Getting Off. Эбби ГринЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter Three

      My thoughts exactly...if I could articulate a word. Suddenly he was pulling me by the hand toward a motorbike parked nearby. My insides turned to mush. Any vague resistance I might have put up died a death. He drove a freaking motorbike?

      He let me go to reach for helmets and handed me one, an intent look on his face that was seriously sexy. I took my bag from him, too, which I had totally forgotten about and hung it diagonally across my body.

      Once our helmets were on, he swung his leg over the bike and a fresh spasm of lust made me feel weak.

      He held out an arm and I clasped it to steady myself as I swung my leg over the bike, too. His muscles bunched under my fingers. And then I was behind him, sliding down until his hard butt was right between my thighs, my throbbing clitoris practically singing for joy. The prospect of a first-time multiple orgasm was not that fantastical.

      He turned his head and said, ‘Hang on.’

      I needed no encouragement. I wound my arms around his torso, clasping my hands just over the waistband of his jeans. I felt his washboard abs contract as he turned the bike on and pushed down to make it roar. The friction against my jeans and between my legs was delicious torture.

      We were about to move off and then he stopped and turned his head again. I heard him huff out a small laugh. ‘Your address?’

      I called it out to him, relieved that he sounded as thrown as me by this. And then we were off, roaring down the quiet streets, block after block.

      We weren’t that far from my apartment, so we were parking again just minutes later. I don’t think I could have lasted for much longer on the bike without sexually molesting him. The bulge in his pants had been grazing my fingers provocatively.

      I got off first and pulled off the helmet, smoothing my hair. I felt nervous all of a sudden. But then he was getting off the bike and nerves dissolved as I devoured his tall lean form.

      Please don’t let him be some rat who’s cheating on his girlfriend, I prayed silently. But to my shame, I wasn’t prepared to jeopardize this night and ask him to confirm he was single. I just trusted that he was a moral guy. Yeah, who takes a stranger home from a bar to shag her brains out. With any luck! I answered my snarky conscience.

      He’d stashed the helmets again and was looking at me. It took me a second to act. I rooted around in my bag for the keys and went to the door, opening it.

      I led the way upstairs, very conscious of him looking at my bum. I did a quick mental inventory of personal hygiene. I’d showered that afternoon between job hunts. And I’d done a complete body-hair-removal overhaul before leaving Dublin, mindful of being prepared at all times.

      I now thanked God for my foresight. Even though, I worried my lower lip as my aunt’s brightly painted door loomed, I wasn’t an advocate of the completely shaven nether regions...so I hoped he wasn’t one of these men who fainted with shock to see that a woman actually grew pubic hair between her legs.

      I had been with a guy in college who had literally gone green at the sight. Needless to say, that relationship had fizzled pretty quickly.

      I opened the apartment door and the faint familiar smell of incense assailed my nostrils. I walked in and held the door back and waited, holding my breath.

      Liam’s eyes met mine as he passed me and the air seemed to crackle with electricity. He smiled, slow and sexy. With a definite hint of wickedness. I sucked in a breath once he was in and closed the door and followed him, turning on lamps.

      I realized then what he must be thinking as he looked around, and I said rather redundantly, ‘I did say my aunt was a bit eccentric.’

      His voice was dry. ‘No shit.’

      I had to smile at his tone. Each wall was painted a different colour. One wall sported a mural that looked suspiciously like a woman’s vulva, not that I even knew for certain what a vulva looked like even though I had one.

      There were crystals in every window, dream catchers swinging in the warm breeze. Beaded chiffon throws over chairs and the couch. A big fat Buddha statue sat in a corner surrounded by unlit candles. It was bohemian-hippie chic, to say the least.

      ‘This is one hell of an apartment.’

      My mouth was still quirking as I came to stand beside him. ‘My aunt is about seventy, even though she could pass for fifty. She’s on a yoga-and-meditation retreat in India right now. And her name is June, but she’s currently answering to the name Star. Last year it was Lakshmi, after the Indian goddess of abundance. She has a tattoo on her back of the phases of the moon.’

      I was babbling now. Liam turned toward me. My pulse zoomed skyward again. Mouth dry, I forced myself to try to remember social niceties. ‘Do you...would you like a drink?’

      He shook his head, ‘I don’t drink.’

      I frowned. ‘But you were drinking in the bar.’

      ‘Nonalcoholic beer.’

      ‘But...why bother going in the first place?’

      He shrugged minutely, and drawled, ‘Maybe I was hoping to run into you.’

      I rolled my eyes, even as my pulse was going haywire. ‘Smooth, very smooth.’

      He smiled. ‘I do try.’ And then, ‘I do have one question...’

      I had to stop myself saying, yes to anything, if he would just keep smiling like that, and said, ‘What?’

      He reached out and tugged me into him, and all my erogenous points zinged to life.

      ‘Do you have protection here? Because I wasn’t exactly...expecting this, and I’m so hot for you that I didn’t think to stop on the way.’

      I’m so hot for you.

      I think I actually fainted with shock for a few seconds, while staying standing. I couldn’t be entirely sure I wasn’t going to wake up any minute now, masturbating myself again...but I blinked, and he didn’t move. I wasn’t dreaming. I was sizzling.

      I liked the fact that he obviously wasn’t some lothario with a string of condoms in his pocket, while also feeling thankful that I’d bought a hopeful stash yesterday. And I was on the pill, but knowing most guys’ predilection for going without, given half a chance, I kept that to myself. Safety came first, even when auditioning for the starring role in Caitlin Does Liam.

      I nodded, my voice was rough with desire. ‘In the bathroom.’

      His eyes darkened and his hands tightened on my waist, fingers touching my bare skin underneath the hem of my T-shirt. ‘Good.’