THIRTY-ONE
Ginger fell asleep waiting up for Repo to get home. She’d spent the drive back from Blake’s silent as a church mouse, praying he’d hold off on laying into her, like, forever. But she knew his wrath would eventually come. She didn’t want to fight.
She’d gotten a reprieve when Blake had asked him to check on Country, make sure he wasn’t out doing anything stupid.
She’d breathed steady for about an hour, and then the anticipation and anxiety kicked in again. When this came to blows, as it inevitably would, she knew nothing good would come of it. They were too evenly paired. Neither would give an inch.
Ginger wouldn’t back down. Repo wasn’t one to let shit slide. He liked to air grievances, and he didn’t always do it quietly. He was always one of two extremes: silent or in your face. Unlike most, he didn’t have an in between. And Ginger didn’t respond well to being told what to do.
So, she’d waited and prayed, hoping for the best. Eventually, pure exhaustion had sucked her in, leaving her dead to the world. Her dreams were no escape, however, and she replayed that visit to The Tavern in her mind’s eye, heightening her nerves. Running from killers in her dreams had never been her favorite, and when they were killers she knew, it made it all the more terrifying and real.
Fortunately, the nightmares eventually shifted to something more pleasurable, something more erotic, and Ginger’s breathing escalated for a totally different reason altogether.
Lying on the bed, she felt the side of the mattress dip down and the vibration of him coming closer as he crawled across the blankets toward her.
Ginger kept her eyes closed tight, feigning sleep. A smile twitched at the corners of her lips, but she managed to hold it at bay, curious to see what his next move would be.
The covers slipped gently down her body, exposing first her breasts, then her stomach, and when the cool air touched her warm core, she shivered, her skin pebbling.
Still, her eyes remained closed, waiting for his next move.
His fingers touched the outside of her right ankle then slid slowly up her calf to her thigh, her hip, then in, skating across her smooth, tautt belly. Her breathing escalated, her heart fluttering wildly as he switched to only one finger and moved lower, tracing a line from her navel, over her mound, to her swollen clit.
Still, she somehow managed to remain still and quiet as he pushed that thick digit between her lips and circled her entrance, collecting the silky moisture and spreading it around in slow, deliberate circles.
Ginger’s thighs began to tremble as he flicked her clit lightly back and forth and dipped down again, this time pushing inside her. He didn’t go slow. Instead, he went all the way, burying that finger inside her until she let out an involuntary moan.
She couldn’t open her eyes now, even if she wanted to.
A soft chuckle was the only response she received, and then, as he continued to finger her, she felt his big body shift.
She didn’t dare look. As long as he continued touching her, wringing pleasure from her needy core, she didn’t really care what else he was up to.
A moment later, her thighs were split wide open to make way for an even wider set of shoulders. Had she been curious what would happen next, he quickly satisfied it.
Adding a second finger to her pussy, he stretched her inner walls as he fit his mouth over her aching clit.
This time, Ginger moaned long and loud, leaving no doubt that she was, in fact, wide awake. Her back arched, pressing her naked breasts toward the ceiling, as his tongue licked up her juice and rapidly circled her clit.
He wasn’t going to play nice. He was going to drive her right off the cliff and straight into oblivion.
And Ginger was going to love every second.
Reaching down, she pushed her fingers through his thick hair and grabbed on tight. “Oh, Garrick,” she gasped, “don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
He didn’t. Reaching around, his thick arm circled her thigh, and his palm flattened over her mound, his long fingers spreading her pussy lips…and then he went to town devouring her.
Ginger felt the heat creeping through her body, spreading like a wave, her skin growing tighter as the sensations enveloped her. She was so close, her legs shaking and her fingers pulling. She must be hurting him, she thought idly, but she didn’t hear him complaining.
If anything, it only seemed to fuel his efforts, and God, she was so grateful for that.
If he stopped now, she’d die.
Hell, she might die if he didn’t stop.
But she was more than willing to take that risk.
Even working in such tight confines, Repo managed to pump his fingers hard and fast, and her pussy thanked him for his effort by clamping down around them and coating them until all she could focus on was the sloppy, wet sounds of her juices—evidence of the kind of pleasure he brought her.
There was going to be such a mess by the time he was done with her.
And just the idea of that sent her spiraling over the edge.
With one hand buried in his hair and the other over her head, gripping the headboard, heels planted in the mattress and her breaths heaving from her lungs, Ginger let loose, sending a cry of bliss into the universe as she came hard.
Repo rode those waves with her, fingering and licking and sucking while her whole body convulsed again and again until she simply couldn’t take anymore.
He was going for another round, his lips fastened onto her clit like a suction cup, and she had to pry him away, too sensitive for more and desperate for a reprieve.
He chuckled, the sound low and deep, as he climbed up her body, his hips fitting perfectly between her legs, and planted his arms on either side of her head.
His lips came next, touching hers softly, coaxing her to open and let him inside. And just like that, the wild, frenetic energy dropped to a low simmer, and Ginger sighed into his mouth. Her hands once again went to his hair, gently this time, holding him to her as he kissed her languidly, sweetly—much different from the reaction she’d been expecting from him after waiting so long to feel his wrath.
Despite having already come, tasting him on her tongue, feeling his weight pressing down on top of her, quickly turned that simmer in her veins into a full-on boil, and once again, Ginger was ready to go.
Hitching her legs up around his hips, she angled her head and sucked his tongue into her mouth. Her hips rocked up, grinding her pussy into that hard cock she felt resting between them, letting him know exactly what she wanted from him next.
But she didn’t get the reaction she was looking for.
With a hiss, Repo jerked back, severing the kiss…and shattering the dream.
Ginger’s eyes snapped open, and the first thing she saw was Garrick’s handsome, pained face in front of hers.
Startled, she jolted…smashing her forehead into his nose.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Falling back on the bed, Garrick held his nose, eyes squeezed shut, and cursed up a storm. “What the fuck was that for? Fuck!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Ginger was quick to spit out. Up on her knees in a flash, she hovered over him, hands fluttering over his body. “What can I do? Do you need ice? I can get ice.” She was off like a shot, rushing from the room to retrieve a dish towel and ice cubes, and she was back just as fast, leaping onto the bed and slapping his hand away from his face to replace it with the makeshift medi-pack.
Garrick groaned as he lay there, allowing the cold to seep in, before finally opening his eyes and squinting up at her.
“I always knew you had a hard ass head, but shit.”
Ginger stared at him, puzzled. He didn’t seem mad. In fact, he seemed…amused.
“Why are you looking me like that?” she questioned.
“Because I’m clearly out of my mind,” he said, a smile apparent in his voice.
Okay, she was confused. Not only had her dream not been a dream—because, hello! She was wetter than the Niagara down there—but she’d hurt him! And he was behaving as if it was no BFD.
“I don’t understand you.” She sat back against the pillows, drawing the blankets up to cover herself, and he followed.
“You don’t need to understand me. You just need to listen.”
“There you go again, trying to be all macho.”
He turned his head, cocking a snowy brow. “Trying to be? Babe, I am macho.”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile bloomed, destroying her attempt to appear annoyed. “Whatever you say, dear.”
“Oh, we’ve graduated to pet names,” he teased, but she could tell he liked it.
She scowled. “Don’t let your head swell. I call everyone ‘dear.’”
He scowled back. “Then you’d better either cut that shit quick or come up with a different name.”
She cocked her head to the side. “How about dick.”
“Because of my huge dick?” he asked, smirking as he reached between his legs to cup the appendage in question.
She rolled her eyes again. With that wadded up dishtowel plastered to the middle of his face, the desired effect was lost on her. “As in you are one, dear.”
“You’re such a bitch, babe.”
“Maybe, but I’m still the bitch you were eating out a minute ago,” she threw back at him.
She still couldn’t believe that hadn’t been a dream. Wow. What had she done to inspire such sweetness? He was pissed at her, wasn’t he? Maybe he’d gotten over it? Maybe that’s why he hadn’t yelled at her on the ride back.
At her words, Garrick’s ice blue eyes seemed to warm, and he dropped the hand holding the towel to rest on top of his jean-clad thigh…revealing the sexiest grin she’d ever seen in her life.
Holy shit, the man should come with a warning label.
“You have the best tasting pussy I’ve ever eaten, babe.” He shifted on the bed, setting the towel aside as he crawled toward her. His voice was a deep, sexy husk that sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body. “Warm, wet…soft. I like the way your cream feels going down my throat, so silky and sweet. Mmmm…I could eat you all night.”
Surprised by the admission, Ginger stared at him with wide eyes. “I thought you were mad at me,” she said softly.
Stopping directly in front of her, his face mere inches away, Garrick’s eyes fastened to her lips as he spoke. “Oh, babe, I am mad at you. You were very, very naughty today. What you girls did…?” He shook his head, and the strong, pure masculinity of him, and the way he was staring at her mouth like he was seconds away from biting it, made her pussy clench. “That was dangerous.”
“Then why aren’t you yelling?” she asked. She was used to a man yelling. Hawke was always yelling at her. And his anger was usually followed up with fists. Inside, she knew Garrick wasn’t Hawke, and he’d never hurt her…but the damaged woman inside of her still shrank back, expecting the worst.
“Because people listen better when I talk,” he said simply. “When you do the opposite of what a person expects, they hear better.” His hand came up, calloused fingers touching her bottom lip lightly, ticking the sensitive flesh. “And something tells me you’ve had enough yelling, hmm?”
Her heart melted on the spot. He knew…and he understood. He was taking care with her, treading lightly because he knew what she’d been through.
It was both heartwarming and humiliating, because any time Ginger looked back on that part of her life, she was embarrassed by how long she’d allowed it to go on, by how much abuse she took, how many excuses she made. And the lengths she’d gone to try to hide it all.
She remained silent on the subject, unwilling to dig up the past and taint the present. Hawke had no place in their lives anymore. He was and should always remain a distant memory.
“Look, Red,” Garrick said, serious now, “I’m not going to yell. You’ve been with the club long enough to know the rules and the reasons they’re in place. You know what you did wasn’t smart, and you should have come to me instead of running off on a fool’s errand.”
She glared at the blankets, resenting his words even though she knew they were true. She and the girls had just been trying to help. In a world where the men ruled everything, sometimes it was nice to just be in the loop, to effect change in some way, however small.
“Don’t make that face,” he warned her. “You know how it is and that’s not going to change. You women are always looking to get in the middle of things, and tonight should be a glaring lesson to you why we have the rules in place that we do. You just don’t have any business being that close to the fire.”
“You talk like we’re some little children you’re trying to keep track of.”
“Not children,” he corrected her. “You’re important in a different way, babe. There’s a natural order to things: men do the hard work, we provide and protect, and women keep the men together. It’s a partnership, a balance that’s worked since the dawn of time. Stop trying to mess that up.”
He smirked at her, but Ginger just wasn’t feeling the old boy mentality. Women could be fierce, too, dammit.
“There’s that look again,” Garrick observed. “Do I have to spank you to get you to listen?”
“That wouldn’t work,” Ginger informed him. Not only would she like it, but it would also have the opposite effect—she’d just be more inclined to go against his wishes.
“Maybe putting my kid in you would tame your ass then.”
Ginger’s gaze snapped up, meeting his. “Did I just hear you right?
“I didn’t stutter, babe.”
“You think you’re going to get me pregnant to better keep me under your thumb?” She scoffed, her ire peaked. “You’re assuming I’d even let you near me again with that attitude.” Done with the macho bullshit, she threw back the blankets, ignoring his roaming eyes all over her naked body, and climbed out of bed in search of clothing.
“Where are you going?” Garrick asked, his voice tired. She didn’t answer him. “Babe…Red, you can be pissed all you want, but you know it’s going to happen one way or another. Hell, maybe it already has.”
Heat filled her head, and her temples pounded. Because he was right. He’d come inside her. She could be pregnant right now and not even know it. But that didn’t make her his property. Far from it.
Stepping into her panties, Ginger said, “We are not a forgone conclusion, Repo. For a minute there, I was actually getting on board with the idea of being with you, but you know what?” She yanked her bra straps up her arms and wrestled with the latch. “It was my mistake thinking you’d changed, or that you respected me. Clearly, I lost my damned mind thinking we could ever work.”
“You’re wrong about that,” Garrick said calmly, which pissed her off even more. “We do work, Red. We always have. Why do you think I staked my claim on you?”
“Because you’re tired of bouncing from one piece of ass to the next, and you thought I’d be easy.” She whirled around to face him, her shirt balled in her fist at her side. “I’m not property, Garrick. I’m a human being with my own thoughts and feelings, and I don’t take orders well.” Not anymore. “I wasted too much of my life being ordered around by a man, and I won’t make that mistake twice. I’d rather be alone forever.”
He gave her a pained look but didn’t say anything, so she finished getting dressed and collected her things. Thank God Taco had brought her car over when she’d come to stay. At least she wasn’t trapped. “I really wish you’d been different, Garrick, I really do.”
“I am different,” he growled out.
“You’re not. I’ve known you practically my whole life. I know you,” she impressed. “You’re a good man, but you’re too set in your ways. You don’t see me as a partner but a possession. It breaks my heart, but I can’t do it again. I just can’t.”
Again, he didn’t argue. Ginger stood before him, pleading with her eyes and her heart for him to speak up and state his case, change her mind…but he didn’t. Damn him, but he just sat there on that bed, gorgeous and mussed from her hands in his hair, face flushed with emotion…and he didn’t say a damn word.
What else could she do? If he wasn’t willing to fight for her, then she had to leave.
Lifting her arms, she let them drop back to her sides in defeat. She’d tried.
“Let me know if anything changes,” she told him, hoping but not really believing anything ever would. Then she turned and walked out, holding onto the flood of emotion that threatened to tear her apart with each step she took away from that house and farther out of his life. And with each step she took that he didn’t follow, begging her to come back, she felt her heart splinter more, cracks that would turn into scars spidering out in every direction until she didn’t know how or what was holding the pieces together anymore.