Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(72)
By the time she reached his chair, his hand was fisted on his thigh, his lips pressed together. Her eyes dropped to his neck, and she watched his pulse throb beneath his skin. What would happen if she took a little lick?
“Hey, baby.” She dropped her hands to her hips and tilted her head to the side. She had never thought of herself as a sexual person, never flirted or played games, and although she liked the way she looked, she’d never considered herself pretty. But the way Jagger’s eyes roved over her, as if there were no one else in the bar, naked hunger in his gaze, made her feel like the sexiest woman in the whole damn world.
“You’re so f*cking hot, I can’t decide if I want to rip that dress off you or f*ck you in it first.” He slid a hand over her hip, pulling her toward him.
“You’re looking pretty fine yourself.” She cupped his jaw, rough with a five-o’clock shadow. “I like this look. Nothing screams ‘badass’ better than bristles.”
He caught her hand and brought her palm to his lips. “You haven’t even seen badass, sweetheart. I’ve been gentle with you so far, but seeing you in that dress and those f*ck-me shoes, I’m thinking I’m done with gentle.” With his free hand on her ass, he pulled her closer, between his spread legs, an entirely possessive move that was clearly meant as a message to every man in the room.
Arianne bit her lip against the arousal raging through her body. “Are you trying to turn me on?”
He traced lazy circles up the inside of her thigh, his fingers delving beneath her dress. Arianne gasped, and a slow, sensual smile spread across his face.” You’re already turned on. Should we see just how wet you are?” He eased her dress up an inch, and Arianne slapped his hand away.
“We’re in public.”
“My people.” He pulled her against him, his fingers digging into her ass. “My bar. My rules. If I wanted to take you over my knee and spank you for making a man so hard he can barely think, no one’s gonna stop me.”
Her nerve endings tingled. The idea of giving up that much control both scared and excited her. “I’ll stop you.”
Jagger stilled, his gaze focused, intent. “No, you won’t. You like that idea.” He shifted in his chair, spreading his legs farther apart. “Jesus. My girl wants to be spanked. And I thought I was hard before.” He caressed her ass, then gave her a pinch. “Tonight.”
The DJ played JT’s “Not a Bad Thing,” and she crooked her finger and took a step back, beckoning him out of the chair, desperate to distract him from the turn of a conversation she wasn’t quite ready to have.
Once she hit the dance floor, she ran her hands down her hips, dancing to the beat, her gaze fixed on him. Although he didn’t move, his eyes followed every sweep of her hands as she caressed her way up her body, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips.
And then he was out of the chair and in front of her—so close, his raw, sensual scent of leather and soap, the heat of his body, and the evidence of his desire filled her with dangerous thoughts.
“We’re leaving.”
“It’s Dawn’s birthday.”
“Now.”
She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his throat, feeling the beat of his pulse on her lips. “One dance.”
He grunted his assent, then wrapped his arms around her and swayed them to the music. She was pressed so hard against him, that she could feel the rigid line of his shaft against her hips, the pounding of his heart against her breasts.
Arianne moved trembling hands over his shoulders, tangling them in his soft, thick hair. “Is this how you dance?”
Jagger jerked her closer, thrusting his knee between her legs, forcing her dress to ride dangerously high. “Sweetheart, this is how I f*ck.”
Arianne softened against him, her nose pressed into the hollow at the base of his throat, her body hyperaware of every stroke of his hands down her back, the press of his thigh against the curve of her sex, the rapid thud of his heart against her chest. “What happens now?”
He twisted his hand in her hair and tugged her head back, his lips scorching a trail along her jaw. “Now, we’re leaving. Soon, I’m gonna f*ck you in that sexy little red dress and those sexy little heels. Later, I’m gonna take them off and you’re gonna kneel in front of me and show me how sweet that dirty little mouth can be.”
The press of his hard body against her was pure bliss. Lightning bolts of pleasure speared through her veins until every part of her body was hot and sensitive to his touch.
“And you will never do what you did tonight,” he growled. “A dress like this, you wear only for me. Touching yourself, you do only for me. And you drink only when I’m with you so I can take advantage.”
Drunk on his savage masculinity and his sensual promises, and maybe two too many drinks, she leaned up and nipped his ear. “I’m not afraid of you.”
His fingers sank into her waist and he lowered his head, his dark eyes intense as he sealed his mouth over hers and stole her breath in a scorching kiss. Her lips parted and their tongues met, tangled, thrust together deep and wet as he took control. “Looking the way you look and dancing the way you danced in front of other men, you should damn well be afraid.”
*
His tongue was down her throat when the first shots rang out.
Instinct sent him diving behind the low retaining wall surrounding the dance floor, dragging Arianne with him. Screams echoed around them. Glass shattered. He looked over the wall, and his blood pumped hot in his veins. Leo. What the f*ck was he doing here, and who the hell did he have with him?