Chapter Eight

Kylie

S unlight filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, blaring against my eyelids like a silent alarm clock demanding I wake up. I blink them open with a reluctant groan, still tangled around Memphis. Actually, he's tangled around me, his grip possessive as he pins me beneath him.

He looks peaceful in his sleep. But there's no mistaking that peace for vulnerability, not with dark tattoos climbing all over his body and his hair all wild around his face. He's etched from stone, every inch of him a hard slab of muscle. Lord have mercy, he's beautiful in a way that should be criminal.

Even when I was a little girl, I thought he was beautiful. I didn't know him well. My mother didn't like him coming around. As soon as she found out about the MC, she kicked Jayson out and told him not to come back until he came to his senses. I didn't see Memphis much, only when Jayson managed to sneak by while Mama was working and brought him along. But the few times I did, he was this wild, gorgeous man who seemed larger than life.

He's even more beautiful now. And somehow, even more larger than life. The man ages like fine wine or Tennessee whiskey—both only get better with age.

My bladder screams for release as I stare at him. I squirm beneath him, trying to wriggle out of his iron grip without waking him. I move slow, barely daring to breathe. Call me crazy, but I don't think he sleeps much.

What he said yesterday about Jayson being his brother hit me hard. Whatever happened, I think it still haunts him. He regrets it. I saw it in his eyes. He could barely say his name without choking on it. I desperately want to know what happened to my brother, but I'm not sure demanding those answers from Memphis is the right thing to do anymore. Whatever happened back then still hurts him. He still grieves over it.

Riley didn't just give him a fresh start and a second chance. She saved his life. Making him face it all again now won't bring my brother back. All it'll do is hurt him all over again. As much as I want answers, I'm not sure they're worth the price anymore. Not if the cost is what peace he's managed to carve out.

I slide the rest of the way out from beneath him, preparing to stand. My right foot hits the floor.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice is low and gritty from sleep, sending shivers down my spine. He catches me around the waist, hauling me backward onto the bed. Within seconds, I'm on my back again, pinned beneath his inked, muscular body.

"Would you let me go?" I huff, annoyed at how easily he manhandles me. And at how much I like it.

"You aren't sneaking out of my bed, princess," he growls, his expression dark as he looms above me, all hot and pissed off.

"I wasn't sneaking out, Memphis." I shove against his shoulder, trying to push him off…which is useless. The man is a freaking brick wall. "Get off, you big bully. I need to pee."

"Oh yeah?" he challenges. His eyes run across my face, one brow lifting as a devilish smirk dances at his lips.

Shit, I've done it again. The more I push his buttons, the more he pushes back.

"Don't you dare," I hiss, knowing full well what that glint in his eye means. No one tells Memphis what to do. It's a dare to him every damn time.

He slips his hand between my legs, homing in on my clit. "Better come fast, Toto. Because you aren't leaving this bed until you do."

"Oh, God," I moan, arching into his touch despite myself. Damn him and his irresistible ways.

His dark chuckle rolls over me, his breath hot against my neck. "No, Kylie. It's not God. I clawed my way out of hell, baby. You scream for Memphis."

And there it is, the reminder of the tortured past that still haunts him. The one I'm still trying to understand, even as I surrender my heart and soul to him.

He continues to torment me, knowing damn well that he's got me right where he wants me. I don't care about the bathroom anymore. I don't care about anything but what he's doing to me. My body trembles under his relentless assault, each stroke of his fingers driving me higher.

"Please, Memphis," I gasp, desperation edging into my voice as the need to come builds to an unbearable peak.

"Tell me who you belong to, Kylie," he orders, an edge of authority in his gravelly voice that makes me crazy.

I want to tell him that I don't belong to anyone. No one owns me. No one controls me. But he does, damn him.

"Y-you," I gasp, my mind a haze of pleasure. "I belong to you."

"Fuck yeah, you do," he growls, focusing his attention on pushing me over the edge. And no one focuses quite like Memphis. When he wants something, he's implacable.

His fingers drive into me with a relentless pace, curling and stroking that sweet spot deep inside that has stars erupting behind my eyes.

I writhe beneath him, my body bowing off the bed as the knot of pleasure winds tighter and tighter. His calloused thumb circles my clit with just the right pressure, playing my body like one of his drums.

"That's it, baby," he rasps against my ear, his eyes locked on my face. "Give it to me. Let me feel you come all over my fingers."

A strangled moan escapes my lips as the coil inside me snaps. I groan his name as I come apart in his arms, my body shuddering with the force of my release. For a moment, I'm lost in the ecstasy, everything but the pleasure disappearing.

But he isn't done with me yet.

Before I even come down, he flips me onto my stomach, yanking my hips up.

"On your knees, princess," he commands, his eyes blazing with desire as he cranes my head back with one hand in my hair.

I obey without hesitation, the raw power in his voice compelling me to submit. He positions himself behind me, the heat of his body radiating against mine. Anticipation spikes as he grips my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh.

"Ready for more, Toto?" he teases, his breath hot against my ear as he runs his cock through my folds.

"Please… yes," I murmur, craving the feel of him inside me again. I need it. God, I think I'd fucking beg for it at this point.

He slams into me without warning, stretching and filling me. I cry out at the sheer force of his thrust. At the sheer size of him. My inner muscles twinge, but it doesn't hurt. God, no. Nothing has ever felt better than him inside me.

He fucks me without mercy or restraint, each powerful thrust branding me as his own. Again and again, he pounds into me, fucking me so deep I lose track of everything but him.

"God, Memphis," I moan, gripping the sheets beneath me as my body bows to him once again, unable to withstand his power over me.

"Come for me, Kylie," he growls, his hand tangled in my hair. "I'm not stopping until you scream my name."

I can't resist him. I don't even try.

I surrender to the sensations flooding through me. The orgasm rocks me to my core, waves of euphoria crashing through me as I scream his name, giving him exactly what he wants.

"Fuck, baby," he grunts, his own release pulsing hot within me.

I moan, loving the way it feels. Loving every damn second of this. And as we come down, tangled together, I realize there's no turning back now—I'm bound to this man, for better or worse.

A few minutes later, I find myself cradled in his strong arms as he carries me to the bathroom like I weigh nothing. My legs still tremble from my orgasm and my heart races at the way he cares for me as if I'm something priceless.

When he's inside me, he fucks me like a beast. But every other minute of the day, he's so gentle with me, so careful.

He sets me down on my feet as soon as we're over the threshold, a wicked grin playing on his lips. "Alright, Toto. You can pee now."

"Thanks, Wizard," I snap back, scowling daggers at him. I should probably hate his stupid nickname for me, but I honestly kind of love it. It's ridiculous, but so is he. And every damn time he says it, I think about what he said that day in his office. Toto was the best part of the movie to him. He was always my favorite part, too.

Ignoring Memphis's amused expression, I hurry to the toilet and close the door behind me. The sound of running water reaches my ears, and I realize that he's preparing the shower while I take care of business.

When I step out of the private toilet area, steam billows around the spacious bathroom. Memphis stands under the hot spray, water sluicing down his tattooed body. I stop mid-step, staring at him.

Lord, he's gorgeous.

He sees me staring and grins, his cobalt eyes running down my body. He crooks a finger, beckoning me toward him. "You better get in here before I have to come get you, princess."

I bite my lip, my core clenching. For a brief moment, I consider making him come and get me. But I have a feeling if I do, it's going to end with me running through this big ass house with him chasing me. And when he catches me, he'll deliver more orgasms than I can safely handle at the moment.

Considering that my body is still tingling from his touch, I go with option two.

I scurry toward the shower, allowing him to pull me inside. He slams the door behind me, plastering his body to mine.

"Knew you'd see it my way," he breathes, his lips touching mine in a sweet kiss before he pushes me beneath the hot spray.

"Memphis, what are you doing?" I ask, trying to sound more exasperated than intrigued. Hot water cascades down on us, shutting out the world.

"Taking care of you." His voice softens as he reaches for the shower gel. "You're mine now. That means I look after you in every way, Toto."

"Is that so?" I ask, raising an eyebrow even as my heart flutters at his words. He's the most complicated man I've ever met, but I think I want him to care for me—even if it is in his domineering, bossy way. There's something endearing about it, as if he's never done it before and doesn't know the first thing about it but is trying like hell to get it right anyway.

"Damn right," he growls, lathering up a washcloth with the tip of his tongue caught between his lips. He gently runs it over my body, his touch is surprisingly tender as he cleans me, and I can't help but lean into him, craving the intimacy between us. "Now, hush and let me do my job, and then I'll drive you home."

"Fine," I concede, fighting a smile as I surrender another piece of myself into his hands.

An hour later, the hotel I've been living in looms in front of us, and Memphis's grip on the steering wheel of his truck tightens so much his knuckles turn white.

"You're living here?" he growls, his voice a deep rumble that spells trouble.

"It's only temporary." It's not the best hotel in the city, but it's not the worst, either. There are no millionaire musicians here, but it's not a pay-by-the-hour place, either. Everything is clean and orderly, and it's in a decent area within walking distance of the bar.

"Hell no." He pulls into the parking lot and kills the engine.

"What?" I ask, genuinely confused by his sudden rage. There are far worst places than this. We passed a few on the way here.

"You've been living in a hotel." His voice drops an entire octave.

"Yes. I just said it's only temporary." I wasn't even sure how long I'd be in Nashville when I got here. It didn't make sense to rent an apartment. And now…well, now things are more complicated than ever.

"Fuck no." He pockets the keys and levels me with a look that could put the devil himself to shame. "Get your shit."

"What?" I blink at him, not sure what he's freaking out about. "Why?"

"Get your shit, Toto. You're coming home with me," he growls, impatience etched into every line of his face.

I gape at him, struck silent.

"You aren't living in a fucking hotel when I have a goddamn mansion. You can stay with me."

"I'm not moving in with you!" I cry, staring at him like he just grew a second head. We just slept together for the first time last night. Now he wants me to move in? He's lost his mind.

"Yeah, you are." The finality in his tone leaves no room for arguments, but I can't help myself. Of course, I argue.

"No, I'm not, Memphis. You're insane."

His eyes narrow into slits. He's fast for a man his size, I'll give him that. Before I can even reach for the door handle, he's on top of me. One hand tangles in my hair. The other wraps around my waist. His lips come down on mine in a scorching kiss tinged with fury—one that leaves me breathless and reeling.

"You can either agree, or I can fuck you into seeing it my way right here and now. But either way, it ends with you staying with me, Kylie. So take your pick."

I scowl at him, fairly certain he isn't bluffing. If I don't give him what he wants, he'll do exactly what he just said.

"Memphis, be reasonable."

"Reasonable? You want reasonable, baby? We passed that when I had my tongue in that tiny little hole of yours while you were choking on my cock." He reaches for his belt buckle, his eyes glittering with some emotion I can't name.

Panic surges through me as he rips the belt free of the first loop.

"You've got five seconds."

The belt rips through a second loop.

My heart races, torn between frustration and something that feels suspiciously like excitement.

The belt passes the third loop.

"Fine!" I squeal.

Memphis smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "Knew you'd see it my way, princess."

I shoot him a dirty look, but he just laughs as he climbs out of the truck.

"You're a madman, you know that, right?" I call after him.

He glances over his shoulder at me, his expression smoldering. "Oh, I'm well fuckin' aware of just how goddamn crazy I am, princess." His gaze drifts to my lips. "I realized it about the time you walked into my fucking bar." His lips lift into that half-smirk that drives me wild. "Get your cute ass out of the truck before I decide to see how loud you can scream for me in this parking lot, Toto."

He slams the door, leaving me reeling inside the truck alone. Good lord. What the hell have I gotten myself into with this man?