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Resurfaced Passion (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Book 6)

Page 11

by V. Theia


  “Come and eat, Paige.” He said from the kitchen.

  With water bottles from the fridge next to the food, she climbed onto the stool beside him.

  “How’s your head?” He worryingly looked worse than he’d been an hour ago. Frowning, she wanted to soothe that line in his forehead so bad.

  “Still attached,” he half smiled. She lit up and patted his forearm. He stiffened and Paige pulled her hand back. God, she could never tell with his mixed signals what he wanted from her.

  Pushing it out of her head, she concentrated on opening the burger box he put in front of her, with a package of crispy fries, pushing three into her mouth.

  Reaper watched her, licking his lower lip. Eyes hooded.

  “Aren’t you eating?”

  “Yeah,” he affirmed quietly, turning to his own food. She watched him eat sometimes, in the diner. He was so precise even as he ate like men do taking giant bites. He used a napkin to wipe his fingers and mouth and most often she forced herself to stop watching him because his mouth did things to her.

  Sexy, dirty things. Tingly, swoony, dirty things.

  That mouth made her want things.

  He’d ordered her a spicy chicken burger with relish sauce. Huh? How did he know it was her favorite? She couldn’t recall ever telling him. When she popped the burger bun up to check its assembly, she smiled. It had extra pickles, so many pickles she licked her lips … right then Reaper lifted the pickles off his burger and tossed them onto hers.

  She took a giant bite too and moaned. It was so good. But Paige couldn’t recall ever telling Reaper of her pickle love either. Good guess, she supposed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Just call me the cockblocking ambassador.” - Reaper

  “I should go.”

  “No.”

  “I think you scared Newton enough he won’t bother trying to see me again, Reaper.” She told him with her breath brushing against his shoulder.

  “Newton,” he muttered with a derisive smirk. “Pussy fucking name for a pussy guy.”

  She giggled, nudging his arm with hers.

  He didn’t know at what portion of the night she ended up curled against his whole right side of his body on the couch, she’d started at the other end and slowly she’d moved across and Reaper wasn’t hating it. In fact he’d started drawing patterns on the back of her hand an hour ago while they watched some crap TV she loved, and now that hand was on his thigh.

  Total fucking tortured bliss.

  He was in agony wanting to drag her into his lap and devour her. What fucking siren fragrance was she wearing? Whatever it was affected his dick because he’d been throbbing for hours and couldn’t even reach down to adjust his cock for comfort.

  Unable to mention her date yet. But it was coming. Just not while he was still feeling murderous pain caving in the middle of his chest, replaying that whole scene behind his eyelids. As mad as he’d been seeing her with another guy—and make no mistake, Reaper wanted to put her over his lap to spank her raw against dating ever again. Not to mention how dumb it was to meet a fucking stranger like that who’d scared her.

  He got it. Paige only wanted what all women did; to be wanted, needed, loved.

  And if he were in any way a decent man—a less possessive man, he would let her find someone who could give her those things.

  But he wasn’t. He was fucking obsessed with keeping her, even being trapped in the same moment unable to do anything about it, he couldn’t dampen the rage of ownership.

  He was so damn screwed up inside.

  If he made a move on her everything could change.

  She could hate him.

  But the compulsion felt like bile in his throat.

  Some emotions were compelling.

  He’d always told himself it was better to have half of Paige than none at all.

  He accepted it… most days.

  Tonight? Not so much, not when his tongue ached to lick the side of her neck she was exposing to him.

  “Hey?” She jostled him and he looked her way. “You’re quiet. What’s up?”

  God, her face. Her beautiful face made him happy. Tortured him.

  And all the words fell out of his mouth like vomit. “I don’t want you going on anymore dates.”

  Her mouth made an O shape then snapped closed.

  “What if that fucking guy had dragged you off to his crappy Prius? You’re like a hundred pounds dripping wet, he could have shoved you in his trunk no problem.”

  “Jesus, Reaper, don’t exaggerate.” She laughed. “Firstly, I’m one-twenty-one, but thanks. And he was a teacher! Teacher’s don’t kidnap women for nefarious reasons. He’s not a pirate, they’re too busy with glue and glitter. And we don’t know he had a Prius.”

  Reaper’s back teeth ached. She was so sweetly gullible and trusting. He could tell her some shit to curl her hair about untrustworthy characters. “He had a Prius, all pricks have Prius’, Paige.”

  “I’m sorry for bothering you, okay? You were the first person I thought of to call. I couldn’t worry Winter.”

  Okay, fuck. Now she really had him wanting to drag her into his lap and spank her little ass. He shifted on the couch to fully face her and watched her chew on her lip like she thought he was really put out by helping her.

  She had no clue she could bother him all day and night and he’d love it.

  He’d fix all her problems like it was his privilege.

  “You call me, you hear?” She chewed and nodded. “Though, now you’re not dating we won’t have this situation again.” He said with some bite to his tone.

  “Why aren’t I dating again?”

  “Because we decided.”

  “Eh… I think that was all you, buddy.”

  Buddy. Fuck. Kill him now.

  “Nah, I’m pretty sure it was a collective decision.”

  She giggled, gave him her eyes for the longest minute, her laugh drifted away, she chewed harder on her lip before glancing back to the TV.

  The atmosphere changed in seconds.

  He wasn’t gonna survive with her looking at him that way. Not with his full-mast cock aching for him to undo the zipper and pull it free. He’d give anything to put his fingers...his cock inside her. He wanted to put her on a tall counter and lick her until she came down his throat.

  “Paige? Look me in the eye.”

  “I am,” she insisted with a turn of her head, but he could see her focus was scattered. Her gaze went from his chest, to his neck, up over his hair, but never reached his face.

  “You’re not. Look at me, Paige.”

  “Reaper…” it came out breathy and it stroked every inch of his cock. She wet her lips with a fast lick and lifted her head. Those eyes that saw but didn’t see him—haunted him.

  “Don’t date.” He rasped. Please, fuck.

  “Why not? Can you tell me why, Reaper?”

  Fuck. Fuck. Motherfuck. “Because I don’t want to worry about some asshole hurting you.”

  She made a humming sound. “Now tell me the truth.”

  He grumbled and fed her a version of the truth. “Can you trust that I’m thinking only of you and your safety?”

  He witnessed her eyes turn flat. She nodded. And said no more.

  * * *

  “Take them!” She said forcefully and added a foot stomp to show she meant business. If he grunted at her once more she was gonna smack him upside his stupid handsome head that was probably killing him with the pain she could see on his rigid features. “I’ve watched you for two hours. You’re in agony, Reaper, take your damn pills right now or I’ll kick your ass.”

  Paige followed him into the kitchen minutes ago and cringed when he bent over the sink and groaned with a hand clawed into the back of his head.

  Her heart constricted and then she got really mad, as a woman tended to do when she was worried.

  “Do you have a migraine aura?”

  He grumbled and crossed arms over his chest, his butt rest
ing on the sink unit.

  God save her from a man who wouldn’t take care of himself.

  Their tentative stare-off was intense …with both of his eyelids hanging at half-mast, kinda sleepy, the type of look she’d grown to love because it meant he noticed her.

  And who wouldn’t want to be noticed by a man like Reaper?

  She desired all his secrets and all his answers to questions she’d yet to ask him, but as she moved across the floor and saw him inhale longer than usual, she knew she couldn’t thrash him for being a stubborn man. Not when he was in agony.

  Not when she was falling hopelessly in love with him either.

  She wondered, unable to draw her gaze away, had she always been in love with this man from day one or had it snuck up on her right this minute? It felt altogether overpowering love.

  “Will you stay?” He murmured. “If I take the damn pills, will you stay so I don’t worry?”

  The fact that he was admitting he worried for her shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. It was already after midnight, she figured she’d crash on his couch anyway. “Yes, now please, take them so I don’t have to pick you up off the floor when you keel over.”

  He gave her a half grin and fetched a pill bottle out of the cabinet above her head. Putting him in smelling and touching distance, with his rock-hard chest almost pressed into her nose. Oh, my. Paige held her breath as he watched her when he threw pills into his mouth and swallowed.

  Instead of moving, his beautiful arms caged her in, one either side of her on the front of the refrigerator.

  Their bodies a breath apart.

  His exhaled air stroked her cheek.

  “Better?”

  All words vacated the building, her head bobbed up and down.

  Against her cheek he said. “You can take my bed.” Was his voice silkier?

  “I can…” butterflies attacked her belly and she had to take a second stab at speaking. “I can take the couch, it’s fine. I can sleep anywhere.”

  “My bed, Paige.”

  Oh, god. Oh, god.

  His powerful scrutiny whispered of things still to come and it made Paige’s fine hairs stand on end. Scared? Excited? A lot of both. It was proven when he gave her the most heated look she might ever see in this lifetime and her belly did a series of flops. Scared, oh yeah, but the excitement was forefront, urging her on.

  It also made her jump in with both feet without knowing if he’d be there to catch her or watch her fall on her butt.

  Another calming, yet very discreet breath, and she schooled her face into a soft smile.

  Paige felt like the queen of awkward and unsmooth most of the time but couldn’t help the little whimper drifting out of her lips when he moved, placing his hands on her hip bones and squeezed with his two big hands.

  It felt so good.

  Tonight, she was Paige Simmons, wildcat. I will be bold, I will be confident, I will be irresistible. Hear me roar!

  Without knowing she was going to do it, she stretched up onto her toes and she cupped her hands behind his neck and started to rub him there, hoping to alleviate his pain. Reaper let go of a giant groan and arched into her further, so she dug the pads of her fingertips in harder. She wasn’t sure who swayed, but she felt the floor move under her.

  “Poor boy,” she murmured. “I don’t like you hurting.”

  He looked so sleepy, so tired, pain hanging behind his eyes as he let his head hang low so as to look deep in her eyes and all Paige wanted to do was love him, take care of him, give him something he hadn’t had in a long time.

  How was this man so freaking hot?

  It was Paige who kissed him first, with his mouth there in lunging distance, she pressed her closed lips to his closed lips and held them there.

  The low-level feeling in her stomach that might have been fear, but most probably was desire bubbling up kept her right there, lip to lip and in seconds it was Reaper’s hands pulling her in, making her go up on her tiptoes as he turned it into a full-on kiss. Her mind danced with memories of their first kiss, sending her pulse into a gallop because this one was even hotter when his tongue swirled around hers and captured it for his own.

  She wanted to experience his brand of kissing over and over until her lungs protested.

  And a whole lot more, that was far dirtier.

  The rough, hungry noises emitted from low down in his throat hyped her up until she felt the only way she could cope was to kiss him harder. Her tongue in his mouth was hell bent on consuming him whatever way she could.

  He filled her up, every breath he pushed into her lips, closed the gaps she’d felt raw and gaping within herself for years. Reaper’s perfect mouth filled them with dirty, tangible desire while he thrusted his tongue, claiming her mouth. Déjà vu clawed at the crevices in her head. Desire consumed her.

  His taste flooded through her system, touching sensitive nerve endings, restarting her heart a million times over, causing her to sway and Reaper clasped onto her waist with his two massive hands. His head hauled up a breath away and that sand-roughened voice rolled against her cheek, his mouth stayed connected to her skin. “Did I do wrong?”

  “God. No.” she flushed, her cheeks becoming a million degrees hotter. “It was… it was really nice, Reaper.”

  It was perfect.

  It must have been what he wanted to hear, because in the next second, Reaper’s hands were on the back of her thighs, lifting her into the air. It was an immediate knee-jerk reaction to wind her legs around his hips and hold on tight as he walked them through to the living room and he fell onto the couch with her.

  His mouth on her neck. Sucking.

  * * *

  Catching his own reflection in the bathroom mirror almost felt like an accusation looking back at him when he saw the ladybug tattoo among dozens of other inks on his torso. It always stood out, but more so tonight and his heart ached and yet was full at the same time.

  He fingered the design, remembered the day he got it and how in love with it she was.

  “Reaper, you okay in there?” He heard from the other room and he let his shirt move back into place to cover the tattoo. He’d needed a second to breathe after that powerful kiss, but he’d been in the bathroom too long.

  Strange that he felt guilty.

  But then, he thought, nothing had felt normal for a long time anyway.

  * * *

  A devious expression crossed his face, daring her to stop her wanting hands tracing the edge of his shirt, almost grazing his crotch. Reaper’s mouth parted and the gravel in his sleep heavy voice stirred her to greater heights when he said. “Don’t stop now, Paige. Touch me, grab me, make it do what you need from it.”

  His cock. He was talking about his cock and Paige suddenly became dizzy.

  Some heavy petting for the last thirty minutes had suddenly turned into …more.

  She didn’t think twice, just moved her fingers, pulled down the waist of his sweatpants, slid into his boxer briefs and let his formidable cock spring free into her fingers.

  Paige was never taken to the vapors, but she could so easily dive into a swoon right there because he was spectacular.

  Big and beautiful. The most satisfying cock she’d ever felt in her whole life.

  His hands pushed the sweats down further, so they caught under his hanging sac, giving her so much more room to explore him. She gave him a grateful stroke.

  Had she known he was housing a natural disaster sized cock in those track pants she might have limbered up her fingers first with digit-yoga ... hell, she just went for it, even when she couldn’t get her fingers to meet her thumb on the other side, she grasped and got to know the pulsing length intimately.

  His ruptured grunt was all the encouragement she needed to take bolder strokes over the seeping slit, brushing the creamy liquid around until he shunted his hips forward into her hand.

  Is that what he wanted, to fuck her hands? She brought both up and surrounded him, one underneath the other. God, he
was so warm, she couldn’t help squeezing the thick shaft.

  He emitted a hoarse “fuck” and then threw his hips forward again, this time his cock drove through all of her fingers until it almost poked her in the face.

  She was so wet, if she still had panties left by the end it would be a miracle. Slick pleasure sliced through her stomach and throbbed between her legs and when he next fucked her hands she leaned her head down to capture a lick of his emerging tip.

  He hissed.

  Just as shocked she’d done that. She moaned at the salty taste and wanted more.

  It was easy to take him into her mouth on the next set of thrusts, this time she stopped his movement by tightening her hands on the base of him so she could fit the leaking crown between her lips.

  The feel and taste made her lightheaded, she fixed her lips around him so hard that his noises and her hums mingled as one song.

  When she resurfaced from her haze she caught his garble words.

  “Jesus. Fuck. Paige. God. Fuck. Don’t suck so hard if you don’t want me to pour down your throat.”

  She did want his pleasure, she wanted every last pulse of pleasure ripped out of Reaper, knowing it was her who was giving it to him.

  Go on, his hand on the side of her face silently urged. He was so gentle stroking the skin with his thumb that the motion lulled her while she lapped the plump head.

  “I feel like I’m dreaming, Paige. Seeing my cock sinking into your mouth, it feels so fucking incredible, baby.”

  Baby. She lit up inside and moved her lips to take more of his cock. She was only halfway and already felt him prodding her stomach lining.

  So big, so full and he was letting her play with him. She was the one who was dreaming.

  His last sigh was so pensive it made her head bob faster, using the fullness of her hands she stimulated the rest of his cock she couldn’t fit between her lips, already they ached but hell could rain down from the sky and it wouldn’t stop Paige from sucking.

 

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