Fire Inside (Chaos #2)(8)
She laid there and stared up at him, not saying a word, so Hop gave her an alternate option.
“Or are you gonna lie there and stare at me?”
“I think I need to lie here and stare at you for about thirty more seconds,” she whispered and Hop felt his lips twitch.
Then he offered quietly, “Have at it, baby.”
“Though, while lying here staring at you, I’m just going to say, I really like your mustache,” she told him.
“Good to know,” he muttered, his lips still twitching.
“It’s badass biker cool,” she went on.
“Right,” he kept muttering, now through a grin.
“And it feels good on my neck and, well… other places,” she continued and his grin turned to a smile.
“Also good to know.”
“I think I’m done staring at you,” she announced.
“So, you gonna get busy?”
She’d lied.
She wasn’t done staring at him. He knew this because she kept staring for a beat before she lifted her head and touched her mouth to his.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
He grinned against her mouth before he kissed her, rolling her with him as he turned onto his back.
When he broke the kiss, she got busy and sucked him off in bed.
Like class.
Like a lady.
* * *
Dressed and sitting on the side of her bed, Hop shifted the soft, heavy hair off Lanie’s neck, leaned in and put his lips there.
“Tickles,” she murmured. He lifted his head and caught her eyes. “In a good way,” she finished.
“Good,” he murmured back and dipped his already close face closer. “Sun’s up, honey.”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“Later,” he said.
“Yeah.” She drew in breath then asked, “Tonight?”
“You want that?”
She nodded her head on the pillow.
Excellent. He did too.
He lifted his lips to her temple, kissed her there, moved them to her ear and said softly, “You got it.”
Then, without another look at her in her bed, sleepy, sexy and sated, something he knew he couldn’t walk away from, he walked away from her, through her house and out the sliding glass door, putting Lanie Heron out of his mind.
Until tonight.
Chapter One
Cheese Whiz
I was on a hand and my knees. My other arm was straight out, hand flat against my cream linen padded headboard, Hop behind me, f**king me hard.
I was close. This was good, the best.
The best I ever had.
Then he did what I knew he’d do—four nights, no matter how many times we did it, he always ended it the same way.
He pulled out and my head jerked around, my eyes went to him and I pleaded, “Hop. Please don’t. I’m close.”
He dropped to a hip at my side and pulled me over him. Head to my pillows and God, God, he looked hot, all that messy hair, that biker ’tache, his badass gorgeousness framed by my pale pink pillowcase.
“Ride me, lady,” he muttered and I didn’t make him ask twice.
I lifted up to straddle him, wrapped my hand around his cock, guided the tip inside and slid down until he filled me.
My head dropped back. I loved this, I missed it. He’d been pounding inside me not ten seconds before but having him back, it felt like I hadn’t had him in years.
Hop shifted then I felt his fingers slide into my hair so his hand could cup the back of my head. He tilted it down. I opened my eyes to see he’d knifed up so I was staring into his, close.
His eyes were intense. Always when we were like this, they were intense in a way I never felt before. Like he could read my thoughts. See into my head. Touch my soul through a gaze.
“Move, Lanie,” he murmured, and again, I didn’t make him ask twice.
My gaze held captive in his, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and moved. His arm snaked around my waist, holding me close so my body slid against his as I rode him, his hand cupped to my head pulling me down so my lips grazed his. Through this, his eyes held mine, not letting go.
My soft breaths whispered against his lips as it built again, just as his deep groans sounded against mine.
I was getting close. This was good, the best. The best.
The best I ever had.
His arm around my waist moved so his hand could glide over my belly and down. Suddenly, his thumb hit the spot and God, God, perfect aim.
Elliott couldn’t do that. Because I was me and more than a little crazy, I’d done the math and Elliott had hit the spot on his first try one out of every four times.
Hop never missed.
I closed my eyes as it shot through me, my head automatically arching back only to be caught in Hop’s grip, forced forward, my lips to his, my moans sounding in his mouth. I kept moving, faster, faster even as it shook me.
The best I ever had.
I finished and kept moving, my rhythm not breaking, needing to give to Hop what I’d just had. Needing to get it back. Needing it like a drug.
Hazy from my orgasm, I watched his face get dark, hungry. He was close.
Then he shoved my face into his neck as he shoved his into mine, his arm clamped around me, holding me down on his c**k as he groaned deep, the sound vibrating against my skin.
Absolutely, bar none, the best I ever had.