Page 17 of Protected By the Bikers Next Door
“Yes, calm down, Rambo. I was just coming to get a glass of water,” she teases lightly, though I feel guilty that I’ve scared her.
I follow her into the kitchen, watching the way her hips sway as she walks barefoot. She’s wearing a thin pair of well-worn sleep shorts and a tank, her nipples visible through the fabric. Her hair is mussed from sleep, her face devoid of makeup. As I watch her pour a glass of water, the moonlight dancing across her pale skin, I think she’s never looked more attractive. She’s a goddess.
“Can’t sleep either?” she asks, flicking on a light switch below the cabinets and turning to face me as she leans against the counter, one leg crossed in front of the other.
“I wouldn’t be a very good watcher if I slept on the job,” I remark with a small smile. “What’s keeping you up?”
“I keep thinking…” she starts before catching herself, a blush creeping up her chest.
“About?”
“Things I shouldn’t.” She looks at me, and I know that she’s thought about me in that way. That I’m not alone in my attraction. I step forward, to do what, I’m not quite sure, but she changes the subject. “There’s no sign of him? Out there?” she asks, jerking her head toward the window. There’s no need for her to say who; we both know she’s talking about her stalker, even if she doesn’t like to use the word.
I shake my head. “No. If he’s smart, he won’t come near here while we’re around.”
“I keep wondering who it could be… who would want to terrorize me like this.”
“If it’s any consolation, I doubt that he knows that’s what he’s doing. Stalkers don’t tend to realize how unhealthy their behavior is. The sicko probably thinks he’s being romantic.”
She shudders. “Somehow, that makes it worse. But I doubt it’s that kind of stalker. I’m hardly the kind of woman that a man would fall so madly in love with from looks alone that he stalks her.”
“Why do you do that?” I ask angrily, stepping closer to her. I itch to reach out and take her in my arms, but I hold myself back.
“Do what?” she asks, not meeting my eye.
“Put yourself down. Don’t you realize the effect you have on men? How beautiful you are.” Fury rages inside of me at whoever made her feel this way.
Her breath hitches, and she looks at me, a mixture of pleasure and mistrust on her face. “That’s sweet of you to say, but I’m not sure many would agree with you.”
“Like who? Give me one example,” I challenge, not willing to back down.
“My ex. He said that no one else would want me. I’ve been alone for so long, it’s hard not to think he’s right,” she says, her voice small.
“He’s a fucking idiot,” I growl, closing the gap between us. He must be if he was foolish enough to let a woman like Harper get away. “And he’s wrong.”
Flustered, Harper backs up against the fridge, chest heaving, pupils dilated. I know she wants me, too, even if she won’t admit it. “I should go back to bed,” she says unconvincingly.
“Should you?” I say, my eyes meeting hers, a challenge, a request. If she doesn’t want me, doesn’t want this, all she needs to do is say the word, and I’ll back off.
“Wolf,” she murmurs, her lips parted. My cock hardens at the breathy way she says my name.
“Tell me to stop, Harper. Tell me you don’t want this,” I murmur, pressing my body against hers and feeling the warm softness of her.
“I can’t,” she admits.
I kiss her, and without hesitation, she kisses me back. Her lips taste like cherry pie and toothpaste. The kiss is explosive, weeks’ worth of tension erupting in one moment. I lift her up, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the counter and sit her on it. I stand between her thighs, kissing down her neck into the soft slope of her cleavage.
“Fuck, your body was made for sin,” I remark as my greedy hands caress her soft skin, worshipping her curves. “So fucking perfect,” I say as I slip her shorts off to reveal her panties. I notice a small wet patch that makes my cock twitch and my ego swell; she’s as turned on as I am.
“Wait,” she whispers, pulling away and reaching for the light switch.
I grab her hand, gently bringing it to my lips. “Don’t. I want to see you. All of you.”
She gulps, nodding nervously. I make sure to show her exactly how much she turns me on. I take my time removing her clothing. I strip down to my boxers first, leveling the playing field before removing her tank to reveal perfect rosebud nipples that harden under my touch. She moans as I take her breast in my mouth, reaching down to stroke my hardening cock through my boxers.
I tear off her panties, feeling the slickness between her thighs. “You’re so fucking wet,” I groan.
I wish I could take my time to worship her body properly, but we’re both too hungry with need. The animalistic part of us takes over as she pulls down my boxers and guides my cock to her slit. “Fuck me,” she moans, and I’m lost.
