"I forgot to put them on this morning." Helen responded sheepishly.

With a dirty smile, Lee disappeared beneath her miniskirt again and planted his lips between her legs. Helen craned her neck backwards and spread her thighs reflexively as Lee expertly kissed and sucked at the fleshy doors of her feminine gateway. His tongue darted in and out of her c.u.n.t, pa.s.sing through the holes in her fishnet stockings to get to the undefended treasure between her legs. As he repeatedly planted his lips on her s.e.x, he also tickled and teased her c.l.i.toris with the tip of his tongue. The resulting pleasure was exquisite to say the least.

Helen was helpless. Not only to the man between her thighs, but to the pleasure that his mouth created in her. The real reason she hadn't put on any panties was to make herself feel s.e.xy on stage. In spite of trying to sideline any place for s.e.x in her life, Helen was perfectly happy using her body to excite the Harpies' fans. She loved nothing more than to play and perform onstage, but she also liked to tease the fans with her body. It gave her a s.e.xually-charged sense of power to know that many of her male fans-and possibly a few female ones as well-would go to bed fantasizing about her p.u.s.s.y.

In all that time, Helen had never once imagined that someone would actually get at her lower regions. And yet here she was with a man between her legs, licking and lapping away at her most powerful onstage weapon. It was profoundly disempowering to have a man pleasure her most vulnerable point, and yet it was happening, and it felt so heavenly. Helen closed her thighs around Lee's ears and planted her hands on his head. She ran her fingers through his fine, blond hair, surrendering herself to the disarming pleasure growing in her c.u.n.t. At long last, the pleasure became too much to hold back, and Helen squealed aloud as an o.r.g.a.s.m set fire to her v.a.g.i.n.a. The pleasure bloomed up from her groin through the base of her belly and she gripped Lee's hair as tightly as she could, forcing him to continue setting her p.u.s.s.y on fire. Her lover eagerly lapped up her pleasure and he continued to lick and suck even as her o.r.g.a.s.m began to subside; now, his own needs demanded satisfaction.

Lee reemerged from beneath Helen's miniskirt and stood again. Still delirious with ecstasy, Helen didn't resist when he scooped her up off the bedside table and lifted her bodily into the air. Helen wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed. He lowered her gently down onto her back and positioned himself between her stocking-clad thighs.

By this point Helen was a far cry from the tough, no-bulls.h.i.t punk rocker that had walked into the Viking Bar earlier in the evening. Lee Evans had awakened feelings inside of her that she had tried to suppress for a long time. s.e.xual teasing had been nothing more than a tool to excite fans of the band, but s.e.x was never supposed to hold a central place in her life. It was all about the music. The slick and handsome biker was turning all of that thinking on its head as he removed Helen's shoes and carefully rolled down her stockings. Helen lay submissively on her back as her lover pulled down his pants and kicked them off along with his shoes. Now naked, he crawled forward between Helen's naked thighs to claim the prize between them.

When Helen looked up and saw the hardened rod of masculinity moving towards her womanhood, her s.e.xual reverie temporarily broken. Lee's c.o.c.k was long and thick, and she doubted it would fit inside her. Moreover, her feisty, aggressive side started to rea.s.sert itself. She'd always been a girl who could handle herself and kick the a.s.s of anyone and anything that got in her way. She wasn't totally prepared to surrender all of that to a complete stranger. But then Helen looked up again at the embodiment of masculine majesty looming over her, and realized it was too late to pull out now. She had taken the risk of getting herself alone with this devilishly charming man, and she had to surrender to the consequences.

When the tip of Lee's c.o.c.k touched the wet lips of her womanhood, Helen's remaining layers of resistance dissolved. She bent her knees and curled her toes in response to the meeting of their s.e.xes. Slowly and gently, her lover began to push his p.e.n.i.s in between her nether-lips. Helen's eyes widened as his full length and girth made itself known deep inside her most sensitive pa.s.sageway. She wasn't a virgin, but it had been a long time since a man had been inside her, and the fit was a tight one. Lee continued to push, slowly but surely, all the way into her until the tip of his c.o.c.k kissed the sealed gateway to her womb. This was it. Helen was now the most vulnerable she had ever been to anyone, and she had willingly brought herself to this point.

Having bottomed out inside his young conquest, Lee began to thrust. His initial strokes were steady and purposeful. His hips rocked and rolled back and forth, hitting a regular beat as their mating commenced. Helen found a strange satisfaction in imagining the coupling in musical terms, and embraced her lover. Her legs went high into the air and she wrapped her arms around his powerful shoulders. The sheer size and girth of his c.o.c.k inside her p.u.s.s.y produced mild pain, but it was alleviated by the ample juices Lee's expert oral ministrations had elicited from her. His c.o.c.k slid in and out like a well-lubricated piston, thrusting into Helen's love-tunnel with surprisingly gentle grace.

The gentleness didn't last long as Helen squeezed Lee as he pushed deeper, digging her nails into the skin of his back and demanding wordlessly that he stop playing the nice guy. Her lover obliged and accelerated his thrusting to a more aggressive pace, ramming into her with virile aggression. The sudden change took Helen by surprise and she was tempted to surrender completely and let her lover have his way with her until he came. But Helen wasn't content to just lie down and receptively submit to his strokes. She began to thrust her hips back at him, teasing the fleshy intruder inside her, tempting it to spill its treasure early. Lee wasn't having it. He accelerated his f.u.c.king again, driving back aggressively against Helen's counter-attack. The poor girl was helpless. Everything she did to challenge and thwart him simply spurred him on to conquer her.

The vigorous motions inside Helen's c.u.n.t, not to mention her overwhelming powerlessness to prevent the unstoppable stud between her legs from taking over, were building a second climax within her body. Her p.u.s.s.y was so wet and slick with pleasure that each inward stroke of Lee's manhood produced an audible, lewd noise where their s.e.xes were joined. The powerful tingling of excitement in her groin continued to build to a fiery crescendo until it erupted within her a second time. Helen squealed again as the o.r.g.a.s.m overwhelmed her senses. She wrapped all four limbs around her lover as tightly as possible, begging him to release himself inside of her. Lee had been rapidly approaching his own climax, and the ecstasy of the girl beneath him sent him over the edge.

With an awe-inspiring, masculine snarl of pleasure, Lee thrust himself into Helen as deeply as he could go, burying his c.o.c.k inside her. Helen was still in the middle of her own o.r.g.a.s.mic high when she felt her lover's c.o.c.k twitch inside her. The first spurt of warm seed shot to the back of her p.u.s.s.y, followed by a second, and a third, and a fourth. His e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns came in a seemingly unending succession, bathing the gateway to her vulnerable womb in sperm. In the midst of their shared climax it occurred to Helen that they weren't using any protection, and that her fertile p.u.s.s.y was at that moment being invaded by potent male seed. The prospect of pregnancy was a sobering thought in an otherwise euphoric event, but for now Helen embraced it as part of the beauty of the moment. She could worry about the future when it arrived.

"I guess this means I can call you 'h.e.l.l' now," Lee murmured into Helen's ear.

"h.e.l.l yeah, you can," Helen giggled as her body floated down from its s.e.xual high.

"So, h.e.l.l, what do you think of the Harpies as an in-house band at the Viking Bar?" The suggestion caught Helen off-guard.

"What, so you can have three chicks to bone instead of one?" Helen asked suspiciously.

"I mean you and your two friends can play here once or twice a week for a regular salary," Lee elaborated. "You're a h.e.l.l of a band, but you're way too wild for most of the other establishments in town. I'm offering you job security."

"But you're part of a motorcycle club," Helen pointed out. "Don't you have to ask the president or the board of directors or something?"

"The club put me in charge of running this bar," Lee explained. "As long as the place stays in the black, I can run it however I like, which includes what staff and entertainment to hire. If you agree, the Harpies will officially be on the payroll of the Vikings MC."

"And as a perk, the bartender gets to f.u.c.k the Hapries' lead singer whenever he wants to," Helen added with a mock scowl. It was actually a pretty good deal.

"What do you say?" Lee smirked in reply.

"I can't make a decision without talking it over with Dana and Kat first." Helen replied. "But we'll definitely think about it. For now, though, I think it's time to sleep."

Lee obliged and switched off the bedroom light.

Below are some of Miriam Becker's other works to enjoy! Tap the covers for a sample

To Tame a Fire.

Miriam Becker.

There had always been something in Haley Moraine that loved the freezing cold snow. Maybe it was genetic, since her mother was Swedish and tended to blend in with the snow. But then, Haley remembered her father, a hot blooded Jamaican, who bundled up in five layers at even the hint of a chill in July. Whatever it was, something called the young woman to the snow-capped mountains, luring her to winter sports-specifically downhill skiing.

It was this unfounded pa.s.sion of hers that had turned Haley into somewhat of a superstar in her hometown of Burlington, Vermont. The minute word about the fierce and compet.i.tive sixteen-year-old skier had gotten out, people had begun to ask if she'd go to the Olympics. The concept had been interesting and exciting, something she'd never even thought possible. Four years later, poised at the starting gate of a ski course, the concept wasn't just a wistful thought anymore, but a serious possibility.

"Just... focus," Haley coached herself, as she stared down the mountain at the packed, white snow. There were only two other skiers on the course, and they'd already set out down the track, carving it up with speed and precision.

Four years ago, Haley would have joined them. She would have smiled along with them, as the bitterly cold air whipped her face and tried to get under her goggles. But that was when she'd skied for fun, for the love of the winter sport. The stakes were higher now, demanding more of her concentration and attention.

"You'll be fine, doll. Just remember what we talked about," Reser, her coach, reminded her in that thick, nicotine-ruined voice of his.

Haley nodded and reached down to make sure her boots were properly buckled. A few calming, steady breaths later and she was off, racing down the slope faster than she'd ever driven. In a few seconds, she felt like she was flying, and the love she'd originally felt for the sport came back to her. It felt like time rushed past her and the wind tried to stop her, as she propelled forward and down the course.

It was only a few seconds, but it felt so much longer. Easing up on her speed, as more people came into view at the base of the mountain, Haley's eyes caught the sight of a man standing in the middle of her path. He was looking up at her with wide eyes.

She couldn't see much of him through her somewhat foggy goggles, but he was wearing bright blue skis and a black ski suit. He looked really tall, too. Seconds rushed past, as she closed the distance between herself and the man.

He's gonna move, right? Haley wondered, as she narrowed her eyes and moved her head to the side, gesturing him to get out of her way. But, the man didn't move an inch, his gaze still trained on her form.

The seconds narrowed down. Four... three... two... "s.h.i.t!"

Haley veered quickly, turned her skis, and got caught on a clump of snow. She fell, curling her body as she did to avoid getting hurt. For a few terrifying seconds, she rolled down the hill, her head tucked into her body.

With a final slide, she came to a stop. She was left curled on her side in the snow. It was another tense moment of mentally checking her body for any serious damage before Haley pushed herself up.

Angrily, she turned to the man who had gotten in her way and nearly jeopardized her budding career. "Are you crazy?"

The man blinked back at her tone and quickly crossed the ten or so feet to her side. Haley tilted her chin up, angry that the man was taller than her. Usually, she looked down at people because not many women or men, for that matter were six feet tall. But this man, he was not only significantly taller than her, but also bigger.

"I'm sorry. It's just... you looked beautiful...skiing like that." The man's eyes were intense. They were a dark brown, bordering on black, and were framed by thick lashes. Haley didn't have to wonder if he was being serious, his eyes said it all.

A blush tried to steal against her cheeks, but she squashed it and tried her best to glare at the man. "I could have gotten seriously hurt because you were checking me out!"

A smile tugged his lips up. "Kyle."

A skier in the corner of her eye caught Haley's attention, and she turned to see Reser speeding down the slope towards her. Snapping her attention back to the man in front of her, Haley yanked off her now completely fogged-up goggles and got her first good look at the man.

"What?" she said, her voice just a bit higher than it needed to be.

As she took in the guy in front of her, she couldn't help but notice that he was hot. Like mouth-watering, lifting-weights-in-the-sunshine, s.e.x-up-against-a-wall hot. Six feet and a bunch of inches of tanned skin was wrapped around thick, hard muscle. Full lips, the color of dusty roses were curved in a taut cupid's bow. High cheekbones, a wide forehead, and a strong jaw complimented his masculine good looks. He made Haley think of a caveman warrior who carried women back to his cave and kept them there for days of hot, sweaty, fantastic s.e.x.

And she got all that from one look.

"My name's Kyle," the man said, his amus.e.m.e.nt deepening into a cat-who-ate-the-canary smile.

"Why does that-"

"Haley!" Reser called out to her, as he came closer and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You okay, doll?"

The man, Kyle, looked at Reser like he wanted to punch the guy in the face. He glared at the hand on her shoulder, as if he wanted to pry off every finger and break it. Another caveman image popped into her head, and a little part of her really liked it.

"I'm fine, Coach," Haley emphasized the word, as she addressed Reser. "I was just chewing this guy out."

"Kyle," the caveman across from her said, drawing out the word. His dark brown eyes met hers, demanding she acknowledge him.

A shiver raced through Haley that had nothing to do with the cold. The man had intense eyes, the kind that hid all sorts of secrets. She knew that she should stay away from guys who clearly had Bad Boy written across their foreheads in big, bold, black letters. A bad boy had stolen her heart and nearly ended her skiing career. Haley knew better than to trust tall, dark, and...hmm... delicious men.

"Just... be careful. Next time you pull a stunt like that, the person might not react as quickly as I did." Haley turned to her coach, dismissing Kyle in an instant.

"Let me buy you a cup of coffee to apologize." It was a different experience hearing his voice when she wasn't facing him. Haley could detect a slight accent in the rumbling baritone, something that told her English wasn't his first language or that maybe he was bilingual.

Pleasure raced across her mind at the thought that the caveman in front of her might speak another language. For some reason, a man speaking another language was so attractive to her, so... s.e.xy. Kyle should have come with a hazard sign attached to him at birth, he was just too much.

"Look, pal," Reser puffed out his chest like an overprotective father and addressed Kyle, "Haley's got practice and-"

"Haley."

That single word made her turn back to Kyle. The way he said her name had her panties burning. It was only two simple syllables, but the way he drew it out, stretching her name and inflicting the word with his unique accent, practically had her stripping in the snow and begging him to take her back to his cave.

"Have a drink with me." It was a command, no doubt about that.

Suddenly, all thoughts of the snow-capped Rocky Mountains seemed to pale in comparison to the promise in that simple command. What was the harm of having a drink anyway? It was obvious the caveman wasn't about to let her go, if his eyes were any indication. Besides, as much as she hated to admit it, she was exhausted. It was four in the afternoon and she'd been up since three, training her b.u.t.t off. She'd gone down the slopes so many times that she'd lost count. A few ten minute breaks here and there weren't cutting it. The thought of two more weeks of training at that pace seemed exhausting, and caused her body to throb painfully. Right then, coffee sounded like Heaven.

Turning back to Reser, Haley shrugged casually. "I'm exhausted, Reser. You mind?"

The bearded and bedraggled Olympian looked from Kyle to her with uncertainty furrowing his brows; but, after a long sigh, he acquiesced. "I'll check in on you at eight. If you're not back by then, I'm calling the police and explaining in excruciating detail the last person I saw you with."

Kyle laughed heartily and said, "When you do, make sure you talk to Jules Hurst."

Reser scowled, but Haley ignored it and pushed past him. "Fair warning. I'm getting the most expensive thing on the menu and you're paying."

Another deep chuckle that curled her toes. "I'd expect nothing else."

"What's your most expensive drink?" Haley smiled politely at the waiter, as she handed him the frayed menu without opening it.

"That would be our deluxe-"

"She'll have it. And I'll have coffee. Black."

Haley turned her head slowly to the man sitting across from her, as he handed his menu to the waiter and sent the guy on his way.

"How do you know that's what I want?" Haley asked suspiciously, as she plunked her goggles on the table and rolled her neck to relieve the tension.

"I don't, but you did say you wanted the most expensive thing. I figured you'd want it regardless of the ingredients." The man shrugged lightly and placed his arms on the table. "You can always get something else, if you don't like it."

Biting back a sa.s.sy retort, Haley tugged off her gloves and wiggled her fingers to get warmth back into them. Turning away from Kyle, she looked around the dead restaurant. There was only one other couple cozied up to the fireplace in the middle of the room. They looked like they were getting ready to leave, if constant arm stroking was any indication. Rolling her eyes at the scene, Haley relaxed into the calming atmosphere of the resort's bar. Soft red carpet complimented the wood and hunting motif, and the fireplace centered in the middle of the restaurant added an unnecessary element of intimacy to the place.

"I take it you've never been in here," Kyle said, drawing Haley's attention back to him.

She shook her head once. "I've been here a week, but I haven't seen much beyond the gym, my bed, and the slopes."

He leaned forward and dropped his voice down to a purr. "Why's that?"

Warning bells went off in her head, reminding her that animalistic s.e.x in a deserted restaurant with a stranger was not on her agenda. "Because I want to go to the Olympics, and I don't want to f.u.c.k up my chances."

At that moment, their drinks arrived and Kyle leaned back regarding her impa.s.sively. After delivering what looked like a mountain of whipped-cream and caramel drizzle, the waiter murmured something that sounded like enjoy and went to check on the love birds by the fire.

Picking up the long spoon that sat demurely next to the monster drink, Haley scooped up about a pound of whipped cream and moaned softly as the flavors. .h.i.t her tongue. She had a terrible sweet tooth. As she took a bite of the drink that would probably make her cry if she knew he calorie count, she knew she was still going to finish every last drop.

"You know what they say, Haley," Kyle murmured around a sip of steaming, black coffee. "All work and no play-"

"Makes people very successful?" she interjected with a doe-eyed glance.

Another deep laugh rumbled through the caveman's chest. Despite her best intentions, Haley smiled and laughed right with him. From there, the conversation hopped to a variety of topics, and two hours later, Haley was one hundred percent positive that Kyle should have Bad Boy tattooed across his forehead.

Not only was the man panty-dropping, mind-numbingly attractive, but he was also President of the Red Hawks Motorcycle Club. His tanned skin and intense dark brown eyes came from his mother, a Ute Native American. His height and long, thick black hair-only seen after he'd removed his black ski cap-came from his Caucasian father, who, as Kyle so elegantly stated was a cold, cruel b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Reaching over to touch his arm lightly, Haley smiled into his eyes. "It's getting late and I have training in the morning, so..."

Kyle smiled softly and took the hint. "I was serious about before, though, Haley. All work and no play does make you a dull girl."

Rolling her eyes, Haley swatted him playfully. "I thought this was playing. Was I wrong?"

"Not entirely, but you need to have more fun." Kyle leaned forward, his eyes tracing her lips and dropping down to her ski suit covered b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She might as well have been naked with the way he looked at her.

"You're about ten inches south of where my eyes are."

A smile ghosted across his face. "Come to the bike blessing tomorrow night."

Another command. The man was full of them.

"What's that?"

"You'll have to come and find out."

Haley laughed, the sound a tad bit too sultry. She tried to remind herself again that she didn't have time to play. Her goal was the Olympics, she had to keep that in mind.

"I have training tomorrow, and in between I have to get some sort of sleep."

Kyle shrugged lightly, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a twenty and a business card. "Here." He pa.s.sed Haley the business card and slapped the twenty on the table, as he got up from his seat. "It starts at eight, behind the Killigan's. Wear something... black."