Bomb (Ruin Outlaws MC #1) (8 page)

“I don’t even know you,” I protest. I want to smack myself, what am I doing?

“Cassie,” he says. My name rolls off his tongue with a fire that I am scarcely aware of. “Just relax.”

He slides his cock out of his boxers and I stare at it. I try to imagine it fitting inside me, and the thought just makes me hotter. His eyes narrow and he teases me with the head, before easing himself into me. I brace my legs around his back, catching my ankles on his hips and pulling myself closer to him. He grunts as he goes deeper, and I let out a loud moan. We really shouldn’t be doing this in the living room, but that almost makes it more exciting.

The world fades out and it’s just me and him there. Our eyes are locked on each other, and he slowly starts to rock back and forth. Each inch slips further in me, sending me closer to the edge. Sweat beads on our foreheads, and my feet lock together behind his back. He grunts and growls with each pump, and I throw my back up and try to cool myself. I’m hyperventilating, but the urge is too much to stop. He leans over and cups my breasts, tweaking each of my nipples in cadence with his thrusts. I moan a little louder, but bite my lip and hold it in. A little self-conscious shame slips through, but I manage to push it away.

He’s filling me, not just with his body, but I can taste his soul. He looks larger than life, his muscled arms and tattoos dancing across his skin, every movement making his stomach and eyes twitch with prolonged pleasure.

What’s going on? He’s just some grungy biker guy, but he doesn’t act like one. Something about him has me swept up, and I don’t know if it’s totally healthy.

A rising wave of pleasure overflows through me, and I scream out his name. His grip on me grows tighter, and he pumps faster until I’m nearly yowling. He pushes my legs off him and pulls out, just to finish on my stomach. I sigh, not as annoyed as I thought I would be, and close my eyes. He grunts a few more times as his climax fades, and he pulls his pants back on quickly. I push myself to my feet and step past him to clean up in the bathroom.

After a few minutes of cleaning myself and drying off, the front door clicks open. I drop the towel I’m drying my hands with, and dash out into the living room to see the door latch shut behind him. My eye twitches and I gather up my clothes in a flash, before dressing sloppily. I notice his jacket laying on the couch still, and I snatch it up before running out the front door.

I catch him at the bottom of the stairwell, and he ducks his head when I call after him. “Logan!”

He turns and his eyes meet mine. My heart flutters a little, but my eye twitch is more distracting. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving?”

I shove the vest into his hands and he clutches it, surprised. “You forgot your vest... Bomb.”

He grins a little and slips it on. A twinkle in his eye makes me suspicious, but I ignore it and shake my head. “Just leaving me like that, what kind of man are you?”

“One who isn’t good with goodbyes.” He nods. He reaches for his bike and throws himself on it, hugging the fuel tank. His arms flex as he pulls it upright, and starts the engine. The roar is deafening, and I’m sure my neighbors appreciate the sound. The sunset behind him has faded to a dull, washed out blue, and the complex lights haven’t yet turned on. The air is eerie, but maybe it’s just me. I feel relieved that he’s leaving, but kind of confused too.

I open my mouth, but hesitate to ask if I’ll see him again. He smirks, and with a knowing nod, opens the throttle and dives out of the apartment complex.

I gawk at him as he disappears out onto the main road, the only sound following his departure is the roar of the engine echoing off the eaves. I touch my face, and it's warm to the touch. I'm not mad, but I do feel a bit put off.

Back upstairs, I tidy up the living room and try to make it not smell like a whorehouse. I feel tingly, and relaxed for the first time in a while. At that moment, he was exactly what I needed. I don’t even consider that I might have been exactly what he needed too.

Considering his abrupt departure, I can only compare it to the needy men I dated in college. No awkward and drawn out good-byes or begging to stay. Just a muscle-bound biker, tearing in and out of my life like a whirlwind.

. . .

A one night stand is okay though, and expected of someone my age. But since I last saw him, I can’t stop thinking about him. I wake up in a cold sweat, wondering if he’s outside my front door, waiting for me to let him in again. I hear Mark laugh in Sara’s room, and I only hear Logan, hiding from me with her. I walk through the grocery store, and swear I see a hint of black leather between the aisles. Since he slept with me, I feel like a ticking bomb is about to go off, and my mixture of anxiety and fear are overwhelming. Does his gang know about me? Is it a game to them...? To him?

I have to see him again. Logan isn’t like the other men I’ve been with, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Don’t get attached? How couldn’t I?

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