Chapter Seven

Bullet

As soon as she climbed from the bike, I missed the feel of her arms around me, of her hands gently rubbing my stomach. Christ, but her thighs had locked to mine like a vice.

“Thanks for dinner.” She smiled, handed me her gloves, and combed her curls from her face with her fingers.

“What now?” I asked and draped the gloves over the fuel tank and set mine on top of hers.

“I guess I’ll head inside. You probably want to hang out at the oil drum.”

“Stormy?” I hooked a finger in the belt loop of her jeans and tugged her closer. “We gotta start being honest with each other.”

“I thought we were.” She glanced around to see who might see us, but we were concealed with just the muted light coming from the windows of the MC.

“We’re dancing around the truth.” I twisted on the seat of the bike, rested one foot on the peg, one on the ground, and shifted her into the space between my thighs. Her eyes focused on mine, then seemed to map my face. But she didn’t pull away .

A light blush tinted her cheeks from the ride, and her untamed curls were wild from the wind.

“We can’t even tease each other without the conversation turning to shit.” I lowered my voice. “Are we going to pretend this isn’t going to happen between us?”

“We know that you and I wouldn’t work.”

“I keep telling myself that. Fuck, brown eyes, you’re killing me. I know I’m not what you need, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting more.” I ran my hand over her hip and into the cinch of her trim waist.

“How much more?”

“I want to be able to put my hands on you.” I trailed my fingers over the ladder of her ribs until my thumb skimmed the edge of her breast. “Since I walked into the bathroom with you in the tub, it’s been foreplay between us.”

“I’d call it sparring, warming up for the real fight.”

I swept my knuckles along her arm. “All good, kitten. I like to fight as much as I like to fuck.”

“Bullet—” She ducked her head. “What we want won’t change what’s between us.”

I could interpret her words to mean the violence in our history, or she was thinking of Bristol and Scarlett. “Right here, right now, there isn’t anything or anyone between us.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Fuck tomorrow, I have you here with me right now, and I want to know how wet your pussy is because my cock is a fucking steel pipe.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I’m drenched. ”

I groaned and pulled her closer. Her hand rested on my thigh. “Slide your fingers into your panties.”

She glanced over her shoulder.

“No one is watching.” I shifted her over until I split her legs, and she straddled my thigh. She clutched my shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscle, to steady herself. Her head tilted to the side, and heat from her pussy scorched my leg.

I grazed my nose along her neck and inhaled a cocktail of sweet sweat, lust, and flowers. A feral growl clawed up my throat. “Show me how wet you are. Touch your pussy.”

Her eyes widened, and a flutter danced in the hollow of her throat. “There are people right over there,” she said, indicating the oil drum in the distance.

“Don’t worry about anyone else. If I can’t touch you, I need you to touch yourself.” Heat surged through my groin, seeing the indecision on her face.

Her gaze darted in both directions, and a hint of a smile curved her lips. “Don’t let anyone see.”

“I’m right here.” I skated my fingers along her arm then circled her wrist. I guided her trembling hand to the edge of her jeans. “You do the same thing to me. I’m going to fuck my fist tonight.”

I released her wrist, slid my palm into the front of my jeans, and adjusted my dick. She sucked in a sharp breath, catching the glint of my piercing wedged between my abdomen and the belt of my jeans.

Her pink tongue slicked across her lower lip. She closed her eyes and slid her hand into her jeans.

“Look at me. I’ve been dreaming of those brown eyes. ”

“I’ve had dreams of you, too.”

“Did you touch yourself?”

“Yes.” Breath ghosted over her lips in a soft gasp.

“Fuck, kitten. Slide your finger against your clit.”

Her arm jerked as she reached between her legs.

“I want to do filthy things to you, Stormy. After I have you coming on my mouth, I’ll feel your pretty cunt choking my cock. I want to fuck you until your cum drips from my balls. Then I want you to use that pretty mouth to lick me clean.”

She stilled, and her mouth gaped. “How do you know my pussy is pretty?”

I smiled. “Prove me wrong.”

“I’m not dancing at the Landing Strip anymore.” Her brow arched, but her fingers slid deeper into her jeans.

“Fuck your fingers. Get off the way I do, imagining your lips glossy with spit as I come down your throat.”

I shielded her from view as she rubbed her pussy. “Tell me more. Because of you and your bike, I’m already close.”

“Your ass is perfection. I’d bend you over this bike, have you spit on my cock as lube so I can fuck that ass until you’re begging to come.” The corner of my mouth twitched. “Do you know how many times I’ve imagined soaking my cock in you?”

“How many?”

“Every time I close my eyes. ”

Her lips parted. “I’m almost there.”

I nipped her skin, then laved the sting with the flat of my tongue. She ground her pussy against my thigh, chasing her pleasure.

“Good girl,” I said.

“I’m coming.” She jolted, every muscle tensed, and a keening cry ripped from her mouth.

Bikes rumbled in the distance, laughter sounded from the guys around the fire, but it was soft curses coming from Stormy that had my heart slamming against my ribs, my cock leaking jizz, and my balls about to nut.

I banded my arms around her and pulled her hard against me. Her teeth sank into the meat of my chest. With one hand in her jeans, and the other fisted in my T-shirt, she splintered. Her body shuddered and trembled, riding out the storm of her release.

With a final gasp, she sagged against me.

I fisted my hand in her hair and angled her head back. Lust clouded her eyes, and her lips parted. “I’m hungry, Stormy.” Reaching between us, I shackled her wrist with my hand. “Put your fingers in my mouth.”

With a hesitant touch, she smeared her creamy fingers across my lips. I flared my nostrils, tightening my grasp on her wrist, and plunged her fingers into my mouth.

Fucking hell. She tasted like sin. Dark, mysterious, and so fucking good. I curled my tongue between her fingers, teasing the flavor from her skin as I pulled her hand away. A taste wasn’t enough .

Two guys approached. “Torch is looking for you,” one said as they made their way to the fire in the oil drum.

With the intrusion, I watched the spark dim from her eyes, replaced with insecurity or maybe guilt. I could hear her words without her speaking. She and I would be a mistake.

“You need to go.” Her nails combed my goatee, her thumb traced the shape of my lips, and she took a step back.

I countered with a step of my own. “You can’t run from this.”

“You’re making me crazy.”

“I’m making you admit you want the same thing I do. I’ve had a taste, and do you know what you taste like? You taste like mine, Stormy.”

She hesitated to speak for a moment. “And what does Bristol taste like?” She backed against the wall of the church.

“Bristol doesn’t have anything to do with you and me.” I crowded her space, resting my hands against the bricks.

“Bullet, she’s my best friend. I feel like I’m betraying her.”

“I’m not possessive over her or any of my girls.” I stared hard into her eyes. “My hands are going to be the only ones touching you.”

“What if I want to be the only one touching you?” she whispered. “I know what it feels like to see you touching someone else.” A sad smile found her lips. “I’d belong to you, but you’d never belong just to me. ”

I growled and curled my hand into a fist.

“Bristol warned me. I get it. I feel it, too. You’re hard to resist. But we’ve been together for two days, and I’ve seen you with two other women. I’m not angry. But I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t jealous. It would hurt to have to share you.”

I heard her words. I wasn’t going to manipulate her into bed by promising monogamy. “You and me, it doesn’t have to be complicated.”

She swallowed hard. “But we are. I’m in a mess. Be honest, there’s no future for us. We’d have a moment, but one that will make it harder for me to leave, and I can’t stay.”

We stared at each other until I finally nodded and backed away from her.

“Thank you.” She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek.

Even after she walked away, her scent lingered. A dark need simmered in a once black hole of emotion. I didn’t get jealous, especially over pussy, but she was right. We weren’t simple, and my reactions to her were getting complicated.

We had more issues than my business. I couldn’t ignore my responsibilities. Even if I wasn’t fucking Bristol, the girls had twenty-four access to me.

Stormy had made it clear. Our situation was temporary. Once I’d eliminated Barras, she’d bounce.

I wanted time with her, wanted to figure out why she’d gotten under my skin, and wanted to get under hers. But she wasn’t a woman you fucked on the side. She’d be someone’s old lady. Bedded then wedded to a faithful man .

That wasn’t me. I lit a cigarette and made my way to the barrel.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Torch said and smiled. “Let’s take a walk.”

I nodded, and we moved away from where we could be overheard.

“Alex is arranging a meeting. Tomorrow night at his club.” Torch chuckled. “I have to let you in on a little secret. Ever heard of a place called High Protocol?”

“Strip club?” I asked.

“A little darker than that. High Protocol is an exclusive dungeon. BDSM. I’m talking next level wealthy. Membership will run you five figures a year.”

I whistled as we rounded the backside of the property. “Is that where we’ll find Barras?”

“Dude, it’s where you’ll find me and Gabi a couple nights a week. Gabi works for Alex outside the club, but my membership is part of my compensation package. I’ve had a side hustle for a couple of years. You’d be surprised what these rich fuckers will pay for a metal bedframe rigged with restraints.”

I laughed. “I know you like inflicting pain.” We’d been beating the shit out of each other in the basement for years.

“Alex wants to meet tomorrow night at the club.” Torch slid his hands into his pockets. “You can trust him. There’s security in the club, but the men we’re meeting aren’t typically in the business of sharing information, especially when it comes to their family.”

“Have you talked to Blade? ”

“Yes, but we can’t march an entourage of Hellers through Protocol. You gotta blend in. Gabi and I will be there. She can help Stormy. Your girl will need to ditch the jeans and T-shirts for leather and skin. No cuts. No guns. No Jazzy.” Torch groaned. “I love that girl, but submissive isn’t in her vocabulary. Not that there aren’t Dommes in the club, but they aren’t breaking balls unless their sub is into it. I figured you’d want Rogue with us, but you know how Jazzy is. Can’t leave her out of a battle.”

“No problem. We’re just going for information. I know you have my back. And brother, you know I have yours.” His secrets weren’t mine to share. I didn’t judge, and I’d never given a fuck all what anyone thought of me…until now. Until Stormy.

We circled the building. “About eight.” Torch rubbed the back of his neck with a palm. “The thing is, Gabi and I plan to stick around the club after the meeting. I can get you access.”

Of all my girls, Lacey was the only one who played in the scene. Before I’d let her take clients, she’d understood the rules of safe, sane, and consensual. I wasn’t going to yuck someone’s yum, but I’d never found much appeal in the sadomasochistic part of BDSM. But thinking of Stormy in a sex club had my cock thickening.

“Forget I said anything.”

Torch must have taken my lack of a response as a rejection.

“I gotta be honest. Stormy and I aren’t at that point.” And it was unlikely we ever would be. “But if she agrees, I’d want to stay. ”

We approached the door to the MC. It had gotten late. Most of the bikes were gone. Inside, Levi and Gabi sat with Romeo and Blue. I glanced around for Stormy as I approached the table.

Blue stood. “I was waiting to talk to you.”

I stepped to the side with him. “What’s up?”

“I got a text from Kiss.” He nervously glanced around us. “Fuck, dude, she wanted to see if she could crash at Indulgence again. I told her we were shut down for a couple weeks.”

I leaned against the edge of the table. “You can’t fix her.”

He nodded. “I know that. But it fucking sucks. She’s trying to get clean, hitting the clinic every day, and shit.”

Maybe the kid was good for her. I dug my money clip from my wallet and peeled two hundred bucks off the top. “I’ll make you a deal. You can get her a motel room for a couple of nights. I don’t care if you stay with her.”

“Thanks.” Blue reached for the money, but I pulled it back.

“Don’t fuck her, Blue. I don’t care where you get your dick wet as long as it isn’t in a junkie.” I handed him the money.

“See you tomorrow,” Torch hollered to me as he walked out of the MC with his old lady, Gabi. Blue jogged to catch up to them.

“Stormy said she was taking a shower and going to bed.” Levi snapped off the lights behind the bar, and Romeo locked the door .

After they disappeared into their room, I sat alone in the muted glow of the streetlight coming through the stained glass and smoked a cigarette. In forty-eight hours, the girl I couldn’t forget had become a fucking contradiction.

A lot was said tonight, but Stormy had made one thing clear. There wasn’t going to be anything but friendship between us. Not as long as I had obligations to Bristol and the girls.

Stormy wasn’t a friend. Outside of my MC brothers, Bristol was my friend. Clover and Lacey were always by my side. Good friends. With the heel of my palm to my chin, I cracked my neck. I fucked my friends.

I stubbed out my cigarette and headed to Blade’s room. We used to call it the president’s suite. Biggest room, biggest bathroom, but since moving with Hana into Pippa and Dozer’s house, our current president’s room had become storage. Boxes of his shit lined the wall.

I’d never had a room in the MC. Never wanted one. My place outside of town was home.

Sitting on the end of his bed, I jerked off my boots. Maybe I should have asked Blade if I could borrow his room for a few weeks. Stormy could’ve stayed in here and had a bathroom with more privacy.

I shrugged out of my cut, set my weapon next to me, ripped my T-shirt over my head, and headed for the shower. A change of clothes would’ve been nice. I’d ride out to the house tomorrow and grab a few things.

With my face tipped to the warm spray of water, I thought of Stormy. She was all I could think about. I still hated how we parted earlier. Especially after the way she’d clung to me on the bike.

I ran my hands over my hair, pushing it off my face. I didn’t want to confirm her assumptions about me, that my life revolved around bikes, brothers, and Bristol. Although, her assumptions were better than the truth. There were seven deadly sins, and I pursued them all with purpose.

Once I dried off, I climbed under the thin sheet, thought about Stormy, but the twist in my gut had me crawling out of bed, shrugging on my jeans without underwear, grabbing my gun, and going to her room. The hall was quiet as I tested the handle and found it unlocked.

My chest was tight as I locked the door and set my weapon next to her perfume and lotions. I could tell myself all kinds of shit about why I was in her room, like I just wanted to make sure she was safe or the fucked-up logic that allowed me access to her room because I paid the rent. There was only one reason I was slipping into her bed. And it wasn’t to fuck her, although my dick was ready to argue. Not that I’d listen because my dick couldn’t tell the difference between friendship and fucking.

But this right here, this woman, she was my issue. I couldn’t stay away from her.

Darkness draped the room. I focused on the softness of her breath. The blankets molded to her form as she slept on the bed. She rested on her side with hands pillowed beneath her cheek.

I walked to the other side of the mattress and, leaving my jeans on, slid under the sheet and quilt. I rested my arms above my head, and a heavy sigh relaxed my body.

She stirred, and the bed dipped as she turned toward me. Her sleepy eyes parted. I didn’t reach for her, just smiled, and closed my eyes. But as I breathed in the scent of her, I felt the heat of her stare and heard the catch in her breath.

Moments passed, neither of us moving and neither of us sleeping. Building tension soaked the room in quiet.

“I’m not fucking my girls, Stormy. I’m not fucking anyone, not as long as I’m in your bed.” The words hung between us. My intention wasn’t to get between her thighs, at least not tonight. I didn’t know what the fuck this was between us, but it was just between us .

Fabric rustled. “Okay.”

I turned my head as her eyes closed, and she snuggled into her pillow. I heaved a heavy exhale, closed my eyes again, and finally found sleep. The soul-deep sleep of the dead. But it didn’t last long.

Soft skin slid across my bare chest, and the weight of her thigh settled between mine. During the night, Stormy had wrapped herself around me like a koala. Predawn glow broke the horizon. Morning mist slipped through the window she’d left open, chilling the room. But her warm body curled against mine. Her arm rested on my chest, her fingertips tickling my flesh. With her head cradled against my shoulder, I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her closer.

Her eyes opened and lifted to mine. Fuck, but she was pretty. Her features were soft in the pale light coming through the thin curtains .

“Why?” she whispered.

“There can be a lot of questions in one word.” I knew the one she asked. I swallowed the answer staining the tip of my tongue because whatever her question, the answer would be yes.

Yes, I wanted to protect her. She had my guts twisted and my cock hard. So no, I wasn’t going to fuck anyone else, because yes, I wanted to be with her—only her—even though I knew she was going to leave. I didn’t care about tomorrow.

Her fingers traced the edge of the ink on my chest—a cross, topped with thorns, and dripping blood. Beneath were the words Have Mercy on my Soul . A table of tally marks inked my ribs. Yes, I was going to kill for her. Soon there would be another hash mark. More if anyone else threatened her.

I traced a circular pattern on her bare shoulder. She shivered as I dragged my fingertips along her collarbone and into the hollow of her throat. Her back arched, and the sleep cami hanging loose on her body molded to her small round tits and revealed the shadow of her beaded nipples.

Her hand covered mine, stilling my exploration of her soft skin. “Last night, you said there wouldn’t be anyone else. Why?”

“Because they wouldn’t be you.” The gravelly edge of my voice sounded harsh in the room. I adjusted next to her, tucking her against my side. Our fingers aligned, palm to palm.

“No wedding ring.”

“Never been married, and no little Hellers running around either. ”

Our fingertips touched, pressing into each other. Her fingers were graceful and slender like the rest of her. Light pink polish tinted her nails. The hands of a lady, of a ballet dancer.

I had the hands of a killer, sullied with ink and scars. Rings to represent and to cause a lot of fucking damage in a fight.

“Have you ever wanted to be?” Her gaze lifted to mine. “To be married?”

“Not even close. Never proposed. I can’t say that I’ve ever been in love.” I kept her nestled tight to my side. “Actually, that’s a lie. I was in love once.”

“Yeah?” Her voice lifted. “Tell me about her.”

“She was blonde. Her name was Cinder. But she had too many bad habits. It wasn’t meant to last.”

She smiled. “For you, that’s saying something. Was she a messy eater?”

“Worse. Shit kisser. Too sloppy with drool and all tongue.”

She snorted. “She sounds like your type of girl.”

“I could’ve lived with the licking, but she loved to dig under the fence.”

A giggle rumbled from her chest. “I thought you were serious.”

“I am. I fucking loved that dog. Guess she was like me, a mutt, defiant, and wanted to be free. She got under the fence and ran into the road. A car hit her.”

She was quiet. “That sucks.”

“I felt like shit when it happened. Did you ever have a pet?”

She smiled. “I won a goldfish at the carnival when I was six.” Almost instantly, her smile fell. “Oh god, this is a terrible comparison. But I suppose he would have been a wet kisser too…if he’d lived.” She tried not to laugh but failed. “He died when my mom put him in the car. It was a warm day,” she said and laughed again, the vibration of her body making me laugh. “She cooked him like a fish boil. It’s not funny. I shouldn’t be laughing. I’m going to hell.”

“You’ll have me for company.”

“Have you ever wanted for a different life, one where you don’t carry a gun?”

“Nah.” I held up my left hand, showing her my rings. “I wear the skull on my middle finger as a fuck you to society and all her rules. I’m going to live, or I’m going to die, but it’s going to be on my fucking terms. Two wheels down, riding with my brothers.”

She twisted the ring. I splayed my fingers and weaved them with hers. A serpent wrapped my pinky.

“And the snake?” she asked.

“Revelation 12:9. The great dragon was cast out, that serpent of old, called the Devil and Satan, who deceives the whole world; he was cast to the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.”

She lifted her face, and those brown eyes filled with a questioning sadness.

“Are you a believer?” I asked her. I’d been raised in a religious home, shaped by the zealous teachings of a mentally ill mother and burdened with enough guilt to start my own religion.

“I think so. I want to believe there’s some bigger plan.”

I inhaled, flaring my nostrils. “So do I, brown eyes.” With her in my arms, this was the closest I’d ever come to heaven. Keeping her safe was the only redemption I’d need.

“But I wouldn’t get into a philosophical debate with someone.” She relaxed into me. “You can’t argue someone’s beliefs. I guess, I hope I do enough good to outweigh the bad.” She angled her head to look at my face. “What about you?”

“I got a path to walk, and it doesn’t smell like vanilla and wildflowers. There’s a lot of blood on my hands.”

She interlocked our fingers and touched the ring on my index finger. “Were you in the Marines?”

“My old man was. The ring is the only thing I have left of his. Mom is gone, too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. Life fucks with us all. My dad died when I was young. One night he drank himself stupid, then he ate his revolver. Mom was raised in church. I guess she felt like she had to pay for his sins, too. She wanted to instill the fear of God into me. Spare the rod. Spoil the child. She tried to beat the devil out of me. She only managed to make him come out to play.”

A soft chuckle slipped from her lips. We steeped in a comfortable silence, weaving our fingers together. The soft contours of her body fit perfectly against the hard slope of mine. “When did she die?”

“Two weeks before my twenty-first birthday. Breast cancer. She refused medical treatment. She tried to pray it out.” I slipped the fingers of my right hand through her silky hair.

“You were my age.” She burrowed closer, keeping our hands joined .

“Twenty-one, huh?” She was just a baby. I wasn’t old enough to be her daddy, but she was too fucking young to attach herself to someone like me. Not that it was going to stop me from wanting more with her.

“I feel a lot older.” She sighed. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-three. Too old for you.”

“Not too old to be friends,” she said.

“Friends don’t share a bed.”

She smashed her lips together and rolled them inward.

“What?” I asked.

“I know of two examples, both would work to prove my point that you share a bed with friends regularly. But I’m not saying anything because I’m enjoying this snuggle, and I don’t want to fight.”

“I don’t snuggle.” I growled and looked around for my cigarettes.

“And you think I like to argue? This is most definitely a snuggle because we have clothes on.”

“Last night, I grabbed a shower but didn’t have a change of clothes.” As much as I’d enjoy a cigarette right now, I didn’t want to move either. She felt too fucking good lying next to me. “I wouldn’t consider wearing jeans and nothing else being dressed.”

Blood boiled in my veins from the heat of her palm on my bare chest. Her sleepy eyes held mine. The scents. The softness. The quivers and the heat. “You still want to pretend we’re just friends in bed?”

The curtains fluttered in the early morning breeze coming through the window, filling the uncomfortableness between us. Her focus shifted from my eyes to my mouth and took a slow journey over my inked chest and nipple piercing. I had the frame of a fighter, scarred and weathered, but hard with muscle.

“I don’t know what we are, Bullet. You’re nothing like Emerson. You haven’t lied about who you are. Maybe that scares me the most.” Her breaths grew shallow, and there was a tremble in her lips. “Emerson lied to me. What he didn’t lie about, he omitted. In the beginning, I was too na?ve to know the right questions to ask. I had this foolish idea that we’d get married and have kids. But oops. Too late. He already had a wife and child.”

I stilled, then released her hand, and leaned up on one elbow. “He has a kid?” I had no issue killing a man who deserved death. Justice didn’t require a courtroom. But a man with the responsibility of a kid? If I was going to make a child fatherless, I had to know there was no path to redemption.

“Yes, and a wife.” She rolled to her side then sat up. She crossed her legs on the bed. “I didn’t know. Once we started dating, we were always together. I moved into his penthouse.” Her shoulders slumped. “Maybe there were signs. I made excuses for him. He worked long hours. Stress made him irritable. He could be mean. When he’s in a bad place, it’s best to stay out of his way.”

Her gaze locked with mine.

“When men show up at two in the morning to conduct business behind closed doors, you stop asking questions. He’d go out of town. I assumed he cheated since he wouldn’t take me on trips to the coast. I didn’t realize I was the secret.” She grabbed the quilt and pulled it higher, as if shielding herself from her memories.

“How did you find out?”

“I was so stupid about him until I wasn’t.”

I grazed my knuckles along her arm.

“He made the mistake of leaving his phone in the bathroom. The screen was locked. I couldn’t open the thread, but I could see the texts as they came in. His wife was emailing about their upcoming anniversary trip. He was taking her to Paris. To the Shangri-La overlooking the Eiffel tower. The same place he took me for our second date.”

“Sounds like a whirlwind romance.”

“It started that way. I was eighteen, and he blew my mind. I was charmed by his money and charisma. He claimed to love going to the ballet as much as I did. We were good until we got ugly.

“Sometimes, I wondered if I still would’ve fallen for him if I’d known he was married. Not that it matters now. Cheating on his wife is the least of his character defects.” Her eyes met mine again.

She continued, “I confronted him. He said the marriage was a business arrangement. The Paris trip was an obligation. I wanted to believe him, but I can be tenacious. I needed proof one way or another. When he left for work, I tore apart the penthouse. I found the evidence and a lot more. Weapons, cash, and photos…some that I wish I’d never seen.”

I lifted a brow.

“There were pictures from a party on a yacht.” She grew quiet. “There were young girls in the pictures. You want my secret. I knew then what he was. I was disgusted. I have so many regrets, Bullet.”

“Why didn’t you leave?” My tone wasn’t accusatory, but I wanted to know what made her stay.

“I tried. I only needed the lesson on betraying him once, but he made sure to remind me regularly.”

A volatile rage erupted in my gut. “What was the lesson, Stormy?”

A tremble rippled through her.

“Did he hurt you?”

She nodded once. “He never left a mark, at least not where anyone would see.”

The fucker was dead. I was glad she understood I was nothing like him. “You got me now, brown eyes. No one is going to hurt you again.”

“I want to kiss you.” She hesitantly leaned over. With the soft touch of her lips, I was fucking gone. With an unholy possessiveness, I fisted my hand in her hair, spun her to her back, and devoured her. I parted her lips with mine, sought her tongue, and curled around the taste of her.

I couldn’t kiss enough, touch enough, breathe her in deep enough.

I claimed her like I owned her, sliding my tongue into her mouth in a messy tangle of spit, teeth, and lips.

A submissive whimper from her lips was kindling on a barely banked fire. My cock dug into the curvature of her hip. Gripping my shoulders, she kissed me with a ferociousness that matched my own feral need.

I licked along a tendon in her neck, feeling her pulse flutter against my tongue. Covering her breast with my hand, I rolled and pinched her nipple through her sleep tank, molding her silken form to my palm.

A soft gasp rushed from her lips, but her nails clawed into my muscle. “Bullet.”

Ignoring her pleas, I split her legs with my thigh, and my cock ground into her, indulging a carnal need to fuck.

I wanted in her mind the way my body demanded to be inside her body. She’d said she’d only been with her ex. Only known the touch of one other man. One too fucking many. I sucked hard where her neck met her shoulder.

“Holy shit.” She grabbed my hair, but I sucked harder until I’d left my claim on her. She jerked my head from her neck. Fire sparked from her glaring eyes as she stared hard at me, and she slapped her other hand to her neck. “What are you doing?”

A deviant smile curled my lips as a blush of color rose to the surface of her flesh. “Marking you as mine.” Marking her with pleasure instead of pain.

“You gave me a hickey?”

“Uh huh.” I pressed the flat of my tongue to her jaw, kissing my way to her mouth and dipping in for another taste.

She curled her tongue with mine, and her fingers sifted through my hair. My gut tightened in concert with my cock pulsing, biting into the zipper of my jeans. She was small beneath me but strong. Her hips rocked against me.

“Everyone will know.” Her palm slid along the ridges of my lats .

I lifted off her enough to stare into her eyes. “I don’t have to fuck you on the altar of the MC to prove you’re mine, but I would. Now, spread your legs so I can give you what you want.” I shifted my leg, pressing my thigh against her heated pussy, and she thrust against me, grinding toward release. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” she hissed. She grasped my arm, her nails gouged my skin, and her hips jutted forward, seeking more friction. Her body tensed, her grip tightened, and her back arched off the bed.

“Use that mouth to tell me what you want.”

“I don’t want to talk. I want you to kiss me. I want this. I want you.” Her gaze snapped to mine. “I want you to make me come,” she rushed to say. “Just this…just this once.”

Nah, I was going to have her coming again and again, riding on my mouth, on my fingers, and on my cock. But we’d take it at her speed. I’d wait for her to admit she wanted me the same way I wanted her. “That’s it, brown eyes.”

I slammed my lips onto hers and swallowed her shallow gasp. With a wild recklessness, she kissed me and came in a turbulent storm of tremors and wetness. Cream soaked through her sleep shorts and dampened my jeans as she crested the peak.

Fucking beautiful. My cock throbbed, and my balls were ready to nut. Her pink tongue slicked across her upper lip, her breathing slowed, and her thighs butterflied open. She softened and relaxed into the mattress .

“God, I’m weak,” she mumbled and threaded her fingers into my hair again, bringing my lips to hers.

She was sweet as fuck against my tongue. I nuzzled against her neck, nipping and sucking her sugared skin. “That’s not a word I’d use to describe you. Strong, determined, brave, beautiful—”

She chuckled and rolled out from under me. “—hungry.”

With a groan, I flopped to my back. “I have shit to do today.”

“Will you be gone all day again?” She slid out of bed, opened the dresser drawer, and selected a clean pair of panties and a bra.

The mattress creaked as I stood. “ We’ll be gone all day.” I slapped her ass and stepped around her.

“Where am I going?”

I chuckled and opened the door. “With me,” I said and walked out of the room.

She leaned into the hall. “You want me to go with you?”

“Ten minutes,” I said over my shoulder. I needed a cigarette, a cup of coffee, and ten minutes for my dick to forget the feel of her pressed against me.

“I need to take a shower.”

Stormy wet, hot, and naked. I growled. “Make it quick.”