Speed King (Men of Action)

by Ahren Sanders

  “I’m decisive when it comes to you.” His smirk melts my insides.

  “Yes,” I breathe out.

  His smile radiates as bright as the ring now resting against his cheek.

  “Now, that’s something to celebrate.”

  I forgot about the house full of people down the hall ready to celebrate homecomings and holidays.

  “They already know.” He reads my thoughts.

  “They do? How?”

  “Had the ring a while now. Since before we were called away. Jewls gave her approval.”

  “Of course, she did. It’s the most perfect ring in the history of rings.”

  “Glad you like it.”

  Something hits me. “Wait, is this why you’ve been in such a bad mood?”

  “One reason. I wanted to get home and get it on your finger. But that hospital was boring as fuck.”

  I giggle, sitting up and flashing my hand in the air.

  “Baby, you straddling my dick is not helping my condition.”

  I wiggle purposely, smiling at him. “You’ll live.”

  He glances at his wrist. “You’re right, because in about eight hours, I’ll be buried deep in your pussy with you wearing my ring.”

  My body does an all-over shiver, and I refrain from commenting on how barbaric he sounds.

  “We’re engaged.”

  “Yeah, and I’m guessing there are about twenty people outside that door waiting to hear the news.”

  I bend in for a quick kiss and roll off of him. He stands, adjusting the bulge in his pants. “Give me a second.” He goes to the back door and hauls in our bags, then takes my hand, pulling me to his side to guide us to the living room.

  Celia is the first person to spot us, her gaze dropping to our joined hands. Her face splits into a wide smile, and she lets out a cry of happiness. The entire room erupts and we’re surrounded.

  Achilles kisses the side of my head and gets away from the swarm of women.

  At some point, Pete and Dad step in to steal a quick hug, but otherwise, it’s a huddle of women gabbing over rings and wedding stories. Now that the families are assured the men are okay, the attention rains down on me.

  “I totally approved that ring,” Jewls announces proudly as if she picked it out herself. “Personally, I couldn’t believe the big oaf had taste.”

  “Jewls!”

  “Then again, he finally got off his ass and made a move on you, so he has some sense,” she covers.

  “He’s been in love with Harley since he was a teenager. This is like a real-life fairy tale,” Sandy states wistfully.

  “That damn husband of mine, he should have kept his mouth shut and we could have had grandbabies by now.” Mom drops that tidbit without even blinking.

  My eyes pop, and I search for Achilles across the room.

  ‘Babies,’ I mouth, and his lips curl up.

  The door opens, and Mike strolls in carrying a spray of holiday flowers and a case of beer. I slip through and go straight into his waiting arms.

  “Heard there was a homecoming celebration. Hope you don’t mind my crashing.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  His gaze travels over my shoulder. “Hey, man, damn good to see you.”

  I edge into Achilles while they shake hands. “Good to be home.”

  “Harley, goes without saying, due to the circumstances, we can push back your official start date and give you more time here.”

  This is not a surprise; I suspected Mike would offer. It’s not because we’re family, either. He’s that thoughtful, and it bleeds into his professional decisions. It was obvious when I called him from Coast Rica to fill him in on the guys’ recovery, he was pushing me to take all the time I needed.

  “That’s unnecessary. Achilles and I talked about it. I’m starting next week. He’s agreed to take it easy and follow all instructions on his recovery.” The last part isn’t exactly true.

  “Don’t remember agreeing to anything except you should start your new job as planned,” he utters.

  “Okay, I’ll amend my statement. At least, if I’m at work, I’ll be in denial that he’s actively disobeying medical advice on his rest and recovery.”

  Mike chuckles, jerking his chin in approval to Achilles. “We’ll make sure IT gets you outfitted with everything you need to work from home pretty quickly. In case you need to be here and supervise.”

  I smile in appreciation.

  The rest of the guys idle over, shaking hands and greeting.

  “Ahhhh!” I squeal when my feet leave the ground and I’m swept in the air.

  “Jay-Jay!” Drake’s deep voice booms in my ear as he shakes me.

  I’ve been so wrapped up with the ladies, I haven’t made my way around to see everyone. He places me down, and I twirl to hug him.

  “He may have had a life-threatening injury, but he still could pummel me,” he murmurs.

  I shoot Achilles a warning look and step over to hug Sam.

  The group gets quiet, and I note all eyes are on me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jay? My house?” Ford quirks an eyebrow.

  “I sent you pictures.”

  “You left out quite a few details.”

  “Told you it was over-the-top.”

  “Wait until it gets dark and you see the outside,” Dad pipes up. “Harley had us old men hustling.”

  “If any of the guys at the station still believe the Casanova myth, they should see this place now,” Talon adds.

  “Oh no! We can’t have that! I have the best thing going as the scandalous and sordid woman who frequents the Club.”

  Achilles yanks me to his chest, lifting my chin and brushing his lips across mine. “The house is beautiful, baby. You did well.”

  “Thanks. Hope you feel that way when we take it down.”

  “Those presents under the tree? Who are all those for?”

  The pile under the tree has tripled since I left on Christmas. “The moms added. We’re doing a real Christmas tomorrow with everyone.”

  His eyes darken and jaw ticks. “I agreed to share you with these people tonight. Not tomorrow.”

  “They’re not here for me, honey. They’re here for y’all.”

  “Jesus, is this our life?”

  “Isn’t it awesome?”

  “Next year—our house, my rules.”

  I smile wide, giggling a little. “We’ll see how that goes.”

  “I don’t care that it’s technically afternoon. It’s time to pop the champagne! Rich, come help,” Mom directs from the kitchen.

  “I’m guessing that rock on your finger isn’t an accessory.” Mike lifts my hand and inspects it.

  “No, I’m getting married.” The words tumble out gushy and girlie.

  “Congratulations, you two.” He slaps Achilles on the back. “Now let’s celebrate.”

  Feeling like I’m floating on cloud nine, I repeat his sentiment. “Let’s celebrate.”

  “Harley.” My name comes out as barbed and predatory.

  “Patience,” I urge, rolling my hips.

  “Been fucking patient for over a week. Give me your pussy or the deal’s off.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk… This is my show. Doctor’s orders.”

  “Doctor’s orders are no excessive exercise. Fucking you is not excessive.”

  I brace on his chest and feel the surge of empowerment at his expression. His jaw set firm, his eyes wide and hungry, his muscles flexed and defined. He’s on the brink, ready to throw me back and take control.

  I pivot my hips again, taking the tip of his cock and teasing him. “I disagree. It’s very excessive. And we have to be careful of your leg wound. No need to take any chances.”

  Fire blazes in his eyes, singeing over my skin. I heed his warning and drive down, impaling myself. My body quakes with a pinch of pain at the sudden invasion. I moan at the intense pleasure radiating all over.

  “Shit,” he hisses, “so damn tight.”

  “Hmmm
,” I mutter, rocking slowly.

  “Babe, you gotta move faster.”

  “Patience,” I repeat.

  Irritation flickers in his gaze before his lips curl naughtily. “You’re right. The view from down here is fucking incredible. Watching you ride me. Your hot, tight pussy is drenching my dick.”

  My stomach flips at the new hunger staring back at me. His cock pulsates and twitches, heightening my already shaky resolve. My plan to draw this out is backfiring.

  I move, rocking back and forth, the electric sensations already tingling. Since our first time, we’ve never gone this long without sex, and my body reacts to the sensation of his thickness stretching me. “Feels so good.”

  He grips my thighs, encouraging me to speed up. “You’re torturing yourself unnecessarily. You want to come. I can see it on your face.”

  He reads me expertly, but I refuse to succumb yet. His hips surge up, once, twice, and on the third stroke, the metal connects with the place that makes me crazy. I drop my head back, giving in and quickening my pace.

  My heart races and skin sizzles at the sensations building.

  “Give it to me, Harley.” His thumb circles my clit and I come apart.

  In a flash, he knifes up, cocooning me between his hard body and knees, his face coming to mine. “My girl was needy.”

  “Not fair,” I rasp out hoarsely.

  “Baby, you want to be a badass and own the control, you gotta be able to take my dick for more than a few minutes.”

  “It’s not my fault. You went off to play G.I. Joe. It’s been too long.”

  His lips twitch with amusement. “That’s why I jacked my junk to the image of you in that nightie before coming to bed. Knew I wouldn’t be able to last.”

  “Now, that’s really not fair.”

  “Had to take matters into my own hand, literally. What’d you expect with that get-up?”

  “I thought it would last through one use.” The silky material now lies somewhere in tatters.

  “Appreciate the effort.”

  “Apparently, I suck at the provocative part of seduction.”

  “No, baby, like everything else, you’re a natural.” He drives upward, gaining a moan of appreciation. “It’s hot watching you come apart and using my dick to get the edge off.”

  “Don’t be cocky.”

  “It’s true.”

  “It’s still crass.” I wiggle a little to get loose.

  All movement stops when his fingers twist around my nipples. I bite my cheek to keep from purring.

  “You wanted control, take it now.”

  I use his shoulders as leverage, rising and slamming back down.

  “Fuck yes.” His mouth goes to my chest, licking around my breast before sucking the nipple roughly.

  My stomach pitches, and the uncontrollable need to have him returns. I angle my hips and drive back and forth, clenching with each stroke. His face raises to mine, and I fight to breathe. Unmistakable savage power is written all over. He heaves up, driving so deep I cry out.

  Over and over, he hammers me from the bottom while I hold on and meet him stroke for stroke. We both move in sync.

  The sound of our bodies slapping and heavy breathing fill the room, and my brain fires off warnings.

  “Achilles—”

  “Get there, Harley,” he grinds out through gritted teeth.

  I refuse to come without him this time. My lower body tenses, my inner muscles clenching as hard as possible. I move on him frantically, knowing what’s coming.

  “Jesus, fucking aaaahhhh—” He drills me harder.

  A frenzied force hits hard, and I call out his name. My body takes flight, shattering as fierce waves of pleasure roll through me.

  He doesn’t let up fucking me until he lets out a roar. I barely hear him over the ringing in my ears. His cock convulses, inciting another orgasm from me. Through it all, he never stops moving.

  His gentle caress on my clit has me wheezing. Ecstasy rushes through my veins, threatening to drown me.

  His mouth goes to my ear. “Give me another one.”

  I thrash against him, holding on for dear life, unsure I can take anymore. “Can’t.” The ragged and hoarse word is almost like a plea for mercy.

  He continues to drive into me, his thumb brushing between my clit and where we’re connected. Electric heat races up my spine, and I grow dizzy.

  His dick jerks, and I fly apart again, melting into him and moaning incoherently.

  His lips trail down the column of my neck, both our hearts racing together. He removes his hand from between us and takes my left hand. His fingers circle my ring, pulling our hands to his chest.

  “Seems like I have a lot of lost time to make up for.” His voice is laced with smugness.

  My last bit of energy is used to clench around him. He goes rigid, hissing his reaction.

  “Shit, baby.” His knees drop, placing me back on the bed and kneeling above.

  My pulse races again at the smoldering shade of amber in his gaze. A renewed sense of verve stirs in my system. His eyes go to my chest, and it’s impossible to miss the glint of satisfaction.

  “You marked me, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” He traces over the area around my nipple. “Fucking beautiful.”

  “I just had mind-blowing sex with a complete Neanderthal.”

  “You’ll get used to it.” He grins slyly, not caring in the slightest.

  29

  Ace

  Tom’s the first person I spot when we walk in. His arms crossed, legs planted firm, and wearing his signature scowl. “I’ve been waiting for you to get here,” he belts out, and my eyes fly to the bar.

  Harley and Jewls are busy, but nothing they can’t handle, and the clientele is mostly women.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Your woman’s a mess. Came in here today hyped to the max. Won’t shut up. Jewls said it’s some kind of nervous energy, worried about you. She’s driving me fucking nuts.”

  “I’ll talk to her.”

  “You better. I agreed to a monthly ladies’ night. Now’s she’s pushing for nightly drink specials, more theme nights, and mentioned booking some local rock band. Apparently, her new fancy job has her hobnobbing with the rich and famous. She ain’t turning my blue bar into a millennial hotspot. Snap her into shape. Shut down this crazy talk.”

  He may have a tough exterior, but it’s easy to see he’s concerned about Harley.

  When word got out about our injuries, Tom was one of the first people to show at our house. Since it was Christmas Eve, Harley forced Jewls to go visit her parents and keep her original plans. Tom and Rich didn’t want Jewls driving in her state of mind and going on no sleep. They planned to meet Jewls’ parents at the state line, Tom following behind Jewls and Rich in her car.

  He then came back and sat with the family while they arranged their trip to Costa Rica. The night of our homecoming, he stopped in to confirm for himself we were all okay.

  Harley refers to him as a moody, gruff, irritable man with a heart of gold. I’m getting her point.

  “I’ll take care of her.”

  “Good. Customers love that bubbly bullshit, but I’m on the verge of tearing my hair out.” He looks across the group of us. “It’s about time all four of you get your asses back here. Figures it’s ladies’ night.”

  “Why come for the ladies when we have your charming personality?” Talon harasses him.

  “Screw you.” His gaze lands on Major and grows thoughtful. “You good?”

  “Yep, start desk duty next week.”

  “You too?” He points to me.

  “Yes.”

  His face grows serious, his eyes working through something before he speaks. “My older sister got engaged to her high school sweetheart at twenty-one. She was in college, he was in the Navy. A month after he proposed, enemy fire killed him. I was there the day his parents called. I was at her side at the funeral, and I’ve been there every day after. A
nything she’s ever needed, no questions asked. Took her years to move on, and she found a great guy to marry, but he never filled that hole. Not sure I can comprehend that level of loss. Then, a few weeks ago, déjà vu soaked me to the bones. Being in law enforcement is no cakewalk, not even close. But this old man can’t live to see that level of loss again, no matter how strong our Harley is.”

  Jesus. Fuck. That’s the most the man has said at one time ever. And he lays the heavy shit out there. The message isn’t lost. He’s aware of our meeting today. “I’d like to talk to Harley first before the news gets around.”

  “Respect. Drinks on me tonight—for all of you. Especially when you get that bubbling babble-head to calm herself.”

  He hustles away without another word, barely avoiding taking out a passing waitress that yelps. He glowers at her as she shoves him aside without a care of his disdain.

  “Oh, shit, incoming.”

  I hear Ford’s warning in time to catch a full glimpse of Harley before she slams into me, leaping into my arms. Her torn jeans are skin-tight, hugging her everywhere. The Tom’s shirt tied tight under her tits shows skin and the edge of her tattoo snaking out of the hem.

  “You’re here,” she breathes out like I’ve been gone for days.

  “Babe, told you we would be.”

  “It’s been hours since you called. Is everything alright?”

  “All good.” Talon steals a kiss on her cheek. “See you at the bar.”

  She wriggles to get down, but I hitch her higher. “Let’s talk in Tom’s office?”

  “Oh, dear God, do we need an office? You’re going back, aren’t you? Those people won’t let you go. You’re in for life, every month a drill, every day a chance to be called back. We can’t have a wedding because you can’t plan. I’ll have children alone in a hospital because you’ll be saving lives in foreign territories…” She rambles on with improbable jabber, demonstrating what Tom was referring to. I start toward his office.

  When we get there, I realize she hasn’t taken a breath. I shift my hold, lacing a hand in her hair and bringing her mouth to mine.

  “Breathe and calm down.”

  She inhales deep, her eyes wide and filled with worry. “Sorry, I’ve been a little wound up.”