Mettle: (Spartan Riders #2)

  Tucker wanted Talia comfortable, pliable. The last thing he wanted was to freak her out and send her running. Not when he was having so much fun.

  Already he’d used her hair as a reign, slapped her round ass until it held a rosy hue, and introduced her to the pleasures of a vibrator on her clit. He’d lost track of how many times she’d come, but he remembered every face she’d made getting there.

  Currently, she was in his arms, her back to his front. They were lying on their sides, her head resting on his bicep, her face turned toward his, and his tongue in her mouth. Her leg draped over his, opening her up wide as he pumped into her from behind while reaching around to pinch her tender, swollen clit. She was hard, engorged, and overly sensitive to his touch from all the playing they’d done, and he was enjoying how easily he could bring her to the brink.

  Already, he felt her pussy gripping him in rhythmic pulses, and he knew she was seconds away from falling apart all over again.

  “That’s it, sugar. I feel you squeezing me,” he murmured as he stroked his fingers over the hood of her clit. Her leg trembled madly, and her mouth hung open as she panted toward another climax. “Come for me, Talia. Come all over me.”

  “Tuuuuuck,” she moaned, then she reached up, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging hard. Her back arched, giving him a nice view of her beautiful breasts, and then every muscle in her body seized up.

  Tucker watched her every expression, soaking in the way her face scrunched up, the way she pursed her lips in a silent O. He increased the pressure on her mound, petting her in rough circles to draw out that low keening sound he liked to hear, and when her cheeks flushed and sweat broke out on her skin, he decided it was time to experience it for himself.

  Releasing her poor, abused pussy, Tucker braced his arm around her abdomen, curled the one under her head up to force her face back toward his. Eyes hazy from her release, Talia complied easily, using the hand she had fastened in his hair to pull him in and kissed him deep, pushing her tongue into his mouth as he pushed his cock into her pussy. The pressure he’d denied himself for hours began to build, and Tucker let loose a primal growl that she swallowed.

  They were completely entwined, their bodies locked together from top to bottom as Tucker came, exploding inside her with such ferocity that for a moment, he lost himself in sensation. His mind completely blanked as he continued to rock his hips, his movements disjoined and sloppy.

  Slowly, the haze began to lift, and Tucker once again became aware of himself and his surroundings. Talia’s hips pushed back against him and retreated, pushed and retreated in a lazy pattern that wrenched whole-body shivers from him. She giggled into his mouth every time it happened, teasing him with her mouth and her tight sheath, until Tucker gave her an admonishing but playful smack right on her pussy. “Bad girl.”

  “Ah!”

  She jolted, and Tucker grinned. He kissed her pretty little mouth one more time before withdrawing from her body. Rolling onto her back, she smiled up at him, her eyes still holding that dreamy, glazed look. She didn’t look the least bit apologetic either. “Thank you,” she breathed.

  “For what?” he asked with amusement. Tracing her flushed cheek, Tucker couldn’t help noticing how pretty she was. Stripped clean of any makeup, loved hard and well, she was like a puddle of melted chocolate beneath him, all soft and sweet and entirely edible. Even though he’d just come, he felt a spark of renewed desire stir to life.

  “For not sucking.”

  A lopsided smile creased one of Tucker’s cheeks. “I seem to recall a lot of sucking goin’ on.”

  “I mean in general,” she laughed. Her fingers trailed across his back as Tucker got out of bed and removed the condom. Rolling onto her side, she propped her head on her hand as he tied the rubber off and walked across the room to toss it into the trash can just inside the bathroom door. “I was afraid you’d suck, so I might have sent up a prayer.”

  Coming out of the bathroom, Tucker paused in the doorway, staring at her in disbelief. “You actually prayed for me to be good?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t know.”

  “Well, I should hope that all your doubts have been erased.”

  “Hmmm, maybe…”

  Her finger traced a circle in the sheet and Tucker caught the playful glint in her eyes as she looked up at him through thick lashes.

  “What part are you doubting, sugar?” he drawled as he approached. “The part where I ate you out for an hour? Or was it when you took the dildo in your ass? Or maybe,” he continued as he stopped by the side of the bed and watched her roll forward to meet him, her hand reaching out to wrap around his growing cock, “it was all the times you came?”

  “Five if I remember correctly,” she murmured. On her belly now, she lifted him to her mouth and parted her lips, taking him inside her. Her cheeks puffed as he filled her throat, and his skin tingled when she cupped his balls, and Tucker loved the way she kicked her feet up behind her as if relaxing in front of a television. So playful.

  His hand tunneled into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he took over control. Pushing his cock into her mouth, he rocked steadily, filling her mouth and sometimes her throat until she gagged on his length. He liked those times the best, watching her struggling to take all of him and imagining filling her up with his seed.

  It didn’t take long to feel that familiar burn begin to build. “Oh, sugar, you sure do know how to suck cock,” he praised. When she looked up at him, her eyes watery and her mouth stretched wide, it was his undoing. Holding her gaze, Tucker pumped his thickness between her lips. She gagged, fat tears rolling from the corners of her eyes. His balls drew up, his engorged cock thickening even more, and then he pushed himself down her throat, filling her all the way, forcing her to take every last inch as spasms overtook him.

  Roaring his release, Tucker held her head in his hands as he filled her throat and watched her swallow him down, her throat constricting around him and drawing it out even longer until every ounce of strength left in his body bled right out of him, and Tucker fell forward. Bracing his hand on the mattress was the only thing that prevented him from crashing down on top of her.

  Gently extricating herself, Talia headed into the bathroom while Tucker collapsed on the bed, breathless and boneless and completely zapped of energy.

  “Damn, woman,” he breathed and heard her answering chuckle. The water in the sink came on, turn off a moment later, then she was beside him again, her eyes bright as she laid down on her side, propped up on one arm, and stared down at him. “There’s no way you can say there wasn’t a lot of sucking now,” he teased.

  Falling forward, she laughed with abandon as her head landed on his chest and she curled into him.

  The worst part? She fit as if she’d been made to be there, and worse still? Tucker found himself smiling and laughing right along with her.

  Even worst yet? This was the usual time he sent a woman packing, but he was so busy enjoying their time together that he wasn’t inclined to rush her out the door. Talia was fun to be around, sexy as hell, and someone he could see himself wanting to spend more time with.

  Just a little longer, the voice in his head whispered…and he agreed.

  TEN

  Beneath her cheek, Talia measured Tuck’s breaths, waiting until they evened out and grew heavy before extricating herself from the bed. Now that he was asleep, she could move about freely.

  Carefully, she collected her clothing from various points around the bed, pulling each article on slowly and with great care not to make a sound. Once she was dressed, having left the shoes behind—if she got caught, she could act as if she was simply looking for the kitchen—she crept to the door and pressed her ear against it, listening for any sounds.

  Earlier, there had been so much noise coming from the front room that she’d assumed there was a party going on. At the time, it hadn’t concerned her, because she was too busy with Tuck to care. Now, though, she needed to make sure t
hat everyone had turned in for the night. She needed the place cleared out so she could do some snooping.

  In the middle of the night, when everyone was sleeping, their guard down because they felt safe and protected within their little compound, she had the perfect chance to dig for evidence.

  Hearing nothing but the common hum of electricity present in all buildings, Talia decided the coast was as clear as it was going to get. Checking over her shoulder to make sure that Tuck was still asleep—with his arm draped over his eyes and his jaw slack, he definitely was—she quietly opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

  Her assumption was right. Standing still, quiet as a church mouse, Talia could discern no movement close-by. She moved forward, taking soft steps until she reached the large common space.

  Wow, there had definitely been a party. The place was trashed, cans and bottles and garbage everywhere. The air stunk of cheap alcohol, cigarette and marijuana smoke, and the bleachy scent of sex.

  The combination was worse than a teenage boy’s bedroom, making Talia want to gag.

  Glad that she wasn’t the one who’d have to clean it up, she continued into the room, choosing every step carefully, so she didn’t hurt herself. Her first stop was the bar, figuring that most bar owners kept something of interest hidden behind it. Maybe it would be a gun or another safe, and maybe it would be something she could use to further the investigation. Maybe she’d find nothing and have to expand her search, but whichever way it went, she had to start somewhere.

  The bar was surprisingly clean, everything in its place, which spoke volumes about the bartender, which she assumed to be the gorgeous redhead she’d seen when she’d first arrived. It would figure since in her experience women tended to be the cleaner of the sexes. Tucker being the exception, of course.

  Despite the tidiness, Talia had a hard time coming up with so much as a speck of dust, let alone anything of interest. No red herrings here, she thought with a thread of disappointment. Ah well, she wouldn’t have become a member of the FBI if she expected her job to be easy.

  Moving on, Talia made her way around the room, lifting pictures on the walls, kicking baseboards with her toe, shuffling through beer sodden papers, and dipping her fingers in trash cans filled with questionable items that she’d rather not think about.

  Nothing.

  Standing in place, Talia took stock of her surroundings, considering the next place she wanted to look. “Where does a biker gang stash their secrets?” she wondered aloud.

  Women were an option, she thought. They were a reasonable bet, considering they were always around, tending to the men’s “needs” and likely engaging in pillow talk.

  Wait, no. What was she thinking? These were bikers. No way they were sharing any trade secrets with the revolving door of women, let alone having any pillow talk with them. She needed to stop thinking like a romantic and start thinking like a criminal.

  Calculating, that’s what she needed to be.

  Her gaze fixed on a set of solid double doors across the way, and she recalled Tuck and the president going in there together.

  Where better to share a secret than behind closed doors, she mused.

  Crossing the room, Talia turned the handle and pushed the door open. Anticipation acted like fuel to the fire burning inside her. She could almost taste success, she was so sure it was in there. Just a few steps away, and she’d have everything she needed to find those women and end this horrible game of cat and mouse. Human currency made her sick to her stomach and had kept her up many nights since the case landed in her lap, but tonight she could feel it in her gut—it was all coming to an end.

  And if all signs pointed to the Spartans? Tuck’s hypnotizing caramel eyes and sexy smile came to mind, and she wondered briefly what would become of him once the information came to light. A part of her didn’t want him to get into trouble, and that concerned her.

  She couldn’t have a connection with him that fast. It just wasn’t possible.

  Shaking her head clear of the disturbing thought, she pressed forward, reminding herself that her only loyalty was to those women.

  “What are you doing out of your room?”

  The hard, brusque voice gave Talia a jolt, and she spun around with a squeak, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh my God, I didn’t see you there.”

  In the dim lighting stood a man who reminded her of a scary Santa Claus. Tall and bulky with muscle, he had a stern face covered in a snow white beard that served as a stark contrast to tanned skin, and it was all set off by startling blue eyes that reminded her of the icicles that grew on the gutters of her childhood home in the winter: cold, hard, and sharp.

  Good thing she’d already met him; otherwise, she might have peed her pants. The man was scary during the day, but at night? He was the stuff of nightmares.

  Repo.

  His thick arms banded over his chest, highlighting dozens of colorful tattoos that were clearly visible thanks to his lack of a shirt.

  God, was every man in the place built like a brick wall? It made a girl feel a tad self-conscious. Clearly, they had access to some nice equipment and unlimited time to use it.

  She thought of Tuck and all that smooth, hard muscle wrapped around her and a tremor of need threaded its way through down to her toes. Oh yeah, she was in trouble.

  “I asked you a question,” Repo growled, menace rolling off him. He certainly wasn’t the nice, easy going character she’d met earlier, if he could ever be called that. “Does Country know you’re wandering around?”

  “I um…” Talia’s gaze darted around the room, searching for a plausible excuse. “I was looking for the kitchen?” He raised his eyebrows, and she realized it probably wasn’t smart to pose it as a question. Confidence was key to her mission and to staying alive long enough to complete it. Hopefully even longer than that.

  “Tuck—er, Country and I worked up a bit of an appetite…”

  The set of Repo’s jaw let her know that he didn’t really give a shit what her excuse was. “You’re not supposed to roam around without him. He told you that? ‘Cause I sure as hell did.”

  “Er, yes. You did. But everyone was asleep, so I just thought—”

  “You’re not here to think,” he snapped, then with a quickness she didn’t think possible of a man his size, he stepped forward and took ahold of her arm, then hauled her back to Tuck’s room. Throwing open the door, he tossed her back inside. “Stay here. You want something? Ask.”

  Then he was gone, the door closing with a resounding thump that had Tuck shooting up in bed as if someone had shouted “Fire!” Thank God he didn’t have a gun stashed under one of the pillows; otherwise, she would have been reduced to nothing but a splatter on the wall.

  “What is it? What’s going on?”

  Sighing deeply and ignoring her thundering heart, Talia figured she might as well make peace with the failure. Back to square one, but hey, at least she was still breathing, right? “Nothing to worry about,” she assured him as she went to retrieve her shoes.

  Tuck frowned as he watched her put them on. “Why are you dressed? Where are you going?”

  “Home,” she said, not having to fake the lethargy in her voice. There was something about disappointment that sucked the life right out of you. Now, as great as the evening had been, all she craved was a nice warm glass of milk and her own bed to sleep in.

  Running his hands through his sex-tousled hair, Tuck scooted across the bed until his long legs draped over the side and his feet touched the floor. “Give me five and I’ll give you a ride back to your car.”

  “On your bike?” As generous as the offer was, Talia had heard about the significance of women on the back of a man’s motorcycle when she’d been briefed. It was not something she planned to get tangled in. Plus, there was no way she was letting him anywhere near the FBI owned vehicle. Too much risk of being caught for her taste.

  “Is that a problem?” he questioned, detecting something in her voice.


  She gave him a look that said it all. “Thanks for the offer, but an Uber driver is already on the way,” she lied, holding up her phone. She’d make the call as soon as she had her feet on neutral ground, but she had no problem walking the countless miles back if she had to.

  Scowling at the floor, Tuck took a moment to digest that before popping to his feet. He walked toward her with a cocky kind of confidence that made Talia’s mind go crazy.

  The fact that he was completely naked helped too. The man was like Michelangelo’s “David” all chiseled and godlike. He was a symbol of physical fitness that anyone, man or woman, could be envious of.

  “I never thought I’d say this about any woman, but you’re damn near perfect,” he said once he reached her. He fingered a lock of her messy hair. No doubt, it was a tangled mass of knots, but his smirk said it all—he liked the look on her.

  “Because I’m leaving?”

  His arm dropped back to his side, and he turned away, retrieving a pair of basketball shorts from the dresser and slipping them on. Shame to cover all that hotness. “Yep, and I didn’t even have to hint at it.”

  “I think I should be offended,” Talia replied, except she wasn’t. “Why am I not offended?” she asked aloud, to no one in particular.

  “I’d say it’s because you’re a lot like me in that you don’t feel the need to attach yourself to another human being to feel self-worth, but,” he said with a casual shrug, “I hardly know you.”

  Yeah, Talia didn’t like that observation. At all. Not because it was completely inaccurate—she absolutely needed the attachment, feeling a thick desire for it every day that she woke up alone in her bed—but because it meant that he was unavailable.

  So he didn’t feel the need to commit—to anyone, apparently. Talia tried to remind herself that it didn’t matter, because they weren’t a couple and were never going to be. Just because they’d shared hours of amazing sex together, laughed and teased and connected on a level that made her question herself in ways she hadn’t since leaving her husband and moving clear across the country, it didn’t mean anything.