Own the Wind

  “Then take it as it comes,” she shot back, not appearing offended in the slightest, her words coming out almost like a dare.

  “Lanie—” he started but she leaned in and, fuck, if he moved his mouth a quarter of an inch, it’d be on hers. She was all he could see, all he could smell, and all he could think was that she was also all he wanted to feel.

  “You know my story,” she whispered. “You think I want another guy?” She paused then finished with emphasis, “Ever?”

  He got her. Her dead old man was a moron and she paid for his shit in the worst way she could. Her loyalty bought her nothing but pain, bullet wounds, and heartache. Not to mention, her man might have been good at what he did for a living, the computer geek to end all computer geeks, but he was nothing to look at. So she not only gave love and loyalty but she stepped out of a zone no woman who looked like her had to step out of in order to give it.

  So, yeah, Elliott Belova was a moron, and she chose that. He could see her wanting to get back in the saddle but being skittish about buying the horse.

  She just wasn’t going to do it with him.

  Hop started to lift his hands to curl them around her upper arms and set her away but she moved fast, lifting hers to curl them around the sides of his neck, and they felt warm. Her perfume assaulted him straight on and he stilled.

  “I do not want that,” she carried on. “What I want is… you. For one night. Just one night.”

  Fuck him.

  Fuck him.

  “Lady,” he muttered but before he could say more, she kept talking.

  “It was… I know you know where I was back then and who I was with and I know you had a woman then too, Hop, but still, that night I met you, I couldn’t help but notice you were good-looking. But you’re not with anyone anymore, and I’m seriously not with anyone anymore, and I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, just too scared to do anything about it. Now I’ve decided I’m doing something about it.”

  “I gotta say, I like it that you’re into me, babe,” he returned gently. “Already told you that you’re beautiful, and under any other circumstances, I would not hesitate to take you up on an offer this sweet. So you gotta know it’s killin’ me, even as you gotta trust me when I say this is not a good idea.”

  “I’ve had no one since him,” she whispered and, acting on their own, Hop’s hands came up and settled on her waist, giving it a squeeze and he didn’t know why. The move was intimate but comforting. The news that this woman, this crazy-gorgeous woman and all that was her hadn’t had a man between her legs in fucking years moved him even as it troubled him.

  “Lanie, honey,” he muttered, not having that first fucking clue what else to say.

  “I’ve thought on it and decided it’s you.” Her hands at his neck gave him a squeeze and fuck him, fuck him, that moved him even more. “I understand why you don’t want to, but I promise, Hop, I swear, no kidding, seriously, no strings. No expectations. Just us. One night. Tomorrow, it will be like it’s always been. Like it didn’t even happen. I promise, Hop. Swear.”

  Her hands slid down to his chest but she didn’t move away as she finished laying it out.

  “Now, I’m going to your room and I’m going to wait there for fifteen minutes. If you don’t show, no harm, no foul. I promise that too. Nothing changes between us. No one knows anything.” She sucked in a breath and took a half step back, her hands falling away when she concluded in a quiet voice, “But”—she hesitated—“I really hope you show.”

  With that, not giving him a chance to say another word, she turned and strutted her narrow ass back through the loud, rowdy, drunk bikers and their bitches, her hair swaying, her arms moving gracefully, her scent still in his nostrils.

  “Shit,” he whispered when he watched her haul open the door to the Compound.

  “Shit,” he repeated when the door closed behind her.

  He kept his eyes on the door and he did this awhile.

  That woman, that crazy-gorgeous woman, was right now in his room.

  “Shit,” he whispered yet again, right before he made his way to the door.

  * * *

  Hopper broke contact with Lanie’s hooded eyes, eyes that were a fuckuva lot sexier since he’d just come inside her, and he did it hard and he did it long and he shoved his face in her neck.

  All he could smell was her. All he could feel was her warm, soft body under his, one of her legs wrapped around the back of his thigh, the other one cocked high, her thigh pressed to his side but her calf was swung in, her heel resting in the small of his back. Her arms were tight around him, one at his shoulders, one angled, resting along his spine. Last, he could feel his cock buried in her unbelievably tight, wet cunt.

  He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was that she’d never had kids. Maybe it was because it had been so long since she had a man. Whatever it was, her pussy was close to virgin, it was so tight. Luckily, it was also sleek. Luckier, it tasted like goddamned honey.

  He was right when they were talking outside.

  This was about to get complicated.

  Her head moved, and he felt her lips at his ear even as he heard her soft, tentative words, “Was that all right?”

  Hop closed his eyes even as his hips reflexively pressed into hers and he gently fisted the hand he had buried in her hair.

  She was worried she was out of practice. She was worried it wasn’t good for him. And considering the fact that if she was out of practice, when she got into the swing of things, she’d be off the charts, her worry was both cute and sweet and, like everything else about her, it did a number on him.

  Yes, things were going to get complicated.

  He opened his eyes, moved his head so his lips were at her ear, and he murmured, “Lady, I don’t fake it. Not only because I can’t but because even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

  All her limbs convulsed around him even as her cunt did the same, and Jesus God, it felt seriously fucking good.

  Then it got better when her body started moving under him, her limbs stayed tight around him, and he heard her husky, low chuckle in his ear.

  He lifted his head in an effort to watch her face in laughter in the dark. Once she got back to Denver and Tyra got her hands on her, Lanie laughed a lot. He liked watching her laugh. It was always, every time he saw it, a good show.

  It was better now because he could feel it. Even though he couldn’t see much, the little he saw was still pure beauty.

  Totally complicated.

  He liked her smell. He liked her feel. He liked the sound of her low laughter. He liked her uncertainty. He liked how hard she made him come. And he liked how hard she came for him, her pussy tightening around his cock, her long limbs wound around his body holding on, her soft pants and moans sweet to his ear, and, best of all, the look on her beautiful face when he gave it to her.

  Totally fucking complicated.

  He waited until she stopped laughing before he slid his hand out of her hair to her jaw and then rubbed the pad of his thumb across her lips while he asked, “How you feelin’?”

  “Uh… good,” she answered, her words meant to be an obvious understatement, her lips moving against his thumb tilting up even as she spoke.

  “Good enough for another go?” he asked, his thumb pressing in, pulling at her unbelievably full lower lip and he felt her shift under him.

  He knew what that shift meant even before her voice came at him, breathy, “Another go?”

  He replaced his thumb with his lips. “Yeah, another go.”

  “So soon?” She sounded disbelieving.

  “You’re gonna have to work me up, lady, but… yeah. Soon as you’re ready, my mouth wants more of that pussy.”

  She wanted that too. He knew it because her body trembled under his.

  “Yeah, I’m, um… good for another go,” she told him, her sweet voice still breathy.

  “Then don’t move.” He pressed his lips to hers before he lifted his head. “Gotta hit the can
and I’ll be back.”

  “I won’t move,” she whispered.

  She better not, he thought. If she did, he’d find her and haul her back. He didn’t care if she beamed her ass to Mars.

  Fuck.

  Complicated.

  He knew it and didn’t give a fuck as he slid out of her, kissed her throat, feeling her skin, smelling her scent, and rolled off her and the bed so he could make his way to the bathroom to get rid of his condom.

  When he got back, she hadn’t moved, but seconds later she did, because he moved her.

  He parted her legs, swung them over his shoulders, and didn’t hesitate a second before he dipped his face into pure honey.

  * * *

  Hop exited the bathroom and saw Lanie sitting at the side of his bed, her back to him, putting on her bra.

  “What the fuck you doin’?” he growled and, shit, that was it. He couldn’t deny it. Even he heard it.

  He growled.

  She twisted and he felt her eyes on him in the dark.

  “Ty-Ty and Tack are down the hall. They won’t come up for air until the morning, and it’s almost morning so I should be gone by then.”

  “You’re not goin’,” he informed her, putting a knee to the bed and moving her way.

  “I’m… oof,” she puffed as he hooked her at the belly, yanked her to her back in the bed, and rolled on top of her. She blinked up at him through the dark and finished, “Not?”

  “Not done with you,” he informed her.

  “You’re…” again with the breathy something he felt in his gut, chest, and dick “… not?” and again with the disbelieving.

  Totally disbelieving.

  “I’m not,” Hop confirmed.

  “Is that even…” a pause, then “… possible?”

  “Is what possible?” he asked.

  “Three times in an, erm… night?”

  Obviously, Belova wasn’t only messed up, fucked up, and stupid, he clearly had no stamina, which was fucking insane. A ninety-year-old man had a shot at that beauty, he’d find a way to get it up and do it repeatedly even if it killed him.

  “Yeah it’s possible.”

  Hop watched her head tilt on the pillow. “I… no offense, Hop, but I don’t believe you.”

  Fucking excellent.

  He slid his hands up her sides as he dropped his mouth to hers. “Right. Good, then, babe. I get to prove it to you.”

  Close up, he watched her eyes get wide.

  “Wow,” she whispered against his lips.

  “Don’t say that now,” he ordered. “You can say that later, like you did after I did that thing with my fingers the second time.”

  Her body shifted under his, her chest pressing up, she remembered something he knew she wouldn’t soon forget and she repeated a whispered, “Wow.”

  He grinned against her mouth and promised, “I’ll give you wow.”

  “You’ve already given me three wows,” she reminded him.

  “Four,” he corrected.

  “Oh yeah,” she muttered, her hands moving light down the skin of his back. “I forgot that one because it came so close on the heels of that other one.”

  Her hands made it to his ass, so he decided their conversation was over and to communicate that to Lanie, he asked, “Are we gonna keep talkin’ or do you want wow?”

  She moved her head, sliding her lips from his, down his cheek to his jaw and finally his ear.

  Once they were there, she murmured, “Give me wow.”

  With his mouth at her neck, he trailed it down to her collarbone then engaged his tongue and, after, taking his time and a lot of it, he gave her wows five and six.

  * * *

  Hop came out of the bathroom to see Lanie on her feet on the other side of the bed, panties on, hands twisted behind her back putting her bra on.

  He didn’t say a word. He prowled to her, reached out an arm the second he was close, yanked her to him, twisted and fell to his back in the bed, taking her down with him.

  “Hop—” she started, pushing her weight against his arms but he slid her off him then wasted no time rolling over her and pinning her to his bed.

  “Sleep,” he ordered when he caught her eyes in the weak dawn. “After rest, I’ll get coffee, we’ll juice up, then round four.”

  She blinked and breathed, “Four?”

  “Got lots more I want to do to you,” he informed her and watched her eyes go soft and sexier, her teeth came out to graze her lush lower lip, also fucking sexy, and her arms slid around him.

  But she asked, “What about Tack and Ty-Ty?”

  “I’ll make sure the coast is clear,” he told her.

  “But they’ll see my car,” she told him.

  “I’ll move it,” he offered.

  Her hand slid up his back, around his shoulder, and then to his neck, where her thumb moved to stroke him. It was light but fuck, it felt good. He’d never had a woman touch him in an unconscious way like that, just a touch, a stroke, giving something that meant nothing and at the same time just doing it and doing it without thinking about it meant everything.

  Shit.

  Complicated.

  “This is just supposed to be one night,” she reminded him quietly, but he saw it in her eyes. She didn’t even try to hide it. She bit off more than she could chew.

  He did too, and he was nowhere near done eating.

  “Change of plans. A night and a morning and, maybe, an afternoon and, possibly, another night,” he amended, and her eyes got softer as her hand slid up to cup his jaw.

  “I have to work,” she told him.

  “Call off,” he told her.

  “I can’t. I own the joint,” she explained something he knew. “And things are a bit crazy.”

  Things were always crazy for Lanie. The woman lived crazy, she thrived on it. If there wasn’t crazy, she stirred it up because she couldn’t breathe without it.

  “Babe—” he pressed his body into hers “—told you, got more I want to do to you.”

  He felt her shiver but her lips whispered, “Hop, I don’t—”

  He cut her off with a quick kiss then lifted his head and asked, “Where are your keys?”

  “We shouldn’t sleep together. Sleeping is bad. Sex is good, sleeping together is something else,” she stated, and she was right. Sex was sex. Sleeping together was something else.

  He just didn’t care.

  “Where are your keys?” he asked.

  “Hop—”

  “Lady, we’re not sleeping, we’re resting then we’re fucking some more. Last time I’ll say it, not done with you, got things I want to do to you and I’m doin’ them. Now, where… are… your… keys?”

  She stared up at him, her gaze hot, her body bothered, shifting under his, and she whispered, “Jeans pocket.”

  He pushed into her, pressing down and stretching out to reach a hand to the floor. He grabbed her jeans, got in the pocket, and yanked out her keys. Once he had them in hand, he went back to her and kissed her. He took his time, it was wet, deep, and fucking brilliant.

  When she was holding on tight and kissing him back like she never wanted it to end, he ended it. Lifting his lips to her forehead, he touched them there then dipped his chin and looked into her eyes.

  “Rest, honey. I’ll move your car and be back.”

  “Okay,” she agreed quietly.

  He bent in, touched his mouth to hers, rolled off, grabbed his jeans, a tee, pulled on socks and his boots, and he only turned back at the door before he slid through it, still mostly closed.

  She was curled in an S in his bed, pillow to her chest, cheek resting on it, arms around it, hair everywhere. Her bare back was exposed, and he could see one leg and her ass in red, lace panties. Eyes on him.

  Fucking gorgeous, every inch, and it tasted and felt as good as it looked.

  She grinned.

  Gorgeous.

  He returned it, slid through the door, and went after her car.

  When he
got back, she was out.

  He took off his clothes, dropped them to the floor, and slid into bed with her. Carefully, he turned her into his arms.

  She didn’t wake. She just cuddled closer, her arm snaking across his stomach then holding tight, her torso pressing into his, her knee cocked and resting on his thigh.

  This felt good too.

  She was right, they shouldn’t sleep together. Sleeping suggested something more. An intimacy neither of them wanted. Sleeping like this with her, it feeling so good, it was, with everything else, enough to make you want a fuckuva lot more.

  So it was good, Hop thought, that they weren’t sleeping, they were just resting.

  On that thought, he fell asleep, Lanie curved close and held tight in his arm, her perfume all over his sheets, and he did it smiling.

  * * *

  Three hours later, Hop woke and he did not smile.

  Lanie’s perfume was still all over the sheets.

  Lanie just wasn’t in them.

  * * *

  Hop was stretched out on the fluffy cushion on the lounge chair in her courtyard, feet crossed at the ankles, eyes trained to the back door of the garage.

  He had no idea how late it was, he just knew it was dark and he’d been there a really fucking long time.

  Too long.

  Long enough for him to get pissed.

  Or more pissed.

  He heard her garage door go up and didn’t move when he heard it or when he heard the purr of her sweet ride moving into it. A pearl-red Lexus LFA. According to word on Chaos, her father bought it for her.

  High class ran in the family. So did money.

  He only moved off the chair when he heard the garage door going down.

  He was on his feet when the outside lights to her courtyard that separated her brownstone from the garage came on, but he didn’t move from his spot even as the door opened.

  She strode out, sex on heels stilettos, tight skirt, tailored blazer that was unbelievably feminine, hair out to there, slim, shiny, expensive briefcase in her hand, trim, small designer purse over her shoulder.

  A cosmo girl tricked out in business gear.