Page 7 of All's Fair in Love & Chaos
A fucking woman. And not just any woman. A fuckingqueen.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing with that?” Her voice cuts through the air like a blade wrapped in velvet, smooth but dripping with rage—there’s no missing the sharp edge to it.
“What’s it look like, protecting myself from you.”
“Does it look like I’m a threat? Put that away,” she says with that sexy-as-hell sass in her tone that makes my dick throb painfully against my zipper.
On the short list of who I was expecting to climb off that bike, the last thing I expected was a fiery vixen with long black hair and an attitude that makes me want to crawl across the gravel and beg at her feet.
“I don’t think so, baby, not after the way you were just riding. Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m not your goddamn baby.”
Oh, I like that way too fucking much.
“No, you’re much too violent to be my baby. You’re like a fucking viper. Dangerous. Lethal.Beautiful.”
“Smooth. Your bullshit work on all the women?” She says the words while placing her hand on her hip, luscious curves jutting out to the side.
“Careful, I might think you’re jealous.”
“Of what? Your tiny cock and your inability to find a clit? I’m good, I fuck myself better than you ever could.”
I can’t help it, I holster my gun and take a step into her space, close enough to inhale her dark scent. Rich, spicy, floral, and fucking delicious. There’s a note of something sweet, and I have the strongest urge to pull her head to the side and run my tongue up the length of her pretty little neck to find out what it is. The wind blows just right, pushing the midnight bangs out of her face, deep-brown eyes squinted and glaring back at me with all the attitude in the world.
“Is that a dare? ’Cause I’d love nothing more than to put you over my lap and spank your ass until your skin blooms red for how reckless you just were. No doubt it’d make your pussy leak all over my jeans.”
Her face pales for a moment before heating, a sexy crimson that spreads across her fair skin. The shade makes the amber in her dark brown eyes pop even further. “You like that visual, huh?” I take a confident step into her space, tracking the fluttering pulse on the side of her neck, her eyes and the way they get heavy. Her chest rises harder, a soft swell of her breasts behind the thick leather of her jacket. Fuck, she looks hot inleather. But I bet she’d look better naked, with her wet cunt over my mouth.
“I’d make you squirm and scream until you were begging for it,” I taunt. “Your pussy clenching to be filled, desperate, wanton, with only one thing on your mind.” My voice is thick with lust, my own heart pounding as arousal pumps steadily through my veins like a live wire. I haven’t been this turned-on in years. A quick, meaningless fuck from someone at the local bar once in a blue moon is all the action I’ve seen, and none of them were able to work me up like this. And so quickly.
“Then, and only then, I’d fuck your cunt with my fingers, the filthy noises of your wet hole finally getting what it wants filling the room.”
The vixen in front of me bats her beautiful dark eyelashes as she reaches out, trailing her long, dainty fingers down the chest of my leather cut, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. It’s the sexiest fucking thing she could have done, and I’m wondering how the hell I can convince her to bend over her bike so I can spend some time between her warm thighs. I need to taste her. I need to fill her. I need to hear what she sounds like when she comes.
“Yeah, you definitely like the sound of that. You want it rough, baby? I can give you rough.” I close the remaining distance between us, our hips practically flush, but I don’t touch her. Not yet. Bold, brown eyes sparkle up at me, holding so much depth, I lose myself. The air in my lungs evaporates, the electricity and tension between us sparking. The world around me fades, my heart beating at a rapid pace. All that exists is this gorgeous, perfect woman in front of me, dressed in leather and boots and holding her own against a six-foot, two-hundred-pound biker, packing a gun like a fucking queen.
My queen.
The next thing I know, my arm is wrenched behind my back, ripping me from my fantasy as the jingle of cuffs breaks my haze.
“What the fuck?” I snap.
“Camden Young, your reign of fucking terror is over.”
Before she can connect the cuff to my wrist, I flip our positions, propping her ass up in the air as I bend her over the seat of her bike, wrenching both of her wrists behind her back and cranking upward, the cuffs falling to the ground. She lets out a grunt of pain that makes my heart fucking break. The last thing I want to do is hurt this strong-ass woman.My woman. Even if she does know my legal name and is carrying a set of cuffs.
My breath is hot on her skin as I grind out my next words. “To think we could have had so much fun together. Who the fuck are you?”
“Your worst goddamn nightmare.” The heel of her boot stomps down hard against my foot, meeting steel. Her resulting groan is her own damn fault. I quickly kick her legs open as she curses better than some of my men at the clubhouse.
“You’re nothing compared to my nightmares, sweetheart. You don’t know the ghosts that haunt me. So, try again. Who the fuck are you?”
“Fuck you!”
“Fine, looks like we’re goin’ for a little ride, then.”
I yank her upright, her back flush against my chest, her warmth seeping into me as I pull out my phone and call Sin.
