Diamonds: Motorcycle Club Romance (Savage Saints MC Book 8)

by Hazel Parker

  But if all went right with Jenna, I might just take care of that.

  And funny thing was, with her, I didn’t even want to think of it as getting laid. I just wanted to think of it as fulfilling a fantasy—a fantasy borne out of a real, actual connection.

  * * *

  I got home around ten. It was still incredibly early by Las Vegas standards. Some on the Strip were still eating dinner, preparing to head to their card game, club, or gathering of choice.

  But for me, there was nothing else in the night to build to. What I was doing here was all I cared about. I had about ten minutes until Jenna Saunders showed up, and I spent just about every moment of it trying to make sure it was all perfect.

  First, despite the move seeming to go against my ultimate wishes, I threw on a white shirt to wear under my cut. It was just an undershirt, the kind of thing men in business suits wore to prevent sweat stains from crowding in, but it at least made me look like a normal human being.

  Next, I must have cleaned that apartment from the front door to the window so thoroughly that you would have thought that it was a scientific laboratory. I kept my place clean in general, and it wasn’t like Jenna had never been inside before, but for obvious reasons, I wanted her to be blown away.

  After that, it was just the waiting game.

  It was one of the few games I didn’t particularly enjoy winning. It was a game that, the more you tried to “win,” the less you enjoyed it. Thinking that you could win it wasn’t possible, but the very nature of the game encouraged you to think you could win.

  Needless to say, when she still hadn’t shown up at ten-thirty, I checked my phone. The last I’d heard from her was at about nine-fifty, saying that she was on her way. But that should have given her plenty of time to come here. Even if she was coming from the furthest tip of North Las Vegas, she shouldn’t have needed that long.

  I went through my fridge. I thought of putting a couple of wine glasses out. But no, she had come on the pretense of discussing the case. Talk about things that would look out of place, would look disrespectful to the memory of Danica.

  What the hell are you doing? This is so unlike you. You never give two shits about how your place looks for girls, let alone any one girl.

  Get it together, Dom. You barely know this girl. You’ve never even kissed her. You’ve talked to her like five times.

  Yeah, fat chance I’ll just listen to that and move on.

  My phone buzzed. I immediately hurried over, grabbing it and checking.

  “Just parked in guest parking. Floor twenty-one, right?”

  “Yes,” I wrote back as quickly as I could.

  I did one last check of the room. I rearranged some of the pillows on the couch, straightened Pork’s mail he’d left out, and made sure everything else was properly set up. I took a deep breath.

  And then I realized it wasn’t like she was on the other side of the door. She still would take another couple of minutes to get up.

  I quickly found a bottle of vodka, took a swig from it, and then popped a breath mint. Hopefully, that kicked in at the right time. Hopefully—

  A knock came at the door. Showtime, boss. Do what you always do.

  I went to the door, adopted my usual suggestive smirk, and opened the door.

  Well, the good news was, it was definitely Jenna at the front door.

  The bad news was, if she was dressed for sex, she, uh, wasn’t really. She had on jeans, flats, and a plain red t-shirt. There was nothing about her that oozed sexuality or said: “tear me off.” Perhaps she had taken me a little too literally.

  “Oh, hey, Jenna,” I said, forcing the smirk to remain in place. “Come on in. Take a, uh, seat on the couch?”

  It could be anything. Maybe that’s how she was dressed, man. Don’t rush it.

  “My pleasure,” she said, but she said it in a very normal voice. There wasn’t anything about her that led me to believe she was being seductive. “What did you want to talk about in regard to the case?”

  Shit. She probably did take me literally.

  I waited until we were both seated. I crossed my legs and sat facing toward her, while she sat with her legs tucked under her, facing toward me. She looked so goddamn pretty with her jet-black hair falling over the shoulder closest to the couch. How I wanted to brush that hair aside, kiss her pretty little neck, and then start kissing her elsewhere. How…

  “I wanted to know how you felt about it? How did you respond to it?”

  “Hmm.”

  I wondered if she was contemplating if my question was stupid because I was serious or stupid because I was still keeping the pretense going in private—and it really couldn’t get much more private than this.

  “I was a little hurt by it,” she said. “Mostly because of how stupid I was to leave my gun out. But I feel vindicated. And I feel glad that Scar has met his end.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  A brief smile came over both our mouths as we each waited for the other. It honestly felt like I’d been transported back fifteen years in time. I was a player not just because of my good looks and smile, but also because I knew how to verbally seduce just about anyone. I could have looked like Pork, and I still would have gotten a good number of girls.

  “What about you? Have you moved forward?”

  I don’t know why this came to mind in this intense moment, but her words prompted me to do something that I had never done before.

  I took a page from Pork’s playbook.

  I scooted forward.

  “Like that?” I said.

  She giggled and snorted. It also helped me get close enough that I could now touch her legs with ease.

  “No, but seriously. Have you moved forward?”

  The laughter faded. My smile faded. The honest truth?

  “I don’t know that I’ll ever move forward.”

  I hated it as soon as I said it. I had meant that I could never move on enough to completely forget Danica. Jenna had to know that. But the way it came out made it sound like I would never move on from liking Danica and never be able to love again.

  That was the position I’d put myself in, yes, but it wasn’t the one that I believed I would be going forward.

  And then Jenna put her hand on my knee.

  Chapter 12: Jenna

  I’d never seen Dom look so wounded and so honest as when he said he never thought he’d move past Danica.

  I couldn’t imagine having loved someone so much that their death stuck with me ten years later. What kind of a place did she have in his heart that she was still there after all this time? Granted, it didn’t prevent him from going for other girls, but it was a very different kind of going for girls—like a man whose dog had died filling the void by going to an animal shelter, but not actually adopting any of the dogs.

  I couldn’t relate to his pain because I’d never had anything approximating it. But the visibility of it and the tenderness of it led me to want to comfort him.

  It was only after I’d made contact with his skin and looked into his eyes that those feelings of sexual tension came rushing back. Granted, they’d only vanished for a few moments there; I’d thought Dom wanting to talk about the case was code for sex, and when he hadn’t immediately made a move, I thought that he might have been serious. But now…

  “It’s OK, Dom,” I said. “You loved her.”

  “I did,” he said, taking a deep breath. I must have energized him, because the smile started to form.

  But it wasn’t the “I’m going to fuck you and enjoy it” smirk. It was a different kind of smile, a beautiful, more appreciative one. It was hard to describe the difference, but the former was meant to arouse; this was meant to admire.

  “Dom,” I said, excitement just simmering beneath the surface. “What, exactly, did you mean when you said you wanted to talk about the case?”

  I expected him to lean forward, kiss me, to make some comment after the fact about how he wanted to show rather than tell me how
he felt about me. But instead—somehow missing the point, or perhaps nervously dancing around it—he answered literally.

  “I, uh…”

  “You said you wanted to know how I felt,” I said, pushing him a bit. “I told you. You said you’re not sure if you’re capable of loving again. Well, do you feel like that could ever change?”

  “You know, I didn’t use to think so. I had my doubts. But now, I do.”

  “Really,” I said, already knowing the answer to the question I was about to ask. “What changed?”

  He opened his mouth, shut it when he saw my eyes widened, and slowly took my hand in his. He wrapped his fingers around mine and then took his other hand and put it to my face. I felt a hot rush to my cheek that belied the cool temperature Dom apparently liked his apartment to be.

  Slowly, very slow, Dom moved forward, his eyes unwavering, his lips slightly puckered forward, and his body magnetically drawn to mine. The fires of passion began igniting in my stomach, tension built in my groin, and my mouth went dry with excitement.

  And then he kissed me.

  It was a tender kiss at first. I began to think he hadn’t kissed anyone like this since… her. It was nervous at first, almost a grazing kiss more than a kiss that went fully in. I let him ease his way into it, but after a few seconds of dancing around me, I just reached for his head and pulled him closer into me.

  That was the cue he needed to keep going. Now, instead of grazing, his lips were fully on mine. Instead of keeping his body back, away from mine, he came up onto me, and we slid from upright positions to lying down on the couch. He was on top of me, and I wrapped my legs around him.

  Oh, God, this was so wrong, but that was only because of our respective jobs. Nothing else about this was wrong. It may have been wrong in the days before, but we were on the same side now. If you had no idea what our jobs were, you would have put us together already.

  He kissed my neck. I arched my hips into him and extended my head away, writhing in the pleasure wrought by the placement of his lips. My hands dug at the back of his hair, running through and scratching.

  “Fuck, Dom,” I said.

  He continued to the other side of my neck. My hips were now aggressively going after his. I wished I’d worn something a little lower-cut so he could brush it aside and go for my breasts, but public appearances still had to be maintained.

  I sat back a bit, reached down to the bottom of my shirt, and tore it off, leaving me just with my bra on. Dom, seeing my move, reached behind me and had that off. He went for my right breast first, lowering his lips around and gently sucking. His tongue then flicked and danced over my nipple.

  I tried to reach down and feel his cock. I wanted to give him the same pleasure that he was giving me. But our positioning was just that I wasn’t quite able to reach.

  Dom didn’t seem like he was in any hurry to let me please him, either. It was like he wanted to make sure I got off first before he got anything in return. It definitely wasn’t what I had expected, but it wasn’t something that I was going to argue with, either.

  Once Dom had treated the left breast as he had the right, he came back up and planted a gentle kiss on me. I reached for his cut and his shirt, removing both of them. When I saw his rippled abs and his tight, tattooed body upright before me… I’d felt it all in the previous couple of minutes of pleasure, but to see it was a sight to behold.

  “Oh my God,” I breathlessly said.

  Dom just smiled at me, went back to me, and unbuttoned my jeans when he got down to my belly button.

  There was just something so real about this moment that had the butterflies in my stomach moving at hurricane speeds. I was far from a virgin, but it wasn’t every day that a man willingly and eagerly started to go down on me as Dom was. It also wasn’t every day that I ran into someone with the background like Dom and I had. I sure couldn’t think of anyone else.

  And, on top of it all, he was just so damn handsome.

  He had me down to just my panties, but that felt like defending the castle with a washcloth. I didn’t even want this castle defended—I wanted him to storm it and claim it as his own. I already had my hand down there, removing them for him. He came to my aid, pushed my legs up, and started kissing my toes.

  “Oh, Dom,” I murmured.

  He held my feet up and kissed them, his fingers sliding down my calves, my knees, my thighs, and right to my groin. He barely brushed over my folds, but even that very simple act was enough to make me jolt in surprise.

  “Touchy-feely, are we?” he said.

  “Oh, it feels so fucking good,” I gasped out.

  Dom just chuckled quietly, again brushing his fingers over me. I swore, the build-up and the tension was even better than the actual—

  I took that back.

  He put two fingers in me, and all of the pleasure coursing through me immediately dismissed the previous idea as ridiculous. The build-up, better than the real thing? Please!

  “Please, Dom, please,” I begged, urging him on to move his fingers faster.

  But Dom was in no rush. He took his sweet time stroking and fingering, moving at a casual pace. I tossed my head back, gasping for air.

  “Dom, yes, Dom,” I said.

  I wanted to kiss him again. There was obviously no way I could do that right now, least of all because I was under his control and completely unable to sit up from this position, but goddamn I wanted a piece of his lips. I wanted him inside me, and I didn’t mean his fingers. I wanted so much more than I was getting right now.

  Then, out of nowhere, with no warning or buildup, his fingers aggressively picked up speed, now going full bore. I let out a surprised cry, but the result was kind of genius—Dom had built up tension in me very slowly, and then, with the moment of release visible, he’d suddenly sprinted toward the finish line, like a marathon runner sprinting the last fifth of a mile.

  “Fuck, Dom, fuck, fuck!”

  I bit my lip, closed my eyes, tensed my entire body, and then squeezed my thighs around Dom’s legs when the rush of release hit. I quivered and clenched over his fingers, my chest heaving and my stomach rapidly rising and falling with the quick breathing. I eventually had to push his fingers away because they were almost too good. Dom took half a step back, smiling at me.

  “That feel good?”

  “Oh my God,” I said, laughing. “Yes, it felt good! Did you really need to ask?”

  “Just making sure,” Dom said. “Wanted you to come first.”

  You don’t tell this to other girls, do you? You just go in, thrust until you come, and then move on, don’t you?

  “You’re sweet,” I said, still giggling and glowing from the orgasm.

  I sat up, brought his lips to mine, and parted them with my tongue. My wet pussy pushed against his jeans, a problem that was blocking me from getting what I wanted. I tried to lean forward so that now he was on his back, but Dom resisted. He pushed me back down on my back, and I just surrendered, putting my hands behind my head and laughing as he went back to kissing my lips.

  “I know what you want,” he said. “And you’ll get it. But you’re going to be pleasured when it happens too.”

  “Oh, fuck, you’re too much,” I said with a laugh. “Just tell me what I can do so I can feel it.”

  “Get on your stomach and stick your ass up.”

  Now we’re fucking talking.

  I liked sweet and tender Dom. I liked unselfish Dom. But I was equally happy to see alpha, erotic Dom coming out.

  I pulled my legs in, went to my side, and then got on my stomach as I heard Dom removing his jeans. I wanted to look back as I wiggled my ass in the air, but I kind of liked this being a surprise. I tried to keep my expectations low, not out of disrespect to Dom, but more because it was going to be so hard to top what he had just done with his fingers.

  “I’m so horny, Dom,” I said. “I need you now.”

  “Hush,” he said. “You let me take control, and you’ll get more than you never
need.”

  Now this is a real man right here. I buried my head into the pillow in front of me as I felt his cock brush against the outside of my pussy. Of course, things could change when he got inside of me, but the early returns felt very stiff and very large. I felt like I was climbing to the top of the roller coaster, the climb having lasted far longer than anything else I’d ridden in my life—the build-up was insane, and I couldn’t even see how thrilling the descent was.

  “Dom,” I begged. “Please.”

  “One moment,” he said as I heard him putting a condom on.

  And then, seconds later, he didn’t just penetrate me.

  He filled me.

  Maybe the fact that my pussy had moved to the size of his two fingers helped him feel big, but it definitely took more than a little bit of time for him to get all the way in. This gradual acclimation, this gradual process of moving closer in and out, was a roller coaster ride in itself. He’d get an inch or so in, pull back out, push a little further, pull back out, and repeat. The tight grip he had on my hips was only a bonus to all of this.

  Much as he’d started by fingering me, he went slow at first, even when I’d expanded enough to accommodate his girth and size. There was something very sweet and tender about this nice pace. I looked back at him, watching his ab muscles flex as he went in and out, in and out, in and out. The glance allowed me to also see the Las Vegas Strip from the window, providing us all the lighting we’d ever need for this show of ours.

  But unlike with the fingering, when he had gone from zero to sixty in the span of a single pump, he picked up the pace more gradually right now. At one point, he grabbed my hair and pulled me back, and I thought he was just doing that for support.

  But then he reached forward, grabbed my chest, and pulled me all the way up. He kissed my neck. I turned and devoured his mouth from the side, a bit of a tough but a nevertheless incredibly erotic position. I fell back forward, and now Dom went full force at me, his right leg off the couch, his cock filling me, and my body shaking and quivering with erotic tingling.