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Authors: Jennifer Ryder

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BOOK: Strike
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“Very fuckin’ funny.” I smirk, and pinch her nipple through her bra.

April slaps my hand away. “Yeah, I’m a riot. I should be a comedian.”

“You know what you should take a photo of? My dick. You’d capture the epitome of tortured.”

April laughs loudly, and links her hands behind my neck. I lean my forehead against hers and close my eyes, silently begging my dick to give it a rest.
You’re not getting any tonight, mate.

“You can kiss me if it’ll make you feel better,” she provokes.

“The way you’re looking at me, I don’t know if I should. If I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until I’m buried deep inside you.”

Her expression turns serious, and she sighs. Did I go too far by saying that? I couldn’t help myself. I want in that sweet pussy, but that’s not all I want.

I kiss her softly on her sweet lips. “Trust me, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. To the point where I’m obsessing over it.”

She smirks, and playful April is back. “Just kiss me, Spencer. If you haven’t come by now, I’d say you’ll be right. No man ever died from blue balls.”

“Knowing my luck I’d be the first.” I run my fingers through her soft hair and rest my hand on her shoulder. “You wanna know something?”

“What?” she whispers.

“There’s definitely nothing pedestrian about you.”

Again she gifts me that smile, the one I’m becoming addicted to. “I’m glad someone is finally starting to see that about me.”

“This, the way you are right now, all sated and jelly-like—I’ve never experienced anything like it. Focusing on someone else experiencing pleasure, and watching how your body reacted, building up to it and then falling apart …
fuck
. I’ll never forget it. I’ll fucking dream about this. Day and night.”

“Next time I’ll let you take me there. All you. Think you can handle it?” She smirks.

“Baby, I’ll have you screaming my name so loud your neighbours will call the cops.”

She shrugs. “If they bring cuffs, I don’t mind.”

Un-fucking-believable. Is she into kinky shit too? These surprises just keep on coming. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Nah. I’m not into necrophilia.” She sighs sweetly.

Funny girl
.

I take her into my arms, squeezing her almost naked body against me.
Against my clothes
. I can’t believe I’m still dressed.

I let out a long breath and look to the clock on the wall. It’s late. Fuck, I wish I could stay.

“Seriously, April. You know what I want more than anything? I want your hair spread over my pillow, and not a scrap of anything on you obstructing my view of this incredible body. I wanna do all manner of naughty things to you, but I won’t lie—I want in this sweet pussy so bad … and when I’m in, fuck. Then I can die. At least I’ll die with a giant motherfucking smile on my face.”

“I’m worth the wait, Spencer. Trust me,” she says, her eyes all glazed over. She’s never looked more beautiful. Imagine how incredible it’ll be when
I
get to take her there, when
I
get to be the one to put that satisfied look in her eyes, and have her sweet body singing like a symphony.

“I don’t doubt it. How could I not trust a beautiful face like this?”

April looks at the clock, and lets out a weary sigh. “Are you sure you can’t stay?”

I nod. “Sorry.”

“We could cuddle? I just don’t want you to go yet. Stay a bit longer, and then you can call a taxi.”

“Okay. Think I can manage that.”

April closes her eyes, her lashes brushing her flushed cheeks. She snuggles in close to my chest, her warmth seeping into my soul. This girl is really getting to me.

“You wanna know a secret?” she mumbles, relaxing in my arms.

“Absolutely.”

“I’ve already had sex with you in my head,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“And how was I?” I whisper.

Silence.

“That good, huh?” I move to meet her eyes, but they’re closed. She isn’t, is she? The softest little purring noise comes from her throat. Damn it. She’s fallen asleep. I thought only guys rolled over and went to sleep after they came. I so wasn’t expecting this. Ha.

I pull the blanket up over us and appreciate the simple, comforting act of holding April. Like somehow all that bed-hopping led me here. Like this is where I should be. For the first time in a long time I need someone; not just need to be inside her, but to
really
be with her. And it’s scary as hell.

I should go. She knows I have to leave anyway. It’s not like I’ve just slept with her and I’m trying to do the mad dash outta here. I prop myself up on my elbow and kiss those perfect lips goodbye.

“Night, April,” I whisper.

She hooks her arm around my waist and pulls me against her stomach, her fingers exploring beneath the back of my shirt. It sends a tidal wave of goosebumps over my skin.
Fuck
. The soft groaning thing she’s doing vibrates against my lips as she searches me out, and I can’t deny her another kiss.

Her soft lips rub against mine as she explores my mouth, and she rumbles low in her throat as she hooks her leg over my hip and rubs up against me. Against my ever-ready, hard dick. At least, it seems to be in this state whenever I’m near her.

Christ. She can’t be serious. I go to leave and
now
she wants it?

I run my hand down her leg, cupping her perfectly toned arse, and position her so she can feel me, and so I can feel her heat. My fingers glide over the soft skin of her ribcage as I probe my tongue harder into her mouth.

April’s whole body stills. Her eyes fly open, and she pulls her mouth away.

“What’s happening?” she says, rapidly blinking. When she focuses on my face, I smile at her, with the realisation that she has no idea what she was just doing.
I wonder how far it would have gotten …

“I went to kiss you goodbye, and—”

She shields her eyes with her forearm. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

I pull her arm away so I can stare into her beautiful eyes. I can’t help but grin. “Don’t apologise. I know
exactly
what you were thinking, and it’s all good. You want me. Who could resist?”

“Apparently comatose women can’t even resist you.”

I waggle my eyebrows up and down. “And they’re the ones I want the most.” I let out a loud sigh. “As much as it pains me, I’ll have to take a raincheck on the sleepover. God knows what I’d wake up to. And if I can’t have you yet, it’d just be adding to the torture.”

She runs her fingers over my jaw, sending another flow of blood down south.

“Thanks for tonight. It was without a doubt the best dinner date ever. You blew all my expectations out of the water,” I say.
You didn’t blow me, but damn it if it still wasn’t fucking amazing.
I brush her hair from her forehead, and run my finger along her jawline.

“It was the paella that did it, huh?” Her face softens and she pulls me into a hug. She leans back a little and gazes into my eyes. “I had a good time tonight,” she whispers.

“Me too. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” I reluctantly get up and cover her with the blanket.

“Okay. I’m going back to my sweet dream,” she teases.

“Yeah, well I’m going home to jerk off. This level of anticipation is
not
sustainable. I wish I could stay, but if I did I don’t think we’d last the night.”

She smiles brightly and my chest tightens. “It’s alright; I’m working tomorrow anyway. I’m just glad you stayed a bit longer.”

“Anytime you wanna molest me, I’ll make myself available.”

“Good to know.”

I kiss her goodbye once more and call a taxi as I walk out of her apartment building.

The moment the fresh night air grabs a hold of me is a rude awakening. My internal organs sink inside me in protest.

I should have told her about riding.

I’d enjoyed just talking after dinner, but having her so close was too much of a distraction, and in turn I’d focused on what my dick craved instead of what I wanted just as much, deep down … somewhere. For once I’d wanted to open up and let someone in.

Fuck. My head’s all over the place. I wanna sleep with her, and I want more than that, but the second I leave I feel like shit for not staying … for not telling her more about me. The truth.

Riding. Practice tomorrow. That’s the shit I need to think about right now. Yeah.

No, wait. Get home. Jerk off.

Then think about riding.

 

CHAPTER FIVE

* APRIL *

An hour after he left, and my brain is still going over what happened tonight. I’m convinced I’m as mad as that bloke in
Alice in Wonderland
. The one with the freaky hats. I must have channelled some kind of freaky sex goddess, because I’d never been daring enough to think about doing something like that, let alone to orchestrate it.

Was trying it this way, changing tack, even going to work?

Before we went to my bedroom, the way his hands felt on me when he massaged my feet and ran them up my legs had turned my insides to mush. They weren’t the hands of a man trapped in an office all day, shuffling papers. The little callouses on his palms told me there was more about Spencer. I hope in time he’ll share more of himself than he has so far. It’s heartening to know he is so interested in me, but getting to know someone is a two-way street.

I keep coming back to the strange, tortured look on Spencer’s face when he left. Did he want to stay, or was he grateful for an out? Did I go too far? I’d wanted him to stay. What could have been so important that he couldn’t sleep the night? It was only work.

I’d enjoyed myself tonight.
Hottest date ever
. I could have ripped those clothes off him, so,
so
easily but I’m glad I held firm. After Todd, I’d always jump into bed too soon, determined to make sure the guy wanted sex as much as me before it got too far, but somehow I’d always ended up getting used, and they’d move on … with a small piece of my heart in tow. History had proven that I’d always pick the wrong men, and when they left or never rang again I’d always think I was the problem. I’d get upset and withdraw into myself until I was ready to start again. It was tiring.

I had to break the chain.

I am not my mother.

I want someone to
really
get to know me, and Spencer is well on the way. Has he made all this effort because I’ve taken the reins and held back on the sex? Is that the key? Is that what he likes about me? The thrill of the chase? I wonder if once I sleep with him, he’ll hang around. I bet he never has to beg for it. The reality is, that even though it’s early days, I care about Spencer more than I should. My head has never been in charge; my heart leads the way.

I guess soon enough my heart will discover the truth about Spencer. I hope he’ll be the one to affirm that I’m more than one-night material. Because I know, in my heart, that I’m more than that.

****

* SPENCER *

Saturday

“My Peaches is coming to visit this weekend, so you boys had better keep it in your pants. I know I don’t have Stone to worry about, but Billy … Jones … you’d better keep in mind she’s my only daughter and I’m a big ol’ grizzly bear when it comes to her.”

As the team manager, what Mac says goes. No
if
s, no
but
s.

Whatever
.

“Sure, Mac,” I mutter.

What kind of a name is Peaches? I bet she’s Daddy’s little princess. I’m not interested anyway. I’ve got April to dream about, and I haven’t been able to get her and her sexy antics out of my head. Last night, after I jerked off in the shower, I’d barely slept. Even after I came, when I settled into bed my dick was hard again. I could have jerked off all night. Maybe I should have, because riding with a stiffy is fucking torture.

Mac comes over, and sits on the bench beside me. “You look like shit, Jones. Another late night, huh? You’d give the partying a rest, wouldn’t you?”

I knew he was insinuating I’d been fucking yet another girl. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t like that, but I’d just be ridiculed for it. I don’t need shit from Mac, or anyone else who’d laugh at my attempts to actually try and get to know a girl. I don’t need any added pressure. Be fucked if it’s any of their business, anyway.

“You know me, Mac,” I say.

“Well, regardless of whatever the fuck you got up to last night, put some effort in today. We’ll work on your seat bounce and scrubbing the jumps. You’ve got it in you, boy.”

No matter how late I get in, or how hungover I am, Mac always tells me I have it in me. One of these days, I might just believe him.

“Will do,” I promise. Today I’m gonna hook in. I’m not letting the championship get any further out of reach.

****

Sunday

After giving it everything I had, every fucking muscle in my body is aching like a bitch. I’d gotten an early night last night, spending it alone at home rather than out on the town drinking.

I’d pushed through the pain this morning. I’d clocked some good times, and I’m sure Billy boy was less than impressed with the roost he had to deal with this morning, but he managed to cope with it pretty well. If anything, he was pushing harder. It was kinda cool to see. I know that after this weekend I’ll be more prepared for the next round. I wonder if April has anything to do with my newfound enthusiasm.

After another long day on the track, I head back to camp. I park my bike next to the others and take off my helmet. Looking back at the track, the sun catches on a pair of aviator sunglasses, sending a spark of light in my direction. Jeans, a tight white tank and caramel hair piled high on her head, I see her … with a camera in her hand.

April?
It must be. But why the hell would she be here? She told me she was working this weekend, but the last place I’d expected to see her is here.

I watch her from a distance as she moves around, bending over the railing. I’d recognise those legs anywhere. They’ve featured one too many times in my dreams. Mostly bent over my couch, but after our dinner the other night, the favoured position is taking her on her kitchen bench. She positions herself as riders continue to burn around the track, taking shots, and checking the settings on her camera.

BOOK: Strike
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