Ruthless (3 page)

“Oh God,” I whimpered.

“Nope. Not God, princess. Just Zag.”

I had to laugh at his arrogance. But my giggle ended in a gasp when he gave my other nipple the same nipping flick. I pushed my fingers into his hair and tried to pull him closer.

But he wasn't having any of that.

Rather than follow my urging hands, he pulled away and went to work on my skin-tight jeans. Although frustrated that I wasn't getting my way, a secret thrill ran through me. I'd never been with such a masculine, take-control kind of man. It was hot.

I pushed up my hips so he could pull my jeans down my legs. The sound of coins ricocheting filled the room as he threw my pants over his shoulder. But I didn't care. All I cared about was the red-hot man towering over me with his intense eyes glinting in the moonlight.

His rough palm slid across my tummy, then ran down the outside of my panties. His soft, masculine laughter echoed around us. “Someone's a little bit excited.”

He ran a finger over the center of my panties. I twisted into his hand as a frustrated mewl left me. I wanted more. I was sick of all his teasing. Just fuck me already!

But still he ignored my not-so-subtle urging. His fingers continued his slow surface caresses, skimming my skin and underwear with those blunt, callused fingers. It was sexy and frustrating all at once.

“Zag? Please,” I finally moaned.

He chuckled again. “Impatient, princess? Has it been a while?”

It actually had, but I wasn't going to admit that. Now was not the time to confess my horrendous dating history. I was so aroused, and I really didn't want to scare away such a deliciously willing man. Although I was beginning to question the willing part. He was moving so torturously slow.

“It's been a reasonable amount of time,” I muttered even as I arched into his hand.

“Hmmm.” He traced the seam of my pussy through my panties. By now they were embarrassingly wet and his finger glided over the surface. “Why don't I believe you?”

Because I'm wet and horny as hell?
I bit back my smart-ass reply and laced my fingers through his hair.

For once he obliged me and leaned down at my urging. But he stopped short of touching his lips to mine and murmured, “Maybe I'm in the mood to make you beg.”

Oh dear god. I closed my eyes with a groan.

He chuckled as he changed direction and mouthed my still-covered nipple. The material of my bra muted the sensation and I could only moan and bend closer. I wanted to feel the tug of his mouth on my skin—the slide of his tongue—anything but this maddening tease. His long hair brushed the curve of my breast and I shivered. After a few more teasing passes, he pulled my bra cup down. The straps fell down my arms, limiting my mobility, and I could only grip his arms as he finally took my bare nipple in his mouth.

He sucked and pulled, enveloping it, and I felt an answering pang from between my thighs. The stubble on his face rubbed harshly against my breast, making this much more sensual. After a few moments he let go and blew on the moistened tip, and I shuddered. Even as a wave of goose bumps erupted on my body, I arched up and pleaded with him.

“More. Please? Oh God, don't stop.”

“Mmmmm,” he whispered. “I thought we agreed you'd call me Zag.” He moved to the other nipple and raked it with his teeth. His hot breath puffed on my breast as he spoke. “And if you think that's begging, you ain't seen nothing yet.”

While he oh-so-deliciously tortured my nipples, one hand wandered south and slid into my panties. His fingers teased the seam of my pussy, dancing around but never quite touching my clit. Frustrated, I tried to guide his hand by angling my body, but his growl stopped me.

“Do. Not. Move.”

His scary, rumbly voice had me frozen in place.

“We take this at my pace or not at all. Understand?”

Unable to form a word, I nodded. As scary as he was acting, my sex fluttered. It was official. I was twisted. Fuck, he was so hot. I would never let another guy talk to me like that, but something about him—about how I felt when I was with him—made me more than willing. Hell, I was excited.

See above. Twisted.

“I didn't hear you,” he growled.

“Y-y-yes,” I stuttered. “I understand.”

“I don't know that I can believe you.” He roughly unhooked my bra and tore it from my body with a harsh jerk—the elastic straps rasping against my naked arms. Grabbing my wrists, he pinned them over my head with one of his hands. I wiggled in his grasp. Or tried to; I couldn't move very far at all. I was trapped.

A rush of fear swept over me. I didn't know this guy from Adam. Had I made a mistake? Was he any better than my asshole of a date from earlier? A hiccupping breath left me. Whether it was from the memory of the parking lot or the rush of fear from Zag's strength, I didn't know. My brain was a jumble of thoughts and fear.

“Sshhh, princess. Everything's fine. If you want anything to stop, tell me, okay?” He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine in a sweet kiss. “But until then, don't move a fucking muscle.”

“Okay,” I whispered. I felt both comforted and nervous. And still so turned on.

His mouth went back to teasing my now throbbing nipples as his right hand slid inside my panties. But this time he gently parted my folds and ran a finger softly over my clit. My body bucked at the contact—at least, as much as possible, since he still had ahold of my hands in his tight grip.

He continued tormenting me, taking turns first flicking my nipple with his tongue, then my clit with his callused finger. After a few passes he sucked my nipple deep into his mouth while he teased my pussy with two thrusting fingers—almost but not quite penetrating the depths. Finally he returned to my clit, lightly circling it.

He kept up a steady pace. Circle, circle, flick. Circle, circle, flick. By the fifth flick I could feel my orgasm approaching. All my muscles tensed up in preparation, and seconds later, I broke. My body shook as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me. Even as my orgasm quaked, he continued his teasing administrations.

Unable to handle his touch anymore, I rolled away as far as his grip on my wrists would allow.

Honestly, given his bossy nature, I was vaguely surprised he'd let me move that far. But I hardly had the brain power to reflect—I was too preoccupied by the aftershocks rocking me.

I was hazily aware of him shifting on the bed. I heard a drawer open and close and a second later he was there again. He let go of my wrists, then roughly rolled me back and took my lips in a harsh, quick kiss. His mouth moved over mine. My now free hand burrowed into his hair, holding him; I wanted more of his kiss. More of him.

Then I heard a rip and felt him tug away the scrap of material that had once been my panties.

If it were possible, I got wetter. Something about the sound of the ripping material and his harsh kiss called out to the primal woman inside me.

It was scary and exciting and so fucking sexy.

Then he was inside me. His tongue in my mouth and his cock deep inside me. He was big and thick and everywhere. I felt a little cheated that I hadn't had the opportunity to explore him with my mouth and hands. But there was always later.

Aftershocks still shuddered through my body from my first orgasm, leaving me so sensitized that the smallest movement of his hips had me seeing stars.

He broke our kiss with a sexy groan. “Nothing fucking better. God, you're hot, princess. Red-hot and burning me up.”

His thrusts built up speed and the sparks from my earlier orgasm melded into one hot, throbbing erogenous zone. It wouldn't take much more to push me over the edge.

Zag reached down and flicked my clit with his thumb.

That was it. For the second time that night, I broke. My fingernails raked down his back while my pussy quaked around his thrusting cock.

“Damn, princess.” He grunted. “I just—I can't—”

With a hoarse shout, he stopped thrusting and ground his pelvis into mine. His arms quivered next to my head. He dropped his forehead on mine and sighed heavily.

Mint. And whiskey.

Now I had another amazing memory to associate with his scent.

“You and your insatiable pussy could've killed me.” He rolled over with a grunt. “But what a fucking great way to go.”

I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult, so I stayed quiet. Besides, I wasn't capable of speech at that moment. My body still shuddered every few seconds with aftershocks.

After a minute he got up from the bed and disappeared into what I assumed was the adjoining bathroom, judging from the sound of running water. I'd never gotten the full tour, after all.

I stared at the ceiling and marveled at the length of my last orgasm. With most men a small one was a stretch. Either they needed a map to find my clit or thought it was a magical button they only needed to push once. Very few I'd been with understood the mechanics of the female orgasm and didn't care to learn. For once I wouldn't have to go home and finish all by myself. Apparently I'd been dating the wrong kind of men.

After a few more moments with just me and my thoughts, I wondered if he was lingering in the bathroom so that I'd get the hint and leave already. I really liked the postcoital cuddle, but then most men didn't. And the whole “It's time to go” convo was bound to be awkward. I'd rather leave with my happy orgasm glow than the pall of getting thrown out.

I sat on the end of the bed and peered through the darkness for my bra or shirt. Where did he throw them? I knew better than to look for my panties since they now were just a scrap of fabric. Although maybe I wanted to keep them as a souvenir—my first walk on the wild side. I could have them framed or something.

Spying my blouse hanging from the edge of his dresser, I grabbed it and was trying to figure out which end was up when I heard him.

“Yeah. Fine. Whatever. I gotta go.” His cell beeped with the end of his call and he tossed the phone on the dresser. “What's going on here?”

“I-I-I, uh, I was just gonna—”

“Go? Did you think we were done?”

He wanted more—of me? Tonight? My knees went weak at the thought. I wasn't sure I had the ability to go another round with him. “I, um, weren't we? I mean, I came twice. You came. I've heard that this is usually the part where someone leaves, and since it's your house…”

“No fucking way. I'm not done with you by a long shot. Now get your shapely little ass back in bed.”

Resisting the urge to salute him—barely—I clambered back into his bed. What girl would pass up another mind-blowing session with this man? Not me. I couldn't hold back the huge smile that swept across my face.

“I gotta make a few calls since I'm going to be tied up here with you.”

I nodded and snuggled down into the pillow. Looked like I'd have to wait a bit for either my cuddle or our next round. I wasn't sure which I was looking forward to more.

Oh, who was I kidding? I couldn't wait for more of that amazing sex.

I fell asleep thinking naughty thoughts and waiting for him to come back.

He woke me twice before morning. The first time he took me hard and fast. I was barely awake when the first orgasm slammed through me. I had two more before I collapsed into a boneless husk and passed out again.

Then, in the early morning hours, he slowly and sweetly made love to me. He explored every inch of my body and I his. I finally got to trace the web of scars on his shoulders with my tongue and studied his amazing cock up close and personal with both my hands and mouth.

The next morning I woke up alone in his bed.

J
UNE 7

The ringing of my cell woke me. I opened my eyes and gazed blearily around the room as I tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Finding my phone two inches away from my nose, I snatched it up and punched at the screen. I just wanted that annoying sound to stop.

“Whaaat?” I groaned.

“Oh my god, Jess! Where are you? Are you all right? What the hell were you thinking?”

“Nic?” I coughed, then cleared my froggy throat. “What the hell? It's too early for this shit.”

“Too early?
Too early!
You were on a date with a respectable lawyer and went home with a biker. Then you turned your freaking phone off! What's wrong with you?”

I had to hold my cell away from my head at that last part. Needless to say, Nic was pissed. But I needed a couple hours and a few cups of coffee before I was anything near coherent this early in the morning. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and tried to focus. What the heck was Nic ranting about?

“Can we talk later? I'm not even awake yet.”

“Oh my god, Jess. No! Where are you? I know you're not home.”

“Ugh, hold on a sec.” I pushed the hair off my forehead and sat up with a sigh. I could still hear Nic ranting away, but now that my cell was at my side her screeching wasn't so loud. I rubbed my bleary eyes and stared at a completely unfamiliar room.

Where the hell was I? The sparse furnishings and the overall messy room weren't familiar. It was definitely a man's room, but whose? My eyes landed on the Harley sticker on the side of a dresser, and it all came back to me. The restaurant…Captain Douchebag…Zag.

Zag
.

Oh crap.

Was he sitting out in his living room impatiently waiting for me to leave? We hadn't talked about what this thing between us meant. Hell, we hadn't said much at all outside of dirty talk. My cheeks heated with the memory of the things I'd said. This was so not the norm for me. Was it for Zag? Given the way he knew my body, I kinda thought so. He probably played with a different woman every night. Which meant this thing between us that had been so special to me probably wasn't to him. I deflated at the thought. And now I was going have to do the walk of shame in front of him.

Then I remembered—my car was still sitting in the restaurant's parking lot. I was stranded. Double dammit.

“Jess. Jessica!”

I snapped to attention at Nic's tiny voice still screeching from my cell. I grabbed it and held it up to my ear. “Yeah. I'm still here.”

“She says she's still there,” Nic muttered to herself. “Glad to know you weren't killed and left in a Dumpster in the middle of the night. What the hell were you thinking?”

That he was sexy as hell and even better in bed than I thought. That I foolishly thought he might be
the one
. I bit my sarcastic reply back. I still needed a ride after all. But some of my snarkiness still slipped through. “Yes,
Mom
. It was foolish. I wasn't thinking. You're right. Hey, can you come pick me up?”

I slipped the last in there all sly-like, hoping she'd be distracted by my agreeable nature and automatically say yes before she'd processed what I said.

“You need a ride? Where the hell is your car?”

Guess not.

I got up from the bed with a groan and began digging for my clothes. Where the heck did Zag toss them last night? Spying my jeans on top of a pile of clothes, I snagged them, then pulled them on.

“My car should be sitting in the Vine's parking lot. Can you pick me up and drive me over there?”

“Oh my god, Jess. How could you be so stupid? Why didn't you take your own car at the very least if you had to go home with a biker?”

Rolling my eyes, I set my phone to speaker mode and pulled my bra off the top of the dresser. I tossed my cell onto the bed so I had both hands free as I wrangled my bra on. “Do you want the real answer or for me to say something that'll make you happier?”

“Make me happy.”

“Um…” Finding my sparkly top on the floor halfway into the hall, I grabbed it and pulled it over my head. Make her happy? I hadn't expected her to pick that option. Somehow I had the feeling nothing I could say right now would please her. “My car wouldn't start and I needed a ride?”

“Next time call Triple A.”

So, not happy then. “I don't know what you want me to say. Are you going to pick me up or do I need to call a cab?”

“Dammit, Jess.”

I waited impatiently for her answer. Right now I didn't know if I wanted a ride home with her anyhow. I really wasn't in the mood for another lecture and I could tell Nic wasn't anywhere near done yet.

“Fine, I'll pick you up. Where are you?”

Where was I? I looked around the unfamiliar room again like the answer would be emblazoned on his dresser. Shockingly, it wasn't. Great, I guess I needed to venture out of the bedroom eventually.

“Hold on a second.”

“
Hold on?
Do you even know where you are?”

Biting back my smart-ass reply, I dropped my arm to my side and stepped out into the hall. “Hello?”

Silence met my soft call. I was pretty sure Nic's yelling from my phone was louder than me. I tried again a little louder. “Hello?”

Still nothing.

I walked down the hallway and into the living room. Empty. Okay, maybe no one was here after all. Looking around the room for an idea of where exactly I was, I spied a pile of junk mail on the table addressed to “Current Resident.” Snatching up the nearest one, I rattled off the address. “I'm at 1520 West Eleventh Street.”

“Eleventh? What the hell are you doing on
that
side of town?”

“Having sex with a hot biker. What do you think? Will you just get over here?”

Nic huffed. “Yeah. Fine. Whatever. I'll be there in twenty. Just…don't do anything stupid in the meantime.”

“Apparently my ‘something stupid' left so I'm good there—no danger of sleeping with the biker again. Just come get me.”

“Fine. Bye.”

“Bye,” I replied but she'd already hung up.

I looked around the empty room, feeling a little awkward. I was alone in a stranger's house. I mean we weren't totally strangers; he knew I liked to drink beer and I'd spent a good portion of last night tracing his scars and tattoos with my tongue. But we didn't know anything really important about each other. Hell, I didn't even know his real first name.

Zag. I seriously doubted that was the name his mother gave him.

Not that it mattered last night.

Last night had nothing to do with talking or learning about each other at all. Wham, bam, thank you, scary biker dude. Rinse and repeat.

Heh. We repeated more than three times last night. Or at least I did. Another huge grin swept across my face.

I probably shouldn't be grinning like a fool when Nic showed up. I didn't want to give her any more ammunition.

But I had at least fifteen minutes before she arrived. What should I do with them? Search for my panties? I walked back to his bedroom and looked around in disbelief. Something about digging through the mess on the floor really didn't appeal to me. Maybe it was the huge mass of clothes scattered everywhere or the pile of greasy rags in the corner. I took a quick glance but something told me it wouldn't be easy to find the scrap of material in all this.

With a sigh I left the room and went back down the hall to the front room and decided to look for my purse. Hopefully it was here in the living room. If I had to hunt through that pile in his bedroom for my bag I might go insane.

Where the heck did I leave it last night?

I scanned the living room, taking in the worn leather couches and the obvious grease stains on the carpet. Was this what passed for biker chic? He had a few framed beer and motorcycle posters on the wall and one large group photograph. I took a few steps closer to see the picture better.

The photo had at least twenty bikers, all clad in leathers and grouped around one huge motorcycle. Zag stood on the edge of the crowd, his arm around another large and heavily tattooed man. Both were grinning ear to ear.

My lips curved at the sight. He looked so happy and carefree. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed he was capable of such a relaxed and easygoing expression. Lord knew he was all things intense last night.

Finally spotting my purse on the arm of the sofa near the door, I walked over and grabbed it.

Wait, if my purse was in the living room, why was my phone on the bed next to me this morning? I quickly thumbed through my phone's apps but didn't see anything strange. All the numbers on my recently called and calls received lists were familiar. What the heck was going on?

I pawed through my purse but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary there, either. All my credit cards and the spare twenty in my wallet were accounted for. Weird.

I jumped when the cell in my hand vibrated. A beat later, the notes of Kelly Clarkson's latest song rang out. My thumb flicked over the screen and I answered.

“Hey, Nic.”

I walked over to the door and fumbled with the ridiculous number of deadbolts barring my exit.

“I'm out front. Hurry up before he comes back.”

“Holy shit. It's not like I'm running away from an ax murderer.” Although judging from the number of locks he had, that might not have been much of a stretch. Who puts six deadbolts on their door anyhow? A feeling of unease swept over me. Just who had I slept with last night? “He's a good guy.”

At this point I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince myself or her of that fact.

“Whatever. Just get your ass out here.”

After unlocking the last deadbolt, I opened the door and stepped through. Finally, I could breathe. And no crazy maniac jumped out to stop me. Shaking my head at the silly thoughts Nic had given me, I twisted the one lock I could set and shut the door behind me.

I waved at Nic sitting in the driver's seat of her little Camry, stuffed my phone into my purse, and walked over.

Of course I couldn't help it if my eyes slid over to inspect the empty driveway. Zag's bike was long gone. There was only a black tire streak in the driveway to mark the spot it'd been parked in last night. So he really did leave me all alone in his house this morning. I wasn't sure if I felt relieved or abandoned. Relieved that we didn't have to do the awkward morning-after dance. And abandoned because—well…that bit was obvious.

I debated for a second if I should've left him a note or something to let him know that I'd enjoyed last night, but I wasn't sure what to leave. And given the way he'd left without a word, I didn't think it'd be welcomed. A small part of me shriveled with the knowledge that I most likely wouldn't see him again. Apparently I'd been wrong. That amazing magnetism I'd felt between us hadn't been mutual.

I slid into the passenger seat of Nic's car and tried not to think about my tangled feelings. As soon as I saw Nic's eyes, I knew I had a lot more than my silly feelings to worry about.

“I'm not going to say it,” Nic sniped as she pulled the car away from the curb.

Thank God. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the headrest. If she wasn't going to harp about it, I wasn't going to bait her. Maybe we could spend the whole ride with only her silent judgment filling the air. For once her car wasn't vibrating with her crazy love of all things hard rock. Lord knew if it was the other way around I'd be doing the same, too.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Then again, maybe not.

“You don't know what happened last night, Nic. I don't want to hear it.”

“I don't know what happened last night because someone sent me a cryptic text and then turned their phone off. What was I supposed to think?”

It didn't help that she had a point. We told each other everything, but for some reason I really wanted to keep this one thing to myself. What I'd had with Zag last night had been amazing, and something that I don't think Nic would understand. She was as bad as my mom when it came to men—appearance and impressions mattered. At the end of the night he was still a scary biker and that was that. Neither of them would understand why I'd want to spend the night with a big, bad biker no matter how sexy he was. Honestly, at this point I wasn't sure if I understood it myself, either.

“I'm sorry, Nic. I didn't mean to make you worry. I just wanted someone to know where I was and who I was with in case—”

“In case something happened to you? Because it's stupid to disappear with a random stranger regardless of the fact that he's a member of a biker gang?”

“You know you can be a real bitch sometimes, Nic. Don't even start with me. I'm not gonna sit here if you're going to preach at me. You don't know what happened last night. You don't know what happened with ‘the respectable lawyer.' Did it ever occur to you that Zag was actually the better guy? He saved me last night. If it weren't for him—” My voice strangled and I couldn't finish. The thought of Charlie's hands on me last night had bile tickling the back of my throat. Tears sheened my vision but I blinked them away. He wasn't worth another second of my time, let alone a single tear. “You don't know, Nic. So maybe next time ask before you start laying into me.”

Nicole's eyes darted between me and the road, and her brow wrinkled in concern. “Crap, I'm sorry, hon. I just—” She shook her head. “I'm sorry. What happened? Do you want to talk about it? Do we need to go to the hospital? Or the police?”

“No, nothing like that. But it might have ended differently if not for Zag. So can we cut the sanctimonious bullshit? It's not like you haven't had a one-night stand.”

Nic bit her lip and tilted her head. “I never had a one-night stand with a biker,” she murmured snarkily under her breath.