Free Running With the Devil by Lorelei James

until his heavy breath tickled her legs. He inhaled deeply and shuddered. “Wouldn’t take much for me to rip that thong aside and set my mouth on you.”
    “No, it wouldn’t.”
    “Would you let me?”
    “Let you what?”
    “Bury my tongue inside you? Lick you until I’ve tasted every secret inch of that sweet smelling pussy?”
    Kenna didn’t answer.
    Taking her silence as acquiescence, he palmed her knees, opening them wider yet.
    Despite the need pulsing through her, she fisted his soft hair in her hands, forcing his gaze to hers and away from her crotch. “Since you were in such a hurry, Agent March, you’d better hand me my other boot. We wouldn’t want to keep your partners waiting, or mess up your precious schedule.”
    Right. What a lie. To hell with Geo and Bobby. Every pulsing nerve in her core ached for the exquisite sensation of his tongue fulfilling the decadent promises his mouth had made.
    She wasn’t sure, but she thought he whimpered.
    He stood, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You fight dirty.”
    Her triumphant smile stayed in place as she zipped up her boot. Guaranteed he’d think of a suitable payback.
    Kenna stood on shaky legs and snagged her purse. “Let’s ride, Agent March.”
    No mistake. Drake really did groan that time.
    * * *

    Even with the motel located a mere mile from downtown Sturgis it took damn near forty-five minutes to reach Main Street. Drake cut the engine on the Harley and parked, searching for a landmark to locate their bike among the thousands of others.
    Motorcycles in every color of the rainbow lined the middle of Main Street as far as the eye could see. Chrome reflected in bright, shiny spots on the scorching pavement as the blistering August sun beat down.
    He climbed off the bike and steadied it as Kenna gracefully swung her leg over the seat, giving him a brief glimpse of her black thong.
    While she adjusted her clothing, he relived the agonizingly slow bike ride. Her bare legs sliding along his thighs. Her smooth arms locked tight around his torso. The soft swell of her breasts pressed into his spine.
    God. At one point he smelled her arousal as her groin rubbed against his ass whenever they stopped. Every time he’d stepped on the gas and the Harley’s seat vibrated, her breathy moans echoed in his ear.
    His dick was so hard he could’ve used it as a kickstand.
    She patted her head, making sure the wig had stayed in place and slid pink sunglasses higher on her nose.
    “The Back Door Saloon is about two blocks down.”
    “Why are we going there anyway?”
    Drake pocketed the keys. “I’m meeting someone.”
    Her sharp gaze pierced him even through her dark shades. “Was this a prearranged meeting?”
    “Yes. I don’t have time to explain.” Nor could he tell her what was going down. He snagged her hand and pulled her along behind him.
    They wended through the people clogging the sidewalk. Most everyone wore black and the crowd rippled with energy. Heat rose from the sidewalk, making it impossible to breathe. They bypassed the Hooters tent and a leather vendor specializing in bondage gear. When Kenna stopped to check out the wide selection of cock rings, Drake dragged her away.
    A leggy brunette—her size 46DDs bursting from a microscopic snakeskin bikini top—had draped a ten-foot python across her tanned shoulders. She blew him a kiss and crooked her finger at him with a come-hither smile. He shook his head. So far Sturgis had lived up to its name.
    Above the entrance to the Back Door Saloon hung a sign, “Ladies: A Free Beer for a Free Show.”
    Kenna’s lips tickled his ear. “I am not showing my tits to every pervert in the bar just for a free Coors Light, Drake.”
    He turned so they were only a breath away. “I wouldn’t dream of asking.” He lightly brushed his mouth over hers. “And I don’t share,” he said, sinking his teeth into her fleshy bottom lip. He immediately licked away the pain of the sting, tasting the sweetness of