Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(6)

Chapter Three


Grace


He falls on top of me, still inside me and still gripping my hair. My eyes are closed and I can hardly breathe, and although the pool table smells of old beer and who knows what else, I don’t have any desire to move. Not yet, anyway. Because I love the feel of his big body crushing me, the way his fist tangles my hair, and I don’t even have words for what his cock just did to me.

My body quivers at the memory, and he stirs, but not enough to release me. His hand still cradles my sex which is a good thing since otherwise I’d be squashed against the table. I try to roll my shoulders to ease the ache in my arms, but I’m all uncoordinated, as though my brain’s been scrambled.

Slowly my breathing returns to normal. And with it, so does a shred of my usual good sense.

I’ve just had wild monkey sex with a complete stranger.

I wait to feel thoroughly disgusted with myself, but all that happens is the crazy wish that I could do it all again.

He moves his head and his unshaven jaw rasps against my shoulder. I don’t know why that’s such a turn-on. Then he drifts kisses across the back of my neck, holding my hair up, and I don’t care why I find it all so arousing. I just close my eyes and enjoy it.

I might as well make the most of it. He might act like a Neanderthal in public, but my God, in private he has sex like a Casanova. I don’t want to leave…

That errant thought is enough to slap me right back into the present and I tense, even though I try not to. It’s too late, though, as my reaction has obviously filtered through to him. He releases my hair and eases back, and when he’s no longer inside my body, embarrassed heat rolls over me.

I’m practically naked, trussed up like a turkey, and he’s standing behind me looking at my bare ass.

With a mortified whimper I struggle upright and shuffle around. He’s got a satisfied grin on his face as he drops the condom into the trashcan before he zips himself up. I try not to wince. It all seems so tacky, now I’m not high on sex pheromones.

He steps toward me. He’s hot and dangerous, and now that I know what he can do with his tongue and mouth it’s even more of a lethal combination than when I first saw him out in the bar. I try to pull my hands free, but nothing is cooperating. I can’t even tug my dress down properly to hide my lady parts.

“Need some help there?” He wraps his arms around me and tugs my sleeves from my wrists. I hold my breath but it doesn’t help. He smells of leather and whiskey and anonymous, sweaty sex.

“Thank you.” I avoid looking him in the eye as I hastily push my hands into my sleeves. The cashmere dress is all pulled out of shape and ruined, but at least it’ll cover me up.

“My pleasure.” There’s a hint of laughter in his voice, and I glance up at him. His smile no longer strikes me as smug, and instead it sends shudders of need between my thighs.

Whoa. I’m not putting out again. Not here, anyway.

I did not just think that.

My priority is to get home to my sister’s apartment, which I used to share with her before I moved in with my ex. She’s away this week, but I texted her as soon as I split from Russell, and she’s completely on my side. Unlike my mom, who when I spoke to her last night advised me to sleep on it before I made any rash decisions. I drag my panties up my legs, scoop my coat up from the floor and tug it on, and only then do I feel ready to face him again.

I clear my throat. I really need to get to a bathroom, but first I need to sort out practicalities. “So, can I use your phone now?”

He frowns, as though he has no idea what I’m talking about. “Why?” There’s a strange, guarded note in his voice.

I resist the urge to fork my fingers through my hair. It won’t make any difference. I need a shower, but that’s not happening any time soon.

“To call roadside assistance.” And a cab. I’m a little offended he forgot, but I guess I can’t blame him. It’s not like we’re about to embark on a relationship or anything. Why should he remember anything I’ve said?

“Your car really broke down?” He’s not frowning anymore. It doesn’t make any sense, but he sounds amused. “And your cell battery’s dead?”

I wrap my arms around my waist. I can’t work out what he’s playing at. “Yes. I already told you that.”

“Didn’t believe you.”

His careless response takes my breath away, not least because it means he hadn’t forgotten what I said. “Why would I lie about something like that?”

His smile should carry a public health warning. “Thought you just wanted a f*ck on the wrong side of town.”

I’m speechless. Worse than that, though, my face heats until I know I’m a bright, glowing red. And while I want to deny the accusation, I can’t. Because isn’t there more than a sliver of truth in what he said?

He laughs, and now I just want to smack his face. I swing around on my heels and snatch my purse up from the floor. “So, phone?” I rummage through my purse for my brush so I don’t have to look at him.

“I can take a look at your car in the morning.”

I look up at him before I can stop myself. “In the morning?”

“Too dark right now.”

Wait. What?

“I’m…” I flounder, because I’m not sure exactly what he’s getting at. “Are you a mechanic or something?”