CHAPTER SIX
His honey girl was quiet on the ride back to the Pine Cabins.
But when T looked over at her, she was relaxed, smiling and bobbing her head to the beat of Clare Dunn's country song, about how her guy didn't need no tuxedo to look good.
T wasn't into girl artists as a rule, but this song was a winner in his book.
He was a tee-shirt, leather club cut and work pants man himself, and more likely to be wearing boots than any other foot-gear. Steel-toed work boots, motorcycle boots and western boots, all good.
Anything else, questionable. Shiny dress shoes like a man would wear with a fancy tux, hell-to-the-fuck no.
But Manda seemed to like him this way just fine. She hadn't even hesitated when she invited him back to her cabin.
Although, dancing for a while would've been okay with him too. Nothin' like a slow dance for a chance to snuggle a pretty woman in close, feel her titties up against his chest, and maybe get his hands on her ass.
In a nice way, of course, 'cause the Roadhouse was not the Flyers' club house.
His cock liked the idea of holding her, a lot. Looking forward to filling his hands with her ass and his mouth with her nipples had his pants feeling too tight. Hell, he was gonna have the imprint of his zipper on the underside of his unit if he didn't get them both naked soon.
They rolled along the highway among the flow of Saturday evening traffic in a small town, then turned off the highway and headed north through the dense darkness of the forest.
There was a lonely yard light on at the Pine Cabins, and as they passed, the flicker of a big screen TV in the first cabin by the office. Looked like Faro was there. That was good. When T left, Manda wouldn't be out here alone—not that the place itself was anything to shout about.
He frowned to himself as he pulled the truck to a stop and turned off the engine. He wanted to fuck her bad, but he also wanted to ask her if she was gonna be okay out here in this rundown, nearly empty place.
Like a fancy gold earring dropped on the oil-stained floor of JJ's Auto, she just didn't belong here.
Hell, he wouldn't fuck the kinda woman who did belong here. He might be a horny biker, but he wasn't desperate.
"T-Bear?" she asked, her soft voice breaking the silence. "Is something wrong? You don't have to come in if you don't want to."
"Huh?" He looked to her, his truck door already wide open. She looked worried, a little embarrassed, like she didn't know what to think. "Hell, yeah, I wanna come in."
He hurried around and helped her down, then waited as she unlocked the door and let them both in. The cabin was warmer than it had been before, but now it smelled of scorched dust from the cheap space heater glowing by the wall.
"Sorry, honey girl, didn't mean to ruin the mood. I just don't like this dump," he told her, shutting the door behind them. "No place for a fine woman like you."
She turned to him, and gave him another pretty smile, her brown eyes warm. "Thanks. But don't worry, I'm not staying here much longer." She shook her head, her silky hair swinging around her face, a strand catching on her glossy lips.
T moved in and reached to brush the strand away with one forefinger. Her skin and hair were so silky and warm, he had to touch more of her. He slid his hand around to cup the side of her throat under her hair, his thumb brushing over her pulse at the edge of her jaw.
She was soft, delicate and warm under his big paw, but the sparkle in her eyes said she was spirited too.
Course maybe that was just the three drinks she'd consumed—wasn't like he was much of a judge of women.
"You're not stayin' around, huh?" he asked. "Then I best get me some honey before it's gone."
She giggled softly, her hands on his chest. They felt good there, although too much fabric between him and her. "That's right," she said, tipping her head to give him a flirty look from under her lashes. "'Cause I'll be gone before you can say 'Where'd she go?' And then you'll have to..."
T didn’t hear where she was going with that, ‘cause he shut her up with a kiss.
He wasn't in the habit of kissing women, mainly because the women who hung around the Flyers' clubhouse and partied with them were as likely to smoke as not. Thus, their breath often smelled of cigarettes or weed, and of too much booze. Or for some of the really wild ones, even another man's cum.
But this woman smelled sweet, and the only thing on her breath was that fancy drink of hers. Fresh, healthy woman laced with lime and a little rum.
So he ducked in and shut her up with his mouth on hers. Her lips were pillowy and parted on a gasp when he sucked on the bottom one. With a happy groan he nudged her lips apart, and tasted her. Her tongue curled around his, and she leaned against him, her fingers curling tight in his shirt.
Oh, yeah. Now that's what he was talkin' about. Her, he wanted to kiss.
Doing so with enthusiasm, T slid one hand down the curve of her back to her ass, and filled his hands with the lush curves. Oh, nice handfuls, the way he'd known they would be. He gave her a squeeze and pulled her in tight. Her breasts pillowed against his hard abdomen, and his cock prodded against the slight curve of her belly.
She made a startled sound in her throat, and her short nails dug into his chest, little stings that did nothing to quell the sheer lust roaring through him.
Fuck, she smelled so good, like clean woman and the faint flowery scent of shampoo or whatever. She tasted good, her mouth warm and wet and sweet.
And the way she felt in his arms, so lithe and soft and yet strong, the essential contradiction of a healthy, young female. Bet her pussy would be even wetter. If not, he hoped she had lube, 'cause he was a big man, and his cock was hard as a railroad spike.
"You okay?" he asked, just in case those nails of hers were trying to let him know to ease up, or back off.
"Mm-hmm," she murmured, her heavy eyes on his lips. "I really like the way your beard and 'stache feel on my skin. Tickles."
"Glad you like it," he muttered, his mind on getting her dress off of her.
He kissed her again, and moved them toward the bed, although he was so ready he could take her right here, right now, standing up. Hell, he could just tell her to wrap her legs around his hips, rut into the soft furrow between her thighs, and cum like a teenage boy.
He had plans, he reminded himself desperately. Plans for which he'd paid good money, and which he'd had plenty of time to refine since then. Especially once he sat across from her at dinner, and watched her slide food in through those soft, pillowy, peach lips, and listened to her hum with pleasure as she licked a stray drop of ranch dip off her lip.
"Oh!" she said as the bed hit her in back of her knees. Her eyes opened, and she gave him a shy, pleased look that made his balls draw up tight, ready to blow. Like she was so into their kiss she hadn't even noticed him getting her to the bed.
He fumbled for the zipper at the back of her dress, and found none. "How's this thing open up?"
"I can just pull it off over my head." She grasped the hem and pulled up. T took a step back and fumbled with the snaps on his shirt, watching raptly as she shimmied her hips in a sexy little move.
Her dress rose to her waist, and he nearly swallowed his tongue . Oh, mama. Those legs just got better and better as they went up. Round, full hips, a sweet little belly, covered only by a pair of tiny white panties, half of them lace.
Her mons played peek-a-boo through the lace as she tugged the dress farther up, revealing the lithe dip of her waist, and then her ribs.
She ducked one shoulder, her elbow going down into the body of the dress. With one of those complicated wriggles only females are capable of performing, she pulled the dress up, her other arm came free, and she drew the dress over her head.
With a shy glance at him, she moved to lay the dress over the back of the nearest chair.
And there she stood, in high-heeled booties, white lace bikini panties and a bra that was more of a tease than anything.
Her titties weren't big, but they were round and sweet, and topped with tight, peachy nipples poking out at him through white lace. T’s mouth watered, and he calculated his chances of getting a taste of them before shooting his load just from that.
Nope, he had to get inside her before he did anything else. Then, later they'd have plenty of time to play. He'd get that blow job he so desperately wanted, and maybe a taste of her too. See if she tasted as sweet and naughty in her panties as he fantasized. Although he might should ask to see her latest med checkup first. Even a gorgeous woman could carry the herp, or worse. So, no oral, and he'd suit up, but dang, he was sorry to miss out on that.
With one jerk, he ripped his shirt open, shrugged it off and threw it behind him. Still gazing at her, he reached behind his head and grabbed a handful of tee, then yanked it off over his head and tossed it after his shirt.
Her eyes widened, and her lips rounded in a luscious 'o'. She gazed at his bare torso in a way that had him wanting to tip back his head and howl to the wintry moon and stars. Fuck, that look made him feel proud as an NFL quarterback and action movie star rolled into one.
As if looking at her wasn't enough for a man.
She stepped closer, her gaze on his ink. With Herculean effort, he forced himself to stand still while she reached up to touch the tattoo that covered the ball of his right shoulder, and ran down the outside of his upper arm, also taking in the ball of his elbow. Her fingers were cool and soft.
"This is so cool," she told him. "I love the color. What is it?"
He liked it himself. Instead of black or dark blue, his ink was copper-brown. The design was bold, tribal. And completely abstract.
"Some people think it's a warrior's helmet and a mythical creature up there, threatening him," he said. "Could be, I guess. I just liked it."
And now he was done talking about it. They had things to do. He reached for the fastening of his jeans, looking her over.
"Thought you were pretty with your clothes on," he managed, pulling down his zipper while he kicked off one of his boots, then the other. Thank Jesus for cowboy boots—no laces. He jerked his chin to her. "Turn around, would ya?"
She honest-to-God blushed, her face and the top of her chest turning a rosy peach. But she nodded, and turned gracefully on one foot, pausing with her back to him. She peered at him over her shoulder, and cocked her hip. "Like this?"
"Yeah," he said hoarsely, his gaze on her ass. "Like that."
He shoved his pants down, and his cock sprang free, a blessed relief. T kicked his pants off and then stood there, giving his cock a soothing stroke as he admired her. A heart-shaped ass, that's what she had. Lush, full and round. His cock jerked in his grasp as he pictured what he'd do next.
She made a small sound, and his gaze flew up to see her staring at his cock over her shoulder, eyes wider than before. "Oh, my God," she breathed. "You're—that's really big."
He grinned, and swiveled his hips, thrusting his cock at her. "Yeah, it is. You gonna cover it in honey for me?"
She looked up to meet his gaze, and gave him a look that was pure devil. "I don't know. Think you can make it worth my time?"
"Oh, yeah," he promised, moving toward her. "That, I can do."
And somehow, promising a whore he'd make her happy instead of just telling her what to do to make him happy seemed like the best idea he'd had in a long time.
He moved in close enough that his cock brushed against her ass, teasing his sensitive flesh with satin skin and the tickle of lace. Setting his hands on her waist, he squeezed gently, and bent his head to nuzzle her nape, drawing in her scent and enjoying the slip of her hair against his beard.
"Take your bra off for me," he told her, looking over her shoulder at the swell of her breasts in the white lace.
She obeyed him with a shiver of what felt like pleasure. Unfastening the bra with a flick of her fingers between her breasts, she pulled it slowly open, and then shrugged her shoulders to let it fall back and down.
The scrap of lace caught on his cock, and he stared, mesmerized by the sight of his shaft, flushed and angry, the purplish head now shrouded coyly in one of her bra cups. It was obscene and totally hot.
He filed that in his spank bank, and got back to the real woman in his grasp.
"Damn, I was gonna have you suck me," he told her, "But I'm thinkin' I can't wait to get inside you."