Read Online Guns & Dusty Roads: The Iron Brotherhood Series by Samantha Westlake - Free Book Online
Authors: Samantha Westlake
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below the surface. His mouth was ever so slightly open, just enough so that his lips had the slightest little hint of pucker. He tasted lightly of beer, of refreshing coolness.
Kara kissed him back so forcefully that both of them went tumbling off of their rickety wooden chairs and ended up down on the floor, to a cheer from the other bikers in the bar.
She didn’t even notice the commotion, or the shift in gravity.
CHAPTER 8
The next thing Kara knew, she was in a bedroom, tugging Cross’s shirt up over his head as he nuzzled at her neck. She could feel his breath hot on the lobe of her ear, and it made her own breathing come in labored panting.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggle, the man helped her out, pulling his shirt off of his chest. The motion revealed rippling muscles beneath, perfectly sculpted on a broad chest, and Kara felt another hot wave of desire come coursing through her body.
Down in her stomach, Kara could feel the residual heat from those drinks. She had definitely lost count. Hell, even sorority girls managed to draw lines on their arms so that they could figure out the damage later. All Kara could remember of the bar was the blur of shots sliding in front of her, instantly replacing anything she tossed back.
And Cross had kept on talking to her, sitting so close that she couldn’t think of anything else. Not her mission, not her vaunted professionalism, nothing but the faint scent of motor oil and grease, of comfortable, well-worn leather, of road dust and honest sweat that came from his body, coupled with the faintest little hint of clean aftershave.
No, not Cross, Kara thought to herself, the words rising up out of the boiling stew of wordless desire that had overwhelmed her mind like a floater in a pot of water.
Christopher.
Christopher Rhodes, that was his name. Somehow, she’d managed to cling to that one thought as the rest of the bar dissolved.
Christopher was the man kissing her neck, his lips soft and insistent against her as he knelt beneath her on the bed. Kara had her legs spread wide, straddling his lap. When she bore down against him, she could feel him pushing back, hard and insistent.
Christopher was the one with a bulge pushing up against her, betraying exactly what he wanted to do to her - and what she wanted from him - as his hands crawled their way up across the skin of her back, beneath her shirt.
Christopher was the one whose questing fingers had now found the strap of her bra - and in a single little fluid motion, clicked it free. Kara felt the loosening around her ribs, the straps already sliding down off of her shoulders.
She paused, lifting her arms, and Cross - Christopher - tugged the shirt free.
Now, they were both naked from the waist up, their hands running joyously over each other’s bodies in a furor of exploration. Cross could feel her softness, even as she admiringly stroked his hardness.
Christopher leaned forward, pressing down on her as their lips locked together once again. Kara felt her balance shift backwards, until she landed on the bed, the biker catching himself only just above her. As they had rolled, that hard length in his pants had come up, rubbing at her hips, reminding her that she was still wearing far too many clothes.
For that matter, so was this man. Kara’s hands scurried downward, across those hard muscles, until they found the snap at the waist of Cross’s jeans. That had to go. She popped it with a twist, cursing how drink made her fingers feel so clumsy.
The man was waiting just inside of those pants, already almost bursting out - as soon as Kara broke the tight waist cinch, he almost exploded out, into her hand. Even through the thin, soft cotton of the man’s boxers, she could feel him, pulsing and hot.
It only took a single yank to free him, and then he was fully out, big and pink and right there in her hands, full of charged sexual aggression.
But
Kara kissed him back so forcefully that both of them went tumbling off of their rickety wooden chairs and ended up down on the floor, to a cheer from the other bikers in the bar.
She didn’t even notice the commotion, or the shift in gravity.
CHAPTER 8
The next thing Kara knew, she was in a bedroom, tugging Cross’s shirt up over his head as he nuzzled at her neck. She could feel his breath hot on the lobe of her ear, and it made her own breathing come in labored panting.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggle, the man helped her out, pulling his shirt off of his chest. The motion revealed rippling muscles beneath, perfectly sculpted on a broad chest, and Kara felt another hot wave of desire come coursing through her body.
Down in her stomach, Kara could feel the residual heat from those drinks. She had definitely lost count. Hell, even sorority girls managed to draw lines on their arms so that they could figure out the damage later. All Kara could remember of the bar was the blur of shots sliding in front of her, instantly replacing anything she tossed back.
And Cross had kept on talking to her, sitting so close that she couldn’t think of anything else. Not her mission, not her vaunted professionalism, nothing but the faint scent of motor oil and grease, of comfortable, well-worn leather, of road dust and honest sweat that came from his body, coupled with the faintest little hint of clean aftershave.
No, not Cross, Kara thought to herself, the words rising up out of the boiling stew of wordless desire that had overwhelmed her mind like a floater in a pot of water.
Christopher.
Christopher Rhodes, that was his name. Somehow, she’d managed to cling to that one thought as the rest of the bar dissolved.
Christopher was the man kissing her neck, his lips soft and insistent against her as he knelt beneath her on the bed. Kara had her legs spread wide, straddling his lap. When she bore down against him, she could feel him pushing back, hard and insistent.
Christopher was the one with a bulge pushing up against her, betraying exactly what he wanted to do to her - and what she wanted from him - as his hands crawled their way up across the skin of her back, beneath her shirt.
Christopher was the one whose questing fingers had now found the strap of her bra - and in a single little fluid motion, clicked it free. Kara felt the loosening around her ribs, the straps already sliding down off of her shoulders.
She paused, lifting her arms, and Cross - Christopher - tugged the shirt free.
Now, they were both naked from the waist up, their hands running joyously over each other’s bodies in a furor of exploration. Cross could feel her softness, even as she admiringly stroked his hardness.
Christopher leaned forward, pressing down on her as their lips locked together once again. Kara felt her balance shift backwards, until she landed on the bed, the biker catching himself only just above her. As they had rolled, that hard length in his pants had come up, rubbing at her hips, reminding her that she was still wearing far too many clothes.
For that matter, so was this man. Kara’s hands scurried downward, across those hard muscles, until they found the snap at the waist of Cross’s jeans. That had to go. She popped it with a twist, cursing how drink made her fingers feel so clumsy.
The man was waiting just inside of those pants, already almost bursting out - as soon as Kara broke the tight waist cinch, he almost exploded out, into her hand. Even through the thin, soft cotton of the man’s boxers, she could feel him, pulsing and hot.
It only took a single yank to free him, and then he was fully out, big and pink and right there in her hands, full of charged sexual aggression.
But
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