Tack kept talking as his fingers slid up, up, up until they were stroking me at the side of my breast and my quivers went into overdrive, setting a new level on the pleasant scale. “Now, we gonna explore what we’re buildin’?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
His head came up and his gaze captured mine.
“Good, Red,” he whispered back, “now f**kin’ kiss me.”
“Okay,” I said softly, my hand at his chest moving up to curl around his neck and sift into his hair. My hand at his waist becoming an arm around his lower back. And my feet rolling up on my toes.
I pressed my lips to his.
That was all I had to do. Tack pressed me back into the wall, his hand in my hair moving so his arm could curve around my shoulders and hold me close as his tongue thrust into my mouth. I liked that, the feel of it, the taste of him and I melted fully into his body.
Tack growled into my mouth and held on tighter, his tongue thrusting deeper, faster.
I liked the growl. I liked what his tongue was doing. So I returned the gesture of holding on tight.
It was going from good to really good when we both heard the doorknob rattle.
Tack tore his mouth from mine on another growl, this one annoyed, and his head snapped around to look over his shoulder at the door. I tipped my body to the side and looked around him, also at the door.
“Locked,” we heard a woman say from the other side of the door.
“What? Why? Says right there, office hours, eight to five,” another woman snapped.
“It may say that, Elvira, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t locked,” a third woman pointed out.
“Fuck,” Tack muttered, his arms giving me a squeeze just as an imperative knock came at the door.
“Hello!” the second woman’s voice shouted. “Anyone in there? Open the door!”
“Fuck!” Tack clipped tersely, let me go but grabbed my chin between thumb and finger and tipped it up to him as he bent his neck. His mouth touched mine then he released my chin and stalked to the door.
I watched.
Seriously, he looked good in jeans.
And tees.
And motorcycle boots.
And moving.
He also looked good standing still.
And holding me close in his arms.
Hmm.
Yes, the conclusion was most definitely foregone.
I watched him open the door and then I watched in surprise as three women surged in, practically bowling over scary biker dude Kane “Tack” Allen in order to do so.
One was a gorgeous, curvy blonde. Another was a gorgeous, curvy brunette. And the last was a gorgeous, very curvy black woman.
The blonde smiled broadly at Tack and said, “Yo.”
The brunette smiled more timidly at Tack then her eyes slid to me.