Biker Chicks: An Anthology of Hot MC Romance Read Online Free Page A

arms, the sensation trailing the path of his palms moving over her skin. Her neck arched and he accepted the silent invitation, pressing hard, openmouthed kisses along her jaw and back up to her mouth. This time when his tongue teased along her lips, she opened to him, feeling that same shiver work its way up her spine as he swept into her mouth, possessing her. Lips working, he tangled his tongue with hers and she felt his hands shifting her closer as the kiss deepened.
    Her hands were twisted, one in his shirt, winding helplessly, trying to pull him closer, and the other twined in his hair, threading through and cupping the back of his head demandingly. Plucking at the piece of leather that tied his hair back, she released it and his hair fell around them, creating a silky curtain that swayed with their movements.
    She felt the muscles of her stomach jolt and lurch as one of his hands slipped underneath her shirt, the backs of his knuckles brushing along her ribs. He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to the side of her head, his breathing as ragged as hers when he said, “Mela, don’t tell me to stop, please God.” His hand rose along her ribs, thumb stroking the side of her breast and then across her already hard nipple over the fabric of her bra. “Want you,” he muttered, palming her breast and plumping it, slipping his fingers inside her bra to tease her bare skin.
    “Yes,” she breathed and he made an eager noise in response, easing her back onto the mattress, propping himself over her on an arm as he reached down, bringing her legs into the van. With one hand, he grasped the handle, and she watched the wedge of light from the fire grow smaller, narrowing and then finally winking out of existence as the door closed. Eyes stretched wide, she found there was just enough light filtering in through the windows to see his silhouette where he knelt between her feet. From the tilt of his head, she knew he was looking down at her, so when she felt his hands on her ankles, she didn’t jump.
    Wordlessly he tugged her boots from her feet, slipping the socks off and tucking them into each boot, setting the paired footwear aside. Stretching his hands out, his fingers found and worked the fastening at the waistband of her jeans, pulling them open and sliding them down her legs. He bent her knees to remove them, taking her panties at the same time and laid her clothing next to her boots. Reaching out, he grabbed one of her hands and tugged, pulling her into a sitting position. Reaching around her and under her shirt, he worked the fastener on her bra, and then took her shirt and bra off, laying them next to the rest of her clothes.
    Totally nude, bathed in the limited light shining through the windows, she sat in front of him, waiting, feeling her eagerness begin to retreat as the moments ticked past without him touching her. She crossed her arms and was startled when he said, voice low and forceful, “Don’t cover yourself. Let me look at you.” Dropping her arms, she fought the urge to bring her knees up, but she wanted him so badly by now that she was afraid of doing anything that would cause him to stop. In the end, desire won out over inhibition and she waited in silence, legs bent in front of her, arms at her sides. “Fucking gorgeous,” he said in that same low, possessive tone. “Blinding me, you’re so beautiful.”
    Moving slowly, he took off his cut, folding it carefully. Then with quick movements, he stripped off his boots and jeans, tossing his own clothing thoughtlessly aside. Reaching up, he swept his hair from his face and back with one hand, tilting his head and reaching out, seeming to take forever until he touched her. He cupped one hand over the top of each foot, tugging them open and pulling her toward him. “Lie down, honey,” he said softly, running his hands up the inside of her legs and back down, his thumb stroking up along the arch of each foot. “Lay back; let me make you feel good. Let