Emma shut her car off and took a slow, deep breath. She glanced down at her outfit one more time. She made sure to pick something out of her closet this time that might not reflect her day job.

Or what used to be her day job. Before she had been “let go.” Like those words softened the blow.

They didn’t.

She needed this job at Heaven’s Angels. The school year was over, and no one was hiring teachers anywhere at the moment. And even if they were, the salary wouldn’t be enough for her needs.

So, she had dragged out her oldest snug jeans with a ripped-out knee, her tightest blouse—leaving enough buttons undone to give him a good eye full of her cleavage—and yanked on an old pair of heels she found at the back of her closet. Unfortunately, her feet were already killing her and all she did was walk in them out to her car.

She also had given the club manager plenty of time to cool down while she went home, got on the internet and did some research. Who knew that YouTube was a wealth of information on how to strip?

After dragging out her full-length mirror, she’d set her laptop up where she could see it and practiced for the past few hours. Until she was pretty sure she had a routine down pat.

When she came back more determined than ever to show this strip club manager how serious she was, she found the front door to the club locked. Not willing to give up that easily, she drove around back hoping she’d find another entrance. Like an employee entrance. A way to get back inside and beg for a second chance.

As she was preparing herself mentally in what she could assume was the employee parking lot, another car pulled up next to her and a female got out.

Emma scrambled from her car and called out to her. “Hi!” She added a little wave to be extra friendly, to show she was harmless and not some stripper stalker.

The woman wrestled a huge purse out of the car and slammed the door shut, before turning and giving Emma a suspicious look. “Yeah?”

“I... uh... I’m looking for Dawson.”

The platinum blonde gave Emma the side-eye and a frown. “Dawson?”

What the hell was his nickname? Doug? Dog? Ah... “Dawg.”

A knowing look crossed the other woman’s face. “It’s early yet. He’s probably up in his place.” She lifted her chin toward the back steps of the building.

“His place?”

The blonde pursed her bright red lips and studied Emma for a second. Probably wondering if she was some psycho bitch ready to take down her boss. “Yeah, he lives above the club. In the apartment there.”

Emma glanced up and saw a light on in one of the windows. When she dropped her gaze, the dancer was gone and the back door with the sign “Employees Only” was shutting.

“Hey!” Damn it. She was hoping the woman would be willing to give her some pointers.

She sighed, then wobbled in her heels over to the metal steps to stare up them.

She was about to put herself in a position she knew better than to put herself in., but she had no choice. A minimum wage job just wouldn’t cut it. She needed cash, and she needed a lot of it as soon as possible. And the banks refused to loan it to her. She had no assets, no income, nothing.

Not even family to beg, borrow or steal from.

She was desperate, and she was not leaving until she had this job.

She would do whatever she had to do to get her daughter back.

The first step was the most difficult and once she took that, Emma hurried up the rest of the stairs until she was staring at the plain steel door to this Dawg’s apartment.

Taking a bolstering breath, she raised her fist and rapped on the door.

She waited.

Nothing.

She knocked again.

Nothing.

The third time she thumped as loud as she could. She got an answering shout but had no idea of what it consisted of.

As who-she-assumed-was-Dawg approached the front door, she heard a muffled grumble and a curse.

Crap, he was still in a bad mood. That didn’t bode well for her.

The deadbolt clicked, and the door was thrown open.

Emma’s jaw dropped, and she stepped back so quickly she teetered precariously in her heels. Before she could catch her balance, two large hands grabbed her arms and she was yanked upright hard enough to cause whiplash.

“What the fuck?” he bellowed, making her wince. “What the fuck you doin’ here?”

His gaze raked her from head to toe and Emma struggled to hide the shiver that skittered down her spine.

That shiver wasn’t from fear because, goodness gracious, she couldn’t help but do the same to him. He was a big guy, that was for sure. And this time, he was practically naked. Maybe not quite naked. But close enough, since he only had a pair of unfastened jeans hanging off his hips like they had been pulled on in haste.

His dark blond hair was mussed, his narrowed emerald green eyes dark, and he wore no shirt.

None at all.

Holy moly.

Never in her life had she seen a human being with so many tattoos.

So. Many. Tattoos.

Down his sculpted arms, over his muscular chest and belly, and she could even see one peeking from the opening in his jeans. And he clearly wore no underwear because she noticed there was no end to the dark line of hair that went from his belly button all the way south.

Her gaze traced the line of an erection that was hard to miss under his denim. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes quickly, only to have it land on his bare feet.

Lord, he had good looking feet.

She shook herself mentally at that thought and her gaze shot back up, but not before hesitating for a split second on that V where his jeans hung open. She silently scolded herself, then met his eyes.

He was grinning. Even with that thick beard that was darker than his hair covering his face, he was a good-looking man.

“Like what you see?’

“I... uh...” Yes! “No!”

His smile widened. “Bullshit. Whataya here for?”

She peeked over his shoulder into the dimly lit apartment. “Umm... Can I come in?”

He blinked. “For what?”

“I need to talk to you.”

One of his eyebrows cocked. “Got nothin’ to talk about.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Begged earlier. Didn’t work. Ain’t gonna work now.”

She bit her bottom lip but released it as soon as his eyes focused on that and his smile disappeared.

Without warning, he reached out and brushed his thumb gently over her bottom lip which caused her heart to thump wildly.

He murmured, “That right there, baby girl...” His hand suddenly dropped, and he stepped back, his voice becoming colder. “That right there’s enough to get me in trouble. What do you want?”

“A second chance.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked as he studied her. “You failed—”

“I know. I know! I didn’t realize that—”

“Strippin’s an art? Not everyone’s got the skill to do it?”

“I can do it, I swear!”

His hands settled on his hips as his head dropped back and he stared up at the door frame above him. He blew out a noisy breath.

She was pushing his patience. She knew that. But she wasn’t leaving. Not until she did what she came to do. “Please... Let me audition again... or give you another lap dance. I... I practiced.”

His head dropped forward to stare down at her. “You practiced.”

“Yes!”

“You watch a lap dance how-to video?”

Emma grimaced. “No.”

His lips twitched. “Don’t even know you an’ can tell you’re lyin’.”

What? How was that possible? “Okay, I watched a couple.”

He snorted and tilted his head, his green eyes pinning her in place. “Just a couple?”

She hesitated and then thought maybe being honest with him might get her in the door. “Okay, more than a couple.”

His gaze dropped to where the open buttons of her blouse ended right before the top of her bra. He jerked his chin at her. “Where’d you get those clothes?”

“My closet.”

“When’s the last time you wore ‘em?”

“I don’t know.”

He ran his gaze slowly down her body and back up, then took a step back and lifted a hand to invite her in. “Shouldn’t be doin’ this up here. Should be doin’ it downstairs where I ain’t gonna get accused of nothin’.” He turned and took a few steps deeper into his apartment. “Musta lost my damn mind. Hurry up before all the A/C escapes.”

Emma rushed inside before Dawg changed his “damn mind” and she closed the door behind her. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Would if you actually told me what the fuck’s goin’ on an’ why you’re so desperate.”

Her problem was on a need-to-know basis. And there was no reason for this strip club manager to know. “You just need to know I’m serious about this.”

“Apparently. Comin’ up to a stranger’s apartment to strip an’ do a lap dance. Think you lost your damn mind, too.”

She definitely lost something, and she was determined to get it back.

She followed him farther inside, then he veered to the left and into the kitchenette, his jeans balancing precariously on his hips.

Was it wrong that she wanted them to slip just a little more, so she could see his ass? She swore she saw a couple dimples right above...

Yes. Yes, it was. She was here for an important reason.

He turned suddenly, leaned that ass back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, the flex of his heavily tattooed biceps drawing her eye. “Go.”

She blinked. “Go?”

“Dance. Show me what you got. This is your last shot.”

“Right here?” She glanced around the apartment. It looked like it almost took up the whole second floor of the club. She was standing in a large space that seemed to be a living room area, and it was open to the kitchenette where he stood. Then, from what she could see, there was a hallway with doors. Probably leading to at least one bedroom and a bathroom.

“Yep,” Dawg answered, drawing her attention back to him.

And his naked chest. And his open jeans. And those beautiful feet of his. She winced at her thoughts. “Music?”

“Nope. Want music, shoulda brought your own.” He pointed to an open area between the living room and kitchenette. “Dance. Now. ‘Fore I kick your ass out again.”

Emma licked her lips, drew in a breath and moved to the spot he indicated, almost twisting her ankle on the carpet in the process.

“How you goin’ to wear platform heels when you can’t even walk in what you got on?”

She lifted a hand as she moved into place. “I got this.” She turned to face him when he grunted. “Just watch.”

He snorted. “I’m watchin’, baby girl. Ain’t seein’ shit.”

She needed music. She really did. She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket.

“You callin’ the pigs?”

She glanced up, surprised. “What? No. Why would I do that?”

“Dunno. Thought maybe you’re tryin’ to set me up or somethin’. Cry rape, get me thrown in the slammer for not hirin’ you earlier.”

She frowned. Why would he think that? Did he have a reason to be paranoid? “No, I need music.”

Hitting her music app, she scrolled through, found a song she practiced to a couple of times, turned the volume high, pressed play and tossed it on the nearby couch.

As soon as Gorilla from Bruno Mars started, she closed her eyes and began to move with the music. She followed the rhythm of the song and swung her hips, rocked her shoulders and tossed her head before reaching for the buttons on her blouse. She unfastened a couple but before he could see anything she turned her back on him, continuing to sway and unbutton.

She had to remember to tease, not just get naked. It was the show that men wanted, not just the final result. Or at least that’s what the instructional videos stated.

Sway, sway, circle, circle, flirt, wink, purse your lips, touch yourself.

She tried to remember everything that the videos demonstrated.

She let the music flow through her and take over. When her blouse hung open, she dropped it just slightly down her back and turned her head to look over her shoulder at Dawg.

She pursed her lips and... jerked in surprise when she saw his expression. His eyes were so dark and his jaw tight as he watched her, but he hadn’t moved an inch. In fact, he looked frozen in place. But from where she stood, she could see his chest rising and falling more rapidly than what was normal.

She ignored his reaction, hoping it was good, and turned in place once more, this time facing him when she reached for the top button on her jeans. Once they were loose, she began to tease him by tugging the waistband down one hip to show a little skin, then pulling it back up. She did the same to the other side. Tucking her thumbs into the top of her jeans, she wiggled them down until the top of the sexiest and most expensive Victoria’s Secret panties she owned showed. She circled her hips to the music, then toed her heels off. Taking her time, she revealed her legs little by little until she was bent over, and her jeans pooled at her feet.

Rising slowly, she dragged her hands up her legs as she did so, then, when she was standing straight up, she punted her jeans away. They went flying and struck him smack dab in the center of his bare chest. With a grunt, he caught them and twisted the denim in his fist.

She continued to sway and roll her hips as she pushed her blouse off her shoulders. She shook and shimmied until it dropped to the floor, then suddenly feeling much braver—even though she shouldn’t because she was now standing in front of this big biker in just her bra and panties—she decided to up the ante.

She rocked her hips with exaggeration as she approached him, biting her lip to draw his attention there. And, boy, did it!

He was staring at her mouth as she stepped toe to toe with him. Being that close reminded her how much smaller she was than him, especially since she was now barefoot. She spun around and backed up until her ass was pressed into his crotch and then she ground it in circles as she bent over to grab her ankles.

There was no mistaking that she was affecting him and not in a bad way. That hard line in his jeans couldn’t be anything other than what she should expect from a customer during a personal lap dance, so she had to get used to it.

As she continued to work her ass against him, she reached back and unclipped her bra and let it fall to the floor. When she swung back up as she tossed her hair—she hoped in a sexy fashion—the top of her head cracked him right in the chin.

He grunted and jerked. She winced at the pain, grabbing her head and crying out, “Ow!”

His arm snaked around her waist as he held her up. “Fuck. You okay?”

She tried to turn to face him and put a little distance between them since her ass was still smashed against his searing hot erection, but he wouldn’t loosen his hold.

“I... I think so. You have a hard chin.”

“You gotta hard head, woman.”

She glanced up over her shoulder at him. “Can you let me go?” The heat of his bare chest against the naked skin of her back made a tingle happen in places that have lied dormant for a long time.

“No, ain’t lettin’ you go. Not ‘til I’m ready.”

Something about his words made her think there was more behind their meaning than what was at the surface.

“Aren’t you going to let me finish?”

“What’s to finish? You’re standin’ in just your panties. You gonna pull them off, too?”

“If I have to.”

“Woman,” he said, the impatience thick in his voice. “This ain’t you.”

“But I did a good job, right? I can feel how well I did.” She sure could. He was no small man. Everywhere.

“Got the same thing when you were wearin’ those fuckin’ ugly clothes this mornin’.”

He did? “Is that normal?”

He grunted. “Yeah, I get hard.”

“No, I mean over your dancers.”

“No. Not over my girls.”

“Am I one of your girls?” she whispered, optimism rushing through her.

“Nope.”

All the air fled her as did her last thread of hope. “What did I do wrong this time?”

“Nothin’. Just ain’t for you.”

She jerked against the arm that was holding her like a vice against him. “Let me go.”

She jerked again and when he released her without warning, she stumbled forward. He captured her wrist and pulled her upright before she fell to the floor. Pushing the hair out of her face, she glared up at him. “That’s not your decision.”

“Sure is.”

“No, I mean whether this is for me or not. That isn’t your decision.”

“Yeah. It is.”

Her mouth gaped open at his sheer bossiness. She snapped it shut. “No! I mean... I’ll find somewhere else... another club.”

“No, you won’t.”

She yanked at her wrist. “Why not?”

He pushed off the counter and pulled her to him. “’Cause other clubs don’t give a shit about their girls like I do.”

“Right.”

“Listen, baby girl, this ain’t for you.”

“So you keep saying.”

“I’m right. Been doin’ this a long damn time. You’re clearly outta your element.”

“And you’re wrong.”

He sighed. Then before she could stop him—like she could stop him—he was pulling her over to the living room. He didn’t release her until after he sank onto the couch. As she stood in between his parted knees, she stared at him in confusion.

“Show me,” he demanded.

“Show you what?”

“Just plunked down five big ones for you to get me off. Gotta get me off without having sex with me. Can you do it?”

Huh? This wasn’t on any of the videos! “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I thought...”

“Need money so bad... this is what ya gotta do. Big spenders don’t wanna just see you shake your tits an’ ass. They wanna get somethin’ out of it. Can’t get paid for sex, though. Gotta ride that fine line if you know what I mean.”

Oh Lord, she knew what he meant. She not only had to turn a customer on but appease him in ways that wasn’t illegal if she wanted to bank a lot of money and do it quickly.

She closed her eyes and sucked a deep breath through her nostrils to calm her racing heart.

She could do this. She had to do this. She had no choice but to do this.

Right?

“So I can’t touch you?”

“Can fuckin’ touch me as much as you like, baby girl, but not in a way that could be seen as sexual contact. Means no suckin’, no fuckin’, an’ no jerkin’ ‘em off. They gotta keep their clothes on. Yours are optional. You can touch ‘em, they can’t touch you. They do, dance ends immediately. Got someone right outside the door for each private dance. You yell, they’re bustin’ in there an’ bustin’ heads. Got me?

She nodded, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth.

“Damn, baby girl, keep doin’ that an’ you won’t have to do much dancin’. Now do it or get out.”

She grabbed her phone, which was on the cushion next to him, found another song and hit play.

Once again, Dawg knew he was going to regret this decision. He shouldn’t have let her into his place. He shouldn’t have let her take her fucking clothes off. And now she stood before him only wearing panties, her tits all up in his face, her blonde hair falling past her shoulders, color in her damn cheeks and biting on that fucking goddamn lip.

His nostrils flared, picking up her flowery scent.

He was a stupid fuck. That’s what he was. Why was he putting himself through this torture? Even with the few hours of practice she said she did, she still sucked at it and normally he would never hire someone like her. He wasn’t fucking around when he said she was out of her element.

And though his brain kept telling him to kick her the hell out and stop wasting his time, his dick kept telling him otherwise. And, fuck, those tits of hers... and that mouth!

He wanted those pretty little lips wrapped around his rock-hard dick.

“I can touch you?” she asked again.

Fuck yes. “Yeah. Just can’t grab my dick with your hands.”

“But I can touch it with other things?”

Oh fuck yes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, so he could answer. “Yeah. But don’t gotta do it, baby girl. Can put on your clothes an’ leave.”

She shook her head. “No, I want this.”

His dick kicked in his pants and his balls got tight. Fuck! He wanted this, too.

“Don’t got all day, baby girl. Gotta get downstairs to work.”

She nodded, then moved. He slammed back into the couch in surprise when she climbed onto his lap and began to grind her ass against his dick.

Holy mother fuck.

“Baby girl...” he tried to say, but it came out more like a moan.

“Yeah?” she whispered into his ear, brushing her hard nipples against his chest.

“Fuck, baby girl...”

“Yeah?” She circled her hips above his. “You like that?”

Who the fuck was this woman? Was this some sort of trick?

“Yeah, I like.” And against his better judgment, again, he urged her, “Get me off.” He didn’t think she could do it. She didn’t seem skilled enough. Because of that and because he was a stupid fuck he continued, “Get me off without usin’ your hands an’ I’ll hire you.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath close to his ear. “Deal,” she breathed as she continued to grind her hot, panty-covered pussy against his lap.

Her hands roamed over his chest, the pads of her thumbs brushing over his nipples as her hot, little mouth pressed against his ear. “You like that. I feel how hard I make you. I like it, too. I bet you want to taste how wet I am, don’t you?”

FUCK!

She did not learn that from a how-to-strip video. No fucking way!

His dick kicked in his jeans, and the precum leaked out even faster.

He lost his breath when she whispered, “You want to stick that cock into my hot, tight pussy, don’t you?”

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

He swallowed so he could tell her to get off him, that this was over. He was done because even though he was attracted to her, he didn’t expect her to take him to his knees as much as she was at the moment.

“Tell me what you want to do to me...” she whispered in her honeyed husky voice. And that just pulled his balls up higher and tighter.

She might do it.

She just might make him come in his jeans! He was usually immune to this shit because he saw it day in and day out. But this woman...

“Tell me,” she urged. “You want to bend me over and smack my ass while you’re fucking me doggy-style?”

Fuck yes, he did.

“You want to...” she pressed her lips to his neck and licked down his throat.

He shuddered before he could stop it. “Fuck, baby girl,” he groaned.

“Is that what you want to do, big boy? Fuck?”

She kept rocking on his lap, drawing her hot pussy back and forth over his throbbing dick.

He was about to blow his load in his jeans.

His blood deprived brain made him confess, “Yeah, wanna fuck.”

“Me, too,” she whispered, her breathing shallow, her nipples pebbled hard as they pressed into his bare skin.

Was she really turned on or just playing? There was no way she wanted him to fuck her.

His brain started to spin, once again thinking that this was some sort of trap. Blackmail. The Shadow Warriors MC setting him up for a hurting. Something.

He grabbed two handfuls of her hair and yanked her head back, so he could see her face. Her eyes were shuttered, her mouth parted, and a flush ran from her chest, up her neck and into her cheeks.

“You turned on, baby girl?”

“Y-yes.”

Damn. “You wet?”

She stopped rocking her pussy against him long enough to lean back and show him the dark line that ran up the center of her panties. The line she traced with her own finger. “Yes.”

The musky smell of her arousal made his nostrils flare. Fuck!

“You don’t fuck customers,” he reminded her. And himself.

No, his girls did not fuck his customers. And Dawg didn’t fuck his girls.

He had to get her off his lap. Get her dressed. Get her out of his apartment. And he had to do it soon because this was not how an audition was supposed to go.

Her voice was husky and thick when she declared, “You’re not a customer.”

“What’re you sayin’?” She needed to spell it out loud and clear what she wanted. He was not ending up in a concrete box for doing something without her A-Okay.

No pussy was worth that.

He jerked her hair again, making her concentrate on him as he stared into her unfocused eyes. “Emma, gotta tell me this ain’t a fuckin’ game, an’ you want me to fuck you. Need to say it out loud an’ need to be sure one hundred fuckin’ percent. Got me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he barked louder than he should have. But his blood was rushing in his ears, his dick was ready to blow, and his balls were in pain, needing a release.

“I need you to fuck me,” she whispered, reaching between them and stroking his dick over his jeans.

What happened to the woman that came to the club this morning? The woman currently on his lap was not her. Not even close.

“Ain’t on drugs, right?”

She shook her head, even though he still had a tight grip on her hair. “No.”

“Ain’t drunk, right?”

“No.”

“You wanna fuck me?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing her hair, he wrapped one arm around her waist, tucked one under her ass and pushed to his feet. He strode down the hallway, kicked open his bedroom door and dropped her onto his bed.

“Last chance, Emma. Gonna fuck a biker. Don’t want you to regret it afterward. Got me? Don’t wanna be one of your mistakes.”

“I want this.”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, knowing this was a bad idea. But even with his eyes closed he couldn’t get rid of the image of her in the middle of his bed, naked except for those soaked panties, blonde hair wild, eyelids heavy with need.

“Hurry,” she encouraged.

Ah, fuck. This was going to go sideways. He just knew it.

He shoved his jeans down and stepped out of them, then climbed onto the mattress, staring down at the blonde vision sprawled on his bed.

His fucking bed. A girl-next-door, innocent-looking kindergarten teacher who did not belong there. She was no sweet butt or patch whore.

He shook his head to try to clear it. “You do this, you ain’t gettin’ this job. It’s either dick or dancin’. Pick one. ‘Cause I don’t fuck my girls.”

“I need the job.”

“Think you need dick, too.”

“Yes,” she hissed. “But I need the job more.”

“Then we ain’t doin’ this.”

“No!” she cried and reached out a hand to him. “I need this, too. I swear.”

“Emma, look at me. Really fuckin’ look.” He rose up onto his knees between her calves, and he flung his arms out wide. “I’m a biker who runs a strip joint. Got tats over the majority of my body. Fuckin’ curse an’ drink an’ sometimes smoke a joint. Don’t make a decision you’re gonna regret later. Like I said, don’t wanna be some bitch’s mistake.”

She pushed up to her elbows and let her gaze run over his body from the top of his head all the way to his knees. “Dawson, I see who you are. I want this. I’m not asking for anything but this moment.”

Dawg’s nostrils flared, and he gave her a sharp nod. His eyes dropped to her parted thighs and that telling sign of just how wet she was.

He wasn’t afraid of much but there was something about this woman that scared the shit out of him. She might not regret what they were about to do, but he might.

“You touch yourself?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

“You get off when you do it?”

“Yes.”

He wanted to rip her panties off, but the doubt wouldn’t leave the back of his mind. She needed to do it. Not him. “Panties off. Wanna see your pussy.”

Lifting her hips, she pushed her panties down, then shoved them the rest of the way off with one of her feet. She cocked her knees and spread them.

He had been fucking wrong. This woman had no bush. Not even close. Smooth pink lips taunted him. And he wanted to tongue that little patch of blonde hair above them.

“Do you want me to touch myself now?”

Fuck yeah! “No.” Dawg swore that was the hardest thing he’d ever said in his life.

But he had something else planned instead, and he was already teetering on the edge. Watching her finger her own pussy would just make him pop a nut before they even got started.

Instead he asked, “Like beards?”

“No.”

“Gonna like ‘em after this.” With that, he dove forward, shoving his face between her thighs. After a quick inhale of her sweet fucking scent, he latched his mouth onto her clit and sucked hard.

She cried out as her hips shot off the bed. Separating her pussy with two fingers in a V, he ate her like a melting soft-serve ice cream cone.

She tasted just as good as one, too.

She was pink, hot, and slick. He barely paid attention to her loud moans and encouragement. Her fingers dug painfully into his hair and she shoved his face deeper into her pussy, grinding her hips against his face until her juices coated his lips and beard.

Yeah, that was exactly how he fucking liked it.

Holding her folds open with one hand, he shoved two fingers of the other deep inside her. Fuck. She was tight with just his fingers. When she clamped down around him, he just about lost his load on the bedspread.

He needed to be inside her, and he needed to be there right now. He plunged his fingers in and out of her a couple more times and with a last lick to her clit, he rose above her.

“Like beards?” he asked again.

“Yes,” she breathed.

A smile pulled at his lips. “This is all gonna be on you, baby girl. Wanna know you want it every step of the way. The minute you don’t want it, we’re stoppin’, got me?”

“Yes.”

“Get a wrap outta my drawer.”

Her head tilted in the direction of the nightstand. “A wrap?” she repeated confused.

“Yeah. For my dick.”

She rolled onto her side far enough to be able to reach the nightstand and pull the drawer open.

“Careful of the gun. It’s loaded, one in the fuckin’ chamber.”

She yanked her hand back as if something burned her and turned wide sky-blue eyes to him.

“Just be careful. Grab a wrap.”

She rose up enough to peek into the drawer, then tentatively put her hand in and pulled out a condom. She rolled back into place, holding the wrapper up. “Now what?”

“Ain’t a virgin, right?”

“No.”

“Then roll that on my dick.”

“You want me to do it?”

“Fuck yes.” He was going to make her drive this whole fucking thing, so she knew how real this was going to be. The second that reality hit her, and she wanted him to stop, he was doing just that and kicking her right out the fucking door.

She rolled up to a seated position, ripped open the wrapper, and when she fisted her hot little hand around the root of his dick, he almost fell apart.

Damn.

She rolled the wrap down his length and tossed the wrapper off the bed onto the floor. He smirked. Hell fuckin’ yeah.

As she was rolling back, he stopped her. “No.” He shifted to his ass. “Fuckin’ teased me with that lap dance. Now you’re gonna do it again with nothin’ but the wrap between us. Got me?”

She smiled and moved close enough where he could grab her and pull her onto his thighs.

“All you, baby girl. Show me how much you want this.”

She circled one arm around his neck, shoving her hand into his hair at the back of his head. Holding his dick in her other hand, she rose up, positioned herself until the tip of his dick was tucked between her hot pussy lips and, in one move, sank down.

“Fuck. Me,” he groaned, fighting the urge to shoot his load immediately into her tight, hot snatch.

“I am.”

“Not what I meant, but we’ll go with it.”

As she rose and fell on him, the hard tips of her nipples dragged along his skin and he wanted them in his mouth, but she was too short for him to reach comfortably. Instead, with one hand on her ass guiding her up and down his pole, he snagged one of her nipples between his fingers and twisted. Her back arched, then she fell forward with a groan, crushing her lips to his.

Shoving her tongue into his mouth, she kissed him so hard, so deeply, that he swore she tickled his tonsils. But he wasn’t complaining. He certainly fucking wasn’t. He shoved back, pushing his tongue into her mouth instead, tasting every inch of her and letting her taste herself on his tongue. He trailed his fingers down the smooth skin of her back until he got to the cleft in her ass, then he dipped them lower, brushing across a place he wanted to explore at a later time. However, now wasn’t it.

No way was he lasting much longer.

As she rode him hard, her pussy clenched and squeezed him until his brain turned to mush.

And the intense urge to make her his hit him in the gut.

With a grunt, he used his weight to roll her onto her back and he took over, slamming her hard, snagging a nipple in his mouth, sucking, flicking, scraping his teeth over one tip then the other.

She wiggled, screamed and called out his real name, spurring him on to take her harder and faster. When her legs wrapped around his hips, he slipped his hands under her ass and lifted her up enough so he could drive deep and hit her just right.

Then she exploded around him, clawing his back as she cried out, her body convulsing around him, trying to draw him deeper. He gritted his teeth, so he’d at least last until her orgasm was over, but it took every inch of willpower he had.

When she cried out, “Again!” he shook his head.

“Can’t, baby girl... Can’t...”

With one last thrust, he captured her mouth once more and his load shot out of him with such force that he swore he saw stars.

He broke their kiss so he could suck in some much needed oxygen and stared down into the face that would change his fucking life.

He just knew it.

And he wasn’t sure he was happy about it, either.