He gazed down her body. Her short skirt wouldn't hide much once she straddled the seat. The flip flops wouldn't protect her feet. The night air could get chilly, but he wasn't going far.
"What's your name, babe?" He put on his helmet.
"Dinah."
He stepped in front of her, liking how she was tall enough that when she lifted her chin to look into his eyes, she was at the perfect height to kiss her if he lowered his head. "That's a pretty name."
Her tongue came out and moistened her plump bottom lip. "And, yours?"
"Brage," he said, before he captured her mouth, taking the kiss deeply from the start.
She held the top of her helmet and sucked on his tongue, taking a submissive position, and letting him lead. His balls tightened. She was all up for sex.
Pulling back, he pinned her with his gaze and rolled the small ball of gum he'd stolen from her with his tongue.
Cinnamon.
She tasted like God damn cinnamon.
He turned his head, spit the gum on the ground, wanting nothing getting in his way to her, and sat his motorcycle, starting the engine. Cinnamon was like a drug to him.
He added the spice to his coffee, his pancakes, his toast. Having her taste like something that brought him pleasure only made him want her more.
Dinah toed the back peg into the down position and climbed on behind him. For a fleeting second, he wondered how many motorcycles she'd ridden on before, but the answer wasn't any of his business.
He rode down the alley and slowed as the prospect opened the gate, then accelerated getting out onto the road. In a matter of minutes, he arrived at the intersection with Taco Bell in front of him on the left side of the street.
Dinah patted his stomach, pointed with her left hand, and loud enough for him to hear, said, "Black Jeep."
He took in the vehicle with the lift and aftermarket tires and whistled under his breath. It was the opposite of what he'd expect a woman to drive and in the same breath, impressed him.
Turning into the lot, there were only three cars parked nearby. The offices lining the small plaza were closed for the night, and he suspected the owners of the vehicles were at the Slag party and had decided to walk there, like Dinah, because of the limited parking in the alley.
He looped around and backed his Harley into the parking spot next to the Jeep. Shutting off the engine, he felt movement behind him as Dinah slid off the motorcycle. He followed her off and took the helmet from her as she shook out her hair. Before she could move, he cupped her hip with his hand.
She moved toward him, questioning him with her gaze. Hotter than hell, it was clear she came to the clubhouse for some personal attention. Attention, he could give her.
"Tell me no if you've changed your mind," he said.
She looked him in the eyes. "Yes."
He hooked her neck and brought her closer, swooping down and kissing her. His dick pulsed and he swung her around and backed her against her Jeep, pressing the lower half of his body against her.
Her body softened and formed to him. She had long legs, putting her at the perfect height for him.
Reaching down with his free hand, he cupped her hip and caressed down her thigh, picking up her leg and opening her up. The warmth of her body heated the front of his jeans.
His cock hardened. He squeezed her leg, holding her tight against him.
Dinah pulled at his beard, trying to get closer. He growled, dipping his knees and stroked her pussy with the front of his jeans. The added torment only had him wanting to undo his belt and allow himself room to show her his full size.
He worked his fingers in her hair, fisted the strands, and pulled her mouth off him. "I want to fuck."
She glanced out at the street, then toward the building. He took the decision out of her hands and moved her to the front of the vehicle. If she needed privacy, he could make it impossible for her to see if anyone was looking.
It wouldn't take long. He was good to go.
Slipping his hands up inside the short skirt she wore, he searched for the strip of material covering her pussy and came up empty. He looked into her eyes as dawning came through his fogged arousal.
She wasn't wearing any panties.
He removed his hand from her body and undid his belt. She slid her hands up and held his face, taking advantage of his distraction trying to get his cock out of his jeans, and kissing him deeper.
Caught up in what she could do with her tongue in his mouth, he hooked her around the waist and tugged her against him, grinding his hardness between them.
She jerked her head back. "Condom?"
"Pocket." He caught her mouth again, needing more.
Nothing stopped her—not his mouth, not his cock bared against her stomach, not his size, or pressing her against the Jeep as traffic flowed on the street behind her. She dove her hand into the front pocket of his jeans and searched for protection. He groaned as her fingers skimmed his enlarged dick.
"I got it," she mumbled against his lips.
He blindly reached for her hand, found the condom, and pulled away from her, hurrying to coat himself.
Dinah's heavy breathing as she remained leaning against the vehicle left his cock pulsating under his fingers. He looked up. Her arousal stared at him underneath heavily lidded eyes.
Once the condom was on, he moved back toward her and cupped her breast underneath her halter, setting it free. Even in the darkness, her nipple stood out for attention. Taking her breast in his mouth, he tongued the hard bead, drawing it deeper into his mouth.
She shuddered on a moan. That feminine sound excited him.
He pulled his mouth off her and turned her around.
"Hold on to the bumper." He held on to her hips
