Page 15 of Hard Ride
But no, I can’t think like that, I can’teverthink like that. He was hot back then, and he’s even hotter now, but he’s Tate’s friend and I’m not getting all tangled up in that again.
Except I can’t stop looking at him as he gazes down at Cherry. The lines of his fallen-angel face are hard, the authority radiating from him palpable. Even in the dim lighting, I can see the threads of gold in his hair. And no matter how hard I pretend I’m unaffected, a small part of me shakes, my heartbeat sounding loud in my ears.
Lucas points to a spot on the floor, and Cherry moves over to it, and kneels.
“You see how she’s kneeling for him?” Tate murmurs, sounding even closer. “She’s given him the control, and now it’s his job to make her feel good. She doesn’t have to do a thing. The cuffs are for her pleasure, because she likes restraints.”
I want to say ‘how nice for her’ but I’m suddenly aware of Tate’s aftershave. It’s dark, masculine, bergamot, and somethingelse, like cedar, and I find myself wondering what it is, because it’s delicious. Ten years ago, he used to smell of engine oil, sun, and clean male sweat, and I loved it just as much.
In the room beyond, Lucas is shrugging out of his jacket and laying it carefully on the bed. Then he undoes his cuffs one by one, rolling up his sleeves to expose his muscled forearms. Every movement unhurried and precise, and almost unbearably sexy. There are stars tattooed the length of one forearm, and a dark mandala on the other, with flowers woven into it, and it flows down his wrist and onto the back of his hand. It’s beautiful.
Those tattoos are new. He didn’t have them ten years ago, at least, and I wish I felt nothing at all about them, about him. I wish I didn’t think they were beautiful, that he was beautiful, and most especially, I wish there wasn’t this heat that’s burning inside me now.
“You can ask questions.” Tate’s deep voice is soft and close. “You can ask me anything you like.”
I swallow yet again, trying to get some moisture into my dry mouth, attempting once more to be cool and in control. “Why is she kneeling?” It’s the first question that comes into my head.
“Because he told her to. She doesn’t have to do anything or think about anything. All she has to do is obey him.”
“Seems wrong,” I say, even as I’m aware of a growing pressure between my thighs.
Tate only laughs, soft and deep, and knowing. It makes my face heat, and I hope desperately that he can’t see it. I don’t want him to know that this is affecting me in any way.
Lucas goes over to where Cherry is kneeling and looks down at her. His hands move to his belt, and he slowly unbuckles it. They’re side on to the window, so I can see her face, and while her attention is on the floor, her whole body is quivering.
“If you’re wondering, she’s not trembling because she’s afraid,” Tate says, his voice sounding even closer. “She’s just extremely turned on right now.”
I’m not wondering. I know she’s turned on, because I can feel the same quiver inside me. I want to fight it. Push it away somehow. It reminds me of things I’d rather stay forgotten.
Lucas unbuttons his pants and pulls the zipper down, and everything in me draws tight. Oh, God. Does he know that I’m watching him right now? That I’m right here on the other side of this window? But of course, he does. Tate must have asked him to give me a demonstration, and that’s why he’s not looking our way. He must hate this, surely.
But you don’t.
I want to. I really, really want to. I want to turn and walk back through the doorway and get out of this club. Feel the humid, summer night air on my face, instead of watching Lucas Thorne.
But I can’t bring myself to move as he reaches down and pulls his cock out, and I go still. It’s long, thick, and very hard, and the way he’s holding it, gripping it in his large, tattooed fist, is so incredibly sexy I can’t breathe.
Years ago, when I’d first met Tate and Lucas, and it was the three of us against the world, I used to have dirty fantasies about both of them. I was seeing Tate at the time, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Lucas. Couldn’t stop thinking about what it might be like to do the same things Tate and I did, but with him.
It was wrong then, and it’s wrong now, but still, my heartbeat is so loud I’m sure Tate will hear it, so I try to school my expression. Make it as blank as I can. To not let on in any way that Lucas is turning me on.
He gives another order, and Cherry comes into an upright kneeling position, lifting her head and opening her mouth. He guides his cock between her lips, all his attention is on her, and he says something, making her gaze lift. Again, I feel that charge,their eye contact electric. Then he pushes his hands into her hair and grips it tight, using it to guide her head as he begins to thrust into her mouth.
My face is on fire. I can’t believe I’m still watching. No matter how many times I tell myself it’s just sex, no big deal, I’m increasingly unable to ignore the throb between my legs. I’m also conscious of the cotton of my bra pressing against my hardening nipples and no amount of thinking it’s just the temperature makes any difference. Because it’s not the temperature, and I know that.
Cherry’s mouth is stretched wide around Lucas’s cock, and his hands in her hair must hurt. He’s pushing deeper, yet keeping his thrusts slow and deliberate, as if he’s coaxing her to take more of him, and I can’t stop staring at her face. At the way she’s looking up at him, eyes wide, as if he’s God himself.
I know how Tate tasted. He used to love it when I took him in my mouth. But now I’m helplessly wondering how Lucas tastes. Would he look at me the way he’s looking at Cherry? Would I look at him the way she’s looking at him?
“Do you remember doing this with me?” Tate murmurs in my ear. He’s not beside me now, but behind me. I can feel the heat of his body against my back, the scent of him all around me. “I remember,” he goes on, his voice almost hypnotic. “You had the hottest mouth. I could have fucked it forever.”
A shiver passes over my skin. I do remember. He taught me how to do it and showed me exactly what he liked. He preferred me like Cherry, on my knees at his feet, but I didn’t like kneeling for him. It felt subservient and humiliating, but the worst part was how much it turned me on.
Abruptly, Lucas pulls out of Cherry’s mouth. He’s still hard, but he tucks himself away as if he isn’t. She’s looking up at him, and if I’m not much mistaken, the expression on her face is a pleading one. He shakes his head, and she says something inreturn, making him crouch down in front of her. He takes her chin in his hand, still making that electric eye contact, and he’s telling her something that makes her tremble.
I’m trembling too, and if I’m not careful, it’s going to become next to impossible to hide. Tate feels like a giant at my back, his dark presence surrounding me. He’s not touching me, and yet I’m acutely conscious of him.
You want him to push you up against the wall.
