Shot grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back. I tilted my chin up so I could meet his gaze. He rested a warm palm on one of my cheeks and used his thumb to caress my jawline.
“When you have a bad day at work, I want you to tell me what you can. I respect that there are parts of what you do that you can’t share with me for legal reasons, but you don’t need to keep all of that bottled up. If you gotta cry, you cry. If you need to scream, go ahead and scream. I’m here, but you gotta give me the same leeway. What I do”—he shook his head ever so slightly—“and where I go, I can’t always talk to you about those things, sometimes for legal reasons, sometimes for your own safety. It’s not because I don’t want to, but because it’s not only me who’s affected if I do. I don’t do things I’m ashamed of or regret, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the world sees it the same way.” There was a rebellious glint in his eyes that I found inexplicably attractive. “I promise to give you as much information as I can, and I swear I will always check in with you when I’m able. If I end up dead I will make sure one of my guys lets you know. Same if I end up in jail. The latter is more likely than the first, but you know better than anyone that nothing in life is certain. All we can do is take each day as it comes.”
I stared at him for a long time. This relationship was balanced on a precipice, and it seemed like any minute things could fall either way. I wasn’t sure I was made of tough enough stuff to maintain that delicate balance being with him was going to require.
But I wanted to try…as long as there were some ground rules we agreed to follow.
“What you do and what I do, they might collide in the worst way down the road. If that happens”—I pleaded with my eyes for him to understand—“my job comes first, even if it affects you and the club adversely.”
I was surprised when he let out a little laugh. “Top pretty much gave me the same warning. How about we cross that bridge when we get to it? If I think I see a collision coming I’ll try to head it off at the pass, and if I can’t, I’m willing to accept the consequences.” He gave me a little wink, trying to lighten the mood. “Just like I’m willing to face your wrath for breaking into your place because I’m worried about you and can’t think straight.”
I sighed. He was trying to be sweet but was still missing the point. “But I’m going to have to deal with those consequences, too. Do you realize what it will do to me if I’m the one who hurts you or one of your members? How am I supposed to live with that? With the guilt and the loss?”
Didn’t he understand how hard that would be for me?
Shot bent his head and pressed his lips against mine. It was a hard kiss, a reassuring kiss. A kiss that meant business.
“We can worry about all the possibilities that we can’t control, or we can focus on the actualities we have complete say over. If all you do is worry about what might happen, instead of embracing the moment we’re actually in right now, you’re going to miss out on some pretty great experiences.”
Shot couldn’t know he’d pretty much laid out my biggest regret when it came to my childhood. All day, every day, I waited and watched, worrying about what was going to happen with my mother. My entire existence was built around what-ifs. What if she died today? What if I didn’t get to say goodbye? What if she’d never been sick in the first place? What if my life was different? What if I was different? Always wondering. Always waiting. And where had it gotten either of us?
Nowhere.
He kissed me again and I was appropriately distracted. It was so much better to get lost in him than it was to wander in the past where things couldn’t be changed.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and lifted up on my toes to return the kiss. Within seconds my towel was on the ground and Shot had his hands all over my naked skin. I thought I would get used to how it felt to have his hands and mouth on my body. I honestly believed the electric spark that fired to life under my skin everywhere his fingertips trailed would fade away after a few intimate moments. Holy hell, was I wrong.
Every time he touched me, every time he made love to me, it was more intense, bigger, and better than the time before. Maybe it was because I was more comfortable with myself the more familiar we became with one another, but it was more likely that Shot was just that potent, just that skilled, that he had something new to bring to the table each and every time we got together.
There were very few flat surfaces in my apartment that had gone unused since Shot started being a regular visitor. It was by far the most intense and physical relationship I’d ever been in. It was highly flattering how he seemed unable to keep his hands off me, but the reverse was also true. He was hot. He was incredibly sexy. And for the first time in my life, I was actively invested in experiencing all that someone else had to offer and making that other person feel as good as they made me feel.
When Shot pulled away so we could breathe, he touched his forehead to mine and told me in a very quiet voice, “I’m sorry I overreacted when you didn’t answer your phone. Until Ashby is behind bars, I can’t promise I’ll behave rationally. I lose my mind a little when I think you might be in danger.”
It was actually kind of sweet, and I’d never had anyone who cared that much about me before, aside from my mother—and it wasn’t like she’d ever been in any kind of condition to rush to my rescue should I need it. Who would’ve ever thought I was going to end up with my very own hero…or rather, my very own antihero? Who would’ve ever believed I would need someone willing to save the day?
Not me.
I leaned forward so I could nuzzle the tip of my nose against his. Without question, he had so much more experience in all aspects than I did, but he always seemed to like when I took the initiative, no matter how clumsy or wholesome the gesture came across.
“I forgive you. Now take me to bed.”
Chapter 17
Shot
I kissed Presley the entire way to her bedroom. My clothes joined hers on the hallway floor, leaving a scattered trail to the back of her apartment. I considered it a win that she was now comfortable enough with me that she didn’t seem fazed at all being naked outside of the bathroom or the bedroom. She still had moments of shyness I found utterly endearing and sweet, but I liked that she was getting bolder and more obvious when it came to her wants and needs. Watching her come into her own was beautiful, and I fully believed one day she was going to see herself the way others did instead of through the eyes of a scared, ostracized child who grew into a reserved, cautious woman. Not only was she like a butterfly breaking free of a cocoon, she was also learning how to spread those big, beautiful wings so she could fly.
Her hands skimmed over my skin, her nails scraping lightly over the designs inked on my ribs and across my stomach. Every hurried step brought my straining cock into contact with her soft skin. It was already so hard it hurt in a good way, and the brief contact had the slit slippery with excited wetness. I didn’t bother to turn on the lights in her bedroom. I’d spent plenty of time in the room lately, so I could find my way without being able to see everything clearly. I also knew my way around her body by feel and by taste. I could find the soft spot behind her ear that drove her crazy even if I was blindfolded. I could feel the way her nipples tightened and the way her body shivered in the darkness. I could hear the way her breathing hitched and then came out in an excited rush, and I knew she was excited without being able to see her eyes or the rosy flush covering her pale skin.
When we reached her bed our kisses slowed, and it was more like we were breathing each other in as our lips touched. I ran a hand down her hair and across her back. I put the other on her backside and pulled her flush against me. There was no hiding how my body reacted to her, or her gasp when she felt the hot length of my erection trapped between our bare bodies. Her hands curled around my biceps and her lips landed on the edge of my jaw. She kissed her way to my ear, and I swore quietly when her tongue flicked out to trace along the outer shell. My ears weren’t as sensitive
as hers, but it still felt nice. I liked it when she played with the silver hoops dangling from the lobe. I liked when she showed her sweet side, and she seemed to appreciate all the things about me that were different from all the other men who had briefly been in her life.
I groaned when she slid a hand between us and wrapped it around the rigid flesh pressing eagerly against her stomach. She gave my cock a playful little squeeze before dragging her thumb through the moisture leaking from the tip and spreading it around in a smooth glide. She stroked her hand up and down, making the muscles in my stomach clench in pleasure and forcing me to lock my knees when they became slightly watery. I pulled back just enough so she could move her hand up and down unhindered, and closed my eyes so I could enjoy the sensation. Her hold was delicate and light, a feather-like touch I felt all the way to my bones. I enjoyed the way she handled me like she was afraid she might hurt me, or that I would break if she was too rough. No one treated me like I was fragile, not in my whole life, until she came along. It was a precious experience, so I didn’t tell her I could handle so much more. It was fun letting her find her own way and figure things out. I was happy to be her sexual learning curve.
I groaned when she tightened her hand and used her thumb to trace along the throbbing vein that ran along the underside of my cock. Now, that spot was extra sensitive, and I liked it when she did that, a lot. I bent my head so I could find her mouth. In the dark, I caught her chin first and kissed it until she giggled. It was such a carefree sound, considering the mess she’d been when I broke into her bathroom earlier. I would never classify myself as any kind of hero, but I felt like I saved the damn world when I could make her forget about her bad day and focus on something else.
I growled against her lips when her questing fingers found their way between my legs and skated over the supersensitive orbs tucked away down there. My balls were already pulled tight with desire, and I could feel them pulse with pleasure when her fingertips danced across the tender surface. When she was done playing and I was on the brink of losing my mind, I gave her an almost punishing kiss and maneuvered her so she fell backward onto her bed. She landed with a gasp and another giggle.
Instead of following her down to the mattress, I moved to her mirrored nightstand so I could dig protection out of the drawer. Once I was suited up and ready to go I moved back to the bed. To my surprise, in the shadows filtering through the darkened space, I could just make out that Presley was touching herself with her long, pale fingers. I instantly regretted not turning on the light because that was a show I didn’t want to miss a second of. I heard her let out a breathy sigh and felt my body respond. Anticipation clenched tight at the base of my spine, and heat pounded through my cock.
Shifting so I could smooth a hand along the outside of her toned thigh, I caught hold of her hip and guided her to flip over so she was on her stomach. She made an alarmed sound and turned to look at me questioningly over her shoulder. I tugged her hips up so she was on her hands and knees in front of me, and I nearly lost it at the overtly sexy sight she made.
Gruffly I told her, “Keep touching yourself.” It was hard to get words out when all the blood in my body felt like it had shot to my dick.
She made a little sound of embarrassment but did as I ordered. She braced herself on one hand and let her head fall forward so that her face was hidden by her long, reddish hair. I put my hand on the elegant line of her spine and dragged it down to the small of her back. I repeated the motion until I felt some of the tension leave her body. Soon, the slick sound of her fingers touching all the delicate, hidden parts of her body whispered through the room.
Using my thumb to press the base of my erection down, I lined myself up with her heated and damp opening. My fingers dug into the curve of her hips as I pressed myself into her body. She moved her fingers so she was touching the tiny bud of pleasure hidden within her velvety folds. We both moaned long and loud once I was fully seated inside of her. The backs of her fingers brushed erotically along my cock as I started to thrust.
I closed my eyes and swore when I felt her body clench around mine, surrounding me in liquid heat and warmth. We fit together like we were made to do this with one another. Inside of her was quickly becoming my favorite place to be. When Presley started to press back against me, when she started to move in tandem to my thrusts, I quickly lost any kind of rhythm and started pounding into her in a totally uncivilized way. It was a good thing she was vocal about how much she enjoyed the increasingly rough handling; otherwise, I would’ve worried it was all too much for her to do anything about.
The sound of our bodies colliding was incredibly satisfying. The faster I moved, the more breathless and frantic she became. It wasn’t long before I was engulfed in the heated flood of her release. She gasped my name and fell forward, her forehead hitting the mattress as her body convulsed and throbbed languidly around mine. I kept moving, that coiled tension sitting low in my spine, slowly spreading outward as gratification lit my blood on fire. Once the last ounce of satisfaction and completion was drained from my body, I collapsed in a nearly boneless heap on top of her. She turned her head so I could drop a kiss on her lips, but the angle was awkward and I didn’t have full control of my limbs back yet.
It took a second to gather the strength required to roll off of her and onto my back. I blinked up at the dark ceiling and wondered if this was really it for me. If she was the one I would never get tired of. If she was the woman who I would never be able to get enough of.
The more time I spent with her, the more it felt like she might be.
I got up and made my way into her small bathroom so I could clean up. I gathered our discarded clothes from all over the floor and went back to her bedroom. I had things to do tonight that hadn’t included fighting and making up with Presley, but I was glad for the interruption. When I got back to her bedroom, she was already under the covers and appeared to be fast asleep. She did look tired when she came out of the shower, and I didn’t doubt going back to her stressful job was adding more stress to her already tension-filled days. I got dressed as quietly as I could and put a hand on the mattress so I could lean over her and press a kiss to her forehead. She made a soft sound and her rust-colored eyelashes fluttered, but her eyes didn’t open and she didn’t wake up.
I closed the door behind me when I left her room. I also found a Sharpie in her junk drawer and a crinkled envelope, so I could leave her a quick note. I apologized for having to leave and told her I didn’t want to wake her up. It wasn’t the first time I’d had to bail in the middle of the night, and it wouldn’t be the last. Luckily, she seemed to be understanding of the situation and understood I didn’t keep banker’s hours.
When I hit the parking lot, Digger, the young prospect who had just gotten out of the Army and moved to Texas, gave me a nod and sat up straighter on the vintage bike he was lounging on. So far most of the brothers had been cool enough about keeping an eye on Presley when I was unable to. I’d managed to give the task to prospective members and newer guys so I didn’t ruffle too many feathers. I wouldn’t entrust Presley’s safety to anyone I didn’t believe fully capable.
“I have to head back to the clubhouse.” Top had taken a call concerning a businessman missing in Colombia, and whether or not we were making a trip into cocaine country, which was crawling with guerrilla soldiers. His family was desperate to get him back, his business rival was ready to counteroffer to make sure he stayed gone. Taking either job was up for a vote. I needed to be there to moderate the discussion and to weigh the pros and cons of accepting either offer. “I’ll make sure you have a replacement here by the time she has to leave for work in the morning. If anything seems even slightly off, I don’t care what it is, you check it out. The locks on her apartment are garbage. If you need to get inside, do what you have to do.”
I’d offered to change them out for her, but Presley kept telling me she would take care of it herself when she had time. I would’ve done it without her permission
and for my own peace of mind, but I did my best to observe those boundaries she was so fond of when it came to something simple.
The kid nodded and assured me he knew the drill. I patted him on the shoulder and climbed on my bike. The clubhouse was a solid hour outside of Loveless, so the sun was going to be coming up by the time I finally made it to bed. Not a situation I was unused to, but I was getting older, and pulling an all-nighter didn’t hold the same kind of appeal it used to.
I was just getting into the backcountry where the hills started rolling and dipping, requiring more concentration and effort as I rode when I came across a stranded motorist. At first, I didn’t think anything of it. This area was remote, and it wasn’t too uncommon to find a car broken down and abandoned by the driver. Only this car wasn’t abandoned, which immediately had every instinct I possessed on high alert.
The hood of the small, red two-door was open and a cloud of white smoke was billowing upward toward the night sky. There was a young woman leaning against the side of the car, looking completely distraught. She was waving her arms frantically in my direction, and I had a feeling if I didn’t stop she was going to run out in the middle of the road and try and force me.
Swearing under my breath, I pulled my bike to the shoulder of the road, the weight of the weapon I was never without heavy against the small of my back as bits and pieces of this particular scenario started to click into place. I rested the bike on its kickstand and climbed off. The woman hurried over to me, red hair flying behind her and green eyes wide and pleading.
I’d seen enough pictures of Ashby Grant to know what she really looked like. She was a stunning woman, blond and blue-eyed, and built in all the right places. It was no guess how she managed to get what she wanted from men. This woman didn’t look anything like the pictures. No, this woman was supposed to look like the centerfold version of Presley. All the best parts of Presley were overdone and made bigger and brighter. This woman was meant to stop traffic and catch the eye. It was as if she was tailor-made to fit my exact type in a way that was impossible to ignore. I had to hand it to Presley’s former friend, she definitely knew how to hide in plain sight.
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