His body has been poised and ready to either fight or fuck since she dropped the bomb about Snubs. A name like that spoke volumes, especially in a one-percenter crew. What the fuck would he be doing sniffing around Joey? She didn’t exactly scream biker bitch material. A part of him wanted to chalk it up to a one-off, but the dude’s insistence on knowing her name bothered him.
Moose needed to be careful how he handled this. If he wronged the Eights and it came back down on Mayhem, Tiny would have his head. The thought of any man putting their hands on his woman as if he had a right to anything she possessed pissed him off. He tightened his grip on the handlebars. He’d have to do his research. It seemed off that the Eights would even be at a club like that.
Shoving the concern to the back of his mind, he approached her home and thought of all the wicked games he planned to play with her body. She’d given him the green light. The act of trust meant something. With the other girls willing to do anything to be seen on the arm of a lord, he never cared. The title he’d been forced to give her had pushed them to a level of intimacy he’d wanted to avoid but was man enough to admit he needed. It settled him. Took the sharpness off an edge he’d been developing. It felt good to have a feminine presence in his life who accepted him as is and understood his lifestyle.
You couldn’t trust many people to watch your back or keep your business to themselves. So far, Joey had done nothing to raise a red flag. He pulled into her driveway, cut the engine and pushed out the kickstand before he stood, dismounted and walked over to the keypad on the side of the garage. How domestic. He punched in the proper sequence, pushed his bike inside, and lowered the door. Grabbing his saddlebags, he entered the house through the garage. They hadn’t been together long, but he had a key. With his odd hours, it was easier. He walked through the dark house, easily maneuvering around the layout in the kitchen, until he came to the stairs.
At the top, he smiled at the line of light visible und
er her door. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight if he had anything to say about it. He strode to the bedroom at the end of the hallway, pushed open the door, and froze.
Joey lay across the bed in lingerie made of tiny pieces of lace that highlighted every curve. The black cups displayed her full breasts, and sheer black lace ran down her abdomen, stopping just above her pelvis as it webbed out. “I’ve been saving this for the right night.” She shrugged.
Moose laughed. “I think you picked the right one, Jo-Jo. We’re going to have so much fun, you and I.”
She licked her lips and shifted in the bed.
“Are you nervous?” Moose asked.
“A little. I’m not…” She cleared her throat. “I haven’t had many beaus, and none of them was anywhere near as—adventurous as you.”
“Because they were idiots or unskilled. A woman like you inspires creativity.” He dropped his saddlebags by the door and walked over to kneel on the floor, running his fingers down her legs.
Joey watched him from beneath her lashes.
“Last chance to say no, Jo-Jo.”
“No, I want it.”
Her automatic response made him smirk. “And you’ll have it.” He leaned back and met her gaze. “We’ll start slow. I don’t want to frighten or overwhelm your senses. If you don’t like something, say ‘red’. You need me to slow down, say ‘yellow’. If you really, really like it.” He massaged the supple skin of her thick thighs. “‘Green’. Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Good. For now, sit there and look pretty. Ever since I saw you nude, I wanted to see you painted in more than my come.”
Joey moaned, rubbing her thighs together.
“I love the way you respond to me. I think you’ll like this, maybe as much as I will.” He removed his hands from her legs, stood, and walked over to his saddlebags, pulling out a lighter and the specialty candles that burned at a lower temperature than regular. The set mirrored the rainbow, ranging from red to a deep blue. He wanted to see them spread across her back in a tangled web of art that brought her pleasure on the edge of pain. A careful balance he would achieve to please her. “Do you know what these are?”
“Candles. Are you trying to set the mood?”
“Funny… No. I want to drip wax all over that beautiful brown skin.”
She opened her mouth and he held out his hand. “They’re made specifically for this, and perfectly safe. Their burn point is lower and I can control the intensity. Because we’re just starting out, I’ll drip from a higher point, which will allow the wax time to cool before it lands.” He set the box on her nightstand and rubbed the smooth metal surface of the flip lighter. “I’m very good. It’s one of my favorite things to do, but I don’t indulge a lot.”
“Why not?” She tiled her head to the side, studying him with those dark pools that saw straight through him like lasers.
“Because this takes trust, and for that to happen, you need to be connected to someone.”
“But you want to try with me?”
Her soft voice loosened another brick on the wall he kept erect to keep himself safe. “I want to do everything with you, to you.” He set the lighter beside the candles and sank down on the bed beside her. “What I want is more than the position of the one in control. I want your surrender.”
Her pulse jumped in her neck. “W-what do you mean?” she said.
“I want you to give yourself to me for safekeeping, mind, body and soul. Know that I will put your wellbeing and needs first, and allow me to push boundaries.”
A flicker of uncertainty appeared in her eyes. “Like the movies?” she asked.