Chapter 8

Damn it to hell. His guts tightened with the need to hit someone. It should be such a simple job. Protect one woman long enough for the police to pull together enough evidence to harass the Thirty-Second gang. Then he would draw the gang’s attention away from Mary Jane, make her more trouble than she was worth, especially once it sunk in that she was under his protection. Shit. That should be the Brothers of Mayhem’s protection, but he trusted no one but Wolf.

He reached the hallway and ignored the fist-size hole he’d left in the wall. Maybe he could send out a prospect to find a picture to hang over it until he bought more Sheetrock. Wolf leaned against the wall next to the door. Blowing out a long trail of smoke, he squinted through the haze as he handed off the joint to Storm.

“She’s in there cleaning up. I figured you would prefer I stay out here.”

That was why he recommended Wolf as VP. Smart bastard. Storm took a toke and handed it back.

“Go on downstairs and have a good time.” He nodded for Wolf to return to the party.

With a whoop, Wolf sprinted for the stairs. “I’m coming, ladies!”

Maybe knocking would be the polite thing to do, but why would he? It was his room. Hell—

Storm opened the door and stopped, holding his breath. He pretended to scratch his chest. Was his heart still beating?

Mary Jane stood in the bathroom, door wide open, with no shirt on, her back to him, twisting to look in the mirror above the sink, trying for a glimpse of her lower back. She had taught her attacker a good lesson, but the shoe-size bruise wasn’t what held his attention. It was what covered most of her back. A Chinese dragon. The artwork was exquisite. Damn. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. The red and black ink curled along her spine until the claw dipped below the waistband of her jeans.

Her gaze lifted and met his.

No movement. No sound penetrated the next few seconds as they stared into each other’s eyes. A feeling of destiny pulled at Storm.

Regaining the use of his legs, long strides brought him within inches of all that colorful, soft skin. He jerked off his gloves. A deep craving seized his usual control, and he ran a fingertip along the creature’s tail.

“Beautiful,” he reverently whispered. Unable to resist any longer, he bent down and ran his tongue down the scales. Her moans filled the small room as she arched her back into his touch.

He straightened. His hands traveled around her waist until he reached the snap of her jeans. With a flick of his thumb, he unfastened them, pulling the material apart. She didn’t protest when he shoved the denim and panties down her legs.

With a small nudge to her hips, he sent her toward the bedroom.

“Go. Lay on your stomach on my mattress.” His throat felt dry, his tone deep and hoarse. Seeing her hard nipples begging to be sucked almost brought him to his knees.

Without argument, she glided into the next room, hips swaying.

A sprinkle of cherry blossoms floated over a cheek, down one leg to behind her knee. What else did the woman have hidden?

The combination of long limbs, golden skin, exotic flowers, and a green-eyed dragon sent a rushing need throughout his body. If he didn’t release his cock from behind the zipper, he would have permanent indentions running along it.

He inhaled as he unsnapped his jeans and carefully unzipped. Grasping his cock, he stroked.

“Put your knees under you. Now spread them.” He could see every moist fold, shell pink to hot pink. “Hold on to the sheets and do not move your hands.”

“I wish you’d let me touch you.” Her airy voice sent pure fire down to his balls.

“Do what I say or I’ll tie your hands to the headboard.”

Her fingers clutched the linens.

Assured she would follow his instructions, he cupped her ass and squeezed. Firm yet lush, and perfect for resting his abs against. Pulling apart the globes, his fingers traced the seam downward, and then dipped between her folds. Moist and hot, her body easily took three. He pushed and she moaned.

“Damn, you’re ready for me.”

“Yes.” Just that short word said in a breathless whisper shot a hot desperation through him.

He pressed his cock into her pussy with one mind-blowing glide, every inch clutched by her tight heat. His eyelids lowered. Nothing felt better.

She gasped.

“Did I hurt you?”

“I’m a little sore, but that feels so good.”

“Yes. It does.” He groaned as he began thrusting, his gaze soaking in her delicate back and the artwork that completed her perfection.

Out of place, blue and red caught his attention. Anger flashed through his guts. Without losing his rhythm, he reached out and lightly caressed the dark bruise on her side. His fingers traced the small bite mark at her nape he’d left that morning. He wanted to be the only one leaving marks on her body.

He shifted to stroke deeper, and they moaned in unison. His balls drew up so tight he knew it was time to pull out, but she felt so good. Another pump into heaven, and he threw his head back as she orgasmed. The waves squeezing his cock brought tears to his eyes as he rode through the pleasure. At the last second, he found the strength to yank out and ejaculate across her buttocks.

Legs weak and unsteady, he stumbled to the bathroom door and looked back at her. She stretched with the look of a well-loved woman.

“Don’t move. I’ll get a cloth and clean you. We need to use condoms.”

“Yep. We. Should.” She released the sexiest giggle he’d ever heard.

A few seconds later, he returned, moving a warm damp washcloth over her skin with a tenderness only she brought out of him. Facedown, she snuggled into his sheets. He tossed the cloth to the floor.

“Goodness, your sheets smell like you. Last night, I had dreams of you.” She peeked up at him. “That’s a good thing. I love how you smell of man and gasoline with a little smoke mixed in. Thinking of you sure did make it difficult to fall asleep.”

His heartbeat sped up. He liked the thought of his scent on her skin as she dreamed.

With her half smile, and mussed hair softening her face, she looked like one of the sex kittens he’d admired in his foster dad’s old Playboy magazines when he was a kid.

She giggled again. “I feel like I had a cardio workout. So good.” She sighed. “Your fingers…how do you know where…?” Her hand waved above her head as if she hoped to pluck out of the air the right words to use.

Using a fingertip, he traced the design on her back. He couldn’t get enough of touching it, touching her. His other hand slipped along the crease of her ass. A thumb pressed momentarily into the smaller opening, causing her to squeal, and then he dipped two digits into her pussy. It had been a long time since he played with such sweetness. Before he’d been sent to prison. Since then, the few women he’d taken had been for quick fucks to relieve the pressure a hand job couldn’t slake.

“Why won’t you let me touch you?” she asked.

He dropped his hands from her and moved away.

“No. Don’t stop.” She sat up, bringing her knees to her chest, her toes off the bed. Maybe she’d hoped it would be a modest position, instead her crossed ankles framed her pussy and tempted him to push her back and taste what she flaunted.

With a quick glance up, he caught the twinkle in her eyes. She knew.

Was it bait to answer her questions?

He didn’t play that. She’d learn.

Mary Jane watched closely as Storm stalked back to the bed. She loved how he fought to keep his gaze on hers but kept losing out. His eyes warmed with each glance down.

When he reached out, she shifted, placing her feet together on the bed. His gaze shot up to meet hers with indignation. She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Why? What happened to cause you not to like a woman’s touch?”

His gaze snapped up to hers.

Wow! His look chilled her to the bone, but she didn’t give up.

“I’m waiting,” she whispered. She knew she was pushing him, but she didn’t care. Except for a little roughness, that she had enjoyed, he hadn’t harmed her.

He grabbed her ankles and lifted her up until only her shoulders touched the bed.

She squealed and scrambled to reach the headboard, but it was too far. Biting her lip, she held in her laughter. She wasn’t sure how he did it, but he used one hand to hold her ankles together. Using his free hand, he slapped her ass, once on each cheek. The desire to laugh left her. The shock was followed closely by heat crawling between her legs. She loved his strength, his fierceness, and his control.

If only he would touch her again, touch her where she throbbed for his attention.

Unsure of what he planned next, she lost her breath when he flipped her onto her stomach and spread her legs. Holding each ankle up, he plunged inside.

She exhaled in surprise. Pleasure swamped every sense she possessed, including her common sense.

He grunted each word with a hard thrust, “I. Prefer. To. Do. The. Touching.”

Though tender in some places and sore in others, she didn’t want him to stop. He thrilled her in ways she never imagined as he took her with such fury. She also liked a man being a man. Forceful, rough, and so freaking sexy.

“But I want to hold you, push my fingers through your hair, tweak your nipples, and kiss you all over,” she said breathlessly, her body alive with electricity.

“Now I know I placed my cock in the wrong hole to shut you up.” He pulled out and turned her over to sink back in.

She caught the amusement in his tone.

“Wouldn’t you be too big?” she teased.

His eyebrows lifted as he looked into her eyes. Realization came over her at what he meant and she blushed.

“I was talking about your mouth, honey, but thank you,” he said with a lopsided grin. “And no, I don’t believe so. We can always try.”

She sucked in her breath. No way. He couldn’t mean he would try that? Could he?

She blinked and whatever he saw in her face caused him to pull out. A hotness coated her hip.

“I’ve got to get some fucking condoms before you kill me.” He leaned over and pulled up a corner of the sheet and wiped it off. Then he tugged the sheet off the bed and tossed it to the side.

As he stood over her in his club’s vest and T-shirt, with his jeans open and cock out, she found it to be erotic, but frustrating too.

“Why do you keep your clothes on? I will say it’s sexy in a way, but I think it’s only fair for you to be naked too, since you won’t let me put my hands on you.” Her nipples stiffened when his gaze wandered over every inch of her body.

“You just won’t stop, will you?”

“Obviously, you can’t either.” She tilted her head and pointedly looked down at his hands.

His fingers played with her. Such big hands, large enough to cover her mound and press in a rhythm.

A bark of laughter escaped him. She’d heard him chuckle before, but this was the first time she’d heard him full-out laugh.

“Yep. You’re right. I can’t get enough of that sweetness.” Then he dropped down, spread her wide, and began laving the folds with his tongue until she melted into the mattress. His wintry eyes watched her face.

A finger pumped into her depths as he continued to lick and suck. Just as her lower extremities tightened, ready to release, and he concentrated on the bundle of nerves, he withdrew his finger and sunk it into her smaller opening. She screamed silently as she’d lost her breath. His mouth sucked on her clit as he withdrew his finger and thrust again and again. Wave after wave hit her until she was afraid she would pass out.

She finally caught her breath and inhaled with one long, deep gasp.

Limp and so replete, she didn’t move when he stood and walked into the bathroom. There was no way she could move. Every limb weighed a ton.

Water ran for a few moments, and he returned, standing next to the bed, watching her. His cock still out and still hard. Oh God. It was a beautiful sight.

He kneeled on the bed near her head.

“My turn,” he said.

It didn’t take a genius to figure what would be next. Thinking of her sore butt, she was glad he decided on her mouth.

If anyone were to ask her at this point what was wrong with her, she would say she was lust drunk. She’d never wanted sex as much as she did with him.

“Do I get to stick my finger up your ass?” She grinned.

“Shut the fuck up and open your mouth.” He said it as if angry, but his eyes smiled. He didn’t have much of a sense of humor, but so far he took ribbing from her rather well.

She stretched her mouth wide, trying not to grin. Though she’d technically been a virgin, her mouth hadn’t been. She’d experimented on one of the boys at the commune before she left to live with Jimmy.

“That’s my girl.” He slowly pushed the crown past her lips. “Don’t try to take it all. That will come next time. Get your mouth comfortable around it and only take an inch or two.” He fed her a little more. “Use your tongue. Feel the small slit. Yep. That’s it. Damn, that’s the way. You pick up quick.” His eyes narrowed. “You tried this with someone else?”

She raised her eyebrows, not wanting to stop. She rolled her tongue around the sensitive head.

“Damn!” He got the idea. “As long as you’re with me, my cock is the only one you will be deep-throating.” A tug on her hair emphasized his feelings on sharing.

Her tongue followed the small line around the head until she dipped into the small opening. Then she opened her mouth wider and sank down. His moan told her she did it right as he pushed even more into her mouth. Her lips stopped where his fingers grasped his cock.

“Be careful with your teeth. Later, I’ll tell you how to use them, but for now, for fuck’s sake, don’t bite me.” He groaned as if in pain.

Her gaze shot up. The expression on his face was a mixture of pleasure and tenderness. She liked that look.

She loved how he felt in her mouth. It was a sensitive part of him that he trusted her to treat right. From what she learned from the boy at the commune, men loved to have it sucked. So she decided to give it a try on Storm. She drew on the end, and he whimpered, she smiled inside. Another suck and his hands cupped her head, fingers threaded into her hair.

Without thought, she raised her hands to grasp his hips, trying to avoid his cock going down her throat.

“Damn it, Mary Jane. Put your fucking hands down.” He thrust and she choked. She dropped her hands.

His hand circled his cock again, and she began to move up and down, sucking the head as it reached her lips.

“Jesus H. Christ” was all he said over and over again for about the next minute or so.

Despite having a massive orgasm moments earlier, she felt heat stirring low in her belly. She kind of understood why he enjoyed going down on her. How hot was it to see and hear his loss of control, all because of what she was doing to him?

“That’s enough. Move your mouth off me.”

She felt his heartbeat in her mouth. Ignoring his command, she sucked harder and moved faster.

“Fuck it.” Then he shot across her tongue and down her throat. She gagged but quickly recovered. Quite proud of how she took it like a pro, she finally released him when he stopped jerking into her mouth. She leaned her head back and smiled.

He clasped the hair on the back of her head and pulled until she reached her knees.

“That was fun,” she said as she blinked her eyes innocently.

“Next time I tell you to let me go, do it,” he said between gritted teeth, shaking his head for emphasis.

Her smile grew bigger. She liked knowing he liked it too much.

Several seconds passed as he stared into her eyes. Then his mouth covered hers. The hot kiss was magnified by the fact that he must taste himself on her tongue. She didn’t care if he got angry; she wanted to touch his hair. The rest of him was still covered with material, and she deserved that for giving such a great blowjob.

All that thick golden hair felt so soft and silky. She thought she might come just by touching the strands. Maybe this not touching stipulation was all a mind game to ramp up the need. She rubbed and clasped handfuls.

He jerked away and moved across the room.

“What did I tell you?” he yelled.

His chest heaved as if he’d been working out. With one big hand he wiped his face as if regaining control. He turned his back and then, using his fingers, brushed his hair out of his eyes.

She didn’t know what to say. For sure he had issues, but she thought they had gone beyond that, considering what all they’d done in the last hour or more.

The sound of a zipper drew her attention downward. His back still to her, she guessed he’d tucked his cock inside his jeans and zipped up. His shoulders hunched over, as if he’d been beaten.

She wished he would talk to her about what was eating at him.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll go and get us something to eat.” Without looking her way, he strode into the hallway and shut the door—not a slam or even a firm click, but a silent closure.

Tears welled up but she refused to let them go. Instead, she stiffened her spine and left the bed. Time for a long bath. She had a feeling the soreness would be worse tomorrow if she didn’t. She’d worry about what to do about Storm later.