Hell for Leather (Black Knights Inc. #6)(74)

“Whoa there.” He held up a hand. “Slow your roll, darlin’. We need to talk about this.”

“I’m all talked out today,” she told him, stalking him across the room. “And, besides, this will kill two birds with one stone.”

He lifted a brow.

“It’ll scratch that itch you were talking about earlier. And it’ll help me take my mind off my uncle.”

“But—”

She grabbed his forearm and yanked him forward. “Shh.” She placed a finger over his lips, shivering when his hot breath moistened her skin. “I’m handing you the golden ticket, Mac. Giving you the keys to the kingdom with no strings attached. Are you really going to stand here arguing with me?”

His big chest rose on a shaky breath. “No strings?” he asked around her finger.

“None.”

“No hurt feelings afterward?”

“None,” she promised, ignoring the little voice when it gleefully sing-songed liar, liar, liiiiar…





Chapter Nineteen


Mac knew Delilah was still talking. He could see her lips moving. But, for the life of him, he couldn’t make out her words. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, fast and fierce and…unimaginably hungry.

The golden ticket. That’s what she called it. But it was more than that. It was the golden ticket, a get-out-of-jail-free card, and a royal flush all rolled into one. Everything he’d never dared to hope for but simultaneously fantasized about. Delilah. His for the taking. With no strings attached. With no chance of heartbreak for…either of them.

He wished he could say he hesitated a moment, really thought about it, weighed all the pros and cons. But he didn’t. In fact, the only thing he thought was git along little doggies. Or, in his case, git it on little doggie. Yeehaw!

He grabbed her around the waist and pushed her across the carpet. Lifting her atop the dresser, he slammed his mouth over hers. And that was it. They went from neutral to overdrive in two seconds flat.

The instant their lips met, their tongues clashed and fought for supremacy, his stroking hers, hers tangling with his. Her hands were everywhere, running over his shoulders, knotting in his hair, grabbing his ass. It was like being caught up in storm. He could feel the crack of electricity that was in the air, highlighting the raw, untamed power of it all. The pleasure was searing, seething, all-consuming.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if he should apply the brakes. At this rate, it was going to be over in minutes. Hot, hard, fast sex atop the Noel Motel’s dresser. Fuckin’-A. But, really, who was he trying to kid? Stopping wasn’t an option. Not when he’d already grabbed the hem of her T-shirt, whipped it over her head and tossed it over his shoulder. Not when he was already cupping her plump, beautiful breast and lifting it, running his thumb over the beaded nipple before ducking his chin to suck it into his mouth.

“God, you taste good,” he moaned, dragging the smell of her in deep, reveling in the delicateness of her skin against his lips. Her nipple was a hard button pressing against his tongue. He stabbed at it and was rewarded with her groan of pleasure.

“Oh, yes, Mac,” she sighed, tossing her head back, hooking her heels beneath his butt in order to rub herself over his raging length. He could feel her through the silk of her panties. Feel how hot she was. How wet. His cock pulsed behind his zipper, begging to be set free, pleading to sink into her soft, sultry depths.

A hundred emotions slammed through him. Joy. Passion. Fear…

Because being here, locked in her embrace reminded him of something. Of what it was like to be…home. But at the same time, he was lost. Lost in the feel of her hands. In the heated wetness of her mouth when she grabbed his face and dragged him up for a ravishing kiss.

She opened her lips wide to the bold press of his tongue. But no matter how hard he pulled her against him or how strongly she grasped him to her, it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t close enough. He wanted to dissolve into her softness and warmth. Wanted to lose himself in her completely. And, holy crow, he couldn’t recall anything ever being this hot. This fast. This…crazy.

He knew the bargain she’d struck with him was doomed. Once wasn’t going to be enough. Not nearly enough. But he’d have to think about that, deal with that, later. For now? There was Delilah. Delilah with her warm, lush breasts. Delilah with her fast, feverish kisses. Delilah with her tempestuous, demanding hands…

She pulled his T-shirt over his head and flung it aside, her breath catching at the back of her throat as her eyes drank him in. And that look right there was enough to make a man think he could leap tall buildings in a single bound.

“Holy crap,” she whispered almost reverently as she ran her hands over his chest, gently tracing the Texas tattoo over his heart. Then her fingers slid down his belly, causing his muscles to quiver and clench beneath her fingers. Delilah didn’t have smooth, delicate hands. No. They were firm, slightly rough. The hands of a woman who’d spent her life twisting off bottle tops and washing pint glasses behind a bar. But the rest of her… Dear Lord, the rest of her was ungodly soft. “You’re beautiful, Mac.”

His lips quirked as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her pink, satin panties, the fabric silky against his fingers. He pulled back just enough to slide them down her long, lovely legs, past her delicate, red-tipped toes.