Hunte Read Online Free PDF Page A

she asked, her fingers walking up my chest.
    “Over there.” I waved behind me. “Somewhere.”
    “ Ohh! ” she moaned when my lips finally settled over hers.
    Just like before our kiss went from innocent touch to insane heat in zero seconds flat. Her tongue traipsed into my mouth, and mine curled around it. I gathered her to me, pushing my chest against her tits. Her soft noises spurring me on, I pulled her leg over the bike and up to my hip.
    Moving from her lips with a soft, wet suck, I licked her neck, nibbling with light bites from my teeth. Her hips curled up to my erection with every wet touch of my tongue.
    When my hands moved to toy with the zipper of her jacket, she stopped me. “Not here.”
    Well, no. I didn’t suppose getting her naked on top of her Ducati in the middle of a crowd was a smart idea.
    “Later. Maybe.” She brushed her palm over my cock. “Definitely later.”
    “Ride next to me?”
    Shaking out her hair, she looked me dead in the eye. “If you’ll let me ride you later.”
    “That can definitely be arranged.” My voice was thick and my jeans way too damn tight all of a sudden.
    We lined up at the starting point: Boomer, Brodie and Tucker/Friar Tuck at the start and the rest of us winged behind. Tucker, the gray-haired grandfather and all around-philosopher of Retribution reached back to knock me on the shoulder.
    “Don’t do any more dick moves with the new honey,” he said.
    “Excuse me. But the new honey is right here.” JB lifted the visor on her helmet.
    “Yeah, you are. What I really meant to say was keep Hunter in his place.”
    “Between my legs?” she replied without batting an eyelash.
    Tuck laughed uproariously. I went right back to pole-position hard in a nanosecond.
    A few weeks before Thanksgiving, we were getting a head start on the toy drive for the lowcountry’s less fortunate. Under the police escort—Detective Ashe Kingston was probably up there somewhere—we trekked for two hours through marshlands and town centers and downtown Charleston.
    Riding my machine was like riding the wind, no longer chased by the demons of my past. It felt even better with JB by my side.
    A good five hundred MC members rolled along Charleston’s roads before the run ended with lunch and music and live bands for dancing.
    My patience shredded after the first hour of partying.
    Too many people in one place made the back of my neck itch right along with my trigger finger. Too many men checking out JB as she grooved to the music called to the mercenary in me—the killer I’d been so close to the surface. I didn’t dance, but fuck if I’d hang on the sidelines with her drawing dudes to her like mouth-breathing moths to the flame.
    I held her in my arms, moving with her motions. Unhurried. All the time in the world to enjoy this new feeling except need and desire and must-have won out by miles over manners.
    “Come home with me,” I blurted. 
    “Subtle.” She rubbed her face against my chest.
    “I only do subtle when I work. Not when I’m fucking. I’m probably no good at romance either, but I take care of my people, and I can definitely take care of you in all the right ways, sweetheart.”
    She drew my mouth to hers.
    I stopped before our lips met, barely brushing hers. “Do you have to buddy-call Rayce?”
    “You want me to?”
    “I want you to know I’m gonna come at you hard and fast, but you’re safe with me.”
    “You always give the same PSA?” She leaned back in my arms.
    “No. You’re different.”
    “I don’t need to call Rayce. Take me home, Hunter.” She tucked her hair inside the back of her jacket and lifted her helmet. “I can’t wait for you to come at me hard and fast.”
    Good thing I’d done my homework and nosed around some of the other Redemption ladies to get a few of JB’s most pertinent details. Fresh-faced? Yes. Knowing? Hell yes. Of age? Thank fuck . She was twenty-five to my thirty-one. Jailbait still for a man of my experience