Emily
I’M NOT AT all ashamed to admit that I drank in order to get through brunch with Link, Jayson, and Grandma. In my defense, drinking was necessary to dull the scalding effects of Link’s intensity as he spoke about “us” like it was a done deal. Like he had me bagged, tagged, my life, career, and individuality prepped and ready for the eternal dirt nap. Not this girl. I didn’t care how hot he was, I wasn’t about to go gaga, worshiping at the altar of his satiating cock and gratifying tongue.
I was a fucking queen, after all. At least that’s what Link called me.
Marveling at the way that single title, spoken from his lips, could make me both freeze and melt, I ordered a second drink. Grandma—saint that she was—didn’t let me drink alone.
“Make that two,” she said, sipping down the last of her first mimosa.
Jayson was driving, so he stopped at one. Someone had to be responsible, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be me. I was too twisted up inside to care about things like propriety or social decorum.
By the time the waitress dropped off the check, Grandma and I were both three mimosas deep and I was much too relaxed to argue with Link when he reached for the bill.
Let him have his moment, I’d remind him who wore the crown later.
I hugged Grandma goodbye, promised Jayson I’d see him tomorrow, and let Link lead me to his bike and strap my borrowed helmet firmly on my head. The touch of his hands against my chin sent little jolts of electricity dancing through me.
“You sober enough to stay on?” he asked, searching my face.
“As long as you can keep it between the lines.”
He chuckled. “Let’s head back to your place.”
His eyes spoke of all sorts of dirty plans for when we got there, making my girly parts tingle. I nodded.
“I should keep mimosas on hand. I like you all calm and agreeable like this.”
“No, you don’t.” It was only three mimosas. I wasn’t even buzzed, just… happy, content, and so very chill. Also, honest. “You like it when I’m feisty.” Okay, maybe I was a little buzzed.
His eyes flashed with hunger as he closed the distance between us. “You’re right. I do.”
His lips mashed against mine, and we kissed. Not some little chaste peck, either. It was the deep, passionate, breath-stealing make-out session usually reserved for the bedroom—or at least the confines of a house—but we did it right there in front of the restaurant. His hands drifted down to squeeze my ass, trapping me against his growing erection. I should have been embarrassed, but our grossly inappropriate display of public affection only rekindled the fire burning inside me.
Link released me with a smirk, the pad of his thumb brushing my bottom lip before he swung his leg over the bike, giving me a good view of worn jeans thinly covering a perfect backside. My body was burning. I needed an industrial grade fire hose to douse the flames, and—despite the erection that had just been burrowing into my belly—he seemed fine.
“You coming?” he asked, still wearing that cocky smirk as he watched me over his shoulder.
Chances were good that I’d been caught watching his ass settle on the seat. I was too horny to care, so I shrugged off his question and climbed on behind him. Pressed against the firm muscles of his back with my hands tight against his flat abs, I was in heaven. He revved the engine, vibrating the seat, and the combination of his body and the bike made me damp.
Yep, I loved riding with Link.
By the time we arrived home, my nipples were hard and my panties were soaked through. Link removed my helmet and had me wait in the foyer while he checked out my house. Once he was satisfied no one was lurking in the closets, waiting to jump out and slaughter us while we were in the throes of passion, he stood in the hallway and gestured me forward.
“Come here, Emily.”
Something about his tone made me want to defy him. He wanted me to defy him, I was certain of it. Planting my feet and folding my arms, I asked, “Why, Link?”
Voice barely higher than a rumble, eyes dilated with lust, he said, “Don’t question me. Get your fine ass over here right now.”
My entire body shivered, and another wave of heat soaked my panties. “Why don’t you make me?”
Before the words were out of my mouth, he advanced. Squealing, I jumped back and fled. I made it a whole three steps before Link caught me, crushing my backside against his front. His erection poked against my lower back, promising a much-needed release for my aching cunt.
Brushing my hair to one side, he whispered against my neck, “You shouldn’t run, baby. It only makes me chase you. But you know that, don’t you?”
I nodded. “I’m a queen, remember? I do what I want.”
“That so?” He nipped at my neck. “You’re missing the big picture.”
