Cutter's Claim: A Bad Boy Biker Romance (The Demon Squad MC Book 2) by Monique Moreau

Author:Monique Moreau [Moreau, Monique]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Monique Moreau Author
Published: 2020-09-17T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

Greta lounged among the overstuffed cushions of the couch, appreciating Hoodie’s paintings, in Cutter’s apartment. She’d won the fight over the material and color of the couch, but she’d lost over the size. The thing was humongous. As if it wasn’t enough that it was a sectional sofa, there was a fold-out sleeper unit. For the brothers. Heaven forbid they had to drag their butts out of the house after imbibing too much liquor.

Earlier in the day, Cutter had texted her, giving her exactly thirty minutes to wrap up her work at the office and meet him at his place. Sage’s giggles still rang in her ears, upon hearing that Cutter got his own house. Although she remained poker-faced at Sage’s gleeful display of hilarity, she was secretly giddy herself. They had come a long way.

Greta heard him ride up, shut down his motor, and thump up the stairs of the stoop. At the rattling of his keys, she dropped the pretense of reading her book. By the time her gorgeous man prowled toward her, her pussy clenched and thrummed in anticipation. She gobbled up the vision of him, windswept blond hair, cerulean-blue eyes, and strapping chest muscles encased in a leather cut. A smug smile played on his lips, and her eyes narrowed in response.

Cutter the trickster is out and about, ready to play.

Lifting two bulging shopping bags from his fingers, he dropped them by the couch. Shrugging off his cut, he threw it down beside her and commanded, “Change.”

Alrighty, then. Joker out, Dominant in. Normally, he’d take off his cut, hang it over the back of the chair placed by the door, and then grab her. Melt her with a hot kiss or two. Draw her over his lap for a cuddle. But, fuck if her heart rate didn’t accelerate at his bossy tone. Which was exactly why she wouldn’t do what he demanded of her. Lounging back, she slid her feet to the ground and lazily let her thighs drop open. Sliding her skirt up, she exposed her thong, the gossamer white fabric barely hiding her arousal. His gaze didn’t stray below her chin, so… In for a penny, in for a pound.

She cocked an eyebrow and drawled, “Excuse me? Did you leave your manners at the door?”

The muscle of his jaw began a rapid-fire ticking. Oh, he did not like that one bit. Bending down, Cutter thrust the cushions away from her, lifted her up by her butt and then dropped her. Her heart skipped another beat at his display of strength. Sitting upright, she dubiously eyed the bags by her feet. In one fluid movement, she raised her crocheted sweater over her head, and threw it away.

She paused for confirmation.

Standing, legs braced apart, he swirled his finger for her to continue. She wiggled out of her skirt, letting it drop to her feet. Then, she caught the ends of her shirt and seductively rolled it off, slowly exposing her lace-clad breasts. Under his heavy-lidded gaze, she unhooked her bra and let it drop halfway down her arms.

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