His arms slid around her and he pulled her close—so close, his erection ground against her hips in a pleasure-pain that almost sent him over the edge. “You make me feel calm, grounded. You make me laugh. You have courage, strength, and determination like no one I have ever met. You let nothing stand in the way of what you want. You frustrate the hell out me, and irritate me beyond belief. You aren’t afraid to challenge me, but you have the political savvy to know when not to do it. You’re a kick-ass mechanic, a fine shooter, and a hell of a pool player. And the sass that comes out of your mouth…”
Arianne blushed. “I thought you were going to say you liked my tits or my ass. You are a biker, after all.”
He cupped her soft breast in his palm and bit back a groan. “I like all of you, sweetheart: your curves, your beautiful face, your smile, and especially your hair.” He twined his hand through her silken waves and tugged her head back, baring her throat to his hungry mouth.
She moaned, arched under his touch, rocking against him until he thought he’d go mad if he couldn’t get under her clothes, touch her, feel her against him, around him. God, he wanted her so badly, he fucking ached everywhere, inside and out. He’d never known want like this, lust driving him out of his mind.
“I want you,” she whispered. “I want this. Not because I’m yours, but because you’re mine. Even if it’s just for tonight.”
He didn’t want to hear about “just tonight.” He wanted to hear that she cared about him, that she trusted him to protect her, and that she wanted to stay. But later. Because goddamnit, after hearing she wanted him, if he didn’t have her now, he would explode.
With his free hand he unclipped her bra and shoved up her clothes, baring her to his sight. A whimper escaped her lips as he tugged harder on her hair, pulling her head back making her arch for him, offering up her breasts for his licking pleasure.
A door slammed. Laughter carried through a window. Jagger growled low in his throat. “We’d better stop.”
*
Stop? No stop. Bad stop. Whether it was the remnants of fear that something had happened to him, or the pent-up frustration of being denied, she wanted him so badly she burned inside. Leaning closer, brushing her lips over his, she murmured, “I thought I made myself clear. I want you. Here. Now.”
He hesitated then cupped her breast and ran his thumb over her nipple. “Then stop talking, ’cause I’m going to take that sweet mouth of yours, and then I’m going to give you what you want.”
She tilted her head and looked up into his eyes, as dark and stormy as the ocean. “My Jagger’s back.”
“I never left.”
Arianne laughed and reached for her shirt, then paused. “What if someone comes out?”
“I’ll shoot them.”
“So romantic. I’ve always wanted to have sex on a porch with a man who said he’d shoot anyone who interrupts us.”
A fierce groan broke from his chest. “This isn’t about romance. It’s about me putting my hands, my mouth, and my cock everywhere on or in your beautiful body and fucking you until I’m so deep you forget your own name.”
“You sure know how to make a girl wet.” She tongued his ear, delighting when his entire body tensed and his arms became steel cords around her. “You know what would make me wetter? My hands. My mouth. Your cock.”
A raw, guttural groan tore from his throat. “Sweetheart, do not—and I repeat, do not—dirty talk me, because, Christ, I won’t be able to hold back.”
A thrill of fear shot through her veins, but she didn’t heed the warning in the rapid beat of the pulse in his throat, or the demanding kisses that scattered her thoughts. Intoxicated by his scent of leather and soap, the promise of hard muscles rippling beneath his thin cotton T-shirt, she slid her hands around his waist and lifted his shirt, her fingers tracing over the taut lines and ridges of his magnificent torso.
Muscles wracked, he shuddered beneath her touch, but when her thumbs brushed over his nipples, Jagger ripped the shirt and cut over his head.
“Fuck.” He buried his face in her neck and his hoarse exhalations fanned her desire.
“Yes.” She smoothed her hands over his rock-hard biceps, her body heating at the raw power simmering beneath his skin. “Here. Now. On the porch. In the dark. Where anyone could see us. And I want to hear more things you’re going to do to me. I want to hear more things that make me wet.”
Jagger’s muscles tensed beneath her palms and he rasped out his words. “Not slow and easy. Not this time. Need you too much. Gonna rip off your clothes, pull you onto my lap, go deep and hard, and watch you ride me until you’re begging to come.”
Arousal streamed through her veins like molten lava. She boldly slid her hand over his fly and stroked along the steel of his erection. “I like that talk. Maybe you should have a reward.”
He didn’t lose control. Instead, he took it, crushing her to him, his tongue invading her mouth, possessing, demanding, leaving nothing untouched.
“I wanted you from the moment I saw you.” Still holding her head back, he slid his lips over her throat and down to the crescent of her breasts.
“I wanted you when you ran from me.”
She tensed as he cupped her left breast in his palm, and then his mouth, hot, wet, and wicked was on her nipple, and her brain fuzzed with lust.