Hooked (Viking Bastards MC) Read online

  “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.

  “Well, hardly.” My head tips to one side and my eyes drift close. “Don’t want to get arrested right before an orgasm.”

  He snorts with laughter and then nips my earlobe. “I wouldn’t let that happen to you.”

  “I know you wouldn’t.” He might scare the crap out of some people, but he’s the most giving lover I’ve ever had. Sure, that makes me hopelessly shallow, but in my experience not every guy is that thoughtful every single time once they get me naked. I wish there could be more between us… “But I’ll pass, thanks.” I tease his balls, and his appreciative grunt makes me daring. I grip his cock more tightly with my other hand as I massage his thick length.

  He grips my butt and his uneven breath is hot against my neck. I pant in his ear. “Condom?”

  “Pocket.”

  His jeans are around his ankles. I wriggle down his body, gliding my hands over his gorgeously tight ass and rock-hard thighs. His cock is right in front of me and I lick my lips, heart pounding. Am I really going to do this?

  Yes, I am. I scrabble around in his pockets until I find what I’m searching for. I’ve never given head when the guy’s worn protection before, but I’ve always been in committed relationships whenever I had sex so the whole safety aspect never came into it.

  I’m not naive, and I’m not about to take any chances, even if the idea of sucking Zach’s naked cock into my mouth is giving me all kinds of hot chills.

  As I roll the condom on, he tangles his fingers in my hair. “Christ, you look fucking gorgeous on your knees. D’you know what I want to do with you right—” He sucks in a sharp breath as I wrap my mouth around him, and the look of shock on his face more than makes up for the less than great taste of the condom.

  I slowly slide along his length. God, he’s big. I’ll dislocate my jaw if I’m not careful. Somehow that only makes it all hotter, and I suck greedily, my cheeks hollowing with effort.

  His fingers dig into my scalp and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. His hips flex, and if I wasn’t gripping the base of his cock with my fist, I swear he’d be right down my throat.

  A strangled moan tries to escape, but my mouth is too full of Zach. He pumps a couple of times and I gag, unable to breathe. I always hate when that happens, but he doesn’t keep on going. He pulls out and hauls me to my feet.

  For a couple of seconds, we pant into each other’s faces, before he lifts me off the floor and side shuffles to the front of the car. “When I finally shoot my load in your mouth, it’s not gonna be in a fucking condom. You’ll swallow everything I give you.”

  I’ve no idea whether that’s a promise or a threat, and right now I don’t care. He kisses me like he’s starving, and I cling onto his shoulders as though he’s everything I’ll ever need.

  His hand slides down the front of my thong, and I buck into him as he circles my throbbing clit. I’m so wet, he must know I’m ready for him, but he keeps on teasing until I’m all but begging him to take me.

  His grin is lethal, and then he rips my thong in two before lifting me onto the hood. I glance over his shoulder through the windows, and seeing the oblivious strangers going about their business in the street is far more of a turn-on than it should be.

  Who cares? I don’t. I wrap my legs around him and he pulls me close. “Sex on the hood,” he says, and I shudder because that sounds so irresistibly bad.

  He pushes into me, our gazes locked. His grip is firm around my hips as his thrusts become faster, and I claw his shoulders, loving it.

  “Harder.” It’s a hoarse command, and for a moment I don’t know what he means. I’m not in control. It’s Zach setting the pace, and all I can do is hang on tight for the ride.

  But his demand echoes through my mind, as though I should know what he means. Harder…

  I hook my fingers and rake my nails down his back. He rears, his teeth gritted, and primal power rushes through me. I do it again, mindless with lust and the scent of blood and sweat and oil.

  So. Good…

  And when he comes, hard and long, he takes me right over the edge of the world with him.

  Chapter Seven

  Grace

  He holds me tight in his powerful arms, his fingers idly caressing my back, and it seems like forever before my heart slows and breathing eases. Even when it does, I have no inclination to move, despite the location.

  I’ll never be able to look at my car again without remembering this moment.

  Finally, he withdraws, pulls up his jeans, and disposes of the condom. I’m still perched on the hood wearing nothing but my shoes, and I self-consciously fold my arms across my breasts. But then Zach sweeps his dark gaze over me as though he’d like to do me again right now, and I forget about being embarrassed and instead clasp my hands between my knees so my breasts squish together and look nice and perky.

  He enjoys the view for a few seconds, before hooking my bra up from the top of the car with one finger and handing it to me. With a sigh I hop off the hood and pull on my clothes. The dress doesn’t look too crumpled and I can’t see any oil stains. Before I can zip myself up, he loops his arms around me. It’s a tender, warm gesture, as though we’re a regular couple and not just a casual hookup. And I must stop reading more into everything he does. He’s probably like this with every woman he has sex with.

  I run my palm over his bicep to distract my wayward thoughts. His ink fascinates me, but I’m completely captivated by his magnificent bald eagle. “I love your tattoos.”

  He flexes his muscles and grins, as though I just paid him the world’s best compliment. “Got this one done when I made prospect. My old man had the same one, and so did his dad. Couldn’t break the tradition.”

  I trace my finger over the intricate artwork. “It’s beautiful.” I’ve no idea if that’s an appropriate response, but it’s true, and Zach strokes the small of my back as though he likes my comment just fine. “I guess your dad was proud that day.”

  His fingers still, and tension radiates from him. “He died six months before I got it done.”

  Crap. I didn’t mean to upset him or bring back painful memories. Why did I have to spoil the mood with my unthinking words? “I’m so sorry.” I cradle his jaw, half expecting him to push me away and finish getting dressed. But he doesn’t. He just gives me a strange little smile as though he doesn’t understand what I mean.

  “Not your fault. There was a screw-up with protection inside. Heads rolled for that fuck-up.”

  His life might be completely different than mine, but it isn’
t hard to understand what he means. Why was his father in prison? The only other person I’ve ever known who went to jail was a former associate of my parents, and he was put away for embezzlement.

  I have the feeling Zach’s father was arrested for something more…physical.

  A shiver ripples over me, despite how much I try to suppress it. Zach sighs and holds me tighter, and I rest my cheek against his shoulder. It’s crazy how safe he makes me feel when I’m in his arms, because I know he’s anything but.

  Yet I can’t dislodge the conviction that he’d never hurt me, no matter what. Which is another crazy thought, because how can I be so sure of somebody I barely know?

  I don’t want to talk about his past. This is just a wild fling with my very own bad boy, and according to both my best friend and sister, you never get too personal on casual hookups. It makes sense, but I can’t help myself.

  “Is that when you took over the family business?” It’s a shot in the dark, but not really that much of a stretch. Not with him living with his sister in the upstairs apartment.

  He makes a sound of agreement, and rubs his jaw across my head. “I’d been working here full time since I was sixteen, so I knew the ropes. It was either that or lose everything when Mom died so soon after Dad.”

  I wince and bite my lip. I really should’ve shut up when I had the chance. “I’m so sorry.” I sound like a parrot, but what else can I say?

  He lifts my face with one finger, and I melt all over again when I look in his gorgeous, deep brown eyes. “Stop saying you’re sorry.” He sounds faintly amused. “It was ten years ago. I’m over it, all right?”

  I’m not sure you could ever really get over something like that, but since I don’t have any personal experience with losing a parent I can hardly disagree with him.

  “So you brought Kat up.” Suddenly her protective instinct when it comes to Zach makes more sense. He might not need it, but she sure as heck has his back. A strange, warm feeling weaves through my chest. I’m glad he has someone looking out for him.

  “She was eleven.” He shifts as though he’s uncomfortable, but doesn’t release me. “Gage and I did what we could, but it was tough. Don’t know if we could’ve got through it without our president’s old lady stepping in.”

  I press my lips against his shoulder. It’s instinctive, not sexual at all. Just a comfort thing really, and I’m probably crossing some invisible line, but it doesn’t matter. There’s a chink in the armor this tough guy shows the world, and even if I never see him again after tomorrow, I’ll never forget him. And that won’t be just because of the amazing orgasms.

  His hold on me loosens, but I’m not ready to let him go yet. He wasn’t comfortable sharing about his family, that’s obvious, and even though I want to know so much more about him, it’s not going to happen if I push it.

  I change the subject back to what we were discussing before it became too personal. “Did the same artist who does your tattoos do Kat’s butterfly?”

  Relief flashes over his face, although it’s gone in a second. It seems my gut feeling was right, as his arms once again tighten around me. “Yeah.” He gives me a crooked smile that makes me all warm inside. “Cade’s the best around.”

  “I’ve been thinking of getting one done.” Oh my God. Where did that come from? I might wish I had the nerve, but, hello, needles. Why put myself through unnecessary pain?

  “You should.” He hauls me close so I’m squashed against his bare chest. Not that I’m complaining. “What’ve you got in mind?”

  Wait. He sounds serious. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t know that between my phobia of needles, and years of having it drummed into me that tattoos are tasteless and common, I’m as likely to get one as fly to the moon.

  I tuck my fingers into his back pockets. Damn, his butt feels good. “Well,” I hesitate. Despite everything, the crazy thing is I know exactly what tattoo I’d love. “I’ve always wanted a single iris. You know, the flower.” I don’t want him thinking I want some freaky eyeball on my body. “In memory of my grandmother, Iris.”

  “Cool,” he says, and I smile, relieved he didn’t laugh. I mean, he’s a big bad biker and an iris is a delicate, fragile flower, so I was half expecting it. “That’d look good on you. Classy,” he adds, which causes another warm glow to spread through me.

  “No idea where I’d have it, though.” This might be only a hypothetical conversation, but it’s fun talking about it. I’ve never even mentioned my secret love of ink to my sister, not even after she got drunk one night and came home with a tramp stamp.

  He tugs my hand free from his pocket. “There.” He rubs his thumb over the tender skin of my wrist and shivers race along my arm. I’d been thinking more along the lines of somewhere hidden from the world, aka my parents, such as…well, my butt, I guess.

  There’s no way I’d ever have an iris tattooed on my ass.

  I sigh, because it’s all academic anyway. But since it’ll never happen, I love the idea of having it on my inner wrist. “Yes. That’s perfect.” I look up at him and only one thought fills my head.

  I don’t want this day to ever end.

  …

  The following morning, I stealthily untangle myself from Zach’s sprawling body and inch off his bed. It’s just gone six, and the last thing I want to do is leave, but my car is fixed and that was the deal. And I sure don’t want to find out first hand what Kat meant by “it didn’t end well” when the last woman Zach brought here overstayed her welcome.

  He grabs my wrist in a move so fast it takes my breath away. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whisper, although I’ve no idea why I do, since he’s obviously awake now.

  The sheet rides low on his hips, and it’s impossible to drag my hungry gaze away from his sculpted body. He’s become an addiction, and that can’t be a good thing.

  “You working today?” His voice is deep and sexy and doesn’t help at all to convince me that I really need to leave right now.

  I clear my throat and don’t miss the satisfied gleam in his eyes. He knows exactly how he affects me. Then again, I’m stark naked and my nipples are so erect they ache with need.

  “No, I’m not.” For a second I debate going into any more detail, then decide what the heck. After Russell’s mini-rant on the phone yesterday, I’m not looking forward to avoiding him at work for goodness knows how long until his ego recovers from our breakup. “Actually, I’m going to resign. I don’t want to work in the same place as my ex.”

  Something flashes in his eyes. “Good.” There’s an unmistakable stamp of possessiveness in his tone. “I don’t want you working anywhere near that prick anymore.”

  I blink. Considering we’re not in a relationship it’s a weird thing to say, and even if we were officially dating, that kind of ultimatum isn’t something I’d put up with. After all, the final straw for me with Russell was when he tried to pull a similar display of machismo. “It’s hardly up to you who I work with, is it?”

  He pulls me back onto the bed and looms over me. Upside down, with his hair falling over his face, he looks downright lethal. “What’s the problem, princess? You just said you were going to leave.”

  That’s true. I frown up at him because, unlike Russell, Zach didn’t demand I give up something I love just because it suited his view of how things should be.

  “I am.” Of course, being the heir apparent of Mulholland Hotels means my resignation from the L.A. position will simply entail a transfer to another location.

  “Was he your boss?” Zach twirls a length of my hair around his finger. He seems to really like playing with my hair.

  “No. I don’t have to leave because of anything like that.” The family connections between my parents and Russell’s go back decades, and we’re both being groomed to eventually become Executive Vice Presidents of the Mulholland International hotel chain. If I wanted to play really dirty, it wouldn’t be impossible to have Russell transferred from the central L.A. hotel to Mi
lan or London, where he could continue his stratospheric rise through the ranks to Chief Financial Officer far away from me.

  Except I have no great desire to remain in the family business, or to end up on the Executive Board, which has been my career path since I was eighteen, so I don’t really care where I’m based.

  I let out an unintentional sigh. Even college and four years in the business hasn’t dimmed my passion for what I’d really like to do with my life.

  “What’d you do?” There’s curiosity in his voice, and it’s funny, because I don’t remember the last time I was with someone who had no idea what I do. Just goes to show how narrow my social circle is.

  “I’m in HR.” Well, to be precise, my trajectory is shooting for Chief Human Resources Officer, but it’s not anything I’m that enthused about.

  “Should be easy enough to get another job.” He brushes the end of one of my curls across my nose, and the upside-down grin on his face is kind of adorable in a demonic way.

  “Yes. That’s not the problem.” I push his hand away and go to sit up, but he holds me down as he swings himself across me and cradles my hips with his knees. I slide my hands over his chest because I’m all for having one last sexy session, but he pins my wrists above my head in one hand and braces his weight on his other fist on the bed beside my shoulder.

  “It’s not what you want to do.”

  It’s not even a question. How can someone who doesn’t know me at all jump to that conclusion? And, more to the point, be right?

  “Well…” It’s on the tip of my tongue to deny it, but why should I? “No, not really.”

  “So why don’t you just do what you want?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Why?”

  I bite my lip. He wouldn’t understand. And then I wonder…would he?

  “It’s tied into my family. Suppose you’d decided against joining your motorcycle club—would that’ve been an easy decision?”

  He frowns, obviously considering it. “I always wanted to join. But if I hadn’t, no one would’ve made me.”