I grin at my reflection in the mirror, at the dazed green eyes and flushed cheeks and messy dark hair of the woman staring back at me. Then I wipe up the sticky mess between my legs and return to the bedroom, flicking on the light as I enter.Kian is stretched out on the bed with one arm propped behind his head, completely naked. Even in this shitty lighting, he looks gorgeous. His skin is a dark tan color, and the tattoos that arc over his flesh are intricate and beautiful. His cock still hasn’t completely softened, and I let myself stare at it for a moment as Kian stares at me.He seems completely unbothered by me ogling him like a piece of meat, probably because he’s running his hungry gaze over me in pretty much the exact same way. I like the feeling of his attention on me, the way I can feel his gaze tracking up and down my form.I saunter back into the room and crawl onto the bed, but instead of lying down next to him, I crawl up to straddle him, resting my knees on either side
A rush of emotions surge in my chest, matching the flood of pleasure racing through my veins, and combined, it’s all too much. I bury my fingers in his hair and buck beneath him as white-hot pleasure erupts inside me.He lets out a deep groan, pounding into me before burying himself to the hilt. His face drops to my shoulder, and he bites down on the spot low on my neck, sending another jolt of sensation shooting through me.“Mine,” he grinds out, and the word sounds like it comes from the depths of his fucking soul.His.Mine.He knows it too. He felt the same thing I did.Our sweat-slicked skin sticks together as he rests on top of me for a moment, then he slowly pulls out and collapses to the mattress next to me. Breathing hard, I stare at a crack in the ceiling, trying to focus on slowing my heartbeat and getting control of my breaths. Every part of me aches in all the best ways, and that transcendental orgasm still quivers through me in tiny aftershocks.I had no idea sex could b
Present DayMy motorcycle purrs like a tiger beneath me as I lean into a curve on a remote highway, taking the turn a little too quickly. Adrenaline skitters through me, and I laugh out loud when I can sense the road only inches from my leather boots. Danger makes me feel alive, more than anything else has in years, so it’s par for the course for me to take a few chances here and there. Once through the curve, I straighten out on a long stretch of empty road as flat as a board beneath a sunset sky.I like sunset in New Mexico. It’s the only time I see color in this desert country. Everything’s brown—brown mesas, brown dirt, brown rocks, green shrubs that are so dry they’re a hair shy of brown. I miss the green mountains of Montana, the colorful wildflowers, the big blue sky. The sky here isn’t ever brown, but when temps soar into the nineties, into triple digits, the sky turns colorless. Might as well be riding my bike on Mars.I open up the throttle and shoot forward, taking advantage
I pull up to the first motel I see and park my bike near the front door. My knees are wobbly as I slide off the seat, and I pause to stretch my arms and legs. Usually, I try not to be on the road so long, but shit happens.The glass door is so light that a strong breeze could throw it open. I yank it shut behind me, then pass under a flickering light and wrinkle my nose at the very obvious scent of mildew beneath the pungent odor of bleach. Just another run-down hovel clinging to capitalism, like all the dozens of other places I’ve lain my head.“Need a room,?I greet the guy at the front desk.At first glance, I think he’s young. But when he smiles, his eyes fold into laugh lines. His tan is too dark. Not “I spend time outside” dark but “I’m terrified of getting older so I bake in a sun bed every other day to halt my existential crisis” dark. There’s a white line on his left ring finger. Recently divorced, or pretending she doesn’t exist on the off chance he can stick his dick in som
The front door is open to the evening air, spilling the mouthwatering scent of fried food and beer into the lot. I bypass a large group standing around just inside the doors, all of them with glasses in hand, then weave through a sea of high top tables to get to the bar.The bar’s magnificent—dark, heavy wood that’s as aged as a fine wine. The same rich wood lines the wall behind the bar, planks intersected by mirrors and shelves holding rows and rows of liquor. It gives the whole area a kind of rustic, pirate ship feel.I’m not even seated on one of the high-backed stools before the bartender comes to greet me. He’s a tall, lanky man with limbs that seem too stretched for his body and a head full of thick gray hair. His name tag declares him “Joe.” The owner, maybe.He tosses a white rag over his shoulder and gives me a lopsided smile that seems more genuine than I’m used to. “You look like a whiskey girl.”Just the word whiskey sends fury racing through me.It’s an immediate, viscer
Motherfucker.Of all the fucking bars in all the fucking cities in this country, Kian has to walk into this one when I least expect him. I’m three drinks in, filled to the brim with a burger and fries, and half-dead from traveling all day.Things just got really complicated.He’s standing in the doorway, his gaze sweeping the bar for an open table. I’m transported back to Keggers in Montana, watching him walk into my life like a human wrecking ball. Here he is, doing the exact same thing in an obscure hole in the wall in middle-of-nowhere New Mexico like nothing’s changed.Things have changed though. In the three years since I last saw him, he’s gotten harder, both in his face and in his sinewy, muscular body. His hair’s longer with a hint of curl at the tips, like he’s forgotten to get a trim. He still has broad shoulders and an imposing height as he looms in the doorway—a demon in black jeans. He’s got more tattoos, too, swirling up both sides of his neck and down to his wrists on e
Slouching casually against the booth seat, I grip my glass in one hand and go for my best bored voice. “You’re a hard man to find.”Kian raises an eyebrow, then lifts the menu back up to peruse the selections. “You didn’t find me.”I reach out and slam my palm into the laminated paper, knocking it to the table.“What the hell are you?” I snap.He purses his lips for a moment, the first sign of emotion I’ve seen on his face. “I’m a shif—”“Bullshit,” I cut in before he even finishes speaking. “You’re not a shifter. You’re more than that.”Joe appears next to the table and slides my change across the sticky surface. He glances between me and Kian, then raises an eyebrow at me. “You forgot your change.”“Thanks,” I say and peel off a ten for him.With one last suspicious glance between us, Joe leaves us to the rising tension.Kian leans forward, lacing his fingers on the table top. With his elbows out and his chest so fucking broad to begin with, the position makes him loom, makes his bo
He knew what was between us just like I did that night. He knows what he turned his back on.I stare him down, every cell in my body on fire with loathing. Gritting my teeth, I promise myself that I will stop him. No matter what it takes.An explosion of glass and liquid next to our table startles me out of my vengeful thoughts. I jolt away from the splatter of alcohol and turn to find Brandee standing over an entire tray of shattered glasses, her big eyes shiny with unshed tears.“I’m so sorry!” she squeaks. “The glass didn’t hit you, did it? It just slipped right out of my hands! I should have dried them off...”I catch a blur of black out of the corner of my eye and realize Kian’s on the move.“Fuck!” I leap to my feet to follow him.Glass crunches beneath my boots as I run through Brandee’s mess. I slip on a puddle of sharp-smelling alcohol and catch myself on the back of a chair, then launch forward on Kian’s heels. He weaves through the crowd of bar patrons like he’s made of wat