Secrets & Lies (Roughshod Rollers MC 3)

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He reaches behind me and flicks open my bra clasp. I allow the bra to fall, my breasts bouncing free of their confines before I step closer to Grant once more and press them against him, both of us shuddering at the feeling of our naked, heated skin meeting.
I push against Grant and we both stumble back, weaving our way toward an open doorway. As we move, I flick open the button on Grant’s pants, and he fingers the elastic of my skirt. There’s still too much cloth between us; it needs to go.
We stumble through the door and I catch a glimpse of a tiny living room/kitchenette area, likely where the staff take breaks. There’s a large, comfortable looking lounge in the corner, and I push Grant in that direction.
“This skirt needs to come off,” Grant says into my ear, biting at the soft cartilage.
We careen to a stop and Grant pushes my skirt over my hips, hooking his fingers in my panties to drag them down too. I shiver as the cool air meets my bare skin and I grab the hem of Grant’s pants, shimmying them over his hips too. My skirt and panties fall to the ground and Grant steps back to push his own pants down, followed by his boxers. His penis, thick and weeping, springs free, and his eyes are dark with lust as he kicks the last of his clothes away. I can barely catch my breath; everything is happening so fast and my head is too busy spinning with desire to care about anything else.
I don’t know who moves first. We meet in the middle, kissing frantically. There’s nothing loving or gentle about the kiss, it’s primal and desperate and full of the misery and darkness that has followed us both since we broke up. It makes my blood sing even while my heart clenches. The love we once had has warped into this, and all we can do now is focus on the want for each other that we both have.
“Grant,” I gasp.
He knocks me backward and I fall onto the soft couch. He looms over me, swinging a leg over to straddle my legs, and I am pressed in place both by his sharp eyes and his heavy body.
“Talk later,” he promises. “Don’t run away again.”
I can’t promise that, so I don’t. I don’t know if he notices that I don’t reply, but it doesn’t affect the way his palms run over my sweaty skin.
I know I’m going to regret every bit of this in the morning. It’s stupid and ridiculous. I’ve run from Grant for three years, and I lose my mind the moment I see him again.
Right now, though, I’m just going to lose myself in the moment. Grant is here, above me, touching me in ways that I have missed so terribly that I almost want to cry at the unfairness of only getting this once more. I’ll take what I can get right now.
I can deal with the consequences of that later.
Chapter Three
If anyone had told me that, after tonight’s shift, I would find myself in the breakroom, about to fuck my ex-girlfriend on the couch, I would have laughed and asked how drunk they were. Yet, here I am, straddling Jessica on the couch, her short, blonde hair splayed around her head like a damn halo, both feeling like an idiot and like I’ll fall apart if I stop touching her.
I should have pushed her away the moment she kissed me. But I didn’t. Instead, my heart thundering in my chest, seized by the memory of just how much I’ve missed the woman in my arms, I kissed her back.
Now, here we are. Our clothes are strewn across the room and the bar. I never locked the door, so anyone could walk in at any moment. For all I know, Jessica has another partner and she’s forsaking them to be here with me. I don’t know what her life is like anymore. There’s a huge part of me that doesn’t want to know.
But none of that matters. The only thing I care about is her being here right now. It’s like stepping back in time, as though the three miserable years during which she was gone no longer exist. Her skin feels the same as I remember, the taste of her kisses are the same too. She’s even still using that floral perfume that I loved so much. Nothing has changed.
Yet, everything has.
“Are you going to sit there all night or are you going to touch me?” Jessica asks, wriggling beneath me.
Part of me wants to laugh. She’s always been quiet and a little anxious, but she started to become more demanding and louder in the bedroom when we were together three years ago. The rest of me just tries to deal with the lust that shoots through me at her aggressive tone.
“Depends on how you want me to touch you,” I say in a low voice. “Do you want me to touch you…here?”
I curve my fingers around her hips, pressing against the prints I’ve already left, and she inhales sharply.
“Or here?”
I raise my hands, lightly brushing her skin with my fingertips, to her breasts, pinching the nipple and cupping the soft skin. Jessica writhes underneath me, choking on a gasp.
“Or… here?”
I lower one of my hands until it drifts between her legs. I play with the skin on her thigh for a moment as her limbs tremble, and then I touch her entrance, swiping my fingers through the slick that has gathered there.
“You’re so wet for me,” I say, pressing harder, and she whines, her hips jerking down as though trying to swallow my fingers into her body. “It’s going to make it easy for me to fuck you hard.”
“Oh, please, fuck me as hard as you can,” she groans out.