Thirty-Three
F inally. Finally he was making a move on me. No longer seeing me as this damaged, wounded person, or maybe this tainted person, who’d been covered in another man’s cum.
“Depends on what you’re capable of, old man. We don’t want to hurt your poor old ticker.”
He growled, and fisted my hair, dragging my lips back to his. His beard tickled my face, as his lips teased at mine, sliding, stroking, pecking. Never giving me what I wanted. The heat of his mouth. The thrust of his tongue against mine.
“Reacher… stop it!” I finally shoved him back, and he frowned back at me.
“You got a problem, woman?”
I stood up, and removed the t-shirt of his that I wore, noticing that slight pinch again from the wound on my stomach. His eyes moved straight to my bra, which disappeared next. I hadn’t wanted to wear one, but the thought of being anywhere near Raoul, without my boobs covered up by as many layers as possible, had been unbearable.
“You sure this isn’t gonna hurt you?” He looked uncertain, even as his eyes travelled the length of my body. My imperfect stomach pressed against the waist of the tight jeans, which I quickly unfastened, and started to slide down my legs.
Reacher grabbed me, and carefully dropped me on my back on the bed, picking up one booted foot after the other, easing my feet out of them, before he slid the jeans the rest of the way down my legs. That just left the thong I wore, and he glared at it for a moment.
“Thinking of burning every damn piece of underwear you own, woman.”
“He didn’t see me in these, Reacher.”
He grabbed the sides of the thong, sliding it down my legs slowly, his eyes staying on mine.
“I was actually meaning that I don’t want you wearing any, dammit. I want you fucking available for every time I want to fuck you.”
I grinned as he turned and tossed the perfectly good thong in the wastebin.
“So you want me free of underwear around all the other men here?”
His eyes narrowed, as he lowered himself over me, still fully clothed.
“Fuck it. Don’t suppose I can keep you tied to the bed the whole time instead?”
I swallowed hard, shrugging a little.
“Maybe sometimes.”
Reacher grinned, pressing his lips against mine again, as his body trapped me on the bed. His lips travelled from my mouth to my chin, and then he angled my head, letting his lips at the sensitive skin of my throat. I felt little shivers running through me as his lips teased their way down to my collarbone.
“Reacher…”
“For once in your life, woman, just keep that mouth shut, and let me do my thing, yeah? I don’t want to rush this. I want to enjoy every fucking inch of you, before I give you every fucking inch of me. That okay with you?”
I giggled, wriggling beneath him, watching his eyes narrow a little.
“Behave, dammit. This body is mine to worship, and I’m long overdue.”
“Don’t get all preachery on me!”
His chuckles travelled down my stomach, as he kissed his way down. When he reached the patched up wound on my stomach, he pressed a light kiss beside it, and pressed his face against my stomach.
“I hate that there’s a fucking mark on your body that was caused by that bastard. He doesn’t deserve to leave marks on you. Any mark on your skin should be from me. From us. Jesus.” He pressed his cheek against my thigh, leaning for a moment.
“I want my fucking name on you, Ally. I need it. It’s… You’re mine, and I want us tatted.”
I knew he wasn’t speaking idly, about two people going to a tattooist together and having matching tattoos. He was talking about biker rites of passage. He was talking about us wearing each other’s mark, claiming me as his official old lady. It was agonising to see how it was hurting him. His damn brothers. I wanted to scream at them. Hit them. Knock their dumb, empty heads against each other.
“I want that too, Reacher.”
He groaned, prying my legs apart, to bury his face there, breathing deeply. It was oddly erotic. I mean, it was mortifying on a personal level, to have a man smelling me down there, but when he did it, it was like he needed it. The smell of me. My scent. Like it was oxygen for him.
He rubbed his beard against my already heated flesh, and I felt a shudder run through me. He felt it too, lifting his eyes to stare at me.
“I’ll be as gentle as I can, woman, but I need you, and more importantly, you need me. You need me to claim you back as mine, so that there’s not even a fucking memory left of that bastard. I know he didn’t… didn’t get the chance to…”
I stroked his hair, shushing him.
“He doesn’t exist, Reacher. He never did.”
He rubbed at his eyes, his voice gruff when he replied.
“Nobody is ever gonna hurt you again, Ally. I won’t let it happen.”
Reacher
A nd there I am, pussying out when I should be pleasuring my woman. I’d tried to hide how fucking terrified I’d been at the thought of losing her, of not having her beside me, and with me, but it was impossible.
She was putting it out there; her fears, her needs, her thoughts… and I was hiding mine, and doing the whole ‘manning up’ thing. What I really wanted to do was wrap my fucking arms around her, and hold her every second of every damn day, because that was the only way I’d know she was safe.
“Reacher?”
“Yeah.” Damn, my voice was shaky.
“Are you stiffing me out of a good time then, or can we get on with it?” Her tone of voice wasn’t quite on point, but she was trying, and I barked out a laugh.
“Just giving you time to brace yourself, woman.” Yeah, I can do this. I can show her with my fucking body just how much she means to me. Just how much I need her, just to be able to breathe. My body had literally tried to give up when she was taken from me. How much more proof did we need?
“Reacher? Oh fuck!” The door slammed, and I shot Ally a frustrated look, because now I was torn and supremely pissed off. Should I stay here, and keep doing this, keep pleasing my woman, or should I find Stitch, and feed him my fist through every possible orifice, until he remembers how to fucking knock.
She dragged the covers over her, gesturing to the door.
“Go. It might be important.”
“More important than this? Than you?”
She grinned wickedly. “Don’t take too long, old man. We don’t want your stamina running out.”
Fucking woman. She’d pay for that. She hurried to the bathroom, and I yelled out to Stitch, who poked his head back around the door.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Reacher. I… I guess I figured she wasn’t up to it yet, and it’d be safe for me to be a dumbass, and not knock.”
I waved at him to come in, wondering why I wasn’t beating the shit out of him for his fucking disgraceful interruption.
“Did you see her naked?”
He shot me a horrified look.
“God no. You know I wouldn’t dream of it.” Yeah, like it was possible not to see her gorgeous naked flesh as she lay there.
“You’re lucky I’m saving all my energy for my woman right now. What was so important that you had to cockblock me like that?”
“Jesus.” He ran his hand through his hair. He was no longer covered in blood either, so I knew he’d done exactly what I did and focused on getting clean.
“Just wanted to confirm that the uh… deed is done, and clean up is in progress. Damn… those poor prospects. Two of them threw up instantly.”
“Nice. I’m really not sure why you’re trying to kill my boner by even being in the room, let alone telling me that.”
He laughed, walking over to the window to stare out for a moment, while I took a second to adjust what was left of my hard on and followed him. At least I hadn’t stripped yet too.
“Any other news?”
He nodded. “Rossi’s guy, uh… DeMarco. He wanted us to know that there’s nobody left in this branch of the cartel. They took the intel we had, along with what they’d already worked out, and they finished them off. If we wanted the harder drugs trade in the area, it’s up for grabs, but I told them that’s not how we roll.”
“Damn right. Any news on Ice?”
“Yeah, he’s pissed, and wants to come home.”
Thank fuck for that. “And what’s the plan there?”
“You’re visiting him with me later, and we can decide then.”
“So not content with interrupting me in the bedroom with my old lady, you’re now putting a fucking time limit on us?”
He turned to look at me again, and I was struck once more by how tired he looked. All of this shit had been hard on him. He’d had to run things while I was ill. He’d had to manage so much, and it was clearly wearing him out.
“Brother, ignore me. I’m being an asshole.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to ruin your time with your lady, man. You know that. I’m just, I’m trying to hold things together, yeah?”
I felt shamed, and I fucking should, of course I should.
“Dammit, Stitch, I’m sorry. You’re holding things together while I piss around, and slack off, and I should be by your damn side.”
He shrugged, rubbing both hands over his face, practically hiding from me for a moment, before he lowered them.
“I’ll be okay once I get some sleep. Uh… listen, after all of this, I uh… I might have to take a few days, got some shit to sort out, yeah?”
What shit did he have to sort out? What did he have going on that wasn’t a club issue.
“Are you okay? Is something going on with Elise?” He’d drop everything for his younger sister, and I’d back him all the fucking way if she needed help.
He waved a hand at me. “Nah, Elise is fine, just fine. I’ve just got some stuff going on, and you know, it’s uh… it’s not gonna fix itself. That’s all.”
And now I was worrying about him too.
“Brother, you need anything, I’m there, yeah? If you need to go sooner, you go sooner. I’ll pick things up again, and stop leaning on you so much.”
He smirked as he headed for the door.
“Yeah, whatever… now go finish your woman off, so we can go, yeah?”
Prick . His words, and his general state, were bothering me though. Something was wrong with my VP, and it was down to me to find out what.