by Romi Hart
“Trust me, it’s in the interest of the entire club to pull this off without a hitch. It’s the only way we could be considered a crooked club, but it’s the least of the evils that are out there. And we’re damn good at it on the rare occasion we need to be.”
Skye should have been repulsed, but the statement was actually fairly reassuring. How things had changed, including her own personal perspective, in the last few months. In New York, she’d been horrified by the stunts her ex and his crew had pulled to keep themselves out of trouble. And she’d carried that distaste with her through her move here and certainly hadn’t changed her mind about it when he’d shown up at the club for her.
But of one thing she was certain. Harrison may not be perfect, and sometimes he was pushy and misogynistic. He made mistakes, he was gruff, he had a violent streak, and he tended to drink too much, especially when he got emotional. But he was honest to a fault, and he had good intentions. On top of that, the Devil’s Flames had proven to be an above board crew that didn’t run drugs or break the law just for the hell of it. So, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that she put her trust in them, and especially in Harrison.
They pulled up in front of his house, and she noted how slow he was moving as they ambled toward the door. He was tired, barely able to carry himself, and she wouldn’t be surprised to find that he was sore from the exertion of his violent outburst last night, followed by the accident and the adrenaline rush as he tried to take Jay down. He’d been through a lot, and he’d either slept on a metal shelf in that cage overnight or had sat up and not slept at all. He was in rough shape and needed a good soak in the tub with steaming hot water and some essential oils. She wished like hell she’d listened to Rory and bought some yesterday. They would have still been in her purse.
But she was at least going to insist he take a nice, hot bath. She could set up the breakfast, as soon as it was delivered, while he soaked, and then she could shower after they ate. Then, if he hadn’t fallen asleep, she’d tell him the truth that she’d tried to share with him twice, only to be interrupted by disaster. And if he was asleep, she would wait, in his house, until he woke up, and then she’d address the issue. Because she wasn’t going to wait any longer, or risk going somewhere they would be interrupted again.
Inside, she looked around, noticing this time that it was very bachelor minimalist chic, as if he’d hired someone to decorate it three or four years ago and hadn’t spent much time here since. It was tasteful but said nothing about the man he was. She didn’t linger on it. Instead, she told him, “Breakfast will be here in a few minutes. If you’ll start the coffee, I’ll run you a hot bath. You need to warm your bones.”
“I’m fine. I’ll just take a shower,” he told her.
“No, Harrison. Your body needs more than that. I’m watching you, and you’re not yourself,” Skye told him. He started to say something, probably another denial, but she held up a hand, heading toward the bathroom. “Don’t argue with me. Either you take a bath, or I’m going to call Rory and have her come over to force you through some yoga and meditation.”
“Masochist,” she heard him mutter as he slammed the coffee pot around in the kitchen. She smiled to herself and started the water, testing it with her wrist and adjusting the tap and temperature. She plugged the basin and poured in some musky shampoo, letting it bubble up, and waited.
Harrison arrived and stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “Bubbles? Really?”
She quirked a brow at him. “Forcible relaxation. You can deal with it. Breathe in the fumes, lean back, and let it soak into your bones. Now,” she said, turning off the tap and stepping away from the tub, “climb in or I’m calling Rory. Do you really want to bother a pregnant woman on her day off?”
Harrison rolled his eyes and shrugged his cut off, tossing it aside. “Okay, lay off the guilt trip. I’m getting in.”
He drew his shirt over his head, and Skye gulped at the sight of his chiseled chest. She had to vacate the bathroom, or they would be completely indisposed when the delivery came. And she was starving, so she certainly didn’t want to miss it. Walking swiftly so that her ruined heels clicked on the floor, she left the bathroom, clearing her throat and checking that the coffee was brewing.
The sexual chemistry was so thick, and Skye couldn’t let it override her need to address the emotional side. She had to tell Harrison how she felt. The doorbell rang, and she answered, politely smiling at the young man whose tongue got tied as he tried to keep his eyes focused on her face. He managed to only glance down at her breasts once, so she tipped him well and shut the door gently, even though she wanted to slam it and run to the kitchen to get the food out. She was absolutely ravenous, and she didn’t know if she’d be able to wait for Harrison to get out and get dressed before she ate.
She tried to be patient, laying out the spread of pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, biscuits, and gravy. She poured the coffee, remembering that Harrison had his black at the club the previous evening and leaving his untreated while she dug around for cream and sugar. She had to settle for milk, but that was okay because he had an entire drawer full of sweetener. She doctored hers up slowly, trying to buy time, and thankfully, Harrison was apparently as impatient with the bath as she was to eat. He came padding out, towel slung low on his waist, looking like a sculpture, and she knew her jaw went slack.
“I’m starving, and I’m going crazy sitting in the tub doing nothing. Are we ready to eat?” He sounded far more invigorated. Skye wished she’d gotten a shower or bath, if it worked that well to replenish energy. And she couldn’t ignore the pinkish glow to his skin from the heat of the water that only enhanced every chiseled muscle and the strength he carried in each of them. They rippled with his movement, his biceps and pecs flexing as he ran his hands through his wet hair and then rubbed together in anticipation of a hearty meal.
Skye could think of a meal she’d like to have but forced herself to remember her growling stomach and behave, for now. She had other motives, much more important than her libido. She motioned toward the spread between them on the table. “Dig in.” She proceeded to hand him a plate and take one for herself, not waiting for him to grab the utensils before serving herself. “Ladies first,” she muttered as she piled her plate high.
He snorted and slid into his chair, loading up his own dish. “A woman with an appetite.”
“I work it off,” she retorted, then felt her face flush as she thought about ways she could burn calories later, if all went well.
“I know. I’ve seen it for myself.” There was a growl in his voice that sent shivers down her spine and Skye had to glance at him. Harrison’s pupils were large as he watched her, and there was no mistaking the suggestion. It took everything in her not to crawl over the table and attack him right then and there.
But she was more civilized than that, she told herself, struggling to believe it. “I hope the bath and shower helped,” she said, changing the subject and trying not to picture his hands on his shaft, stroking as he cleansed himself.
“I feel much better, actually,” he told her around a mouthful of sausage and gravy. As he swallowed, he added, “As much as I hate baths, I appreciate you forcing me into it. It loosened me up enough that the shower was relaxing rather than a task. Thank you.”
She laughed. “Is this one of those rare ‘you were right’ moments we need to mark on the calendar?”
He rolled his eyes but smiled. “Shut up. I’m learning to be gracious.” Skye didn’t respond, only because she didn’t want to talk about him thanking her for bailing him out. Harrison would go back to the question of why she did it, and she wasn’t ready to have that conversation until her stomach was full and her body clean. She hadn’t even washed away the dried blood from her head, and she felt that sort of wound would prove too much a distraction for either of them. She already had the bruises on her face. She didn’t need to look entirely like a battered woman.
As she shoveled food into her mouth, Harrison se
emed to take the cue and do the same, silently devouring the meal. They both ate quickly and greedily, and it was a comfortable quiet between them, lacking the tension they’d had in the past. It was different, refreshing, and Skye liked it, as if they had discovered a place of camaraderie, finally. And now, more than ever, she could picture a future filled with moments like this between them. It made her stomach churn with desire, not in a physical sense, but in mental and emotional longing.
“Glad you ordered this,” Harrison yawned as he wiped his mouth and leaned back, stretching languorously. “I’m so stuffed I can barely stand myself. You sure know how to feed the demon.”
This time, she blushed, her mind going to more adult ideas of feeding the demon, and she averted her gaze, not wanting to discuss the arousal roiling inside. “I ordered for me. You just happened to benefit from it. Looks like we’re both ready to burst.” Her stomach felt sated, even if the rest of her was still hungry for Harrison. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to excuse myself to the shower.”
As she stood, her body heated under his intense gaze. “Help yourself. And feel free to take any t-shirt you want. There are a few dozen hanging in the closet.”
She nodded. He hung his t-shirts. That was something special, not to mention the sheer number of shirts she saw as she peered inside the closet. And it was organized by color. Damn, that alone made him a keeper. She withdrew a soft gray one and hurried to the bathroom, snatching a plush towel from the closet and locking the door behind her. She had a feeling she needed to enforce the privacy, for her own sake as much as Harrison’s. Sex in the shower was a fabulous thought, but she truly needed to get cleaned up first.
She looked at her reflection for the first, time, having ignored the mirror on purpose when she’d come in to run the bath for Harrison, and she winced. As much as her head throbbed, it looked worse. The knot was about two inches above her left eye, which was already swollen, and probably stuck out two inches. Everything was covered in blood, and it was so tender to the touch she knew she would have trouble getting it clean and out of her hair.
She stood under the hot spray with the wound stinging for quite some time, letting the blood rinse away before she even tried to scrub it. She clamped her lips shut to keep from crying out as she rubbed it hard with a rag and soap and again as she gingerly washed her hair. When it was done, she was glad to get out of the shower, feeling better about being clean but exhausted with the work she’d had to do to get there.
And she still had the most unnerving conversation ever to engage in with Harrison.
She searched the bathroom drawers, finding a brush she tugged through her locks, clearing the snags and knots, and then she reached into the zipper pouch in her purse and pulled out a clean thong she always kept, just in case. That turned out to be handy after all. Then, she pulled the soft cotton shirt over her head, hung her towel, and opened the door.
She gasped, finding Harrison looming there, hands pressed to the door frame so his body blocked her exit. He didn’t reach for her, but his neck bent, and his lips captured hers, igniting that still burning cinder in her belly into a full blown, raging bonfire. She kissed him back fervently, throwing herself into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and he released his hold on the doorframe, catching her by the backs of her thighs.
He stumbled backward into the corridor wall behind him and then turned toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss as their tongues tangled with desperate motions. Somewhere between the bathroom and the bed, his towel fell, revealing his erection at full mast, digging into her stomach and below until she couldn’t help but rub herself against it wantonly.
He grunted into her mouth, the bitterness of coffee and the tange of black pepper seasoning from gravy and sausage tinting his breath deliciously. She drank him in as they fell together without grace onto the bed. She rolled him to his back, suddenly invigorated, pressing her body to him as she ravaged his mouth.
But he seemed to need to be in control, lifting her from his body and practically throwing her onto her back as he loomed over her and pinned her to the bed, straddling her waist as he caught her lips again, this time with bruising force.
She latched on, digging her heels into the small of his back and raising her hips, grinding her pelvis against him so it crushed his cock between them, and he gasped, throwing his head back with his eyes rolling back in delight. With a growl, he leaned down, grabbing the hem of the gray t-shirt with his teeth and dragging it up her body, forcing her to shimmy out of it as he practically tore it over her head.
Tossing it aside, he found a new destination, latching onto her pert nipple and suckling, licking circles around it and teasing her until she arched and nearly flew off the bed in ecstasy. And yet, she knew it was just the beginning. Harrison was hungry for her, the look in his eyes predatory, and Skye had no idea what was coming, but she knew it would be delicious.
He shifted slightly, and instead of straddling her, one knee pushed between her thighs, rubbing against the wet folds until the thin strip of material covering them was soaking wet. She shamelessly bucked against it and rode it out, so close to a peak that she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out, especially as Harrison pinched her free nipple and rolled it between finger and thumb. She was crazed and didn’t know how long she could control herself. But she wanted more, and she wanted this release to be one for the record books, so she fought to hold on, just a little longer.
He finally released her nipple from between his teeth and, with maddening, deliberately slow movements, he slithered down her body, kissing a line to her navel and lower. He curled one finger in the string of her panties and tugged, making her wriggle so they could slip down her legs and join the t-shirt wherever it had landed. Skye’s breath came in short gasps, and she realized that, even though she’d been naked with him on multiple occasions, she felt particularly vulnerable at the moment, as if the slightest judgment from him would traumatize her for life.
But he stared at her as if she was a goddess, all the rough desperation gone and nothing but adoration and tenderness as he stroked her arms, her breasts, her stomach, and then reached between her thighs to stroke her slit. She whimpered and arched against his palm as his thumb rolled over her clit, and she exploded into his hand tears in her eyes at the intensity of her release. “Keep coming,” Harrison encouraged, shoving a finger inside her to push against the sweet spot that heightened her sensation.
Skye cried out, wordlessly, unable to stop writhing at the overwhelming sensation. She scratched and clawed at his arms, his chest, and his back, as if it would bring her back down or ground her, but he slid out of her reach, chuckling with a sinister smile that she only saw through unfocused eyes. The room seemed to be bathed in blinding white light, and it took what felt like hours for her to come down and the brilliance to dull.
Harrison hovered over her, locking gazes, and there was a pained expression on his face. “I need to be inside you,” he groaned. The vulnerability he showed with the plea in his voice had her speechless, and all she could do was nod. He didn’t hesitate, driving into her with one long thrust. Her moisture made it easy, and he slid in readily, as if she was made for his length. His cock throbbed inside her, and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him tighter as she lifted her hips and urged him to go deeper. She wanted all of him. She needed this, needed to feel him again, to remember the euphoria of their shared passion.
So much had happened, so many things gone wrong, and she needed to know that none of it had changed this perfection. And as he began to move and find a rhythm, his cock thick and stroking her inner walls delightfully, she knew it hadn’t. Or if it had, it had only made things better. Her whole body buzzed, like electricity flowed through her veins, and her vision blurred again. But Skye didn’t care. She didn’t need to see Harrison’s face to know he felt the same way.
She could sense it in the way he moved, the way he pistoned in and out of her, forcing the cons
tant friction, despite the way his arms trembled as he held himself rigid. She could hear it in his rapid and uneven breathing, as erratic as her own. She could feel it in the way his body shuttered, the stutter in his rhythm as he nearly lost control.
And that’s what pushed her over the edge again, the fact that he was so far gone, so entranced and so desperate to make this moment last that he could barely contain himself. Skye unleashed her inner beast, screaming and scoring Harrison’s back with her nails as her body gave over to the intense pleasure, so sweet and sudden that it hurled her into a cloud of elation. It bordered on pain, and as Harrison gave over to his own pleasure, spilling inside her with a rough thrust and a roar, she came again. The new wave first rolling into her, then taking her to a pinnacle she’d never felt before.
She barely noticed when he collapsed on top of her, other than to feel his heavy breathing through her tousled hair and smell his musky scent as it surrounded her. She smiled in complete satisfaction, enjoying the way it felt for his cock to slowly soften insider her and still fill her. It was a unique and intimate sensation, one she was going to treasure.
But that also reminded her of something else she wanted to keep close to her heart, and she would never be able to do that unless she got her feelings out in the open. So when he shifted above her, she moved, too, trying to make it clear that she needed to get up. He rolled to the side, head propped up by his elbow and stared at her with the most radiant expression, his smile boyish and filled with delight. It was a good start.
“We should talk,” she said, her voice hoarse from screaming.
His eyes winced, though his face remained playful as he drew a finger up and down between her breasts and navel. It tickled and kept the fire burning inside, but she was in the right headspace now to ignore her libido. “Do we have to? I like it when we’re too busy having sex to talk.”
She snorted. “I bet you do. But we really have to talk. You asked me a question I never answered. And it’s important I tell you.”