Biker Billionaire #2: The Mile High Club (3 page)

Before we left London, he took me to a doctor for a full physical, immunizations, a Depo birth control shot, Malaria and TB vaccines, and a long lecture on health precautions in third world countries.

We boarded the jet on the morning of our fourth day in England. I sat next to Shane in the deep leather bucket seat and squeezed his hand during take-off. It was still scary, but not as much as the first time.

In hopes of distracting him from his brooding mindset, I asked a question that had been floating around my brain for days. "Shane? When we met, you were riding a Harley in the rain. Where were you going?"

He quirked an eyebrow at the non sequitur question. "I restore classic motorcycles as a hobby. That Harley was a 1967 Shovelhead I'd rebuilt from the engine out. I'd just put the finishing touches on her, so I figured I'd take her for a quick spin." Shane shook his head. "Literally, I'd gone three blocks when it started pouring. I was so mad. I'm going to have to redo the leather of the seat, probably."

"Poor baby has to redo the leather," I teased, unbuckling as the flight leveled out.

"I wish you could have seen yourself," Shane said, his eyes twinkling with laughter even as they darkened with desire. "Your little blue dress was soaked to the skin. You might as well have been naked. You were barefoot and angry and bleeding. You ran right into me, and when you looked up at me you seemed like you'd never seen a man before."

My period had ended, and I was on the verge of clubbing Shane over the head with a bottle of liquor and dragging him to the bedroom. I think he knew it, and he was settling in to tease me some more. He hadn't unbuckled, remaining seated and still even as I sank down onto his lap and wiggled my bottom into his crotch.

He was ready for me, physically speaking, but his body language was all insouciance and studied indifference. I didn't buy it for a second.

"I hadn't ever seen a man before I saw you," I murmured in his ear, nibbling his earlobe.

"So then you might say I was your first man?" Shane's arms wrapped around my waist.

"Something like that. My first
real
man, how about that?"

I untucked his button-down shirt and focused on freeing each button, kissing his chest as I revealed more and more of it. His breathing turned into long gasps and his heart began to thump harder in his chest, so I knew he wasn't unaffected, even though he held himself absolutely still, his hands resting on my spine, his head tipped back.

I felt his erection growing larger and harder against his zipper, and I writhed my bottom into it. His hips started to shift against mine in a strange way, and I realized he was folded inside his pants in an uncomfortable position. I decided to use this against him.

I pushed his shirt down off his shoulders so it was draped at his elbows, and then left it there. He'd have to let go of me to take it off himself, or be hampered by the shirt's restriction on his arms. I ran my palms on his chest, took one of his small nipples between my teeth and nipped hard enough to draw a grunt of protest from him.

All the while, I was grinding into him, arousing both of us; arousal only caused one of us pain, however, and Shane kept moving his crotch against mine in futile attempts to free himself.

I pulled back and gave him a look of innocence. "Something wrong, Mr. Sorrenson?"

Shane growled at my use of his last name, but refused to acknowledge the problem. "Nope. No problem, Ms. Larkin."

"You sure? Nothing needs...adjustment?"

"Nope. Everything's perfect."

I lifted up and ran a curled index finger just inside his waistband, enough to cause his belly to suck in out of reflex, then tugging enough to ease the pressure for a moment, but not enough to let his erection spring into a more natural position. I could feel it tipped sideways his pants, straining against the fabric, growing harder every second, larger with every brush of my backside against his groin.

I slipped off the chair, capturing his hands in mine and draping them on my shoulders as I touched my lips to his stomach and down his belly, kissing and tonguing his skin. I knelt between his knees and nudged his erection with my chin, inching it towards freedom.

"Sure?" I ran a finger along it. "You're not...uncomfortable, are you?"

"Nope." He narrowed his eyes and held himself still, refusing to move a muscle.

I dragged a fingernail across his cloth-bound cock, feeling it twitch under my touch, but still he refused to capitulate.

Time to play dirty.

I stood up in front of him and turned away, showing him my back. I was wearing a dress, the hem brushing my thighs above my knees with thigh-high stockings and strappy, low-heeled sandals. I bent over at the waist and unstrapped a sandal, letting the hem of the dress hike up to show him my ass, which was clad in only a thong. He hadn't seen me dress that morning, as he'd stepped out to take a call, so he didn't know what I was wearing underneath my dress. Or wasn't wearing, as the case may have been.

"God, Leo. What're you doing to me?" he growled.

"Doing? I'm not doing anything. I'm just taking off my shoes."

"You're...done, then?"

"Mmm-hmmm." I slipped off one sandal and tossed it at him, then bent once more to undo the other one.

He still hadn't moved, and I could see his manhood throbbing against his pants.

"You have got to be the stubbornest man alive," I said, tossing the other sandal on his lap.

"I don't think 'stubbornest' is a word."

"Shut up. It is if I say it is."

"No, it isn't. I'm the
most stubborn
man alive, I think you mean." He shifted his hips again, and I watched as his cock shifted slightly, the pressure alleviated a bit. "And I don't know what you're talking about."

I laughed. "I don't know why you don't just give in. That can't be comfortable."

Shane raised an eyebrow, finally unbuckling his seatbelt. "I'm comfy as can be. I could take a nap."

Bastard. At this point, it was a test of wills and I was determined not to lose. I was aching for him to touch me, to take me, but I refused to show it.

"Take a nap, hmm?" I looked at him over my shoulder, smirking at his forced relaxation. "That's not a bad idea. But I couldn't possibly take a nap in all these clothes."

I heard a low rumble from Shane's chest, part approval, part irritation, as I lifted my hands to unzip my dress. I kept my head turned to the side so I could watch him as I inched the zipper down my back, brushed the sleeves off my arms and let the fabric fall in a pool around my feet.

I felt a thrill of victory when he finally let a groan escape from his lips; he pulled at his tented crotch and let his erection slide to vertical, but then gripped the arms of his chair with white-knuckled fingers once more.

I bent at the waist again, grabbing my ankles to present my ass full-on to Shane, a mere foot away. I was musky and wet with desire and excitement by this time, and I knew he had to smell it. I was bent over purely for his benefit, this time.

I wasn't a dancer, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I gave it my best, especially without music. I straightened slowly, twisted around to face him and stood still, letting him devour me with his eyes. His hard-on got harder, if possible, and his grip on the chair's arms tightened until I heard the wood creak under the power of his crushing fingers.

I ran my thumbs around the strings of my thong, pushing them down to give him a peek at my pussy, then let go and traced my palms up my stomach to cup my breasts. Undulating my hips at him, I tugged the cup of my bra down to show him a nipple, first one, then the other.

Shane's chest was heaving now, his gaze hooded and his eyes burning. He wanted me, and his control was slipping. His hips rolled, just once, and he pressed his head back into the chair, lip curled into a primal snarl.

I stroked myself through the fabric of my thong, the black triangle of lacy cotton growing damp. Shane rumbled in his chest again and curled his hands into fists.

"What's wrong, Shane?" I sashayed toward him to slip between his knees. "You seem...tense."

"I'm not tense," he growled.

I clawed at his shoulders, the hard muscles bunched and tight beneath my fingers. "Are you sure? You seem tense. I could help with that, you know."

I dug my fingers into his shoulders, kneading at the knots with all my strength. My breasts were at eye level, my hips between his knees. His hands trembled on his thighs and his breathing grew even more ragged.

"You know you want to touch me," I breathed into his ear. "I'm wet for you. Juicy. You'd slip right in."

I'd never talked like this before, not so wantonly, with the sole purpose of seducing a man who was trying to resist me. It felt good, powerful. I rubbed my breasts against him, and he moaned, an almost-inaudible sound against the soft skin of my tits.

"You could pick me up," I said, taking his hands in mine. "You could pull this thong off me and be inside me within seconds. Or you could just...reach up and put a finger inside my pussy. I would come for you, right here, standing up."

I put his hands on the swell of my hips and reached up to unclasp my bra, unhooking all but one eyelet. My full breasts were all but hanging free in front him, and his hands slid up my back toward the last hook.

"Yes, Shane. Take it off. I want to feel your mouth on my tits."

He growled again, clawing his fingers down my back. I purred in the back of my throat at the sensation of his powerful fingers raking my skin, and I arched my back into him. He pressed his face into my cleavage and breathed in the scent of my skin.

Two fingers pinched the hook and eye together and released the bra, pulling the straps off my shoulders with the same two fingers, his rough stubble scratching my flesh, his mouth finally starting to kiss the mounds of my breasts. I let the bra fall off into his lap, tilting my head back and moaning as he took my nipple into his mouth.

I stepped away from him, pulling out of his grip. He snarled possessively and reached for me. I danced out of the way and darted toward the bedroom, slowing as he lunged out of the chair. A victorious smile tilted my lips as he prowled closer to me. I took small backward steps away from him until my legs were pressed against the bed.

"Nowhere to run now, little lion," he said, digging his fingers into the muscle and flesh of my ass.

"Oh no," I said in a tiny voice, my eyes wide in mock-fear. "You caught me."

He slapped my ass cheek, a hard smack with the flat of his palm, causing me to gasp sharply and stumble into him. "Bad girl."

I turned in his arms and bent over the bed, presenting my ass to him, my heart hammering in my chest, anticipating the thrill of the slight pain. He smacked me again, and then smoothed the skin with a gentle caress before spanking me again on the other cheek.

His finger traced down my spine to my tailbone and through the crease, followed the string of the thong. I let my thighs spread open as he slid a finger between my legs and snagged the edge of my panties. He slipped a hand around my waist between me and the bed and took the hem of my panties in his hand, then withdrew his other hand and snaked it around my waist on the other side, gathering the fabric in that hand as well.

His erection was pressed against my backside, and I couldn't stop my hips from fluttering into it.

"Soon," he promised. "But first...these come off."

I expected him to draw my thong off, but instead he pulled his hands apart and began to exert his strength. I felt the fabric stretch and pull against me, felt his hands tremble with effort, and then the strings parted from the patch of lace with an audible ripping sound. He pulled the panties free and tossed them aside.

I twisted in his arms again and pushed him away, desperate to feel him inside me now, wild to feel his flesh against me, his heat on my skin and his hard muscles against my soft curves. I opened his pants and jerked them down, then pulled at his underwear, forcing myself to slow down, to tease both of us just a little bit more.

The waistband of his boxer-briefs slid down over his erection as I revealed it, inch by inch, until it sprang free, wet and glistening with dewy pre-come, veins throbbing, tip engorged. The underwear joined the pants on the floor, and then my own control was broken as I gathered his cock in my hands and stroked him.

I bent to take him in my mouth, just to taste him, but he pulled me away.

"I won't last thirty seconds if you do that," he said. "You've got me all riled up."

He kissed me, then, the first hot, hard kiss he'd given me in days. It snatched my breath away and curled my bare toes into the carpet, sent butterflies through my belly to flutter between my thighs. I lifted a leg to his hip, curling my arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, drowning in the breathless heat of his mouth.

He put both hands under my buttocks and lifted me up. I hopped, pulling on his neck, and he caught me as I wrapped both legs around his hips, clamping down with the muscles in my legs and core. I felt his cock hard and probing at the wet folds of my pussy, and I curled my body into him as I sank down, impaling him into me.

"Oh god, you're so tight," he whispered, his lips moving against mine.

He lifted me up and then lowered my weight onto him, thrusting up with his hips at the same time. My nether lips stretched wide to accommodate him, each slow thrust spreading me wider, allowing him deeper. I bit his shoulder at the tingling burn of the stretching muscles, rolling my hips to slather his cock with my dripping juices.

The days and days of teasing, the ache of unfilled desire, the strip-tease and longing anticipation and extended foreplay, all of it had turned this moment when I finally had Shane deep inside me into an ecstatic agony of pleasure. I couldn't breathe as he penetrated me, couldn't moan or gasp or speak his name as he plunged into me. All I could do was writhe in helpless satisfaction as he pushed into me.

His weight pressed me down into the mattress, laying me down with my legs dangling off the edge, one of his feet planted on the floor and the other knee on the bed. His hands pulled on my hips to drive into me, pushing the rolling pressure of my rising orgasm into a series of small detonations. I was close already, within a dozen thrusts rising to the peak of climax...