Page 6 of Wild Valentine
My cock hardens at the sight of her plump lips, thinking about all the things I’d like her to do with her mouth.
“I’m here for work.”
I’ve got no idea what kind of work could bring a New York angel to this side of the mountain. I’m about to ask when she takes a sip of her coffee and moans.
She fucking moans, a soft little sound that has my cock twitching in my suddenly too tight jeans.
“That’s good coffee.”
I slide off the stool, because it’s too uncomfortable to keep sitting.
Her eyes follow me as I stand up and widen as she takes in my full height. Yup, I’m a big bastard, and next to me my angel seems tiny. She’s all short and curvy, and even with the killer heels, I tower above her.
She swallows, and her gaze darts away. It comes to rest on the vintage bike on the wall. She walks over to it and I follow with my eyes, enjoying the way her skirt hugs her ass.
She takes in her surroundings, scrutinizing the pictures on the wall and peering at the inscriptions.
“This is the Wild Riders Motorcycle Club Headquarters.”
She states it as fact and I raise my eyebrows, wondering how a girl from New York has heard about our MC.
She leans forward, staring at one of the photos. It’s from a Veteran’s Day ride and we’re straddling our bikes, kitted out in our military gear rather than our MC jackets, ready to hit the road.
“Veterans,” she says softly, like she’s talking to herself.
“That’s right.”
She jumps at the sound of my voice, not aware that I had come up behind her. She spins around, and I’m so close that her breasts brush my chest. She lets out a gasp of surprise but doesn’t step back.
“Sorry I scared you.”
Her eyes are more startling up close. One’s deeper blue than the other, but there’s no denying the dark smudges underneath. My angel has troubles, and I can’t wait to soothe them.
“Why are you here…?”
I don’t even know her name. The woman takes a ragged breath, and her lips part. My eyes dart to them, so plump and sweet and agonizingly close.
“Is the coffee alright? I didn’t know if you wanted it milkier,” Davis calls from the bar. I grit my teeth; the boy’s timing is incredibly poor. The spell is broken, and the woman steps back.
“No. Thank you. It’s perfect as it is.”
She darts back to the bar and retrieves her coffee from the counter. She takes a long sip, determinedly looking forward.
“What’s your name?”
I follow her to the bar and lean my elbows against it. Trying to be causal while this woman has me all twisted up inside.
It’s been a long time since a woman had me in a spin, and that didn’t end well. But I ignore the warning from my brain as my body takes over, making me tongue-tied and hot and hard all at once.
“Hazel,” she says.
“Hazel.” It’s a beautiful name. It suits my angel. “Why are you here, Hazel?”
She sips her coffee and places the mug down slowly.
“I’m looking for someone. Marcus Wild. I heard he’s a member of the MC.”
My name on her lips makes my chest expand and my cock lengthen. My angel is here for me. How could I be so lucky?
