Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CLOVER
The room is dark when we enter, lit only by a streetlamp outside, and Valen is quick to turn on the light for me.
Dancing around each other in the tiny room makes brushing our teeth an overly intimate affair.
He grins at me in the mirror, where my toothbrush is jammed against my gums and my long hair is piled on top of my head. I’m disheveled at best, but he’s staring at me as though he might strip me bare right here.
And cue the horrid blush that rolls over my skin as a metric ton of dirty thoughts filter through my mind.
He lowers his head to the sink and spits toothpaste foam before wiping the corners of his mouth, turning sideways, and pressing himself against my body as he leaves the room, taking all the heat with him.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I smell my pits—could definitely use a touch-up—and run a hand over my legs—scratchy, but not alarming—then wipe away the smudge of mascara that’s giving me raccoon eyes.
Oh my God. I’m prep sexing? Sex prepping? Am I going to have sex? With Valen?
I release a breath that sounds eerily like a seal, lower my eyes so I can’t see myself blush, and count backward from a hundred.
Obviously, I’m getting ahead of myself here.
He hasn’t really given me any signs. Not like, come here, Clover, and jump on my cock-stick. That would be one hell of a sign, though, huh?
Also, is cock-stick a thing? I snort a laugh under my breath. Cock-stick is going in a book.
“Clover?”
I jolt and whack my knee against the counter. Yup, I’m hyperventilating.
Emerging from the bathroom, I have no chance of avoiding him because he’s changed up his side of the bed again. He’s chosen the side closest to the door, just like last time.
“Are you okay?” He’s wearing a grin that has me instantly staring at my toes. Jesus, who was it who flew too close to the sun? That’s me, and Valen’s the sun.
Too hot. Too blinding. Too everything.
“Yup,” I chirp like a freaking bird, then climb in beside him. He immediately pulls me close. My back to his chest. His arm around my waist. My head on his bicep, and I relax into his strong hold.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm.” The truth is, I don’t think I’ve ever been more comfortable, more confident, more…me. But worms of doubt are still burrowing in. “I thought you were worried about my…honor. Propriety?”
He grunts, and his cock twitches against my ass.
“My reasoning skills are subpar at best when you’re close, Honeybee.”
That lights up my entire body with warmth that feels like a hug.
“Can we try something?” he murmurs.
Yes. Yes. Yes—
“Both feet on the bed this time?”
My libido takes a nosedive as my muscles lock up like teeth of a zipper—strict, unyielding, confining me in my fear. “I—”
“You can do it, Clover. Both feet.” His voice is a salve to my fears, but not enough to make me forget years of surviving.
Yet I want to do this for him. More importantly, I want to do it for myself.
Slowly, reluctantly, I pull my left foot up onto the mattress, while my breathing takes on an aggravatingly shallow edge.
“Thank you,” he whispers into my hair. “Now.” He adjusts his grip so I’m flush against his body and…holy shit. “Tell me about this cock-stick you were muttering about.”
I gasp, splutter, cringe, and try to pull away all at the same time, but he holds strong, his head dropping to the spot between my shoulder and neck until his warm breath on my sensitive skin causes me to shiver while he chuckles and I silently die of mortification.
At least my fear has been shoved right out of my mind with two hands.
His fingers splay across my lower belly, and heat radiates to every nerve ending north and south of the border.
“Valen?”
“Hmm?” His fingers trace the elastic of my pajama pants, and my hips move on their own. It’s a slow roll that presses me against his growing erection.
“What are we doing?” I hate how small my voice sounds again. After a full day of feeling empowered, my insecurities are sneaking in and taking over.
“Exploring,” he rumbles against my skin. His lips dance across my shoulder in a sexual tango I can’t keep up with. “Are you up for…exploring with me, Honeybee?”
Though my core clenches with a giant hell yes, unfortunately, it’s my insecurities in the driver’s seat.
“What—what happens when this is…over? When you—”
I screech when he rolls and pins me to the mattress with his muscular body. His delicious weight holds me in place, and the tension in my shoulders uncoils.
“I’ve fucked up somewhere.” His low timber is hypnotic.
“What?”
“Everything in my soul is directing me to you, Honeybee. I don’t know what the future holds, but I don’t plan to walk away from this connection until we’ve explored every inch of it and have determined together what the future looks like.
And none of that can happen until we’ve caught this asshole. ”
He’s— “Are you angry?”
“Yes.” He settles more of his weight on top of me, and my entire body sighs in response.
His blue eyes flame at the sound. “I’m pissed that you were taken from me for so many years.
I’m pissed that I don’t recall our connection, even though I clearly feel it.
I’m pissed that someone thinks they can stalk and harass you.
I’m pissed that I want to kiss every inch of your skin, yet there’s a contract somewhere that says I’m hired to protect you. ”
“You’re fired. You are fired. Right now. I accept kisses in arrears. Lots and lots of kisses.”
He laughs so hard it presses his lower half into my core, and I moan in blissful agony. He’s so close, yet so far away.
“Honeybee,” he groans, dropping a hand to my hip to keep me still.
How embarrassing—I’m grinding against him and can’t stop.
“We don’t have to rush into this,” he moans. “We can take our time.”
I claw at his T-shirt. “Oh, I want to rush. I’m totally fine with rushing.”
In a move straight out of a movie, he locks both my wrists in one of his big hands, holding them against his belly as he straddles me.
“Clover,” he growls. “I need you to use your words…and be very fucking clear about what you want here.”
Ah, I thought I was pretty clear. Trepidation settles in, but I shake it off. I want this. I want him.
“You,” I whisper. The last truth I was hiding in my heart. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”
His eyes close, and he tilts his face to the ceiling. “Fuck, Clover. You wreck me.” When he looks down again, it’s with hungry eyes and a possessive streak that sends delicious shivers through my limbs.
He lowers my hands to his cock, then squeezes my hand over his erection with his own. “This is what you do to me, Honeybee, but I don’t have a lot of experience with gentle.”
He doesn’t… What does that mean?
“I don’t have a lot of experience in general, so I guess that makes us even?” A horrifyingly tragic giggle escapes me—it’s part donkey, part hyena. In essence? Not cute.
My hand pinches beneath his as he applies more pressure to his erection. Doesn’t that hurt? I’m having secondhand pain from his squeezing of the sausage. Saus-eege. It’s a giant sausage.
Jesus, Clover. Stop thinking about sausage.
Biting on my lip, I peer up at him through my lashes. Please don’t let me have said that out loud.
His jaw is clenched tight. Great. I totally said that out loud, and now I’m probably losing my chance here.
“What do you mean, you don’t have a lot of experience?” His voice is huskier than before, lower, with a hint of gravel that reminds me of a romance hero.
But his stare is intense, so I shrug and look down at where my hand covers his crotch. Who else has to explain their sexual ineptness while holding a giant penis? I seriously have the worst luck. “Ah, I had a boyfriend a few years ago. It wasn’t…great.”
“Clover.” My name is a command on his lips, and my body falls in line faster than a soldier. “Are you telling me you’ve only been with me and one bumbling asshole?”
“Ah, I mean…” My hand twitches, squeezing him involuntarily, and my eyes roll to the back of my head when he groans.
“Clover,” he barks.
“I had a booty call for a couple of years, but I ended that when Madi met Braxton because all the guy wanted to do was talk shit about him. There might have been a one-night stand or two?” I’m breathless and struggling to form coherent thoughts.
“Might have been?” He’s going to crack his teeth any moment now.
“Okay, maybe two or three of them,” I say with more sass than I’ve ever possessed. “Why is this all about me? What about you? You must have slept with hordes of women, gaggles of them even. Don’t even try to tell me you haven’t had girlfriends.”
My face twists painfully. Ugh, shut your pie hole, Clover. I really don’t want to hear about his past girlfriends.
“Wait,” I say, attempting to wiggle my hands free as a horrifying thought slams into my chest. “Do you? You don’t have a girlfriend now, do you?”
He rolls his eyes while settling himself more securely at my core. “I’ve never had a girlfriend, Clover.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, and I know instantly that he doesn’t like it—for some reason, it makes me want to do it again.
“Sure, you haven’t. You’re just six foot five of sexy muscle and godlike looks that’s never had a girlfriend.”
“While I do love that you keep trying to make me bigger than my six-foot-three frame, I’ve never had a girlfriend,” he frowns. “That I remember. And I’m not a liar.”
I think my face is turning green. “Just…hookups, then?” That wasn’t even close to a casual tone.
We’re going to need an STI check.
“Not random ones, no.” He lowers his body so he’s flush against me. It places his lips mere inches from mine, and now there’s no escaping him.
“What does that mean…exactly?” Who the hell is in charge of my voice? I’d like to file a complaint—wanton and needy is not the look I’m going for.
“It means my hookups were scheduled, preplanned, and in a safe, controlled environment.”
I swallow, and once again it’s an embarrassing gulping sound. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
He closes his eyes, as though he’s in pain.
“I’ll explain, but no matter what happens in the next thirty seconds, I won’t let you run.
I’m telling you now, before I explain anything, that you’ll need some time to process the information, and while you’re doing that, I’m going to lick your pussy until you forget any questions you want to ask. ”
Gulp.
If he says he’s into necrophilia, I don’t care how much I love him. I’m out of here so fast.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
Maybe? I’m struggling to remember anything except his voice when he said he was going to lick my pussy, but I manage to wobble my head in a circle. It’s as close to an answer as he’ll get from me.
He chuckles, and he’s so close to my left breast that my nipple pebbles up, catching his attention.
“Okay, here goes.” He slips his palms inside my sleep shorts and removes them and my panties in one fell swoop. Before I can process the cool air hitting my most sensitive nub, he slips lower between my thighs. “My cousins own—well, Sterling specifically, inherited a sex club of sorts.”
My legs snap closed so quickly, I knee him in the nose.
“Ouch,” he chuckles, but pries my thighs wide again.
“Let me explain,” he soothes, the hot air from his mouth teasing my core.
“What I’m saying is, all the sexual encounters that I recall”—his gaze lifts meaningfully to mine—“have taken place at that club because getting close to a woman always left me feeling…hollow. Until I found you.”
His lips close around my clit as though he programmed it to come alive at his discretion, and he’s right. I do need time to process, but each pull of his mouth sends me deeper and deeper into a blissful haze I don’t ever want to escape from.
It’s a dirty play on his part.
“Wait,” I gasp.
He only slows down.
“I—I have so many…argh.” He slips a finger inside me, and my body shakes violently at the incredible intrusion. “So. Many. Questions.”
Valen pauses, and when he lifts his face, it’s glistening with me. I almost come right then, but he smirks while his fingers keep up their exploration.
“What kind of questions?” He’s staring at me, daring me, pleading with me in silence, but my mind is fighting to grasp the questions I should be asking.
He curls his fingers inside me, shocking my hips into motion.
“Um. Um.”
He applies pressure to my clit with his thumb. He has an unfair advantage, and he knows it.
“Okay. Okay,” I gasp when his fingers press against my inner walls. “Sex club, like where people have sex?”
His chuckle is deep and foreboding. Oh, Mylanta. I’m about to have sex with a very experienced man.
“Are you. Are you a Dom?”