Chapter Twenty-One
Margo
My eyes opened to find the sun streaming in from my sheer sage curtains, the ends of them shifting back and forth gently, my ceiling fan whirring above. A small moan left me as I lifted my arms over my head, stretching and rolling over. My eyes rolled back as my body arched, my muscles sighing.
Last night, after I’d gone into my student portal to pay my tuition bill, Carrie and Grayson had left.
I’d promised her I would come to work today on the condition she would let me talk to Sarah.
Michael, of course, would get involved, but Hayes told me not to worry about that.
He and Grayson also said Ash was on the ground, hunting down Gordon’s drug houses with the help of the Portland and Seattle FBI field offices.
After we left yesterday, as Grayson said, the boys got to work.
The FBI got a call from Grayson, spoke to Agent Garner, and from there, the field offices were looped in.
Gordon had been a person of interest and was on several “wanted” lists between the two states.
Jake had hacked into his account, reverted the stolen money back to my account, and scrambled the code, making it look like a glitch instead of a hack.
Marcus and Gordon had no idea who or what Red Snake Investigations was.
He was running blind, and the plan was to keep it that way.
At least until it became necessary for him to know that I was under the protection of Red Snake.
Hayes said we hadn’t reached that point yet.
Even though Hayes spoke to Marcus on the phone yesterday, the Red Snake guys weren’t too worried about it—meaning they didn’t believe Marcus was smart enough to investigate it.
I opened my eyes, letting out a sigh, my body feeling relaxed—at peace—for the first time in weeks.
Movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention, I turned my head and found Hayes leaning against the doorjamb.
He was wearing a pair of jeans, unbuttoned, and nothing else.
His arms were folded over his bare chest, his golden skin bright and warm in the morning light.
The long strands of hair at the top of his head were wild and his eyes were on me, alert and burning.
“Good morning,” I murmured, my mouth watering.
He slept on the couch again last night.
I hadn’t wanted him to.
I’d wanted him in my bed, but when I tried to lead him there, he’d put his hands on my hips, kissed me softly, and told me to get some rest.
“You sleep well?” he asked as my eyes trailed over the scruff growing along his strong jaw.
He looked messy—wild. Everything that Hayes wasn’t.
I nodded, sitting up on my elbows. “How about you?”
No response, just a jumping jaw.
Rolling my eyes, I fell back into my mountain of pillows, drowning in different shades of purple. “I told you that even though my couch is gorgeous and great for lounging, it isn’t great for anything other than extended naps.”
“Didn’t have a choice.”
I shot up then, my hair coming around my shoulders as I pointed at him. “Don’t you fucking dare, Top Gun.” I laughed at the scowl on his face. “I offered my bed to you last night and you said—”
“I would’ve fucked you until the sun came up and you needed your sleep,” he said simply.
My mouth snapped shut and my arm fell onto the comforter. My nipples pebbled under my tee, my breaths shortening. “You—you would’ve—”
“Fucked. You,” he repeated, his body tense.
I bit my lip, my core clenching with need, my clit tingling.
My eyes dropped to his jeans, finding a bulge.
He was big, bigger than any other man I’d slept with before him.
He had a powerful body, and he knew how to use it.
The memory of the way he fucked me that night came rushing forth, riding on the wave of desire that threatened to drown me, to swallow me whole.
I was ready to get lost in it, to get lost in him.
“I wished you would’ve stayed that night,” I rasped, my voice thick, my cheeks hot. My eyes met his dilated ones. “I wanted you to fuck me in the sunlight the next morning. I wanted to see how bright your green eyes got while you moved inside me.”
His eyes closed, his nostrils flaring. “Fucking hell. You’re going to kill me, Temper.”
I pushed the blankets away slowly, revealing my legs.
My hands shook as I hooked my fingers under the edge of my shirt and pulled it over my head.
The cool air from the fan hit my skin, goose bumps rising on my breasts, puckered nipples, and soft tummy.
I fell back into the pillows, hooking my thumbs under the sides of my pink thong.
I paused, curled my legs, and looked at him.
My Superman was one second away from becoming untethered, his breaths slow and feral, jaw jumping, arms at his sides now. His eyes weren’t on my nearly naked body. No, they were on me, addiction shining within his dark pools of hidden truths and fearful secrets.
“No,” I whispered, “I have a feeling I’m going to save you.”
“Margo—” He cut himself off as I shimmied out of my thong.
As I dropped it onto the floor, I let my legs fall open, revealing everything to him.
His eyes left my face then, landing on my butterfly, dropping to my breasts, studying each one for a moment, trailing down my navel before finally landing on my damp core.
“Baby,” he whispered.
“I lied,” I whispered back. “I lied when I said I wasn’t yours.”
He pushed off the wall.
“I am yours,” I continued, palming my left breast, pinching the nipple. “I was yours the day you saved my life.”
He was standing at the edge of the bed now. “I was yours the second I laid eyes on you,” he whispered earnestly as he dropped to his knees. Before I could reply, he yanked me to the edge and put his face in my pussy, his tongue landing on my clit.
I moaned, my back snapping as I arched, knees curling, toes curling, my fingers curling into his hair. He growled against my center, his hands hooking around my thighs, guiding them over his shoulders as he kissed and nibbled the insides of my thighs. My clit was throbbing. “Hayes,” I breathed.
“Made a mistake leaving you that night,” he bit off just before the tip of his tongue flicked my clit again. “Made a mistake leaving the only bed I’ve ever been comfortable in.”
I stiffened, my eyes shooting open at his admission.
He didn’t give me a chance to process it.
He latched on, sucking the oversensitive bundle of nerves until I saw white spots in my vision, small waves of pleasure hitting me.
He kissed, sucked, and fucked me with his tongue, growling my name in worship, consuming me in a way I needed to be consumed.
He was gentle yet overpowering. Dark yet light.
My hero and my captor. Promising but damning in every sense of the word.
My hips began to rock against him as I cried out for the mercy he wasn’t willing to give.
Not now. Not when I was his again. He dragged his tongue from my entrance to the tip of my clit before pulling back, leaving me on the edge.
“No!” I cried, sweating and panting.
I looked down at him, across my sea of colors, finding his green, his gold, his purity, his goodness. He chuckled, unhooking a hand from my thigh. A second later, I felt him push a finger into me. He leaned back, watching his hand move, his chest heaving. “Please,” I begged. “Please, Superman.”
“Don’t call me that when I make you come,” he ordered, adding a second finger, curling them both. I felt a strange pressure inside, my walls fluttering. “You say my real name when you come for me.”
“What?” I gasped, the pressure building. My head fell back, my eyes rolling. “Hayes, what are you doing to me?”
His hand kept moving, fucking me rapidly. “Making you feel good. Stop being a brat and let me, yeah?”
“I—I—oh, God!” A raw moan left me as the pressure became too much, morphing into a pleasure I’d never known. I lifted my head, eyes wide, watching his jaw go slack, eyes on my cunt. “Hayes!”
“Yeah, fuck yeah,” he grunted as a rush of warmth flooded out, a clear liquid covering his arm.
“That’s so fucking good,” he growled, his upper lip curling as he pulled his fingers out and shoved them back in.
My legs began to shake as he repeated the movement.
His mouth was back on me, my head was pressing into the mattress as a second climax overwhelmed me.
I cried out, moaning, whimpering. My fingers pulled his hair, not to push him back but to pull him back into me.
My hips moved on their own, grinding into his face.
He groaned, pulling his hand away from my thigh.
I heard his zipper go down and I lifted my head, panting at the sight of both his arms moving.
One hand fucking me, the other fucking himself.
“Yes,” I hissed. “Please fuck your hand for me.” I felt his teeth then, nibbling at my clit, goose bumps covering me.
Another one was coming. He growled against me, then his arms started moving faster.
I wanted to see it. I needed to see it. My hips stopped moving, and he pulled his fingers out of me, his head snapping up.
“Stand up and let me see it,” I commanded breathlessly. “I need to see it.”