Page 65 of 1 Last Shot

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest by the time I stop the bike and drop the kickstand. I’m smiling from ear to ear, and I almost can’t breathe around the happiness expanding in my chest.

“That was so much fun,” I say breathlessly. “I totally get how people get addicted to this.”

“You did great, princess,” comes Kane’s voice. “I’m impressed.”

My smile, impossibly, grows wider. I can’t exactly turn around but I twist in my seat so I can aim it over my shoulder at Kane. I come face to face with his lightning-filled eyes–and they’re focused on me.

I can’t exactly kiss him since I’m still wearing my helmet, so instead I say, “Thank you for teaching me. That was incredible.”

I expect him to tease me about my eagerness, but there isn’t any part of Kane’s expression that’s laughing right now. His stare is hard, his gaze traveling over my face until they land on my lips.

When my tongue darts out to lick them in self-consciousness, his eyes immediately blow black.

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice so gravelly it scrapes over my bones. “Now drive the bike over to the side of the building where no one can see what I’m about to do to you.”

I suck in a surprised breath at his words. My gaze darts over his face, looking to see if he’s teasing, but the glance is useless—Kane isn’t really the teasing type. I turn forward to start the bike again and do as he asks.

Kane guides me to park beside the building, where we’re hidden from the street and from anyone that might be passing by. It’s not completely secluded, but because the Naval Yard is closed and the building is abandoned, there’s very little chance of anyone seeing us.

Seeing whatever it is that Kane is planning.

I park the bike and go to shut off the engine, but Kane stops me before I can do that.

“Leave it on,” he murmurs, his hands settling on my waist.

Confused, I do as he asks. I take my helmet off and try to turn so I can get a look at his expression and maybe guess what he’s planning, but his grip on me stops that, too.

“Tell me, princess. If I make you come right now, will you think I only want to fuck you?”

“What?” I squeak, once again caught off guard by Kane’s bluntness.

“You heard me. Answer the question.”

My hands fidget where they’re folded on the tank in front of me. “I–I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

His teeth nip at my shoulder in admonition. “Beautiful little liar. I saw the look on your face when I left last night. Did you think that was a one-time thing?”

I exhale on a hard breath and force myself to be partially honest. “I don’t… expect anything from you. I liked last night, obviously, but I didn’t think you’d want–ohhh…”

My words trail off on a moan. Because Kane chooses that moment to slide his hands to the front of my body and dip his fingers beneath the waistline of my skirt.

“You should always wear these cute little skirts when you’re on my bike,” he murmurs, his lips so close to my ear that his words cause a shiver to run through me. “This whole lesson, all I could think about is whether or not the vibration of the bike was turning you on.”

I swallow roughly. Ihadnoticed that the vibration feels good between my legs. I’m wearing my usual tights-over-my-leotard and wrap skirt combo, so there’s not much between me and the rumbling bike, and it’s definitely making me wriggle in the seat. Kane’s greedy touch and rough words aren’t helping.

I try to get back to answering his question, try to see around the fog of lust surrounding me, because something about Kane’s question feels important. I just don’t know what it is.

“Kane, I–”

But he cuts me off with another nip to my shoulder. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to make you come on my fingers, and then on my cock.ThenI’m going to take you out to get food before I have to go to work. Because I don’t just want to fuck you, Isabella. I know exactly what you were thinking last night, and I’m telling you right now, you’re not just a convenient piece of ass to me. Understood?”

I huff a laugh despite myself. “Only you could tell a woman sheisn’t‘a convenient piece of ass’ and call it a seduction.”

Kane’s answer is to reach between my legs and rip my tights at the seam.

“Tell me you understand that this isn’t a one-time, sex-only thing, Isabella,” he says, sliding his fingers under my leotard and over my slippery clit. “Tell me so I can fuck you without worrying about seeing that look on your face again.”

“Okay, okay,” I gasp. My hips bump into his fingers, silently asking for more. “I understand. Please, just…please.”

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