“Shit,” he moans, his fingers digging into my hips and I moan loudly, loving the way he stretches me as I plant my hands on his chest and lift before sinking back down.
“Chance,” I breathe, completely caught up in the moment, my mind blank except for the feeling of him moving inside me, and he reaches up, cupping the back of my neck and pulling me down to meet his lips. With one hand securely on the small of my back, he thrusts up into me and kisses me with so much passion I fear I may drown in it. His tongue twists with mine, teasing me with quick gentle flicks that never quite feel like enough and my fingers dig into his skin. He drives up into me, again and again, so fast each thrust just bleeds into the next, driving me out of my mind with a rapidly building release.
“Oh, God,” I breathe against his lips. “Don’t stop.”
“Not a chance, Princess,” he growls, nipping at my bottom lip as my back arches and my muscles tense. Two more quick thrusts and I cry out, white light exploding in my vision as my body clenches down on him.
“Fuck.” He never slows his pace, allowing me to ride out my orgasm as he chases his own release and when I dig my fingers into his chest again, he grips my hips hard and tenses beneath me, groaning my name. I collapse on top of him and his arms wrap around me, holding me close as he presses his lips to my forehead.
“Jesus, you give good head, baby.”
I scoff, playfully slapping his chest. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you.”
Laughing, I slip off him and he peels the condom off before dropping it into the trash can and turning to face me, frowning when he sees how far away I am. He reaches out, wrapping an arm around my waist, and pulls me closer.
“I have to get in the shower and get ready for work,” I say, making a face because I’d much rather stay in bed with him, which is another first for me.
“Yeah, I gotta get going soon, too. Have breakfast with me first?”
I shake my head. “We don’t do breakfast.”
“We do now,” he says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “It’s my new rule.”
“You can’t just make up new rules as we go along.”
He grins, hopping out of bed and grabbing his jeans from the floor, sending me a wink as he pulls them on. “Watch me.”
Chapter Seven
Chance
The blonde behind the counter smiles as she passes me a bag of food. “Have a good day, Sir.”
“Thanks. You, too.” I take the bag and slip outside, eager to get back to Carly. I had intended to make her something for breakfast while she showered but all I found in her fridge was two bottles of wine and some funky smelling Chinese takeout so I had to improvise. Thank God, she lives downtown and the doorman was able to direct me to a great diner only a few doors down. I half expected her to refuse when I suggested eating breakfast together but maybe the fantastic sex last night and this morning made her a little more amenable. Or she’ll throw me out when I walk back in with the food – it’s a toss-up.
As I pass by the doorman, I wave and he nods before turning back to the newspaper and coffee on his desk. Looking around the lobby, I can’t quite figure it out. From what I know about Carly, this doesn’t really seem like her tastes and she got fucking pissed the first time I called her princess so it just doesn’t add up. But you could say the same about a lot of things when it comes to her. One more thing I’m looking forward to uncovering about her, I guess.
Instead of waiting for the elevator, I turn toward the stairs, too impatient to wait before getting back to Carly. It’s been thirty minutes since I left her bed, but my hands ache to touch her again and wrap my arms around her. It’s ridiculous how addicted I am to this girl. How the hell am I supposed to get through a whole day without seeing her if thirty minutes was so hard?
God, last night was, hands down, the single best night of my life and if I didn’t know before I sank into her for the first time, I’m sure now that this can never be just sex. What we did, the way we connected, was more than just physical and I’ve never felt anything like it. But I know convincing her to give us a shot will take a lot of work.
The hallway is quiet when I step out of the stairwell and I march toward her door, hoping she’s still as agreeable as when I left. Not that I don’t love her attitude but seeing a different side of her like I did last night and again this morning, is nice. More than nice. It satisfies this craving I have burning a hole in my stomach to get to know her. There’s so much more to her than meets the eye and the more I uncover, the more I want to learn.
Opening her front door, I release a breath when I see her pouring coffee by the sink. She glances over her shoulder, her gaze dropping down to the bag in my hand, and relief flashes across her face before she hides it.
“Oh, you’re still here.”
Chuckling softly, I step inside and close the door behind me. “Yep. Just had to go get food since you apparently survive on wine alone.”
“What is that smell?” she asks, sniffing the air as she turns to face me and lifts her coffee cup to her full lips.
“Biscuits and gravy.” I hold up the bag and her eyes widen.
“Wow,” she whispers, looking away from me as sadness creeps into her eyes. “I haven’t had it in forever.”
I walk over to the island and set the bag down before pulling the foam containers out and setting them down. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“Mine, too,” she admits and I meet her gaze, confused.
“If it’s one of your favorites, why haven’t you had it in a long time?”
She looks away, pursing her lips, something I’ve come to recognize as a sign she’s holding something back. I want to go to her but I’m afraid it will spook her.
“My dad used to make it for my sister and me every Sunday. After he died, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to eat it anymore.”
“Shit,” I say, staring down at the containers in front of me. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. It’s actually really nice.”
I’m getting a rare look into a vulnerable side of Carly and I’m eating it the fuck up. Knowing she grew up without a dad, too, brings a few things into focus for me. She understands a part of me most people can’t.
“How old were you when he died?” I ask, opening the containers and passing her one as she grabs a couple forks from the drawer. She sighs and I wonder if I pushed her too far.
“He died on my sixth birthday.”
Holy shit.
“I’m so sorry. What happened?”
She clears her throat, looking away from me to hide her face as she wipes away a stray tear.
“I think that’s enough about me today. Let’s dig into your past now.”
I laugh, hoping to lighten the mood and hold my arms out wide. “What do you want to know?”
Cool gray eyes study me for a moment before she smirks. “Explain the biker thing to me because from what I know about you, it doesn’t really fit.”
I nod. “Everything was different when I first joined up.”
“How so?”
Shaking my head, I remember how out of control my life was back then. “I patched in when I was nineteen and I was a real angry kid. I hated the whole damn world and blamed it for all my problems. The club back then was completely different, too. They were mixed up in all kinds of bad shit – drugs, guns, all of it. Honestly, I’m so damn lucky I made it to this point without dying or ending up in jail because back then, I didn’t care if I lived or died.”