SEVENTEEN #2
Lisa ordered, but the girl still didn’t leave. “Will you be at the bar this weekend?”
“What do you think, Lisa?” he asked, looking only at her. “Do you wanna go for a drink this weekend?”
She was a goddess when she smiled, cottoning on to what he was doing.
“Hm. Maybe. It depends on whether you behave.”
Oh, fuck him. His dick pulsed harder in his jeans. If Lisa dropped a hand to his lap, she could make him behave real damn easily.
The server disappeared and Splice nudged Lisa with his leg. Reaching over to the prepared jug of water on the table, he poured her a glass.
“You just used me to get rid of her fawning.” She stated.
Shamelessly, he grinned. “Will you protect me?”
Her little scoff pushed heat into his chest because he wanted her to be jealous.
“Something tells me you can handle yourself just fine.”
Thankfully, their food arrived without a side of unwanted conversation from the server.
He cut through one of his biscuits and put it on Lisa’s plate of folded omelet and pork sausage.
Lisa used an empty side plate to share her fruit salad with him.
They ate happily for a while, talking about their day ahead.
“Do you have Sunday off? There’s somewhere I wanna take you.”
“I usually work most days, depending on how busy I am,” she replied.
Splice’s eyes were trapped in the snare of watching how Lisa was nibbling on a strawberry.
So seductive, he’d fallen to the depths of being turned on by eating fruit.
So lost in his filthy thoughts, he barely caught her saying.
“I’m working from home for the next week, subtitling a TV series. I can take a few hours off on Sunday.”
Good. He thought. He wanted to check off one of her bucket list items and deepen his involvement in her life.
On their way out of the restaurant once he’d paid, he guided Lisa again with his hand low on her back.
He’d ordered her a to-go cup of fresh sparkling lemonade, and she moaned, sucking on the straw outside.
“I love lemon things. They’re my one weakness,” she declared.
Her cuteness was gonna give him a cavity.
“When is it my turn to be your one weakness?” he asked, and she spluttered on her drink.
“Easy, don’t choke, sweetheart.” He touched her back longer than was necessary, just because his fingers were in heaven. He took the long way home to spend a few more minutes with her. If not for stuff needing his attention at the clubhouse, Splice would have talked his way into her house again.
Instead, he dropped her off, and the way Lisa looked at him, he knew she was thinking about a kiss and wondering if the time was now.
If he got his mouth on her, no one would get to work; that was a damn fact.
He wanted her mouth. Ached to take it, to feel how soft it was, to check if his memories of her taste still drove him wild.
Grunting low in his throat, he told Lisa he’d talk to her later, and he climbed back into the truck to head to the club.
* * *
An unexpected brawl broke out at Hellfire that night.
Splice was only passing through, but he hung around when a pack of frat boys was causing a ruckus on one of the back tables.
Because they were spending big, he let the manager deal with them.
Having warned one guy twice when he was being too rowdy, spilling glasses and hitting the asses of the servers, Splice heard shouting, then a slap.
He turned around in time to see that same frat motherfucker wind his arm back and crash his palm across the face of a young girl.
Splice vaulted over the bar in seconds, glancing at the girl on the floor, before he grabbed the college-age guy by the scruff of the neck.
“He tried to feel her up, dirty fucking pig.” One of her friends yelled.
“She’s lying.” The pervert struggled under Splice’s hold, and then he made a colossal mistake by grabbing a beer bottle; he swung it at Splice, who got his free arm up just in time, or the bottle would have broken on his face.
Some of the minion friends tried to rush forward; Zen and two of the door staff held them back while Splice punched the frat boy in the throat, bringing him to the floor, holding him down with a knee on his chest. He whistled for Zen, who looked over.
“Take the girl and her friends away. Don’t let anyone leave until the cops get here.”
It took a while for the law to turn up.
“Boss, you’re bleeding.” One of his female servers told him, frowning, as she looked at his hand. Splice had felt no pain, but sure enough, the side of his hand was cut open.
He should have booted the asshole in the dick. He couldn’t stand guys who preyed on women.
In the back office, he cleaned up the gash and applied a waterproof bandage. When he looked at his silver wristwatch, he grunted, anger simmering through his bloodstream. He’d missed his ten p.m. call with Lisa and hadn’t let her know.
That just pissed him off, and he wanted to throat punch that D-bag all over again.
“I’m taking off,” he told Zen. “Cooperate with the cops, and comp the girl’s taxis home, got it?”
“Sure. Glad you were here; don’t think I could have taken him on,” Zen half-laughed.
“Keep a bat behind the bar. Be prepared for anything to happen.” Splice warned and stalked off through the bar. His bloodstream hadn’t settled down at all when he pulled into Lisa’s driveway.
He dealt with so much bullshit like that, big and small, that he shouldn’t feel as wired as he was feeling. But he was really bothered that dealing with it made him late for Lisa, so he got off his bike and left his helmet hanging on the handlebars.
He connected the call, and Lisa’s sweet voice calmed his temper.
“It’s me,” he grunted. “Were you asleep?”
“No, not yet.”
“I’m outside; open the door.”
“You’re here?”
“Open the door, Lisa.” He issued again, his tone felt like gravel in his throat as he approached the door and watched the hallway light flip on.
The door opened, and he stepped into her house, backing her up in surprise until she was pressed against the wall. His towering frame was almost bristling with need, every nerve ending tingling at how gorgeous this woman was and at how her very existence affected him on a molecular, basic level.
“Ryan...” she said shakily, her hands pressing into his chest, not holding him back, just there, touching him.
How did he go from the violence just an hour ago to now, when his body was alive to hold her and taste her after so long? He’d only had one thought: to lay his eyes on Lisa, to feel the tremble of desire shake away his black mood.
She was dressed in something simple: bedtime shorts and a t-shirt, but to Splice, she was the hottest little thing on this earth, with no exceptions, and the groan boiled right from his gut as he continued to crowd her.
His breathing felt choppy as he dropped his head and wound a hand around her curvy waist.
“I couldn’t wait any longer,” he rasped, and that’s when he made a lifelong wish come true by connecting his lips to Lisa’s once again.
A decade in the making, and he groaned instantly under the softness and feeling how she gasped, but it only gave Splice the opening he’d craved as he tipped his head to the side to gain better access to the sweetest pair of lips.
There was no pushback from Lisa.
He felt her hands fold into the front of his open jacket, gripping his shirt, and though he had his head dipped as low as he could go, she still needed to rise on her toes.
Their bodies brushed together, and they moaned in sync.
Splice was catapulted back ten years, evoking everything he’d felt then with the first kiss. Nothing about her mouth had changed, except she’d become sweeter, tempting him into sin as he moved his mouth, kissing her with a kind of controlled desperation he’d never felt before.
Trying to hold himself in check was about the hardest shit on earth, but he didn’t grind into her belly as he wanted to.
Splice just let his hand curve around the back of Lisa’s head while the other hand cupped the side of her face delicately, while he ate at her lips, with hunger burning through his body.
He didn’t even use his tongue, but he sucked on her top lip, dominating the sweetness right from the source while Lisa enticed him with slow moves of her mouth, opening only the slightest way, like she knew how to drive him straight to hell to have more.
“Ryan,” she whispered between demanding kisses.
Kisses he couldn’t end, only allowing Lisa a moment’s breath before he dove back in again, nibbling her lower lip, then moving to the top one.
“Ryan, she moaned again, her hands roaming up to his shoulders. He detached their mouths, breathing in her exhaled air; her eyes were like two diamonds.
“Just this,” he promised, “just this mouth.” And then he went for it again, eating her moans, swallowing them down to his soul, keeping them hostage.
Fuck. Lisa had no idea how her sweet mouth had ripped his soul open.
Without thinking, he swept Lisa into his arms and onto his lap in the dark living room, lit by the paused TV. He’d done all that without breaking the connection of their mouths.
“Only this,” he told her again, cupping her head fully with his two hands.
If he could have vocalized what perfection was, it would have been the moment he felt Lisa nestled into his chest, offering her gorgeous mouth like a prize as her hand snuck around his neck, staying there while they kissed like two desperate people who’d missed each other.