Born to Ride: A Biker Erotic Romance (Blue Mustangs MC) (4 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

He stood and watched her from the club doorway. She was a million miles away, picking at the food on her plate. Every now and then she’d smile or frown. He’d love to know what she was thinking about. “Sorry I’m late.”

She couldn’t stop a squeal. “I swear you live for scaring me.” He looked too good in a tight black t-shirt and equally tight black jeans. His hair was wet and slicked back.

He chuckled. “No, but it’s a bonus prize.” He moved closer and she hastily turned over a sheet of paper so he couldn’t see it.
Her sketch, no doubt. “I went home to shower. I didn’t think you’d appreciate the smell of thirty-weight motor oil and sweat.”

Moving in close, she sniffed him. “You smell pretty good, but I don’t mind the smell of man and motors.” She winked at him cheekily. “I’m really glad you came.” She reached past him to flip the sign on the door to ‘occupied,’ then closed it.

“I wouldn’t miss the chance to have your hands all over me again.” Christian pulled his shirt over his head, looking around for a place to put it in the small space. He spied a hook on the back of the door and put the shirt there. “Where do you want me, boss?”

Ignoring the heat pooling in certain areas of her body, Sandy pulled out a shave kit and tore it open, pulling the gloves on. “Up on the table, arm over your head.”

“I like it when you get all professional.” Smiling, he hopped up on the table and lifted his arm high. “I’m pretty sure shaving my side is going to be the highlight of your day, but anything exciting happen while I was out fighting wild carburetors?”

“Not much,” she replied, smiling at his joke. “I did two tats today. A recolor and the cutest little butterfly ever on a Towner. She loved it.” She smoothed cream onto his side from right under his armpit to his waist and from side to side, trying to ignore
whose
skin she was stroking.

The rasp of the razor seemed loud to him in the small room. “So, two tattoos must not’ve taken long. What else did you do today?” He had to keep talking, needing serious distraction from everything about her. She smelled too good. Sweet tea, tart lemon, and spice.

Done with the razor, she tossed the pack in the trash along with the gloves. “I went apartment hunting.”

That shocked him. “You’re moving out of Atticus’ house?” Maybe Daddy didn’t have as much of a hold as he thought.

“I had actually planned to have a place ready for when I came home, but those plans fell through. So, I’m starting over with the search for a place.” She filled a small tray with a couple of colors, got out a new needle and a new pair of gloves. “I love my Daddy, but I don’t want to be living in my old bedroom all my life.”

“How did the search go?”

“Lay down on your side, please, arm above your head. No peeking.” She waited for him to get comfortable before checking the positioning and applying the transfer. “I found a place and I have plenty saved up for the deposit, first and last. I’m balking because I wonder if there’s a better spot that I haven’t seen yet.”

She turned the machine on with a click of a foot pedal and leaned over him to whisper in his ear. “Christian, this is going to take a good long time. Think you can handle it?”

He turned his head enough to see her face, her smile a bit on the evil side. “Bring it on, pretty girl.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

There was no doubt in his mind that she was purposely trying to drive him insane. The sting of the needles did nothing to help take away the raging hard-on behind his fly.

It was a million little things. The dirty jokes she told to try and distract him. How she laughed when he let loose with a string of the foulest curse words he could think of when she hit a bad spot, then blew on his skin to try and make it feel better.

It was the brush of her hair against his lower back, then his stomach, as she worked. It was the fact that she didn’t have a bra on, and her positioning sometimes gave him a good look at the flesh he’d had in his hands last night.

She wasn’t unaware of him. Hard nipples tipped those perfect breasts. When her skin touched his she caught her breath. Heat radiated off her, and it wasn’t because of the sultry temperature outside.

They’d talked about everything and nothing. Favorite foods and television shows, their love of art, and what they’d been like as kids. He told her about his first ride and his first wipeout. She told him about fights at school and growing up surrounded by big, bad bikers.

Hours went by, and the music in the club house got louder and louder as people drank their Friday night away. She was pushing the four hour mark when she finished the last of the shading. “You doing okay?”

“That last bit was rough, but I’m good. How much longer?” He shifted, uncomfortable and wanting to get up and stretch.

“I’m done.” She put out a hand when he went to stand. “Stop. I need to clean you up and get some ointment on there before you look at it.”

He groaned. “So bossy.”

“Mmm hmm, and I’m pretty sure you like it.” She got some wet paper towels and began to gently clean away the ink left on his skin. “You’re tough. The ribs are a bad spot to ink. You didn’t complain—much.” She got the ointment out and began to smear a light layer on.

“Since I was such a good boy, can I please look now?”

Nerves were suddenly eating her alive. What if he hated it? “Go ahead.” She followed him to the large mirror attached to the wall, leaning against it as if she wasn’t scared as hell.

For a second he was worried. He’d put a lot of trust in someone he really didn’t know. What if he hated it? Turning and raising his arm he took his first look and was stunned into silence.

It was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. His skin looked like it had been ripped and slashed open, underneath were gears, wires and engine parts. Behind all that was a blue glow that seemed alive. “Are you kidding me with this?”

Her heart sank. “I’m sorry. I thought that it really fit you.”

His head whipped around towards her. “What the hell are you sorry for? This is—it’s beyond awesome! It looks alive, like you can see into my insides.”

Relief flooded her system, and she watched as he moved closer and closer to the mirror to check out every tiny detail. “Usually when I design custom tattoos I have an idea of what to work off of from the client. They have ideas, and I work with them or tell them it won’t work and guide them towards something that fits them more. I designed yours off of what I knew about you, which wasn’t much.” She smiled at his reflection.

“I’d say you knew more than I thought you did. I have one question: why the blue? I’d have thought red for the insides, like blood.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of what she’d created on his skin.

There was a moment when she thought about not answering. If he noticed the slight balk he didn’t comment on it. “I made it red in the sketch. When you think of fire, of passion, you think of red. Then you got here and I saw blue. When you look into the fire and it’s burning really hot, what do you see? Blue. The flames burn blue. Blue is supposed to be a calming color, a cool color, but under the right circumstances, blue is hotter than all the others.”

He watched her watching him in the mirror. He wasn’t as good with words as she was. Arguing he could do, and yelling was easy, but expressing his emotions wasn’t high on his list of accomplishments. So, he did what he did best. Moving in too fast for her to protest, he took her mouth with his and said with his lips what he couldn’t say with his voice.

When he’d moved in she’d expected his kiss to be rough, hard and passionate, like he was. She was blown away by his gentleness, a softness that he hadn’t shown her before. While she’d really enjoyed the wildness of him from the night before, this Christian melted her insides and made her knees weak.

Not thinking about what she was doing, she reached out to wrap her arms around his waist and scraped her arm across his fresh ink. His indrawn breath was loud, and she immediately pulled away. “I’m sorry. I need to cover that up.”

“Don’t run away again, pretty girl.” He leaned back, and his skin made contact with the cool glass of the mirror.

Her back to him, she gathered up the supplies she needed to cover his art. When she came back to him there was a sly smile on her face. “I’m not running away, Christian. I’m bandaging you up, then you’re going to take me home with you.”

His breath caught. “Well, what the hell are you waiting on? Get to bandaging, woman.”

CHAPTER NINE

From his office, he had heard every word of their conversation. It was why he’d let her have that space in the back of the bar. If Mariah or Sandy ever found out there’d be hell to pay, but it was worth the risk.

Their conversation had been innocent enough until the end. He was no fool. He’d thought his daughter would be able to see through the little game Christian was playing, but he’d been wrong. She was falling for his little ploy hook, line and sinker.

He was going to have to move up the time frame on his plan.

*****

Christian put his shirt back on once the bandage was securely in place and tossed her helmet at her. There was no way he was going to risk giving her time to change her mind.

“Anxious much?” She shot him a teasing look over her shoulder while she locked up.

He butted right up against her back and pulled her hair to one side, letting his breath rush over her neck. “You have no idea.”

The helmet dropped to the floor with a thud as her knees threatened to give out once more. She slapped her palms flat on the door to keep herself upright when he nipped at her earlobe. God, he was too much.

Turning, Sandy reached up and wove her arms around Christian’s neck, pulling his mouth to hers, nothing gentle about it. She took and he let her take, holding onto her waist tightly. She ended the kiss with a short, sharp bite of her teeth on his bottom lip. “Take me home.”

*****

Being on the back of his bike with his hands occupied gave Sandy an unique opportunity to play the bad girl with no mind-numbing interference from Christian.

His back was an open expanse of flesh for her to explore. Her hands under his shirt, she traced every inch of skin, avoiding the area where he was bandaged. Trailing her nails down the bones of his spine made his muscles flex, then stiffen. She liked the response so much she did it again, then traced the same path with her tongue.

When she peeked up, his knuckles were bright white around the handles of his bike and his jaw was tight. It was pure evil to continue to tease him, but the devil on her shoulder just laughed and laughed.

Carefully, she trailed her fingers across the sides of his waist and then up over hard abs to his chest. His nipples were hard and she couldn’t resist a light pinch or two. Her fingers traced the path of hair that led from the center of his chest to the waistband of his jeans. When the devil egged her on, she undid the buckle of his belt, his stomach caving in when she slid two fingers underneath his jeans, grazing the very tip of his erection.

So engrossed in teasing him, Sandy didn’t notice when they slowed and pulled into the drive of a modest sized house. The garage door opened and Christian came to a stop, barely getting the bike turned off and stabilized before yanking her around to sit on his lap, facing him. He attacked her lips, kissing, sucking and biting them until she was breathless and scratching at his shoulders with those nails.

With her thighs spread across his, he couldn’t resist rocking the hardness behind his zipper against the seam of her shorts. He had them both gasping in seconds. Leaning Sandy back, Christian hooked her arms around the handlebars of the bike and pulled the thin shirt she was wearing up and over her breasts. They were flushed, dark pink at the tips, and begging for attention.

Nothing had ever felt as good as Christian’s mouth on her nipples. A tight pull, a short lick, and then a small but sharp bite had her moaning loudly. His hands were all over her stomach and sides, gliding over skin that was quickly becoming slick with sweat. Refusing to lay passive, she reached down to the hem of his shirt and yanked up sharply. He withdrew his attentive mouth long enough to pull the garment over his head and toss it to the floor.

Frantic to have her hands on him the way he had on her, Sandy ran her hands over every inch of exposed flesh. His skin was hot against her palms, rough with hair and sensitive. Every stroke made his stomach twitch. He groaned and pulled her forward until their chests were pressed tightly together and he could claim her mouth again.

There wasn’t much room to maneuver on the bike, but she somehow managed to get her hands between them to work open the buttons on his jeans. She could feel the rumbling in Christian’s chest as she slid her hand down his cock and wrapped her fingers around the base, squeezing lightly.

Leaning her back once more, Christian popped the button on her shorts and began pulling at them. When they stuck, she laughed. The laughter stopped when he got them down and realized she didn’t have on any panties. The look on his face was too much, too needy. All teasing over, she found a way to get the shorts and her boots off.

Christian planted his feet on the floor, pulled out the condom he’d stashed in his pocket and handed it to her. There was no going back this time. Sandy palmed the foil packet and waited while he wiggled his jeans and boxers down a few inches, trying not to laugh again at the frustration wrinkling his brow.

Tearing the packet open, Sandy took her time rolling the latex over the hard shaft pulsing under her fingers. Her mouth went dry at the feel of him, while other parts of her were wet and ready.

He leaned back and her chest tightened at the sight of the long, strong lines of his body. If she weren’t so desperate to have him inside her, the logistics might have been a nightmare. Placing her hands behind her on the handlebars, she pushed up while he slid underneath her. Her thighs came up and over Christian’s. Holding himself firmly in hand, he lined the head of his cock up against the heat of her opening.

Sandy slid down slowly, letting her body adjust to his size. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until he sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her down the last inch and making her gasp.

Movement on the bike was limited, but neither complained. The gentle rocking motion, his hands tight on her hips so that he could go deeper, was more than enough stimulation.

Christian was in awe. There had been lots of other women. Lots of hot one night stands that had made him walk funny the next day. Nothing compared to this. It wasn’t the place, despite the fact that it was a fantasy come true to find a woman who’d fuck him on his bike, it was
her.
The way she sighed and moaned, the way she held on to him and trusted him. It was the sparkle of wildness and fun in her eyes.

Ready to make her scream, Christian pushed her until her back touched the tank, stood and began to fuck her the way he wanted, hard and deep. She’d gone from holding him to raking her nails down his chest and muttering his name over and over.

He hit all the right spots, thumb riding her clit, and sent her screaming into orgasm. So tight and so hot, she was pulling him along with her. Usually he’d pull out, even with a condom, but he couldn’t do it this time. No, this time Christian seated himself deep and let the fear go. His legs trembled hard as he came.