Page List


Font:  

“Hold the fuck still,” I commanded, securing her wrist to the gear shift. It was a temporary fix for an increasingly frustrating situation.

A sigh heaved from my chest as I jumped out of the cab and walked around to the other side. She was still frantically trying to escape, fighting the containment of the zip tie and kicking at me. A few solid blows pummeled my chest before one hit me in the face.

“For fuck’s sake,” I growled, grabbing the backs of her thighs and pinning her body with mine. She wiggled again, but this time, she felt the hard flesh of my cock poking against her ass when she bounced it off me. Immediately, she stopped moving, panting as she turned over her shoulder to stare at me in disbelief. Heat rose to the surface of my cheeks, and I barked out the only thing I could think to say.

“Turn the fuck around.”

Birdie didn’t listen, but then again, she never did, and it irritated me to no end. I grabbed a mass of blond curls and dragged them over her face so she couldn’t look back at me, but she still had one arm free, and she used it to quickly untangle the hair in her vision.

I didn’t even know why we were fighting over this. She’d felt my dick against her, and I couldn’t deny it. It was the most ridiculous situation I’d ever been in, her ass hanging over the side of my truck while I held her down with my body. She smelled so fucking good. Sweet like the summer wind in my face when I was flying down the road at eighty miles per hour. That was how she made me feel too, and right now, I hated her for it. The flawless, honey-kissed skin of her thighs peeked up at me from beneath her shorts, tempting me in a way nothing had ever tempted me before.

I was uptight, and I was irritated as fuck. And frankly, I didn’t know what to do with her now. Reaching into my pocket, I dragged out a few more zip ties.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she snarled. “Who carries those around in their pocket? Hello, serial killer.”

I ignored her and focused on securing her ankles together, but she fought me every step of the way. Just when I thought I was close, she’d yank her leg away and make me start from scratch again.

“Goddammit.” I squeezed the back of her thighs with my palms. “Quit fucking moving.”

“Or what?” she taunted. “What are you going to do about it, you big dumb biker?”

That was it. I’d fucking had it. I knew I was losing my cool, but I couldn’t help it. My palm thundered down against the jeans-covered cheek of her ass, hoping to bring her to her senses. But instead, she just looked at me in disbelief, and then she started laughing.

“Oh, that hurts so much.” She mocked me with her eyes. “Are you showing me who’s boss now?”

A growl erupted from my throat, and without a second thought, I yanked her shorts down and bared her soft ass cheeks. She sucked in a breath, and this time, there was no laughter when my palm collided directly with the round globe.

“Ouch,” she hissed.

I didn’t stop there. I should have, but I liked something about that giant red paw print I’d left. I fucking liked it, and I wanted to leave more of them.

“Are you going to behave now?” I peppered each cheek with another slap between the words until her ass was so red it would hurt to sit down.

“All right!” she belted out. “Fine, you fucking savage. You can stop now.”

For a minute, I just stood there, chest heaving as my eyes moved over the round curves of her ass covered with my marks. If I thought my dick was hard before, it was barely tolerable now. Because as much as Birdie wanted to prove how little this affected her, I could see the glistening crevice of her pink pussy peeking out from between her thighs. She was wet for me. So fucking wet I could smell the sweet honey of her arousal.

I had an urge to pry her thighs apart and bury my face so deep in that pussy I couldn’t see the light of day. An image of her riding my beard and grinding her hips on my tongue made my mouth water. I hadn’t felt a need like this before. It was primal. Animalistic. And it was going to be a goddamned problem.

“Fuck you,” I murmured as I pulled up her shorts and finished securing the tie around her ankles.

“Fuck you too,” she shot back.

She wasn’t looking at me anymore, but her face was mottled with red, and I didn’t know if it was anger or embarrassment. Regardless, it didn’t matter. She’d learned her lesson. The first of many. And I hoped she’d think twice about pulling shit like that again.


Tags: A. Zavarelli Sin City Salvation Romance