Free Player: Stone Cold MC by Carmen Faye

bed, and I was tired.
     
    “Tomorrow is the big day,” I said. Rip turned to me, jacket in hand. He stood very close to me, and I was aware of the heat rolling off his body. “Are you nervous?”
     
    He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got me covered with everything you showed me. We’ll be fine.”
     
    I nodded.
     
    “Besides, with someone like you at my side, what can go wrong?”
     
    It was a flirt line, and I knew it. I blushed nevertheless. Maybe it was the wine in my system that had let me drop my guard. Maybe it was the fact that the time we’d spent together had been nice. Rip was a nice guy, not nearly as much of an asshole as I was set to believe in the beginning.
     
    I don’t know where it changed from normal talking to something more, but the atmosphere was suddenly thicker, and I took a deep breath to make sure I could still get air into my lungs. Rip stepped closer to me, so close that our chests almost touched, and I didn’t step away. He looked at me, and I wasn’t sure what I saw in his face, but his pupils were dilated, mouth slightly parted, and his eyes slid down to my lips.
     
    I kept my eyes trained on his. They’d become an electric blue, and when he looked at me, it felt like he physically touched me.
     
    I was the one who inched my face closer to his. Not all the way so that I was the one making the first move, but enough to let him know what I wanted. He took the hint. I didn’t have to ask twice. He closed the small distance between us, pressing his lips against mine.
     
    He tasted of beer, and I could smell the cologne he wore on his skin. Day old cologne, something he’d put on that morning.
     
    He put his hands on my cheeks, cupping my face, and pushed his tongue into my mouth. I let him.
     
    His tongue chased around mine for a short while, and then he closed the gap between our bodies, completely pressing up against me with the length of his body so that there was no space between us. His body was hard and muscled under all those clothes. I wasn’t sure if it was because of all his moving around, or if he trained when he wasn’t with me, but his body felt good against mine.
     
    As if he knew what I was thinking, his hand moved from my cheek to the small of my back, and he pulled me even tighter against him. I sighed into his mouth. He ran his other hand into my hair and held a handful loosely against my scalp, not hurting me at all.
     
    We’d been kissing for a while when he pulled me onto the couch, him underneath so that I lay mostly on top of him, able to call the shots. If I wanted to stop, I could get off him, and it wouldn’t be awkward at all. I didn’t want to stop though. I wanted to keep going. My body was suddenly on fire, heat pooling between my legs, and I wanted more of him against me, with no clothes as a barrier between us.
     
    He pushed his hand under my shirt and his skin was on mine on my back. His hands were large and warm, and the skin was rough as if he did physical labor. He stroked his hand up and down, his other hand on my hip. I moved against him in the same rhythm as he was stroking me, slowly grinding against him, giving him a part of my body already.
     
    I could feel him in his pants. He was hard and ready for me, pressing against my lower stomach and pubic bone. I ground against him, feeling his lust build up at the same time mine did.
     
    I was the one who broke the kiss and got off him. His eyes followed me. I took his hand and pulled on it so that he would get up. I didn’t say anything; it felt like words were going to ruin it. I just tugged him with me, and he followed me. I led him to the bedroom and let go of his hand to close the curtains in front of the window. He stood in the middle of my bedroom, but instead of looking around he was watching me. His eyes followed me—like a predator tracking its prey.
     
    He came to me by the window when I turned. He kissed me again, and his hands slipped under my tank top.