Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(17)
Then again, if I didn’t know him, and came across him walking down the street, I’d do the exact same thing. And it’s not just a judgey call because he’s so unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. He is dangerous. Those two guys back in the coffee shop couldn’t leave fast enough when Zach appeared.
And although Kat is nice enough, she wasn’t joking when she threatened me. Even when I assured her it was just a casual thing between Zach and me, she didn’t seem convinced, although I don’t know why she’d think I’d lie about something like that. Even if I did want more than a dirty weekend with him, he’s not the type to want a relationship. Anyone can see that.
He takes me across the forecourt and into his workshop. Light streams in through the windows, which look perfectly normal. So they’re only blacked out for anyone trying to look inside, which doesn’t exactly disprove my suspicion his business is illegal.
And my Mercedes is in there, taking up most of the space.
I swing around, but as far as I can see there’s no possible way my car could’ve gotten in here. “How…?”
He grins at my obvious confusion. “The entire front opens up. Comes in useful sometimes.”
I guess it does. “Will whatever you’re going to do invalidate the warranty?”
“Only if you tell anyone. They’ll never know it’s been hacked by the time I’m done.” He backs me up against my car and plants his fists either side of my shoulders. Strangely, it’s not menacing, just exciting.
“My lips are sealed.”
I’ve just become an accessory to a crime. Considering I’m the only person I know who drives under the speed limit and panics if a police cruiser follows me for longer than three seconds, I should be freaking out. I probably will as soon as this crazy weekend is over, but for now I’m just going with the flow.
I can’t help myself, and flatten my palms over his rock-hard abs. I’ve had sex with Zach more times over the last few hours than I had with Russell during our last month together, but I only have to look at Zach and I’m wet with need. “Do you have to start work right now?” I load my last two words with meaning, and just so he’s in no doubt of what I want, I drift my lips along his stubbled jaw.
“Always got time for you.” He spears his fingers through my hair and tilts my head. God, his kisses kill me. Even though his body isn’t touching mine, his tongue inside my mouth is an electric surge that heats my blood. My nipples harden and I push myself against him, not caring that we’re in a garage workshop, or that the faint smell of oil lingers all around.
If anything, the grimy location just turns me on more than ever. I wind my arms around his neck, and without breaking this mind blowing kiss he manages to pull off his leather vest, but instead of tossing it onto the ground, he places it on the roof of the car.
He unzips my dress and I release him just long enough to shrug it down my arms. It pools at my feet on the stained floor. Another dress ruined. So totally worth it.
“Never had a girl up against a Merc.” His unclips my bra and drops it on top of his vest. I arch my back, thrusting my breasts forward, and his grin is hotter than hell. “You ever done this before?”
I choke back a laugh. Russell would be horrified by the very idea. “And risk scratching the paintwork? Not likely.”
He cups my breasts in his callused hands before killing me with teasing kisses, slowly inching toward my aching nipples. He licks one sensitive peak and I groan, digging in my fingers on his head, but he doesn’t follow through. Instead he looks up, and there’s an evil glint in his eyes.
“If the paint’s getting scratched, then you’re doing it wrong.”
“I don’t care about the paintwork.”
He circles a nipple with his thumb. It’s torture and heaven and I don’t know if I’m thrilled or mad that he’s taking his own sweet time about getting down and dirty.
“And it’s real unhygienic.” There’s a mocking note in his voice.
I grip his hair and pull. Not gently, either, but he appears to love it as he slams me against the car and the rigid length of his cock brands my stomach.
“Hygiene’s overrated.”
Keeping me pinned to the car with his groin, he rips his T-shirt over his head. I let out an unintentional sigh at the sight of his magnificent chest and trace my fingers over one of his tattoos.
He grips my wrist and forces my hand between our bodies. “Prove it.”
Feverishly I tug his fly open and shove his jeans over his hips. A flash of movement catches my eye and I glance toward the windows and freeze. People are strolling along the sidewalk. All they have to do is look this way and they’d see me standing here, all but naked, my hand wrapped around Zach’s cock.
I should be shocked out of my mind but I’m not. And only then do I remember that nobody can see in. But it’s still hard to grasp I’m not on full view of an unsuspecting public, and heat floods through me. I’m a closet exhibitionist. I huff out a scandalized laugh and Zach growls.
“What you laughing at?”
“All those people out there. And I’m doing this while I can still see them.”
“Never screwed in public?” He’s nibbling my throat and it’s hard to think, but there’s something odd in his question. It’s almost as though he thinks having sex in public is as common as doing it in the shower.