Own the Wind(109)

He got her. Her dead old man was a moron and she paid for his shit in the worst way she could. Her loyalty bought her nothing but pain, bullet wounds, and heartache. Not to mention, her man might have been good at what he did for a living, the computer geek to end all computer geeks, but he was nothing to look at. So she not only gave love and loyalty but she stepped out of a zone no woman who looked like her had to step out of in order to give it.

So, yeah, Elliott Belova was a moron, and she chose that. He could see her wanting to get back in the saddle but being skittish about buying the horse.

She just wasn’t going to do it with him.

Hop started to lift his hands to curl them around her upper arms and set her away but she moved fast, lifting hers to curl them around the sides of his neck, and they felt warm. Her perfume assaulted him straight on and he stilled.

“I do not want that,” she carried on. “What I want is… you. For one night. Just one night.”

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

“Lady,” he muttered but before he could say more, she kept talking.

“It was… I know you know where I was back then and who I was with and I know you had a woman then too, Hop, but still, that night I met you, I couldn’t help but notice you were good-looking. But you’re not with anyone anymore, and I’m seriously not with anyone anymore, and I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, just too scared to do anything about it. Now I’ve decided I’m doing something about it.”

“I gotta say, I like it that you’re into me, babe,” he returned gently. “Already told you that you’re beautiful, and under any other circumstances, I would not hesitate to take you up on an offer this sweet. So you gotta know it’s killin’ me, even as you gotta trust me when I say this is not a good idea.”

“I’ve had no one since him,” she whispered and, acting on their own, Hop’s hands came up and settled on her waist, giving it a squeeze and he didn’t know why. The move was intimate but comforting. The news that this woman, this crazy-gorgeous woman and all that was her hadn’t had a man between her legs in f*cking years moved him even as it troubled him.

“Lanie, honey,” he muttered, not having that first f*cking clue what else to say.

“I’ve thought on it and decided it’s you.” Her hands at his neck gave him a squeeze and f*ck him, f*ck him, that moved him even more. “I understand why you don’t want to, but I promise, Hop, I swear, no kidding, seriously, no strings. No expectations. Just us. One night. Tomorrow, it will be like it’s always been. Like it didn’t even happen. I promise, Hop. Swear.”

Her hands slid down to his chest but she didn’t move away as she finished laying it out.

“Now, I’m going to your room and I’m going to wait there for fifteen minutes. If you don’t show, no harm, no foul. I promise that too. Nothing changes between us. No one knows anything.” She sucked in a breath and took a half step back, her hands falling away when she concluded in a quiet voice, “But”—she hesitated—“I really hope you show.”

With that, not giving him a chance to say another word, she turned and strutted her narrow ass back through the loud, rowdy, drunk bikers and their bitches, her hair swaying, her arms moving gracefully, her scent still in his nostrils.

“Shit,” he whispered when he watched her haul open the door to the Compound.

“Shit,” he repeated when the door closed behind her.

He kept his eyes on the door and he did this awhile.

That woman, that crazy-gorgeous woman, was right now in his room.

“Shit,” he whispered yet again, right before he made his way to the door.

* * *

Hopper broke contact with Lanie’s hooded eyes, eyes that were a f*ckuva lot sexier since he’d just come inside her, and he did it hard and he did it long and he shoved his face in her neck.

All he could smell was her. All he could feel was her warm, soft body under his, one of her legs wrapped around the back of his thigh, the other one cocked high, her thigh pressed to his side but her calf was swung in, her heel resting in the small of his back. Her arms were tight around him, one at his shoulders, one angled, resting along his spine. Last, he could feel his cock buried in her unbelievably tight, wet cunt.

He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was that she’d never had kids. Maybe it was because it had been so long since she had a man. Whatever it was, her * was close to virgin, it was so tight. Luckily, it was also sleek. Luckier, it tasted like goddamned honey.

He was right when they were talking outside.

This was about to get complicated.

Her head moved, and he felt her lips at his ear even as he heard her soft, tentative words, “Was that all right?”

Hop closed his eyes even as his hips reflexively pressed into hers and he gently fisted the hand he had buried in her hair.

She was worried she was out of practice. She was worried it wasn’t good for him. And considering the fact that if she was out of practice, when she got into the swing of things, she’d be off the charts, her worry was both cute and sweet and, like everything else about her, it did a number on him.

Yes, things were going to get complicated.

He opened his eyes, moved his head so his lips were at her ear, and he murmured, “Lady, I don’t fake it. Not only because I can’t but because even if I could, I wouldn’t.”