeze. “My ego’s not fragile, woman. You’re just ruthless.”
I smother the smile on her lips with mine, keeping my feet firmly planted on either side of her bike. I’d been prepared for her to withdraw after our earlier conversation, but now, Hazel blinks up at me with an enchanting curiosity, and a spark turns those wheels in her clever mind while she tries to sort me out.
I ache for this intimacy I’ve denied myself for so long, and I find that even against my better judgment, I don’t want her to stop trying to figure me out.
Exposing her neck to me, she relaxes back and pushes her tits up toward my mouth. I nuzzle them without hesitation.
“Mm. These may be my favorite thing about you.”
The vibration of her chuckle tickles my jaw as I lick and suck her exposed cleavage. When her hands weave their way into my hair to deliver a tug, I growl. “Not enough.”
I want to spread Hazel apart and devour every delicious inch of her.
Pulling back a moment, I lean around Hazel to assess how likely it is that we could fuck on this Harley. Deciding it’s worth a try, I reach for the top of her pants.
“That’s not going to happen.” She smirks, grabbing my wrist as she watches my mind spinning. “But if you’re a good boy, I just might let you bend me over her.”
The thrill of doing just that shocks me into action.
“Being bad is much more fun,” I say, gripping her legs as I swing mine off her precious toy.
She screeches as I spin her so she’s facing away from me.
“Put your hands on the seat.”
She huffs nervously. “Wait, I was joking! It’s forty damn degrees out here, Benjamin.”
I reach for her hair and quickly wrap the length around my hand and wrist. Pulling her head back makes it a little harder for her to talk back to me, but her eager panting has me trailing a hand over her exposed throat.
“Do as I say and place your hands on the leather.Now.”
It’s like she takes her time just to spite me, gifting me a haughty, “Yes, sir.”
Just like all the little things about her I find endearing, her disobedience amuses me.
“There we go.” I play with the top of her pants before slowly rolling them down toward her ankles. A growl builds in my chest. “Good girl. Now spread your legs for me.”
She does as I ask and leans forward, giving me a glorious display.
“Christ,” I mutter once I’m squatting behind her. I reach up to cup her and she hisses. “Don’t move those hands.”
“This isn’t fair,” she groans.
“It’s plenty fair. I’m just giving you a little payback for last night,” I say dangerously close to that smooth pink heat of hers.
“Ben, I swear to G—” She stops midsentence when I spread her legs wider and dive into her. “Oh.”
The earthy scents around us and the chill in the air heighten each sensation that much more. Only in the late hours of the night did I ever let myself imagine this. Her enticing taste, or the way her velvet-soft skin would slide across my tongue as I helped her body prepare for me. She’s a feast better than I had ever imagined, and I savor the unique flavor ofher.
I’m able to take my time for about three seconds before she’s bucking wildly against me.
