Page 18 of Egg Me On (Front Range Motorcycle Collective #1)

Cash

The lights were on, warm yellow squares against the darkening sky.

I sat astride my bike for a moment, wrestling with the unfamiliar tightness in my chest. He'd driven to work without me.

Left early, deliberately avoiding me. The thought burned like acid, feeding the possessive hunger that had been growing since that first night in the tent.

I stalked up the walkway, each step fueled by a desperation I'd never felt before, and knocked on the door.

Footsteps approached. Not Aiden's—too light, too measured. The door swung open to reveal a younger woman with Aiden's eyes and none of his warmth. His sister. Mira.

She crossed her arms, blocking the doorway with her slight frame. "Can I help you?" She knew exactly who I was, but was pretending not to.

"Aiden here?" My voice emerged rougher than intended.

"He's been weird since he got back from that camping trip," she said, eyeing me like I was something dangerous she'd found on her shoe. "Something to do with you, I assume? Were you an asshole?"

I met her glare with one of my own. "I need to talk to him."

She snorted. "Talk? That's a first."

The barb struck home with painful accuracy. I clenched my jaw, refusing to flinch. Her eyes swept over me—taking in the leather jacket, the boots, the tension radiating from every line of my body.

"He's in his room," she finally said, stepping aside reluctantly. "Down the hall, last door on the left." As I brushed past her, she added, "Hurt him again and I'll key your precious motorcycle."

I didn't respond, already moving down the hallway, drawn toward him like metal to a magnet. The last door stood slightly ajar, a thin slice of light spilling into the dim corridor. I didn't knock. Couldn't wait that extra second. Just pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Aiden lay sprawled across his bed, phone held above his face, legs stretched out in sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His t-shirt had ridden up, exposing a strip of skin I'd tasted just days ago. His head snapped toward me, eyes widening with shock.

"Cash? What the fuck—"

I froze, eyes locked on his phone screen. My social media profile. My latest post was on the screen, the motorcycle silhouetted against the mountain sunset from our weekend. He'd been looking at my page.

Something primal and possessive surged through me, hot and urgent and completely beyond control. In three strides, I was at his bed, one knee on the mattress as I loomed over him.

He sat up, phone clutched in his hand, defiance flashing across his face. "You wouldn't even look at me yesterday. Barely said two words in the hallway. You can’t just show up and—"

I swallowed the rest of his sentence with my mouth, crashing into him with a hunger that bordered on violence. He stiffened beneath me for one heart-stopping moment, then his hands were fisting in my jacket, pulling me down on top of him with equal force.

The kiss was all teeth and desperation, nothing like the careful exploration of our first night together.

This was claiming, marking, punishing. I bit his lower lip hard enough to make him gasp, then soothed the sting with my tongue.

His phone clattered to the floor as his hands slid beneath my jacket, fingers digging into my shoulders through my shirt.

"Goddamn you," he breathed against my mouth, voice cracking with emotion. "You fucking asshole. Why do you have to be so hot and cold? Why can’t you just fucking talk to me and tell me what you need?"

Because I couldn’t fucking talk to him, because it was getting harder and harder the more he mattered, I responded by shoving my hand under his shirt, palm sliding over the warm skin of his stomach, feeling the muscles jump beneath my touch.

His head fell back, exposing the line of his throat, and I attacked it with teeth and tongue, sucking hard enough to leave marks.

Mine. The word pounded through my veins as I tore at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against mine. He was just as frantic, shoving my jacket off my shoulders, yanking at my shirt until I had to break away to pull it over my head.

The moment of separation was too much. I dove back into him, reclaiming his mouth as my hands worked his sweatpants down his hips. He was already hard, cock straining against his boxers. I palmed him roughly, swallowing his moan as our tongues battled.

"Fuck, Cash," he panted, pushing at my chest until I allowed him to sit up. "Wait—um can I have you bare? Do you get tested? For STDs and stuff?"

The question cut through the red haze of want. I sat back on my heels, chest heaving, fighting for the words to tell him he could have what he wanted. I nodded, hoping he knew what I meant.

"Same." His eyes were dark with hunger, lips swollen from my kisses. "No condom then. Want to taste you."

Before I could process his words, he was shoving me onto my back, hands making quick work of my belt and jeans. Cool air hit my cock as he freed it, then disappeared in the wet heat of his mouth closing around me.

I buried my hands in his hair and groaned, hips jerking up involuntarily, because holy fuck, his mouth was warm and wet and so damn delicious.

His hands pinned my hips to the mattress as he took me deeper, tongue swirling around the head before sliding down the shaft. The sight of him with his eyes closed in concentration, cheeks hollowed, those perfect lips stretched around my cock, nearly undid me right there.

His technique was flawless, a devastating combination of suction and friction that had me seeing stars and wondering who’d taught him to suck cock like this.

I wanted to find them and thank them and make sure they knew they couldn’t have him anymore.

When he pulled off to lick a broad stripe from base to tip, I couldn't stop the desperate sound that escaped me.

"Like that?" he asked, voice wrecked and beautiful. His hand replaced his mouth, stroking me with just the right pressure.

"Fuck yes," I managed, unable to tear my eyes away from him.

“I know what you like, don’t I?” He grinned, and it was that same smug grin that had driven me crazy from day one, all brash confidence and cuteness.

Then he took me in his mouth again, deeper this time.

The head of my cock hit the back of his throat, and he swallowed around me, the muscles contracting in a way that tore another groan from my chest.

No one had ever sucked me like this—like they were savoring a favorite treat, like they couldn't get enough. His enthusiasm was as arousing as his skill, the little hums of pleasure vibrating around my cock telling me he was enjoying this almost as much as I was.

I was getting dangerously close to the edge when he pulled off with an obscene pop. His lips were red and slick, eyes glazed with lust as he crawled up my body.

"Want you inside me," he whispered, hot breath against my ear. "Need you to fill me up."

He reached for his bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube while I kicked my jeans the rest of the way off. When he straddled my thighs, pouring lube onto his fingers, I realized what he intended.

"Let me," I said, reaching for him.

He shook his head, pupils blown wide with desire. "Watch me."

Fuck. He reached behind himself, his lip caught between his teeth as he worked his fingers inside.

His cock stood rigid against his stomach, leaking at the tip.

I ran my hands up his thighs, feeling the muscles tremble as he opened himself up.

I skimmed the pad of my thumb over his cock, watching it jump in response, watching his eyelids droop as he moaned softly.

“You know how to touch me, too,” he said.

When he finally deemed himself ready, he slicked my cock with lube, positioned himself above me, and began to sink down.

The tight heat of him enveloped me inch by agonizing inch, and the view was the sexiest I’d ever seen, his body graceful and slender as he forced my dick into his tight hole until he was fully seated, ass flush against my hips.

I hissed, hands gripping his waist. He looked so beautiful straddling me, impaled on me, his cock dripping pre-cum onto my stomach.

His head fell back, throat working as he adjusted to the stretch. Then, with a slow roll of his hips that made me see stars, he began to move.

The sight of him riding me, his body flushed with arousal, cock bouncing against his stomach, face slack with pleasure, was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. I wrapped one hand around his shaft, stroking in time with his movements, determined to make him fall apart.

He increased his pace, hips working in a rhythm that had us both gasping. My other hand gripped his thigh, feeling the muscles strain as he lifted and dropped himself on my cock. The wet sounds of our bodies joining filled the room, punctuated by his breathy moans and my deeper groans.

"Cash," he panted, rhythm faltering as he approached his peak. "I'm close. Fuck, your cock is so good."

I tightened my grip on his cock, thumb swiping over the sensitive head.

His entire body tensed, thighs trembling as his orgasm crashed through him. Hot pulses of cum coated my chest and stomach as he threw his head back, a broken cry tearing from his throat. His ass clenched around my cock in rhythmic waves that pushed me over the edge.

I came with his name on my lips, hips driving up into his tight heat as pleasure ripped through me. Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me, more intense than anything I'd experienced before. When the aftershocks finally subsided, Aiden collapsed onto my chest, uncaring of the mess between us.

Our lips found each other in a kiss that was surprisingly tender after the frantic coupling. I could taste myself on his tongue, the intimacy of it making something warm unfurl in my chest. His heart hammered against mine, our ragged breaths slowly synchronizing as we came down from the high.