Chapter Three #2
Until my breasts were crushed to his chest, making them suddenly feel hyper-sensitive and heavy.
Until his pelvis was against mine, making me have to actively fight not to let my legs butterfly open so he could slip between.
Until his spicy scent was overwhelming me.
Until he was pulling back and his hands were roaming all over me, making me momentarily incapable of doing anything but feel those giant palms sliding over my neck, chest, hips, legs, even grazing beneath my breasts.
Desire hadn’t just stirred.
It had pooled.
My blood hummed.
Need fluttered.
Every nerve ending felt like it was sparking, each cell aching.
Had it been a while for me?
Fine, yes.
But still.
An insane reaction.
To a club member, no less.
All because he’d saved my life.
My mind whipped from desire to the panic of seeing that muzzle tip, to imagining a dozen bullets lodged in my body, to bleeding out in agony, to slowly drifting out of consciousness, never to awaken again.
A strange little whimpering sound escaped me as I realized just how close I’d come to dying, to leaving my parents to grieve me.
“Gracie,” Perish’s voice called, softer than I’d ever heard it. A man his size shouldn’t be capable of softness like that. Or the gentle way his hand reached out to settle on my shoulder, fingers curling in, offering comfort.
I didn’t fight the urge to turn, to lean into him. There was no one else around to seek comfort from. And everything in me was crying out for a hug.
For a long moment, even as my arms wound around him, that Perish stood there with both arms held outward from his body. Like I was a bomb. Like I was too delicate to touch.
But slowly but surely, I felt the tension sliding out of his body. Then one hand slipped around my hips, holding me to him. The other followed, moving across my back, his warm skin teasing the bare skin of my back through the tiny straps.
“You’re alright,” he said in that deep, rough voice of his. “Wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.”
“What if you weren’t so close?”
“I was.”
“What if you went home earlier?”
“I didn’t.”
“What if I was—”
“You weren’t. Stop this,” he demanded, but his voice was gentle enough that the words lost their sting. “What-ifs ain’t gonna help anything. You’re okay. Everyone’s okay.”
Logically, I knew he was right.
But sometimes my mind liked to kick up worst-case scenarios until they became a tornado that swept me up with it. And there was nothing I could do but try to hold on until the winds lost their strength and dropped me down, dizzy and exhausted.
Surprisingly, tears didn’t come.
And, well, I was a cryer.
Old people eating alone at restaurants? Tears. Videos of kids getting the puppy they always wanted? Tears. Anger? Tears. Frustration? Tears. Joy? Tears. I was a tear-producing machine. I never ran dry. Until right then when I had a real, legitimate reason to be blubbering.
I sucked in a deep breath, breathing in Perish’s cologne, feeling almost dizzy with it as that thrumming sensation moved through me again.
I needed to step away.
To put that shield up between us that had always been there. The absolute last thing I needed in my life at the moment was to have confusing feelings about a club member who was completely off-limits.
Did I do that, though?
Nope. Of course not.
I leaned deeper into him.
I bit back a little moan as his arms instinctively tightened around me.
God, I missed this.
I wasn’t even sure I’d ever had this. But that base, primal part of me had been craving exactly this without ever realizing it: feeling safe and protected in a strong man’s arms. Knowing that so long as I stayed just like this, nothing bad could ever happen to me.
Then, as I leaned into that comfort, Perish had to go ahead and let one of his hands drift up to gently knead the back of my neck, working loose knots I swear I’d been born with.
And, well, after that initial tenderness faded, it felt good. Good enough that a little, well, moan escaped me.
I was close enough to Perish to feel the way his breath caught at the sound, to notice that his arm around my waist almost seemed to shake with… what? The urge to release me? Or, dare I even think it, touch me?
Before I could find out which it might be, though, someone was clearing their throat.
We broke apart like guilty teenagers caught necking on the living room couch when we thought our parents were asleep. Not speaking from experience here. I’d never been bold enough to sneak a boy into my house. But Layna had stories.
We turned in unison to find not just Matteo Grassi standing there, as we might expect, but his older brother Luca as well.
He’d likely just been waiting for all the cops to clear out before he showed up.
I was a little surprised at myself that I thought the questioning portion of the night was over. This was mob territory. Of course the boss of the family would want to talk to us.
I was finding it impossible to find words as I was currently dying of embarrassment for getting caught in a club member’s arms. Even if I knew there was no way the Grassi brothers could know what kind of wicked, raunchy fantasies my mind was cooking up.
Including one that may or may not have included one of those vibrators in the box of unneeded party favors near the door.
Luckily, Perish wasn’t so afflicted.
“Tell me you got them on the cameras.”
“We caught the car,” Luca confirmed. “But no plates and no faces.”
“Cops were pissed as fuck that you claimed there were no cameras,” Perish said.
“We’re not in the habit of letting the law handle our problems for us,” Luca said with a shrug.
Perish nodded at that. “You have any idea who this was? Fallon is gonna have questions. Not to mention her old man,” he said with a nod toward me.
Oh, God.
Yeah.
My parents were going to freak out. If they weren’t already losing their minds. Someone at the club was usually keeping an ear out for any local police activity. And my mom would know that I had an event at this place.
“We don’t have any known active threats,” Luca said. “But…” He waved a hand out.
But there was no such thing as safety when you ran the docks. When you imported and exported all sorts of contraband for different criminal organizations.
“We will be looking into it, of course. And we will share any pertinent information with Fallon as it comes in,” Luca assured Perish. “Gracie, can I give you a ride home?” he asked, making me jump at being addressed suddenly.
“Oh, I—”
“I’m taking her,” Perish insisted.
“I have my car,” I piped in. “And all of this to pack up,” I added, waving at the boxes of items and food.
“I can have someone drive your car back to the clubhouse,” Matteo offered.
I could have fought.
But I knew men like this far too well.
It was easier just to go along with things.
“Okay,” I agreed, unclipping my keychain from my purse and handing it to Matteo.
“I’m so sorry about all this, Gracie,” he said.
“It’s okay,” I said, shrugging.
“Ready?” Perish asked.
To wrap my arms and legs around him while trying not to act like it was doing things to me? Not remotely.
“Yeah.”