Hash Tags: #bikers #mcromance #olderman #maydecember #badboy #hot #eroticromance #FallenGliders
Dominic “Nicky” Landon has been a Sargent at Arms for the Fallen Gliders for thirty years. When he finds out his only sister overdoses on drugs dealt by his brothers, he hands in his colors and severs ties to the club and vicious lifestyle forever.
Mel Hughson owns the only bar in hicksville, no-mans-land, New Hampshire. She’s content with her single life, but the cold, spring night Nicky Landon’s Harley rolls into town ignites her desire. The fact he’s got at least twenty years on her doesn’t mean jack to Mel. He’s hot, he’s dangerous, and whether he knows it or not, he belongs to her.
Can Mel tempt Nicky to ignore their age gap and surrender to her, or will the secrets from his perilous past rise up to destroy everything?
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We knocked the liquor back, and our gazes met as we set the glasses on the bar.
“How old are you?” Nicky asked, his attention snagging on my lips.
He scrubbed a hand over the beard lining his jaw while looking away. “So damn young.”
“Not too young.” Gauntlet thrown, I waited for his attention to return to my face. Eyes full of lust, a leashed animal that ought to scare the shit out of me but didn’t.
“I’m no good.”
I cocked my head and slid my gaze down over him, not missing the hard length straining against his leathers. “Look pretty damn good to me.”
His low groan rushed need through me again, and I knew I’d leave a wet spot on the stool once I got up.
“You’re messing with fire, little girl.”
Heat flushed through me. “I enjoy flames now and then.” My breath caught at the hunger on his face, parting my lips.
“Fuck it.” He grasped my chin in his warm palm. “I’ll give you what you want, little girl, but don’t go crying to your mommy in the morning because a big bad wolf left his mark on you.”
Oh, God. I swallowed and squeezed my thighs together. Older men were so the shit.
He captured my lips, but without the brute force I’d expected. Hunger, yes, but the full softness of his lips pressed against mine, taking and tasting, his tongue probing, whiskers brushing my skin. I parted my lips and moaned as he sank his tongue into my mouth, fucking every hidden corner, filling me with the taste of whiskey and pure male. My skin pebbled, pulse thrummed.
“Goddamn.” Nicky stood and yanked me off the stool. Virile, pure hardness and muscle beneath the leather hiding his skin from my grasping hands. His fingers fisted in my long hair, tangling and yanking my head to the side, the other grabbing my ass and hauling me against his huge cock.
He crouched down slightly and pulled me up. My legs wrapped around him as though having a mind of their own—even though I had been thinking about getting him between my legs all night long.
His beard brushed along my neck as he breathed me in and licked from my collarbone to my ear. “You smell like a fucking spring day. Innocent.”
“I’m h-hardly an innocent,” I gasped as he bit my earlobe and ground his cock against my sopping jeans.
“Thank God, because I want to be balls deep inside of you. Now.”
He thrust, and I moaned, my fingers grasping at his t-shirt.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered harshly in my ear.
“No way in hell.”
With a growl, he squeezed my ass to the point of pain. “I haven’t wanted a woman like this in a long fucking time.”
“So take what you want.”
“Goddamn.” He rested his forehead on mine. “Right here?”
I slithered a hand between us to grasp the hardness inside his leathers. “Right now.”
“Fuck.” Like my five-foot-six frame and thirty extra pounds meant nothing, he spun me around. “Hands on the bar.”
I did as told, bending at the waist and putting my ass on display with a little wiggle.
“Don’t move,” he said while peeling off his leather jacket.
My legs trembled, and I turned my head to watch as he moved to the front door and flicked off the lights.
The streetlight half a block away barely cut through the storm, but the flash of lightning lit Nicky up as he stalked back toward me, shedding his t-shirt.
Broad shoulders … another flash filled my eyes with tanned skin stretched tight over massive pecs and abs a twenty-year-old guy would kill for.
I licked my lips, hoping for another flash of light, but Nicky palmed my waist and leaned over my back, his cock pressed against my ass, the heat of his skin searing me through my shirt.
My eyelids fluttered shut as he wrapped his fingers around my hair again and tilted my head back.
“Last chance, Mel.” His rumbling voice and hot breath against my ear brought a moan past my lips.
“Take me,” I managed to whisper and licked my dry lips. “Please.”
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About Lynn Burke:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.