“What the hell is this?” Brandon came to a stop right before Kristen and splayed his arms to include the scooter she was hopping off of. Her answer came quick and with enough sharpness to impress even Dylan.
“Well, it’s certainly not the proper way to greet a lady.”
“No.” Brandon shook his head.
“No?” That had Kristen pausing with her fingers on the buckle of her helmet. She blinked in honest, sweet confusion, but Dylan felt certain he knew what Brandon had meant.
“No,” Brandon repeated himself, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re taking this thing back.”
“I am not.” Kristen puckered up so cutely Dylan couldn’t help but smile. She was actually kind of entertaining, especially when she was pissing off Brandon.
“Yes. You are.” Brandon tried his best to intimidate the little woman, but she just sniffed and turned her back on him. “Kristen¾”
“I’m not talking to you.” She cut him off without even sparing Brandon the respect of glancing back at him.
Instead, she focused on hanging up her helmet and removing her purse from where it was strapped down on the back seat. Only then did she turn and meet Brandon’s simmering gaze.
“You, sir, are rude and boorish.” She couldn’t have said that in a prissier tone if she’d tried. “Now if you will excuse me, I don’t have time to waste listening to your pointless commands.”
With that, Kristen proudly stuck her chin in the air and walked right around Brandon. Dylan could only imagine the thoughts running through his head. He bet they were similar to the ones running through his own. They all featured Little Miss Bossy strapped down and naked, begging for more.
Just the thought had him smiling as Kristen sashayed past, and Dylan couldn’t help but turn his head to admire the sight of that prim little ass swinging beneath the heavy folds of her grandmom skirt. He was going to fuck that ass. Then they’d see how she walked after that.
“No!” Brandon’s abrupt outburst had Dylan glancing back over at his friend, who was still standing there fuming. “No!”
“Who are you talking to, man?” Dylan asked. “The woman went that way right after she dismissed you, so maybe you ought to think about lightening up your approach. Huh?”
Brandon shot Dylan a dirty look and took off after Kristen, leaving Dylan sighing and muttering to himself.
“Or maybe not. Let’s just go dig the hole deep enough to bury both ourselves in it.” Because Brandon was not going down without him.
Turning to follow Brandon back into the Bread Box, Dylan strolled back into the heavenly smelling shop. It was pretty busy, but then again, it normally was. Still, they didn’t want to be causing a scene with this many witnesses. Especially not in uniform.
Unfortunately Kristen and Brandon were already making spectacles of themselves, even if it was a silent one. She sat there in her booth with Brandon across from her, glaring hard enough to set fire to the menu Kristen held up like a shield. The sense of tension and growing expectation of an explosion already had people glancing in their direction.
It was time to diffuse the situation.
Of course, that wasn’t Dylan’s specialty. Normally he caused the situation, and Brandon diffused it. He figured he owed it to his best friend, though, to try. So Dylan joined the couple, choosing to sit next to the pretty lady instead of his steaming best friend. Kristen ignored him, too, but she didn’t manage to ignore the arm he threw over her shoulders.
“Excuse me, Deputy, what do you think you’re doing?” Frosty gray eyes turned on him with a cold blast that strangely warmed him.
She had pretty eyes and smelled like the flowers covering her skirt. Dylan could certainly see why Brandon was attracted to the lady. He surely was.
“I’m helping.” Dylan finally answered, unable to control the smile as Kristen’s frown furled with a cute look of distaste.
“Helping? And how would you be doing that?”
“By explaining a few things to you,” Dylan stated patiently before nodding toward Brandon, who looked as if he was ready to pop a vein. “See, my buddy over there, he’s an idiot.”
“On that, at least, we can agree,” Kristen shot back, but Dylan had noticed that she hadn’t shrugged his arm away or told him to move it. That had him wondering if the flush coloring her cheeks was all irritation.
“Yep.” Dylan sighed. “And he’s done something stupid.”
“He has?” Kristen raised a brow at that.
“He’s fallen for you,” Dylan confessed, receiving an instant kick under the table.
“Oh please.” Kristen rolled her eyes, appearing completely unaware of the look Brandon was now shooting Dylan.
“And when an idiot falls in love, they grow even dumber,” Dylan continued on, ignoring both Brandon’s and Kristen’s attempts to deter him. “Which is why he can’t seem to say what he’s really thinking. So, when he says no, what he’s really saying is he’s concerned.”
“Concerned?” Kristen repeated back frostily, but Dylan caught the shift in her gaze and knew that she wasn’t as cold as she wanted them to think.
She was bluffing.
“He’s afraid you’re going to get hurt. Isn’t that right, Brandon?” Dylan threw it back to his friend, hoping he could manage a decent response. He kind of did.
“You’re going to kill yourself,” Brandon barked, still seething but at least he looked more worried than mad now. “Motorcycles are dangerous things.”
“It’s a scooter.” Kristen turned the argument on him. “It doesn’t go over forty miles an hour.”
“You can still kill yourself,” Brandon insisted.
“It’s mine, and I’m not taking it back.” There was the universal tone that all women seemed born with. Kristen had just put her foot down. There would be no winning this battle. “Besides, it none of your concern…either of your concern.”
Kristen shot that at Dylan as she turned those mesmerizing eyes back on him. Dylan was wondering if they’d go clear or cloudy when she came. He’d love to see those puckered little lips gasping for breath as he made her come again and again. Once he had her limp and completely at his beck and call, he was going to take that little pout for a ride. She was so little, though, he didn’t know if she’d be able to swallow him whole.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kristen asked, her gaze narrowing on Dylan.
Brandon knew why, and it earned Dylan another kick as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly too hard and big for his britches. That hadn’t happened in a while.
“No reason,” Dylan said smoothly as he pulled his arm back and put some distance between him and Kristen.
He needed the moment and the fresh air to get control of his unruly body, but that control escaped him. For the first time in a really long time, he couldn’t seem to will his dick down. It was rebelling.
It wanted Kristen. Normally it wasn’t so picky, which made this moment kind of alarming. Was Brandon contagious? Was he coming down with the same virus? No. That would not happen to him.
“Are you okay?” Kristen asked, her gaze suddenly sweetly concerned, and Dylan felt his heart pound.
“Oh shit.” This could not be happening. Not to him. “I gotta go.”
Dylan didn’t know what he was doing. All he knew was that he was running on emotion. Emotion and need. Right then he needed Kristen. That didn’t make what he was doing right. It also didn’t mean he wouldn’t get slapped, but he didn’t.
Kristen’s hands came up, no doubt to shove him away, but as Dylan’s tongue sank into the sweet ambrosia of her mouth, her fingers, instead, curled around his shirt as she clung to him. For a moment, she stood just like that, stiff and uncertain. Then a second later she was melting against him just like she had on the dance floor, and all of Dylan’s control shattered in an instant.
It left him stunned and weakened, at the mercy of primitive needs that drove him to want more. Like a hot lance, that need seared through him as Kristen’s tongue began to duel with his, her fingers burying themselves in his hair as her body lifted toward him in open invitation.
Dylan growled, reveling in Kristen’s surrender. The soft feel of her breasts swelling against his chest, along with the sweet scent of a cunt warming for his touch, fueled the feral desires raging through him. They demanded ever more, and he ground back into her soft curves until they molded against his body, caressing him from chest to knee as they began to sway just as they had on the dance floor—back and forth in a rhythm as old as time.
Kristen whimpered, her body moving with his and proving that beneath all that prim prissiness was a hot, little vixen waiting for a man to awaken her to the erotic world of ecstasy. Dylan wanted to be that man.
Flexing against her and silently cursing the clothes in his way, Dylan dug his hand into the heavy cotton of her skirt and began dragging it up until his fingers brushed against the soft, velvety silk of her skin. Kristen broke free of his kiss at that first electric brush and began gasping for air as Dylan rained suckling little kisses down the graceful arch of her neck.
He felt the hard points of her nipples pressing through her dress. They ground against him, leaving him desperate for a taste as hungry, little moans fell from her lips, cheering him onward as he gripped her thigh and jerked it high up along his hips. Her knee bent, her leg wrapping around him as her skirt fell back, allowing him full access to the pussy weeping for his touch.
Dylan brushed the backs of his fingers against the wet crotch of her panties, nearly losing it at the feel of her cunt so soft and ready for him. Impatient now, he thrust his fingers beneath the elastic edge of her panties and split the plump, swollen folds of her pussy wide open. Kristen squealed and jerked hard at his invasion, but Dylan wasn’t about to be bucked off like Brandon had.
He held firm, keeping her pinned beneath the wall and whimpering with a need he planned on conquering. Kristen was his. Dylan didn’t fight the truth of that thought as it hammered through him. Instead, he trapped her clit beneath his thumb and began twirling the little bud, even as he nuzzled aside the collar of her dress to lap at the nipple still trapped beneath a thick cotton bra.
“Oh God,” Kristen moaned as she began to gulp for breath, her entire body tensing beneath him, and Dylan knew she was coming close to a release.
He was almost certain it would be her first. He wanted to give it to her, to feel her come apart in his arms if not all around his dick. That he could not do. Despite the inferno consuming him, the need he had to protect Kristen overrode everything. She deserved better than having her first time up against the back of a bar.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t take a taste.