Page 36 of The Girlfriend's Guide to Dating a Biker
Bending, I rinsed and finished up. Jake kept his hands on my hips and when I straightened, he turned me to face him. My back hit the bathroom counter as his hands came up to frame my face.
“Much better,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “Now I can do this.”
My brain lagged two beats behind his words, then caught up just in time for his mouth to claim mine.
Mint. Heat. Him.
His kiss started gentle, lips brushing mine softly. The second I leaned into him though, he abandoned gentle like it had been a terrible idea all along. His mouth claimed mine, hot and hungry, and holy god yes okay right yes please keep going, my willpower has left the chat, DO NOT STOP.
I grabbed his shirt because I needed something to hold on to, and apparently that was the signal for him to lose every scrap of gentleman restraint he had. His hand fisted in my hair, tilting me exactly how he wanted, while the other locked on my waist, anchoring me against him. Possessive. Rough. Unapologetic. My entire body responded like it had been waiting for this exact programming update.
When I moaned, he groaned like I’d just gifted him life itself. His hips pressed into mine, and oh. Oh. There was no mistaking the hard length straining against his boxer briefs. Every nerve ending I owned lit up like they’d just been wired directly into him.
His hands slid beneath my sleep shirt, hot palms skimming over bare skin with zero hesitation. Greedy and thorough. When his hand closed around my breast, I gasped and arched like a shameless offering, and my brain wrote a new law on the spot: every woman deserves to be manhandled like this at least once.
He pinched, kneaded, circled, and my hips betrayed me completely, rolling into him with reckless hunger. His mouth swallowed every sound I made. And then he hoisted me onto the counter like I weighed nothing, spreading my thighs so he could step between them, and oh god, the new angle. The feel of him against my core. A shameless sound broke from both of us in perfect harmony like some kind of unholy sex duet.
His grip on my ass tightened, pulling me into him with the kind of big-dick energy that came with a hazard rating, grinding us together until my head tipped back and stars exploded across the inside of my eyelids.
My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, desperate for more. He kissed me with everything—mouth, tongue, body, soul—and my brain was just screaming moremoremore.
When he finally tore his mouth from mine, we were both breathless, foreheads pressed together. His voice was shredded when he rasped, “Fuck, darlin’, you’ve got no idea what you do to me.”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. All I had was the taste of him on my lips and the ache of wanting more.
Jake chuckled, low and sinful, raking a hand through his already-wrecked hair. He looked torn between choices. Exhaling hard, he muttered, “We need coffee.”
Coffee??? My body was literally chanting dick like a Gregorian monk and this man said coffee.
“Sweetheart, I’m seconds away from bending you over this counter and not stopping. And I don’t wanna rush this.”
And just like that, he left me sitting on a bathroom counter, pulse scrambled, thighs trembling, trying not to scream: sir, I would like to rush.
I slid off the counter on legs that were one hard blink away from collapsing. Jake grabbed his jeans on the way to the kitchen and followed me out. Meanwhile, I was busy trying to return myself to the functional adult I was supposed to be.
I made him coffee while he rested his ass against my kitchen counter and watched. Having his eyes so focused on me caused my intelligence to forget it was even a thing.
First, I tried to pour milk into my coffee machine’s water tank. Then, I nearly scooped sugar into the grinder. My entire system was malfunctioning under the weight of Jake watching me like I was the main event instead of a girl in sleep shorts making bad life choices before her first shot of caffeine for the day.
“Darlin’,” he drawled, amused, “are you always this dangerous around appliances?”
“I swear I’m usually better at this,” I muttered. “Feel free to take over.”
He didn’t move. Just leaned harder into my counter, arms crossed, eyes fixed on me with that kind of lazy dominance that somehow made me clumsier.
“Not a chance,” he said. “I like watching.”
“You’re not exactly helping.” Heat flared everywhere in my body when I looked at him and found his eyes glued to my ass.
“I am helping.” He met my gaze and gave me a sexy smirk. “Just not in the way you think. You look good flustered.”
Holy God. The things this man said to me. And the way he watched me unapologetically, not even bothering to hide the lust in his eyes. I’d never known a man like him, never known what it felt like to be wanted so openly. And I was beginning to wonder if I’d survive him.
I focused way too hard on making the coffee, as if getting every detail of this task exactly right could cover up my awkwardness. My hands shook anyway, and I nearly sloshed coffee everywhere. Smooth. So smooth.
Jake was instantly by my side, steadying the coffee mug and taking it from me.
“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to be perfect for me.”
