“When did you have that done?” he asked.
She lifted her head, glanced down at the piercing. “When I turned eighteen.”
“I like it.”
Her lips curved, a devilish little smile. “I like your hands on me.”
He slid his palm under her shirt. Her skin was buttery soft, like the finest worn leather. He smoothed his hand over her, higher, up to her ribs, letting his fingers rest just below her breasts. He could feel her rapidly thrumming heartbeat, watch her face as she licked her lips, kept her gaze focused on him.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Diaz.”
Her honesty was going to tear him apart. If only he could be as honest with her. But there were too many doubts, too many things he couldn’t say.
He shouldn’t go any further. If he did, he wasn’t sure he could stop. Just smoothing his hand over her skin was torture. His balls felt knotted up, his dick twisted and on fire.
But the decision was out of his hands when Jessie lifted her shirt over her breasts, revealing two perfect globes with round peach nipples that puckered right before his eyes, just begging for him. He groaned, inched forward, and covered one with his hand, the other with his lips. So much for leaving her fully dressed.
She tasted just as good as she looked—sweet and warm. She arched her back, sliding her nipple farther into his mouth, shoving the other breast into his palm. He toed off his boots and climbed onto the bed so he could lean over her, feast on her, lick and suck and tweak her nipples until she writhed against him. The more he lavished attention on her breasts, the more she arched into him, twining her fingers through his hair and holding on tight as if she’d never let go.
Don’t let go. He liked her holding on to him, seeming to need what only he could give her. It was as if she was desperate for his touch, and he loved that, because he had so much more to give her than just this.
He tilted her up, long enough to lift the shirt over her head, then laid her head down on the bed again. Naked from the waist up . . . damn, she was so beautiful, her short hair framing her heart-shaped face, her eyes so wide open and beautiful as she studied his every move. He cupped her cheek, bent down to taste her lips again, slid his tongue between her teeth to lick at the velvety softness of hers—could he ever get enough of her sweet mouth?
As he explored her mouth, he reached for her belt buckle, undoing it and finding the button on her jeans, then drawing the zipper down. When he reached inside and laid his hand against her satin panties, she sighed softly against his lips. He pulled his mouth from hers, gazing down at her. Her panties were white, low cut, but he wanted to see more of them. He drew away from her, grabbed the denim, and pulled the jeans down her legs, drawing them off.
Jessie had the most beautiful legs, tanned, toned from her hard workouts in the gym. He worked his way back up by sliding his hands over the soft skin of her ankles, her calves, her thighs, moving to the edge of the bed to spread her legs apart, to inspect the tiny scrap of her panties, the only item of clothing she still wore.
“This isn’t quite fair,” she said, sounding a bit breathless.
“What isn’t?”
“You still have all your clothes on.”
Damn good thing, too, or he’d already be inside her. That little scrap of satin was no barrier to him. If he was naked, he’d rip it off and plunge his cock deep inside her in seconds. He was hard, aching, pulsing with a need to fuck her. Yeah, good thing he still had all his clothes on.
“I want to see you, touch you, Jessie.”
“I want to see you, too.”
“Later.” Never. Too much at stake. This was enough . . . had to be enough. He held on to her knees, spread her legs apart, and came down between them, sitting on the bed so he could be close to her. He inhaled the musky sweet scent of her arousal. The smell of sex, the best aphrodisiac ever. It intoxicated his senses, made his balls knot up tight against his body, his cock quiver in anticipation.
It could anticipate all it wanted. All he was going to do with Jessie was play a little.
Or a lot. He laid his palm over the satin at the apex of her thighs. Steamy wet heat greeted him. She raised her hips, pressing her sweet pussy against his hand.
“Diaz.”
The way she whispered his name—part praise, part plea—a man could only take so much torture.
“I’m going to make you come, Jessie.”
Her lips parted and she let out a slight gasp of surprise, her eyes widening again in that way that spoke of innocence. He frowned, then dismissed it. Maybe it was pleasurable surprise, instead.
He pressed his palm against her mound, rubbed up, then down, enjoying the moist feel of her, the way she bucked up to meet his hand, tilted her head back, and let out a low moan. She gripped the bedspread, digging her heels into the mattress.
He needed more than this. This satin barrier annoyed him.
“Hang on, baby.” He grasped the tiny straps at her hips and with a slight tug, the material gave way. Jessie’s head shot up as he pulled the fabric from her body.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
And then she was bare.
And she was bare. Completely. Diaz swallowed, caught sight of the small silver ring piercing on the hood of her clit, and nearly dropped to his knees and cried.
“Jesus, Jessie. When did you have this one done?”
“On my twenty-first birthday.”
He’d like to kill the son of a bitch who got to touch her there.
“It was a woman,” she said in response to his frown. “A friend of mine who does tattoos and piercings.”
Good thing. Not that he expected her to be a virgin or anything, but the thought of anyone being down here before him made him decidedly . . . damned irritated.
Which he had no right to be. She was twenty-three, not a kid.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
She cast him an arched brow and a half smile. “It’s . . . fun to play with.”
He could well imagine. “Let’s just see how much fun it is.” She was wet, glistening with her own juices. He dipped his fingers along her pussy lips, then trailed them upward, slow and easy, getting her used to his touch. She trembled, tensed, then nearly rocketed right off the bed when he used the pad of his thumb to circle the hood of her clit. He had to press one hand down on her lower belly to hold her in place.
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he murmured, coming up beside her to hold her steady. Good God she was sensitive.
“I’m not . . . that is I haven’t . . . Shit.”
Warning bells and chimes of uh oh sounded in his head. He pulled his hand away and sat up. “You haven’t what?”
“Nothing. I haven’t come in a while, that’s all.” She grabbed his wrist and moved it back to her sex. “Please, don’t stop.”
Diaz was no idiot. That’s not what she meant. He pushed back, grabbing a pillow to shove against the headboard, and dragged Jessie with him. “Let’s take a short break.”
She gave him an incredulous stare. “Are you kidding me? You’re stopping now?”
“Hell yes, we’re stopping now. Tell me what you haven’t, Jessie. What haven’t you done?”
Her cheeks flamed pink. She looked down, then back up again through the fringes of her eyelashes, not quite meeting his probing gaze.
He didn’t want to know the answer, did he?
But he had to know. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. He needed her to say it.
“Jess, tell me.”
“I’ve never done this before.”
He stilled, every muscle in his body tight. “You’ve never done what?”
“Um . . . anything.”
Son of a bitch. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Instinctively, he’d already known. Something in her eyes had told him. That innocence he’d kept seeing wasn’t an act. It was real.
He slid off the bed, dragged his hand through his hair, and paced the room.
“Goddammit, Jessie. How the hell could you be twenty-three years old and a virgin?”
She rolled her eyes. “Diaz, I’ve been with the Wild Riders since I was fifteen years old. From the time I got there Grange guarded me like a mother hen, never let me out of his sight. And if it wasn’t him, it was one of you guys watching over me. I was homeschooled, and when I wasn’t doing that I was trained. That took up all my time. It wasn’t like I had a normal life. When would I have dated, when or where would I have met a guy? It wasn’t like I’d go out to the mall and bring one home with me. And if I had, you all would have been all over him. No way would he have stood a chance.”
She had a point. They would have never let a guy near Jessie back then. Diaz wasn’t sure they’d let one near her now. No wonder she never brought guys around them.
“When you became of legal age and started riding and going out on your own?” All those times Jessie disappeared, out riding, by herself? He thought a taste of freedom would have given her the opportunity to meet a guy or two . . . gain some experience. Hell, they all thought that.
She shrugged. “I was . . . picky. By then I compared every man I met to you-to you guys.” Her eyes swept down, then back up again. “No one measured up. It’s not like I was going to jump the bones of the first available guy just because he had a dick. Hence my dilemma—twenty-three and still a virgin.”
He still couldn’t fathom this. Not the way she looked, the way she acted . . . so bold, direct, as if she knew exactly what she wanted. “What about those piercings?”
Her lips curled. “What about them? They’re body art, they don’t signify sexual experience.”
“The clit ring?”
She rolled her eyes. “I masturbate, Diaz. I might be a virgin, technically, but it doesn’t mean I lack experience. Masturbation is my only sexual outlet right now. And the clit ring heightens my sexual pleasure. Since no one is doing it for me, I do it for myself.”
He shouldn’t be having this conversation with her. He shouldn’t be in this room with her. There were a lot of shouldn’ts going on in his head, his body. His hard-on returned in an angry rush. The mental visual of Jessie, naked and spread-eagled on her bed, toying with that tiny little piercing on her clit, bringing herself to orgasm . . .
Despite what he knew, he still wanted to throw her down on the bed and eat her pussy until she screamed. Which was so the wrong thing to be thinking about. Now. Ever.
“I can’t believe this.” He walked the carpet from end to end, frustration eating away at him. How could they have not seen this? Well, hell. It’s not like any of them ever discussed Jessie’s sex life with her. She’d never had other females around. Not until Lily arrived on the scene, and that was just recently. Did Lily even know? Even if she did, it wasn’t like she’d call a meeting with all the guys to discuss it.
Jessie crossed her arms under her breasts, seemingly unaware or at least unconcerned of her complete nudity. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t unburden myself of my virginity sooner. How inconvenient for you tonight.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” Or maybe it was. Dammit, it was inconvenient. He’d thought she was experienced.
Would that have eased his guilt over what they were going to do? Probably.
He turned to the window, easing back the curtain an inch to peer out, to turn his gaze toward anything but her luscious body. “If I’d known . . . I would have never touched you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t know, then.”
He flipped back to gape at her. “You want this to happen?”
“I wouldn’t be sitting here naked with you if I didn’t.”
He frowned. “I thought you were picky.”
“I am.”
“But you’re here with me.”