Page 66 of Ace of Spades
“I never beg.” He was going to make her eat her words, but she didn’t care.
“We’ll see.”
When his thumb circled her clit while his finger was stroking inside her, her knees buckled. He slipped his other arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. As soon as he realized she was on the edge again, he stilled.
“Nate,” she said. She hissed out a breath when he rocked his groin, rubbing the hard length of him over her bottom.
“Here’s tonight’s agenda. As soon as you ask, I’m going to let you come. Then we’re going to take a shower together, where I might make you come again, and then you’re going to be the first woman to christen my bed.”
Shocked, she glanced back at him.
“I don’t bring women to my home. Just wanted you to know that.”
Then where did he take them? To a hotel? She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing away the wayward thoughts his words had put in her head. He was with her right now, and that was all that mattered.
“You’re thinking,” he growled into her ear. “Wouldn’t you rather come?”
“Yes. God, yes.” She pressed her forehead to the wall. “Damn you. That was me begging.”
“Good girl.”
It didn’t take more than a few minutes for his fingers to work their magic before she shattered so hard that she was digging her fingernails into his wall in an effort to stay upright.
“I have you,” he said.
She sank into his arms, her back to his chest. “I’ve never done anything like that before. It was amazing.”
He brought his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks. “There’s more amazing to come.” The moment his lips touched hers, his phone buzzed. “Damn,” he said.
She sighed, knowing he would have to answer it.
“Rothmire,” he said after pulling his cell out of his back pocket and glancing at it.
That wasn’t good. Their boss never called after hours unless there was an urgent situation. While Nate talked to him, she gathered her clothes.
“I’ll pick up Taylor, and we’ll head over there,” Nate said, glancing at her. “I’ll call you after we talk to her.”
He’d done that—pretended she wasn’t with him—the last time Rothmire had called. Even though she knew that he protected those he cared about, she told herself that his guarding her reputation didn’t mean she was special to him. It would be dangerous to her heart to start believing he thought of her as more than a friend and bed partner, especially because she happened to know that he had his pick of lovers.
You couldn’t be best friends with a man for over a year and not know those kinds of things about him. Because seriously, he was hot, he owned a biker bar, and there were barely clad women throwing themselves at him on a nightly basis. What man could refuse that kind of smorgasbord? She forced an answering smile as she slipped on her pants, then her blouse.
“Let me,” Nate said, brushing her hands away from the buttons on her shirt. He trailed a finger down the valley of her breasts to her bra, giving a little tug. “You do realize you owe me big time, right?”
“Duly noted.” Because she was determined to keep secret that she loved him, and that as far as he knew, all she wanted from him was his body, she pressed her palm over the bulge in his jeans. “I’m surprised you can even walk.”
He snorted. “Barely. Now stop touching me, or we’ll never get out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the hospital. Our man attacked another prostitute tonight, but she managed to get away.”
“That’s not good. He’s not taking any time off.” But at least he hadn’t killed this one. That was a win.
“Yeah, but maybe we got lucky with this one and can get a good description.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Nate glanced at Taylor. She’d gone quiet on him, spending the first ten minutes of their drive staring out the window. “We’ll get him.”
