Free Bomb (Ruin Outlaws MC #1) by Amy Isan

something tells me he isn’t breaking a dry spell like I am.
    He plants his hand on my ass and picks me up, only turning to set me down on the couch. With my head wedged between the worn cushions, he kneels down between my legs, planting firm and warm kisses on my skin. Usually I’d close my eyes at this point, to try and fixate on the pleasure, but watching him work his magic on me is the pleasure. He dips down between my thighs and slips my panties off, before going back down and savoring a taste. I can’t believe it’s happening. Without a thought, my hand stretches down to urge him in the right direction, and he obeys without an inch of protest. Soon, I’m swimming in euphoria, the entire apartment falling away around me and nothing but his touch and the firm cushions under my shoulder blades.
    I must have fallen asleep, I tell myself. There’s no way he showed up out of the blue to break this tension. He stands up, and I shake myself to my senses. His bulge looks eager to burst from his jeans, and a part of me wants it to, but I know I shouldn’t let him go so far.
    “Logan,” I break the silent staccato of skin and breathing once more. “We shouldn’t...”
    He grins, and despite myself, I do too. Even I know the words are hollow tokens at this point, but a part of me wants to resist. I never fall for men of his type... He squeezes his erection through his jeans and a pained but hungry look crosses his face. I bite my lip and eye him. Who says I’m falling for anyone? This is just a little taste...
    “How long has it been?” he asks. I stare at him, confused by the question. I don’t want to believe he’s asking what I think he is.
    “Since...” I meander around the question, but his eyes narrow. “I’ve had sex?”
    “Yes,” he says.
    I pretend to think about it, but I know the answer. Four months. “Too long.” He gives me a roguish grin, and he starts to unzip his pants. I stare at his waist with a mixture of fear and excitement.
    “Don’t get attached.” It really has been a long time, but does that mean I should be hooking up with someone who might as well be a stranger?
    He pulls his jeans down and his boxers barely hide his cock. My legs feel tight, and my insides burn for some kind of release. I know my cheeks are red, from how much they sting to the touch. My heart races, and his look isn’t making it slow down at all.
    “I don’t even know you,” I protest. I want to smack myself, what am I doing?
    “Cassie,” he says. My name rolls off his tongue with a fire that I am scarcely aware of. “Just relax.”
    He slides his cock out of his boxers and I stare at it. I try to imagine it fitting inside me, and the thought just makes me hotter. His eyes narrow and he teases me with the head, before easing himself into me. I brace my legs around his back, catching my ankles on his hips and pulling myself closer to him. He grunts as he goes deeper, and I let out a loud moan. We really shouldn’t be doing this in the living room, but that almost makes it more exciting.
    The world fades out and it’s just me and him there. Our eyes are locked on each other, and he slowly starts to rock back and forth. Each inch slips further in me, sending me closer to the edge. Sweat beads on our foreheads, and my feet lock together behind his back. He grunts and growls with each pump, and I throw my back up and try to cool myself. I’m hyperventilating, but the urge is too much to stop. He leans over and cups my breasts, tweaking each of my nipples in cadence with his thrusts. I moan a little louder, but bite my lip and hold it in. A little self-conscious shame slips through, but I manage to push it away.
    He’s filling me, not just with his body, but I can taste his soul. He looks larger than life, his muscled arms and tattoos dancing across his skin, every movement making his stomach and eyes twitch with prolonged pleasure.
    What’s going on? He’s just some grungy biker guy, but he doesn’t act