Page 28 of Driving Whiskey Wild
He pushed her dress up over her hips, and she stopped him from lifting it higher. “Wait,” she said quickly, and he held his hands up, confusion filling his eyes. “I have scars, too.”
“Baby, you could be covered in them and it wouldn’t make a difference.”
She swallowed hard and slowly lifted her dress a few inches higher, waiting for the shocked look she’d seen in the eyes of most of the other men she’d been with. Aaron was the only one who hadn’t reacted with shock. That was how she’d known Aaron really liked her. It was a silly thing, letting a scar gauge the depth of attraction, but that’s how she’d seen it. And now, as Bullet’s eyes found the scars, they brimmed with compassion.
“Oh, my beautiful girl. We really were made for each other.” He pressed his lips to the divot in her lower belly and proceeded to kiss each of the puncture scars along her side. “What happened to my girl?”
“I was fifteen. Penny and I were at the mall. We were waiting for the bus, when this dog came out of nowhere, running across the street. I thought it was running toward its owner because it was charging so fast. By the time I realized it was coming at me, it was too late. Penny tried to push me out of the way, but the dog had already gotten ahold of me.”
“Baby,” he said in a low, pained voice. He rested his cheek on the scars and splayed one hand across her belly. He pressed his lips to her belly again in a series of the lightest kisses she’d ever felt, his beard tickling her side, and whispered, “No wonder you were afraid of Tinkerbell. I wish I had known.”
“She’s an important part of your life. I was okay, just startled. And I’m even better now.”
She ran her fingers through his thick hair as he loved his way along her belly more tenderly than she could ever imagine a man of his size being. His rough hands moved over her skin, hot and strong, caressing her sides as he moved her dress up and over her breasts, carefully stripping it from her body. He went up on his knees, his eyes boldly raking over every inch of her. She felt herself go damp and was vaguely aware of the ticking timer a few feet away as he reached behind his back and tugged off his shirt, bringing his glorious body into view. How differently she saw him now. All that ink was no longer a scary mural of his life. It was the very foundation that made him the admirable man he was.
He perched above her and slanted his mouth over hers in a rough, insistent possession that she matched perfectly. His large hand cupped her jaw as he’d done before, making love to her mouth with his tongue until she was moaning and rocking against his hard length, desperate for more.
“That’s what I’m going to do to you, baby. I’m going to taste you so deep, you’ll never forget how good it feels.”
“Yes,” she said as he blazed a path lower, slowing to suck and nip, driving her out of her flipping mind.
His hands played over her body, clutching her ribs as he feasted on first one breast, then the other, taking each nipple between his teeth and tugging, sending shocks of lust between her legs. She cried out, and he cupped her breasts, pressing them together between both hands, kissing and licking the tender spots he’d caused. She clawed at the sheets, every swipe of his tongue taking her higher. Then his hot mouth was on the move again, tasting every bit of her flesh from rib cage to belly, delving in and around her belly button, and lavishing her scars with openmouthed kisses.
Cool air swept over the wet trails he’d left, making her shiver and shake. He hooked his fingers into the hips of her panties, and she lifted off the mattress as he slipped them off. She should feel self-conscious, lying naked save for her ankle boots while he still had on his jeans, but there was no room for embarrassment when her body was thundering from the inside out, begging for his touch, his mouth, his naked body all over hers.
He came down over her again, rough denim rubbing against her sensitive, swollen sex as he recaptured her lips in a punishingly intense kiss, sending spirals of ecstasy careening through her. Her world tilted on its axis as tingling sensations climbed up her thighs. He tore his mouth away in one swift yank, and she craned up off the mattress, reaching for him, pleading for more, but he was already moving lower. His hands splayed over her inner thighs, spreading her wide as he lowered his face to within an inch of her sex and inhaled deeply. Flames ignited in his eyes, and his mouth came down over her sex as soft as a caress. His tongue slid along the very heart of her, tasting and teasing. His beard scratched her sex, her thighs, and when he sucked her most sensitive nerves into his mouth, the scratch turned erotic, drawing long, pleading sounds from her lungs.
“Bullet—”
Her hips struggled against his strong grip, pinned to the mattress as he sealed his mouth over her, thrusting his tongue in an act of raw, unbridled passion. She clawed at the sheets, but she wanted him. She grabbed his hands, which was all she could reach, and dug her fingers into his hot skin. Her heels pushed at the mattress and her head rose off the mattress with the intensity of the sensations engulfing her. His tongue plunged deeper, and holy moly. She tried to throttle the dizzying currents racing through her, shattering her ability to hold on to any one thought, but the feel of his tongue invading her, the tension of his hands and body caging her in, and the guttural, appreciative sounds he made as he loved her collided, exploding inside her in a series of hip-bucking, brain-numbing convulsions.
Just when she started to come down from the peak, he eased his grip, lifting her hips, and like a lion who had just slayed his prey, his eyes turned coal black, and he plunged his fingers inside her while simultaneously taking her clit between his teeth, sending her reeling once again.
Long after she came down from the clouds, as she lay panting beneath him, Bullet brushed kiss after tender kiss on her inner thighs, and then he brought his mouth between her legs again, licking and kissing as if he were savoring every ounce of her arousal. As he moved up her body, kissing her scars again, her ribs, the skin between her breasts, she wanted to memorize the feel of him, the slow, sensual slide of his tongue, the tenderness of his touch. He wasn’t in a hurry. He didn’t try to whip off his pants and take what he must be dying for. He ran his hands along her sides, up the underside of her arms, pushing them above her head. Then he was kissing her neck, his beard tickling her skin, her arousal clinging to him like cologne.
The timer sounded, and he stilled, his eyes closing for a beat. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want their closeness to end, and when he moved beside her, pulling her sated body against him, and kissed her softly, she said, “Let’s stay right here.”
His gaze was so soft, his features so appealing and happy, she wanted to see that look more often. She wanted to know he was at peace in his heart, which was precisely how his entrancing smile appeared, and it brought her lips to his in another slow, loving kiss.
He ran his hand through her hair, and the faint sound of the oven timer floated down the hall as he kissed her forehead, cheeks, chin, and finally, her mouth.
“I want to stay, Fins, but I’ve got to get home and clean up before going to work, and you put so much effort into those meals, I’d feel horrible if they were ruined.”
She tucked her face beside his neck and breathed a kiss there. “’Kay.”
“Can I see you tomorrow?”
She nodded, wishing she could close her eyes and that when she opened them it would magically be morning and she’d still be right there, wrapped in Bullet’s arms.
Chapter Eleven
THE PIERCING REBELLION of an electric guitar echoed off the walls of Whiskey Bro’s, grating against Bullet’s nerves for the first time that he could remember. He loved the Rebels, a local band made up of members of the Dark Knights. They were one of the best bands around, and their renditions of legendary classic rock bands were the best he’d ever heard. Their music was ragged and raw. The pitches and riffs played deep, hollow, or shrill, always too loud and overly dramatic, which normally was right in line with Bullet’s emotions. But he’d been messed up ever since leaving Finlay. As he’d helped her put back on that sexy little dress, she was so damn sweet and understanding about his leaving, but he’d seen longing in her eyes that mirrored the new emotions tearing him up inside. What was fucking wrong with him? She had plans anyway. She was bringing food to Sarah, ordering the appliances for the bar, working out the renovation schedule with Dixie. But as the evening wore on, he couldn’t stop seeing her lying naked in his arms, was unable to quell the memory of her breath warm on his neck, and those addicting sounds she’d made played in his ears, competing with the band.
Torment coursed through his veins. Every chord yanked him toward an angry edge he didn’t want to approach. For the first time since he’d come out from under his PTSD and started working at Whiskey Bro’s, he didn’t want to be there. And every second he was made him want to slam something against a wall.
“What do you think, B?” Bones took a swig of his beer, looking expectantly at Bullet. He and Bear had been hanging out at the bar for the past hour. “Sunday ride? Head out to Riker’s?”
Riker’s Point was a solid two hours from the harbor, and a hell of a nice ride. But Sunday was Bullet’s only day off work, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to spend it with Finlay. After learning why she was afraid of dogs, he was already rethinking his idea of bringing her over to meet Tink. He hadn’t even asked why she was afraid of motorcycles, but he had a feeling that navigating her fears was going to be a minefield in and of itself.
