Free Ruthless by Gillian Archer

nodded bashfully and quickly clicked through the clock-out application on the computer. I gave Seleste a little wave and headed for the parking garage. I wanted to get the heck out of there before she changed her mind or Jerry woke up and found some reason to keep me from leaving early.
    The elevator ride took an eternity, and later the drive to my house was pure torture. The whole way over I bounced back and forth from being impatient to seriously wondering if I was whacked in the head. What was I doing? What was I thinking? Why did I tell him my address? I should’ve met him somewhere else. Anywhere else. What was my problem?
    As I turned into my driveway, my headlights illuminated Zag straddling his bike at the other end of the driveway.
    That was my problem.
    The man was like a drug in my system and I was an addict.
    I don’t even remember stopping my car and getting out. All I can remember was that one moment I was staring at a badass biker sitting in my driveway and the next he was all over me. His hands ripping the ugly pantsuit jacket off, his mouth devouring mine. We stumbled to the door, me walking backward with my hands all over his rock-hard chest. But we came to a sudden stop when my back slammed into the door.
    I didn’t care. I used the door at my back for leverage and arched into him. My leg rose on its own volition and wrapped around the back of his thigh. It gave me the perfect angle to grind against his crotch. The combination of his hardness and the seam of my pants bit into my clit and had me wanting more. More of him, more of this. More sensation to push me over the edge.
    I tore my mouth away and whispered harshly, “I want you. Now.”
    Zag’s hand moved from its tortuous caressing of my breast and dove between my thighs. His thumb found the ridge of my pant seam and ruthlessly ground it into me. “Keys?”
    My fog-induced brain couldn’t process anything past the urgent need pulsing between my legs. “What?”
    “Unless you want to go full frontal with an audience, fork over your keys.”
    Audience? I tore my gaze away from his panty-melting stare and noticed the elderly couple from down the street walking their dog. Or at least they had been. Now they were standing on the sidewalk with their mouths open.
    Feeling more than a little bit exposed—even though I was still mostly clothed—I stepped away from Zag and ran a shaky hand through my tangled hair. The tasteful bun I’d twisted it into was long gone. What was I doing? Oh God. I really hoped the Averys didn’t tell my parents the next time they were over for dinner. I’d never hear the end of it.
    I should’ve moved farther away from home.
    “Princess? Keys?”
    “What? Oh.” I patted my pockets but came up empty. Looking along the torrid path we’d taken between my car and the front door, I spotted the keys lying on the ground halfway between us and my work jacket. I stepped over and swept both up, hiding behind the curtain of my hair the entire time. Honestly, I wasn’t sure who I was hiding from. Zag. The Averys. Myself. I just knew at that exact moment I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.
    Instead I took a ridiculous amount of time trying to open the front door. My hand trembled so much I couldn’t line up the key with the lock. The combination of adrenaline, sexual tension, and confusion had wound me up so much I was shaking like a coffee addict on her fourth double espresso.
    Zag’s hand covered mine and slid the key home. With a twist of both of our wrists, the lock clicked but neither of us moved. I held my breath as Zag leaned even farther into me. His jean-covered crotch rubbed against the top of my ass, and I felt the back of my hair flutter with his breath. The dual sensations had my knees turning into jelly. And just that quickly all my doubts and worries fell away. All I could think was that I wanted this—I wanted him.
    I pushed the door open, grabbed his hand, and pulled us both through.
    The door slammed behind