Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) Page 5

  Aliah accepts the bear hug and waves goodbye as she walks toward the exit.

  “Oh. Wait! Aliah. I found this on the floor behind the bar earlier. Is it yours?” Mitchell strolls toward her and holds out the ripped business card.

  “Um. Yeah.”

  “I didn’t want to throw it out in case it was important to you.”

  “Thanks, Mitch. You’re a lifesaver.” She flashes him a golden smile, and snatches the scrap of paper with Harley’s number printed on it. “See you later.”

  Mitchell walks her to the door. “Do you want me to walk you out?”

  “I’ll be okay. I doubt Brandee would like that very much. Thanks, though.”

  Mitchell hangs his head, and sighs. “She’ll come around, Ally. She just has to get to know you better.”

  “Doubt it. But it’s all good. I’ll catch you later.”

  “Okay, lady. Have a good one.”

  She walks outside, only wishing she’d find Harley out there so she wouldn’t have to contemplate giving him a call. Now she is truly dreaming. Despite her sureness of Harley not being there, she hurries across the road and stops, scouring the parking lot for a motorcycle. At the very back of the lot, right near the river, she sees something in the shadows. She squints to see what could be a motorcycle parked in the distance.

  “Looking for someone?” Harley’s breath crashes over the back of her neck.

  She freezes in place, relishing the warmth coming from his body, then spins around to face him, once she’s regained her balance.

  “You stalking me now?” She turns away and walks off, without slowing for an answer.

  Harley smiles, but he doesn’t follow after her. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

  She almost admits that she would, when he takes a step in her direction and reaches his hand out to her.

  “I was waiting for you. If I was stalking, I would be a little less obvious about it.”

  Aliah twirls back around, and gawks at his outstretched hand, her long bouncy curls fanning out behind her. “Is that supposed to relieve me?”

  Harley raises his eyebrows and holds them there. “Are you always this confrontational?” His hand drops down to his side, but his posture is no less intimidating.

  “Do you always answer a question with a question?”

  “Wow. Nice chat.” He makes to walk away from her.

  She sighs and glances at the ground, before lifting her chin back up. “You waited all this time and you aren’t even going to offer me a ride?” She knows she will live to regret this.

  “You have your car.”

  “How do you know?”

  He folds his unbelievably defined arms across his chest and smirks. “Do you have your car here?”

  She rolls her eyes, effectively tearing them away from the tattoos wrapped deliciously around his arm. “Forget I asked.”

  “Wait,” he grinds out.

  She stands there silently for a minute, waiting for him to decide what he’s going to say next. Her breath seems to be on hold, waiting for him to speak. It makes her a little light-headed.

  His eyes lock on hers, and he looks more determined than ever. “Come with me.”

  She can’t even explain it, when her body involuntarily responds. Her hand is gripped in his and she is being pulled away before she can even come up with a smart remark. As they get to his bike, the black of the gas tank sparkles in the moonlight. His motorcycle is almost as sexy as him.

  This isn’t anything she’s ever done before. She likes to put up a good front, but she has a good heart underneath that push-up bra. She’s always dated the knight in shining armor type. They seem to be drawn to her naughty-girl attitude. Quite frankly she has grown rather bored with that type of man and she is ready to live up to her sassy persona.

  To see a bad ass biker like Harley dragging her to his ride has her body humming already. She likes it. Nothing has ever excited her more than the thought of him taking her to his bed and showing her everything she has been missing out on.

  The only problem? She doesn’t do one-night stands.

  I guess we will just have to make it two.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ten minutes earlier.

  Harley gets on his motorcycle and rides. Sure, he is a man. He gets turned on. But this girl has his cock raging for hours. It makes it uncomfortable for him to walk, let alone ride his motorcycle home. He doesn’t even mow his own lawn, but he plans to work to please her in every way possible, no matter what the challenge.

  He had taken off from the bar before he did something stupid, like ask that beautiful bartender out. What was he thinking? He hasn’t dated since… well, ever. He doesn’t do dates. He had been forced to grow up and get out in his early teen years. He lived in an unhappy relationship for far too long after that and he has no desire to date another woman now or ever.

  But damn, Aliah Brooklin is hot. And he would love to have another arguing match with her. He is sure it could end in some really hot sex, if he plays his cards right. He only wishes it was worth the trouble.

  Harley doesn’t have anywhere in mind when he gets on his bike, but before long he finds himself rounding the corner and approaching Riley’s Pub again. He wonders if she is still there. A quick scan of the parking lot tells him she is. You can’t miss her car. It’s the flashiest thing a girl could buy, short of a pink Cadillac.

  It wasn’t all butterflies and sunshine for that girl though. Harley is good at watching people. He has watched Aliah. A lot. Though she looks like she could be a lot of fun, hidden just below the surface is a damaged little girl. He will have to be careful to keep that little one in hiding.

  Harley parks his ride at the back of the lot and sits there for a few minutes in the shadows. He debates whether he should start his bike back up and get the hell out of there. Though all signs point to yes, he kicks his leg over the bike and rests his helmet on the seat. He has no choice. He has to fuck this girl. Just the thought of sliding his hands under that short skirt and touching that soft, pale skin has his cock raging again.

  He moseys toward the bar, second guessing himself with every step. He peers in the door before reaching for the handle and instantly notices Aliah near the exit with Cavanagh. He ducks swiftly to the side. The detective in him wants to eavesdrop, but it looks like she’s just leaving. If he walks in now, he will be stuck for a beer. Does he want a beer?

  Only if he can drink it from her unclothed body.

  Knowing the likelihood of that to be close to nil, he steps back into the shadows and waits. He watches her eyes, even while they’re smiling at another man. Those lips. Instead of reading them, like he should be, he thinks about how nice they’ll be when they’re wrapped around his cock. Aliah busies herself with her keys and before too long reaches for the door. He’s in luck. Cavanagh accepts her rejection and lets her take off on her own.

  Sucker.

  Harley waits for her to step off the curb before following her across the road. She has absolutely no idea he’s watching her. His long strides make hers seem like that of a child. When she stops and scours the lot, he wonders what she’s looking for. Her car is straight ahead. It’s not that she’s looking for.

  She focuses on his bike at the back of the lot, as if she were looking for it. Intrigued by that thought, he moves dangerously close to her; so close he can smell the sweet perfume melting from her neck.

  “Looking for someone?” he rasps provocatively, the deep bass of his voice registering in his gut.

  He tries to ignore the sparks flickering between them but, after some promising banter, Harley decides against it. He steals Aliah’s hand and tugs her to his bike, ordering her to come with him. He doesn’t actually think she will. She would have to be crazy to leave with him. But she slips her small hand into his and lets him pull her along. He has never felt so powerful. And he has been in some powerful situations.

  She’s done it now.

  Her decision has been made. He refuses to take no
for an answer. Not that she seems to be putting up much of a fight. But, knowing that this bargain can pass, he drags her to his bike as fast as her five inch heels can carry her. He feels so tempted to scoop her into his arms, so they can get there faster. He just barely resists the urge.

  He believes it’s officially in the bag, when they’re mere steps away from his ride, until she pulls her hand away from him and stops. He turns around to see what the problem is, worry written across his brow. He really fucking needs this.

  Aliah’s eyes look so big and wide that he almost forgets his goal. Almost.

  “You aren’t a serial killer, who seduces his victims and then murders them, are you?”

  She’s trying to act scared. Like a little school girl. And he falls for it at first. But he quickly sees past the act. His entire body tightens. Her hesitation only makes him harder.

  “If I was, I certainly wouldn’t admit that to you now. Especially now that you’re so close to giving in to me.”

  Aliah smiles and turns her eyes away. She loves his bluntness. He knows it. He decides now is as good a time as ever to give her a little truth.

  “I may not be who I appear to be, darlin’, but I assure you I’m no serial killer.”

  The look on her face suggests she doesn’t even want to know, and that’s just fine by him. She shrugs a shoulder, proving that he’s back in the safe zone.

  “Good enough for me.” She gets closer to him and lowers her voice until it’s soft and breathy. “If you like it rough, I’m good with that.”

  Just the thought of tumbling in the sheets with her makes him tight in the pants.

  “Just make sure you’re gentle with my body afterward,” she teases. “Nothing worse than crime scene photos of a woman propped up in the tackiest of poses.”

  Harley smirks at her. “Because you would know this.”

  “I do.”

  He ignores that, passing it off as a lie. She probably takes her pointers from the phoney late night crime shows. Regardless, she doesn’t need to worry. He would never let another person touch her. That perfect little body will never be the subject of a brutal disfigurement put out on display for the cops to find. Not while Harley’s on the clock.

  He tries to forget about it. He wants to get her back onto the topic of sex. Yes. He likes that idea very much.

  “I promise not to treat you like a trophy, although I can see why a man might want to look at you that way.” His eyes touch her all over.

  Aliah tilts her head to the left and presses her lips into a flat line. “Okay, quit with that creepy shit, before I change my mind.”

  She pulls the hair tie from her high pony and shakes it out, until long waves of silky hair are framing her face and dangling down to the curve of her lower back. Her hair whispers across the bareness of her skin, like chocolate silk.

  “So, is that a yes?” He’s not below begging at this point, if she is to say no.

  “Yes to what? I recall that you asked what I was doing later. Was I supposed to assume that you meant you’d like to keep me busy?”

  “I would like that. Very much.”

  “I’m sure you would. Unfortunately, I’m busy. Maybe next time. But not likely,” she mumbles under her breath, as her voice trails off.

  “Are you too good for me? Just say it, if that’s it.” His words stop her in her tracks.

  She spins back around and props a hand on a flawless hip. “Do I look good to you?”

  No. She looks bad. Very, very bad. Her sassy mouth and bad attitude are really turning him on something fierce. He wants to spank her; to see his handprint marking her delicate flesh.

  “Good isn’t the word I would use.” His eyes violate her entire body.

  He reaches out and pulls a single strand of hair from between her lips, then dusts a kiss there, in stark contrast to the loaded machine gun he’s packing in his pants.

  He can see that she’s flustered. He’s getting to her. Little Miss Aliah isn’t quite as hard as she lets on. He, on the other hand, is as hard as he can possibly get.

  “You make me feel…” She huffs, not even knowing how to fill in her own sentence.

  “Wow. So she does feel.”

  Aliah narrows her eyes, but quickly replaces that look with a smile. “Yes. I only play the heartless bitch.”

  He watches her fidget with her necklace, and then closes his hand over hers to stop her. “You’re a good actress.”

  She shoves him backward, taking what he says the worst possible way. “Get away from me.” Though she tries to put some distance between them, her attempt at moving him is wildly unsuccessful.

  He catches her wrist, worried he’s already pushed her too hard. With Aliah, there seems to be a fine line between O-K and F-U.

  “I’m sorry…” he starts, but is cut off by Aliah’s pleased cackle.

  “I am pretty good, eh? I certainly had you.”

  He can’t believe he has fallen for her act. “I feel like I have to tread carefully with you. Should I ask for permission before saying anything offensive?”

  “Hah! Where would the fun be in that? It’s all good. I’m sure I can handle you in real time.”

  “Is that right?”

  Her hesitation is sweet, but the smug expression that swipes across her face makes him want to collect her hands behind her back to restrain her, while he moulds her soft curves to his hard edges.

  Would she respond to him?

  He moves his face very near hers and growls. “You only think you could handle me.”

  She doesn’t back away. “No. I can handle you.”

  His body twitches at her bold statement, only leaving him to egg her on. He wants to taste her, when he inhales the sweet nectar inviting him to her skin.

  His breath rushes over her ear. “Prove it.”

  He thinks she’ll retreat, but then he feels her silky hands discovering the inside of his leather jacket.

  “I plan to.” She spins around, grabs for his helmet and pulls it onto her head. Then she straddles the bike and massages her hands over the length of the leather seat before looking back to him expectantly.

  She looks stunning. He wants to take a picture.

  “Are we going, or what?”

  Harley takes a few steps closer and then pulls his helmet from her head.

  “Hey,” she shouts, as it snags her hair.

  “That one is mine,” he informs her.

  Aliah shoves the helmet against his chest, startling him. “Aren’t you Mr. Particular?”

  With his left hand now free, he skims his fingertips across her cheek, sending a shiver sweeping down her body. His thumb brushes across her lower lip, and his own lips comes temptingly close.

  “I am very particular.” His kiss sends her thoughts swirling. “Is that a problem?” He kisses her again, hooking onto her lower lip and pulling.

  Her strangled whimper is proof positive that she’s into him. Aliah relinquishes the helmet, when his lips curl into the sexiest of smiles. She hooks her arms around his neck and leans back, until he’s forced to toss his shiny black helmet into the grass.

  He slides her back onto the cool leather, until she’s laid out flat on his bike and he’s hovering over her, their bodies mere inches from meshing. His voice growls before the words come out.

  “You have no idea what seeing you like this does to me.”

  Aliah spreads her legs wider, the tightness of her skirt straining against her feminine curves. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  He presses himself against her. “I’d like to show you.”

  The touch of their lips starts out soft, becoming increasingly more necessary, until fireworks are exploding between them and he’s drinking from her lips like it is a life or death situation. Yes, their kiss is heated, but the way their bodies are rubbing together is highly inappropriate for a public parking lot. Aliah curls a leg over his hip, flashing her wet panties to anyone who’s watching.

  He presses on her again, as if he’s goi
ng to give it to her on the spot. If he weren’t wearing any pants then he would be fucking her this very minute. When he flexes his hips against her, she moans. His cock swells even more, but he knows one too many respectful business owners who could be watching, and he isn’t about to fuck up that arrangement… even if his cock is ready to bitch slap him.

  Her voice turns breathy, as his fingers slip into her panties between them. “Yes.”

  His fingers slip over her. She’s slick, but soft like silk. He sinks his middle finger inside of her, with his thumb making a circular motion between them. He watches her face as he eases his finger out of her and slides it back in. She’s going to cum!

  He rotates his finger and presses it deeper. He can feel her from the inside out. He grows tighter in the pants as she wraps tighter around his finger. It’s a beautiful sight, her pale, perfect lips parted in pleasure, but it’s not going to happen. He won’t let it. When he retrieves his finger, she whimpers from the loss of warmth.

  “Please!” she begs, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

  “I will. Just not here.”

  “Where?” she gasps, ready for him to get back to it immediately.

  He swallows hard, realizing he can’t take her home with him. “My sister’s staying with me, so we can’t go to my place.” He says it much too casually. He’s a good actor. “If you don’t trust me at your place…”

  “I trust you,” she pants, making him harder yet.

  He looks away to hide his wince. If she knew about his lies, she wouldn’t be quite so trusting. Once she finds out the truth, she will never trust him again.

  He makes a grab for the helmet and climbs onto his bike. He starts to adjust himself, but no adjustment can make him comfortable at this point. Until he’s able to sink into that sweet pussy, he’ll be in a whole lot of anguish.

  Aliah pulls herself to a sitting position, as he settles onto the seat in front of her. She kicks a leg over his head, to wrap her legs around the bike and he nearly loses it.

  “Here. Put this on.” He hands her his prized helmet.

  She keeps her big mouth shut, and his wild fantasy continues. She raises a brow and slides the helmet over her long, tangled hair. He rotates forward and turns on his bike. Her small hands curl under his arms and clutch onto his chest, as her inner thighs squeeze onto his legs.