Page 4 of Craving the Bad Boy

Her eyes flicker. She can’t hide that she feels special I remembered her name. But that same hesitation from last night reappears. Only it’s slightly different. She doesn’t look like she wants to pull away or hide. She looks like she wants to give in. Submit.

“You’re still here,” I say, my lips twisting into a crooked grin. “Shouldn’t a good girl like you be somewhere else?”

Tammy giggles softly but not uncomfortably. I can tell she’s still unsure if she should be feeling anything for me. She’s fighting her instincts but losing the battle.

“I dunno.” She shrugs, her voice barely a whisper. Christ, she’s gorgeous. “Maybe I don’twantto be somewhere else.”

That’s it.

That’s all I needed.

I move in, closing the distance between us, and reach my hand out to tuck a loose strand of her delicate hair behind her ear, letting the backs of my fingers brush against her soft skin. A soft, feminine gasp escapes her lips at my touch, and I see a shiver rush through her body.

I lean in even closer, sweeping my lips against the lobe of her ear. I whisper, “I know you don’t, Tammy. You want to be right here with me.”

She doesn’t pull back. Hell, she doesn’t even flinch. And it’s right then that I know she’s mine.

I move quickly as I go around the counter and take her by the hand. She gasps as I lead her out the front door and into the parking lot. My cock is swollen and hard, pressing painfully against the fly of my jeans. Desire and lust rage through me in a way I’ve never experienced.

I can’t explain how she’s doing it, but I want Tammy more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.

“Where are you taking me?” she whispers as I lift her onto the back of my bike, throw my leg over the saddle, and kick the engine to life.

“Away” is the only response I give her.

This is no time for talking. I’m too focused. Driven by pure, animalistic desire as I speed out of the lot, a smile twisting over my lips as Tammy throws her arms around my waist, hanging on for dear life.

My bike’s engine growls beneath me, sending vibrations through my spine as I speed down the winding road. Tammy clutches me tightly, her young perky tits pressed against my back. Every curve of her body is like an injection of fuel to my already overheating core, reminding me of just how desperately I crave her.

She’s everything I never knew I needed and more.

And I don’t know how I’ll ever get enough of her.

The warm wind slashes at my cheeks, feeding the fire racing through my veins. I can feel her body heat searing through the tough leather of my jacket. Every twist we take causes her flesh to shift against mine, sending sparks through me and causing my blood to race even faster. I smell her scent–her pheromones that I was nearly drunk on last night. They overtake my senses, driving me manic with unhinged lust. They’re silky sweet, like the rain of a summer storm that I’d happily drown in.

I rev the throttle harder, pushing the bike past its limit, trying to outrun my overpowering desire for her.

Tammy.

The only thought in my mind.

Tammy…

I hear her sharp intake of breath as I pull the bike into a hard right off the road and speed through the trees, branches and brush whipping past us until the hidden road opens up and reveals the lake, cool and blue beneath the moonlight.

Only I know about this secret spot.

Myspot. But tonight, I’m going to do something I’ve never done before: I’m going to bring someone else here and let them see it too.

My thirst for Tammy is threatening to choke the breath from me. I bring the bike to a slow halt and lean it over, kill the engine, and turn to face her. And that’s when I see it. The same hunger I saw last night. The same hunger now raging in my chest. I take her small, soft hand in mine and pull her close. The spark between us is undeniable.

I step off the bike, my head swimming and my legs unsteady from the rush of the moment. I’ve never felt this way before. I should feel guarded. Reserved. But with Tammy, I don’t care. Iwantto feel this way with her.

I press her down onto her back so she’s reclined fully on the seat of my bike, and she offers no resistance. The hem of hershirt pulls up just enough so I can see the skin of her sculpted midsection, a work of art like a piece of marble cut by a master sculptor.

The top button of her jeans is just begging to be undone, and my hunger for her has reached a critical threshold. My need for her is wild and urgent, like she’s going to disappear if I don’t have hernow.My hands are all over her face, her waist. I lift her shirt and expose her breasts—perfect perky teardrops with hard little pink nipples.

Her body quivers beneath my touch.

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