Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
God, no. What was he doing? Today was not the day for this. Her emotions hovered too close to the surface and risked bubbling out. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.
“Don’t hide from me, baby. Open those pretty eyes.”
“I don’t think I can.” If she opened her eyes now, he’d see it all—her fears, her doubts, her feelings for him.
His lips pressed against hers in a kiss so sweet it sent a rush through her bloodstream. “There’s nothing you can’t do, Jo.”
He couldn’t have spoken more perfect words. If he’d pressured her to look at him or demanded, she could have resisted. But with one simple sentence lacking pet names or platitudes, he showed her he believed in her and thought of her as more than a pair of tits and long legs.
And it terrified her.
What could come of a relationship—cop and an outlaw biker—but heartbreak and pain?
Yet she opened her eyes and found affection, admiration, and awe mixed with his lust. It was an intoxicating combination that snared her. At that moment, she’d have happily drowned in the deep pools of his beautiful eyes.
“Stunning,” he whispered again as he rocked his pelvis against hers.
Jo bit her lower lip and swallowed down the sob that threatened to burst forward. No one had ever made her believe words more. They stayed that way with their faces close, staring into each other’s eyes as their bodies slowly became one. After what could have been hours, the need for more grew again.
Tracker must have felt the same desperation. The force and speed of his thrusts picked up until he was hammering into her, and she had no choice but to cling to him to keep up. “Eyes open. Wanna watch you come,” he ground out between rapid breaths.
She wanted the same. Wanted to see the moment he found ultimate pleasure in her body.
“You’re gonna make me come so fucking hard,” he continued. “Nothing’s better than fucking you.”
“Tracker, I’m close. Please don’t stop.” She met his thrust with furious pumps of her hips.
“Never.” One of his hands remained on the armrest above her head, propping him up while the other gripped her ass and helped him fuck her even harder.
He hit a spot inside her that had her crying out and digging her nails into his back.
“Fuck, that’s it.” He moved her hips faster. “Tear me up, baby.” He fucked her so hard her tits bounced and dislodged from her bra. “Jesus, that’s sexy.” He sucked an escaped nipple into his mouth.
“Fin…” She wanted to scream his name from the rooftops, but it came out in the neediest whimper she’d ever heard from herself. Later, she’d be humiliated, but she needed to come so bad she did it again. “Fin, please.” She was close. So close. A puff of air on her clit would send her into outer space.
He released her nipple and stared straight into her soul. “Again, baby. Beg me again, and I’ll let you come.”
Beyond caring about anything but coming, she did exactly that. “Please, Fin, please make me come.”
“Any-fucking-time, baby. Just keep those beautiful eyes on me.”
She trembled as he worked for a hand between their feverish bodies. Thank God, he didn’t tease her but went straight for her clit. The second his thumb pressed over it, he thrust in hard, and she erupted in a pleasure so fierce it would have scared her if it wasn’t for his steady gaze keeping her grounded.
Her back arched off the couch, and her muscles trembled with spasms she had no control over. Every cell in her body lit up and glowed. Tracker held her tight, stroking her clit and prolonging the shocking sensations, but within seconds, he tensed and cursed above her.
She fought to keep her eyes open as they both rode out the orgasms. The second he came, she swore she saw straight to the beating heart inside him.
She was so screwed when it came to this man.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IF JO THOUGHT being in the Handlers’ clubhouse had been uncomfortable last time, she’d been dead wrong.
Sitting there with beard burn and Tracker’s hand in hers while the club members glared at her with varying levels of distrust—that was uncomfortable.
She gripped Tracker’s hand so hard the poor man wouldn’t be able to hold onto his bike’s handlebar later.
Last time she’d come there as a cop. This time, she was what? Tracker’s hook-up? His lover? His girlfriend?
No. The unwelcome expressions on his brothers’ faces only validated the idea she’d never be more than a fuck buddy to Tracker. Not that she wanted more.
He was an outlaw biker.
She was a cop.
For now.
“What’s going on, Tracker?” Curly asked. They all sat around the main area of the clubhouse. Were it a few hours later in the day, she had no doubt the prospect behind the bar would be serving up drinks. Hell, by the time they finished telling the club why she was there, they might start drinking despite the early hour. “You asked us all to be here.”