Slow Burns (Blacksteel Bandits Motorcycle Club Book 1) (7 page)

He mentally groaned. Of course she wasn't going to make this easy on him. She didn't want him to leave as much as he didn't want to leave. Even if she didn't know how close the end was. Spurred by exasperation, Tyler crossed the room. He pinned Miranda against the desk as his hands curled around her shoulders. He stooped down, his lips close to her ear as he growled, “Why are you making this so hard, Mir?”

“Isn't that my usual effect on you, Ty?” She returned, her voice becoming a husky, throat rasp. The words raked along his spine and settled in his groin. Eagerness swelled in her thoughts. She really shouldn't encourage that heated look in his eyes, but she couldn't help it. She got onto her tiptoes, the smirk still present on her lips as she whispered into his ear, “What're you going to do about it?”

Yes, that was the usual effect she had on him. His fingers tightened against her shoulders. Now, she goaded his actions. She wanted him. Tyler could smell the thick pheromones in the air and his resolution trembled.

“Be careful what you ask for, Mir.”

“Oh?” That single syllable, laced with amusement and goading, drove his desires home. He turned her around and bent her over the desk. Miranda staggered, her heels a safety hazard on the carpet. Tyler wasted no time in hiking up her skirt and running his fingers across the crotch of her panties.

Her fingers curled around the edge of her desk. Excitement throbbed through her and her breathing had already hitched slightly. She shouldn't be this excited. She should be horrified at the prospect of sex at work while on the clock. The vixen in her, the one that had reawakened with Tyler's return, didn't care, though. Delight sifted through her thoughts and her nerves fizzled with pleasure.

With a flick of his wrist, a tearing sound echoed through the air. Miranda inhaled, sharply, as her fingernails dug into her desk. He had
torn
her panties off. Cool, air-conditioned air kissed her ass just before Tyler's warm palms groped her ass. Miranda swallowed her whimper. She arched her back, feeling his body heat behind her.

His fingers slid into her folds, coating the digits in her moisture. Her swollen nub throbbed as his fingers swirled slowly around it. Miranda muffled her mewl of delight, her hips rocking against his ministrations. Tyler capped his own moan as his cock strained against his jeans.

Testing Miranda's sensitivity, he managed to gently pinch her nub. A harsh tremor rollicked through her body, a rough gasp escaped through clenched teeth. The brief pleasure echoed through her body, stinging and enjoyable. Under her breath, Miranda hissed, “Fuck.”

His lips twisted into a grin. His fingers clasped around her nub, giving it a gentle squeeze and a minute twist. Again, her body quivered and her breathing came out harsh. She eased when his fingers slide away from her clit. Searing shudders still licked down her body as his fingers caressed her slit.

Suddenly, Tyler thrust his fingers into her pulsing pussy. A loud moan escaped Miranda's lips before his hand slapped across her mouth. Her eyes widened, face hot and red as he pounded into her with his fingers.

Miranda whimpered against his palm. The scent of motor oil and dirt and sweat coated his hand, but she enjoyed it. It was masculine and sexy. She imagined his fingerprints leaving telltale signs on her face and people knowing what happened in her office. Her stomach flipped in delight and the tingles increased tenfold as she moaned into Tyler's hand.

Just as Miranda felt the razor's edge of release coming on, his fingers pulled out. She swallowed down her disappointed whimper. Her hips rocked back and forth, as if trying to locate his missing digits. Tyler chuckled and stepped back. The bubble of heat and hormones between them popped. Miranda pushed herself into an upright position, tugging her skirt down to recover her modesty.

When she spun on her heel, Tyler's grin split across his face. In his hand, her panties dangled. As he pocketed her undergarments, he said, “For being troublesome, I hope you enjoy going commando.”

Miranda's face flared with a blush. Her fingers curled into fists, but she was at a total loss for words. Mortification and pleasure entwined in her lower stomach, along with a pinch of frustration. Her toes curled in her shoes and her pussy throbbed in need.

“I'll see you tonight around six,” Tyler laughed, beating a hasty retreat. The blush that colored Miranda's face looked about ready to explode. He didn't want to risk being found out. She wasn't a woman who took pleasure quietly. Excitement jolted through his body at the very prospect of her moans, whimpers, and mewls. As he imagined them, his internal temperature rose.

It was a short-lived heat wave. As soon as he crossed the threshold from Miranda's office into the lobby, a chill settled in the air. Either the Groves were paying too much for AC or his presence was still unwelcome. Cheekily, Tyler waved to the quiet tellers, who watched him with wary eyes. Only the blonde that Jack took a liking to smiled and waved back.

Tyler stored that fact at the back of his head as he made his way for the exit. Jack was going to be pissed at the delay. Tyler couldn't find the energy to be ashamed, though. Tonight, he was getting hot wings and Miranda. Two tasty treats for a long, strenuous road ahead.

A brief flit of guilt flew through Tyler. He should at least tell her before he left. She deserved that much, even if his looming departure was obvious. Tyler sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shoving the thoughts away. He could worry about that later when he was on her doorstep.

CHAPTER NINE

“
What do you mean, you've gone to seen her again?
” The words nearly shrieked from Tyler's prepaid cellphone. He held it a good three inches away from his ear as Jack reamed into him. He anticipated this reaction. Jack had good reason to be annoyed and angry. Tyler had avoided telling Jack his dinner plans. Part of him felt bad, but another part of him keened in excitement. Miranda and hot wings. It was a fantasy that both his dick and his stomach could get behind.

“I can't talk. I'm here,” replied Tyler. He rapped quickly on Miranda's door as he bid farewell to Jack. His friend was snarling and shouting cusses as he clicked the
hang up
button. Within seconds of his knock, the door swung open.

The heavenly spicy scent of buffalo hot wings tinged the air in Miranda's apartment and spilled into the hallway. Tyler's stomach clenched eagerly as soon as he stepped into her abode.

Miranda shut the door loudly behind him and the sound of the lock cleaved the quiet air. He turned, eyebrows raised. The woman radiated a serious air, but his eyes wandered. In a tank top and daisy dukes, she made his mouth water.

“Before we eat, you have some business to take care of,” muttered Miranda as he kicked off his boots. Her pussy throbbed as she spoke. Ever since he left her in her office, her whole body ached with unsatisfied desire. Miranda had struggled through the workday, mind foggy with need. The only thing she could concentrate on was Tyler's damned hot wings.

He listed his head to the side, a good-humored smile twitched at his lips. “What?”

“On your knees,” Miranda demanded as she pointed to the floor. Those three words sent a blast of hormones shuddering through Tyler's veins. The corners of his lips tilted upward in a gleeful grin. Miranda's cheeks pinked, but her body ached for a release.

“Oh, I see, you're still jonesing to come, eh?” Tyler smirked, leaning closer to Miranda. Her serious gaze never dallied from his. The glint in her eyes crackled through his blood and sunk into his bones. There had been plenty times that same expression had been used. Each time was seared into his memory. “Well, you chose the setting last time. Now, it's my turn.”

Without waiting for Miranda to open her mouth, Tyler's hand shot out. He grasped her wrist and tugged her through the living room. She already knew where they were heading long before Tyler slid the glass door open. He stepped out onto the balcony, a pleased grin on his face. She hesitated, her eyes locked to the threshold line.

Something solidified in her thoughts, though, and her gaze flickered to Tyler as she stepped onto the balcony. Goosebumps skittered over her skin, the cold night stretched around her. Sudden uncertainties touched her thoughts. What if a cop idled through the parking lot? What if someone saw them? Various sounds pounded across her suddenly alert ears. Overhead, bats keened. Down below, people talked and muttered. Somewhere, in another building, music blared loudly.

Despite the taste of uncertainty in her head, Miranda couldn't ignore the thrill. Nor could she ignore the shit-eating grin on Tyler's face. Her blush deepened as she glared at him. There was no way she was backing down. She sauntered across the balcony and leaned back against the railing. On the clear night air, she caught every slam of a car door and every giggle of her neighbors. Her heart thrummed harder as he sunk to his knees.

Tyler knelt before Miranda, watching her expression carefully. She refused to look at him, which was all the better. Anyone peeping her would be suspicious if her gaze lingered on anything in front of her. His fingers went to her shorts, undoing the button and zipper. The daisy dukes slid down her hips and her ample thighs, revealing her commando pussy.

Still swollen from excitement, Tyler almost felt bad for leaving her hanging. Almost. He nudged her legs further apart and leaned to her thigh. Kissing up her leg, Tyler could feel Miranda tense under his lips. Her toes curled while she felt her sex pulse in heady need. Her nails dug into the railing of the balcony, waiting for his lips to trail a little bit more northward.

Her wait wasn't in vain. Tyler's tongue licked across her pussy before he caught her clit. With the gentlest of touches, he suckled and toyed her sensitive nub with his tongue. Miranda bit her lip as she swallowed down her groans of delight. Her muscles twitched and her core melted. Prickles and tingles rode up and down her body, exploding from the same focal point. Her breathing hitched and she felt like melting into the boards. Somewhere, a dog barked in the parking lot and someone masculine whooped. Her thighs clenched, both in terror and pleasure, and she resisted the urge to press her hand to Tyler's head.

His lips curled into a smile against her pussy. Heat coiled around his head and moved to his groin. His pants tightened with every muted moan and twitch Miranda gave him. In some ways, this was eons better than his desired hot wings. Miranda's musk enveloped him, driving his thoughts crazy. Stirred up hormones buzzed through his head. Her sex clenched, tighter and tighter, around his tongue as he delved into her.

Very slightly, Miranda's breathing hitched hard. She panted quietly while staring at nothing off into the distance. Her thighs began to tremble. Her fingernails dug into the railing. Heat and pressure slammed against her barriers, demanding release. Her fuzzy pink thoughts turned hot and red. Satisfaction crested over her edge.

She gasped, a moan tearing from her lips. She slapped a hand over her mouth and doubled over Tyler, her hand clenching at the back of his head. Her fingers dug into his scalp, pressing him flush to her quivering pussy. Tyler groaned against her quavering pussy, the taste of her coating his tongue. As she uncoiled from around him, he realized he still felt her heat. Intoxicated on everything about her, he leaned back and took a deep breath of cold evening air.

Glancing up at her told Tyler everything he needed to know: She was completely satisfied. But, as her eyes flickered to his face, he knew it was only a temporary contentment. Heat and desire flamed behind her eyes. As he replaced the shorts on her hips, Tyler couldn't help his teasing inquiry, “Now, where are my hot wings, woman?”

* * *

The dishes clinked as Tyler washed the plates. He hummed quietly, his stomach satisfied while Miranda leered at his back. A flush clawed up his face and it wasn't a side effect of the spicy wings. At the back of his mind, the whole situation felt like a dream. Over the years away from Legacy, he had always imagined what their life would have been like if he had never left. Domestic and boring, maybe. However, that meant being happy and safe. Tyler wasn't sure if he'd trade his experience for a lifetime of normalcy. At that moment, it didn't seem so bad.

A sharpness ached in his heart. Miranda wouldn't have met her full potential and would have been stuck in the gutter with him. She deserved better than that. Sure, Tyler hadn't done so badly. He was alive, at least. Though, he couldn't imagine what Miranda thought as she watched him.

Mostly amusement bubbled in her thoughts. Watching the redheaded smart aleck biker washing dishes was something out of a comedy skit. She rested in her chair, elbows on the table and chin propped in her hand. The crest on his back glared at her. She traced over the steel-plated skull – and the calligraphic 'Blacksteel Bandits' that sandwiched the image – with a curious eye. Motorcycle clubs weren't always lawless, but she wondered. Especially with Tyler's inevitable departure looming on the horizon, Miranda's mind couldn't help her assumptions. He had always been a troublemaker, snubbing his nose at authority and rules. He bent and broke so many rules, showing her how life didn't necessarily shatter with the loss of strictness.

Finally, the water ceased flowing and Tyler turned, wiping his wet hands on his pants. Miranda smiled, his embarrassed blush tickling at her hormones. She voiced her gratitude as he approached the table, “Thanks for doing the dishes.”

“Well, you whipped up those hot wings.” He shrugged, though he could tell she spotted his pinked cheeks. “Fair's fair.”

“I only made them so you'd come over,” admitted Miranda. In fact, she had rushed to the store after work and gathered the ingredients.

“Mmm, you don't need to do that much to get little ole me over here.” He grinned, fully sincere. She really didn't have to do much. At first, her inquiry alone tempted him. The hot wings were just an extremely good bargaining tool on her part.

“Is that so?” Miranda's eyebrows jumped up her forehead. Something warm glittered behind her gaze and tingles shot down Tyler's spine. She slid her chair out from under the table and stood. Her movements were precise and languid as she pushed her chair back in place. Suddenly, she reminded him of a jaguar ready to pounce. “So, you would've come over if I simply called?”

“Well, yeah,” Tyler muttered, though he suddenly held his reservations. Jack's dissent might have kept him from seeing Miranda again. He had to admit that to himself. However, part of Tyler knew his partner held nothing over her. His restraint may have put up more of a fight without the thought of hot wings to lure him in.

Miranda leaned farther, her eyes narrowed. Tyler's gaze flickered to her cleavage on full display. Just beneath her shirt, a red bra peeked out. Her tone dropped to a sultry purr, “Care to prove it?”

“How?” Tyler dragged his gaze from her ample bosom. His fingers twitched, eager to touch the soft and supple flesh of her tits. His erection bobbed in his pants, eager to return to business. His mouth became dry and his throat tightened. Worries swung around the back of his mind.

“Wait until I call.” Miranda grinned and stepped away form the table. She left the kitchen, swaying her hips. She didn't glance back at Tyler. Down the short hallway, she disappeared. Tyler waited. The kitchen clock ticked loudly as a minute, two, five passed by. Heat seared down his throat and his lungs ached. Electricity frazzled his nerves and his ears strained to hear her voice.

Finally, Miranda called from her bedroom. “Tyler? Would you come here?”

Indignity and desire suddenly raked over Tyler's synapses. She flagrantly toyed with him. Women tripped over themselves to get his attention. And he knew Miranda ached for him just as badly. Yet, somehow, she managed to pull together her seductive wits and sensually taunt him. From food to the clothes she wore to the gazes she pinned against him. It made a hot shiver pierce his spine. She had matured over the years and, somehow, perfected her sensuality.

Grudgingly, he tromped toward her bedroom.

It was amazing how different a room could look only after a few hours. That morning, before he left, the room had been a mess of sheets and slightly yellow in the morning sunrise.

The blinds were drawn against the inky sky and lamplight. Everything was bathed in warm, natural firelight from candles placed at intervals around the room. The stray clothes had been picked up and the sheets had been straightened. Beneath the scent of the aromatic, cinnamon apple candles, Tyler could still detect the leftover musk of sex. Satisfaction swelled in his thoughts just before his gaze fell on Miranda.

She lounged back on the bed in a completely different outfit from last time. Semi-transparent black fabric gave her no modesty. The top of the garment tightly cupped her breasts and her nipples noticeably strained against the fabric that nipped tightly beneath her bust, then loosely drifted down her abdomen to just below the black panties. His gaze dropped farther, to her long, shapely legs

Miranda smiled, exuding the air of a coquette as she breathed a laugh. His gaze shot to her face where her green eyes burned with desire.

“Where-where'd you get that?” Tyler almost bit his traitorous, stuttering tongue. He sounded like an innocent, inexperienced schoolboy. His gaze dipped back down over her body and he wondered how the fabric could make her look so delectable.

“It was a birthday gift, one year.” Miranda rolled her eyes and snorted, “From Naomi, of all people.”

A dark bitterness swept over his thoughts. “So, other dudes have seen this.”

“No, I didn't feel I was my style.” Miranda gave a halfhearted shrug, but peered at Tyler through her lowered lashes.

“But now you do?” His eyebrows furrowed, but a slight hope took root in his thoughts.

“I feel different around you, I guess.” Miranda glanced away, both shy and coy. Her hand drifted to her throat, stroking it out of nervous habit. The motion just made Tyler want to kiss and nibble on her neck more. Her green eyes flickered to his face, as if his thoughts were clearly transmitted through the air. Her voice slipped to a huskier, deeper tone as she added, “And I like it.”