Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Slayer
The sheer weight of the choice Jersey just made settles over the room like a thick fog, heavy and absolute.
I’ve witnessed hardened men buckle under a hell of a lot less pressure, but the woman standing in front of me has found a steel resolve that has my blood humming with a fierce, possessive pride.
She didn’t just give us the green light, she reclaimed her own life from the motherfuckers who’ve spent years trying to pick her soul clean.
I watch Booker shut down the laptop, the finality of the click sounding like the hammer of a gun cocking in the quiet of the trailer.
“Consider it handled,” Booker grunts, standing up and snagging his tablet.
He doesn’t offer any specifics, and I don’t ask for them.
We have specialists for this kind of work, Icer and Shade, men who exist in the periphery of the club’s business to handle the trash the law is too damn soft to touch.
I step toward Jersey, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her into me.
I bury my face in her hair, inhaling that sweet, flowery perfume, and vow that the next time she hears from her sperm donor and incubator, it’ll be the last. The Dragons might be our primary focus, but tonight, I’ve helped my woman win the battle that’s been raging in her head since she was a kid.
“I gave you my word they wouldn’t breathe down your neck anymore, Jersey, and I’m gonna see that through no matter what it takes to make it that way,” I rumble against her skin, the words a lethal decree.
“I believe you, but I don’t want to hear about how it’s done,” she remarks.
“Wasn’t planning on it, baby. From here on out, this isn’t your burden to carry. We good?”
“We’re good,” she whispers her response.
“I’ve got some down time, you’ve got some down time, what are we going to do with all of this time on our hands, Jersey girl?
” I ask her, my voice dropping to a gravelly octave that vibrates in the small space between us.
My eyes leave hers, dropping from her lips to the swell of her luscious breasts, the rapid rise and fall of her chest telling me she’s just as affected as I am.
The atmosphere in the trailer shifts, the heavy, suffocating tension of her parents and the dangerous club business melting away to be replaced by a thick, pulsating heat that has my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
I’ve spent too much of my life fighting other people’s wars, living in the grit and the shadows, but tonight, I simply want to be her man.
I want to love her, possess her, cherish her, and make her scream my name until the world outside these gates ceases to exist.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she whispers, her voice dropping to a seductive octave that has my blood humming with a dangerous, expectant heat.
She drifts even nearer, that intoxicating, flowery perfume of hers swirling around us and clouding my senses.
“How exactly would you propose we occupy ourselves, Slayer?” Her fingers, delicate and warm against the waistband of my jeans, slide from my hip to the zipper, cupping me with a brazen confidence that nearly snaps the very last of my restraint.
This move is a definitive green light, a signal that the woman I crave with every ounce of oxygen in my lungs wants the same thing as me.
“Let’s finish this in the bedroom, baby,” I rasp, the gravelly edge in my voice leaving no room for debate.
I lean down and effortlessly sweep her up into my arms, the sudden movement causing her to let out a giddy squeal.
I don’t wait for her to answer, my focus already locked on the absolute claim I’m about to stake on her body and soul.
I haul her across the floor, the wood groaning under the weight of a man who’s finally found the one thing in this chaotic world worth more than the leather patch on his back.
Our eyes stay glued to each other as I breach the doorway of our bedroom, but this time, we don’t make it to the bed before the sexual tension between us snaps.
She runs her hands through my hair and leans forward to whisper in my ear, “I hear wall sex is hot.” My eyes cross as her hot breath hits the nape of my neck and shivers race up and down my spine.
Every muscle in my body coils with a primal, focused energy as her words sink in.
Without breaking our gaze, I spin her around and press her back firmly against the wood of the door, the impact causing a low, breathy gasp to escape her lips.
My hands find her hips, securing her in place as I dip my head to find the sensitive skin of her shoulder, tracing a path of heat that has her arching toward me.
The air in the room is thick with our shared anticipation, a heavy, pulsating current that drowns out the rest of the compound.
I lift her higher, her legs instinctively lock around my waist as I prepare to show her exactly how hot wall sex can be.
“We always seem to find ourselves in the same predicament, Jersey,” I murmur, my lips trailing from the hollow of her collarbone to the sensitive skin underneath her ear.
I can feel the heat radiating from her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt, and every shallow breath I pull in is saturated with the scent of her floral perfume—a fragrance that has become my absolute addiction.
“What’s that?” she asks, her voice dropping to a breathy whisper that vibrates against my chest like a physical touch.
She tilts her head up, exposing the long, elegant column of her neck and giving me a better angle to explore the soft skin there.
Her eyes have darkened to a deep, stormy gray, burning with a mirroring hunger that tells me the shy teacher is finally giving way to the wanton woman who belongs to me.
“We’re both wearing too many clothes,” I respond as I slowly let her glide down the length of my body so we can rectify that problem, and the friction of her curves against my dick has my eyes crossing as a primal roar of need ignites in my gut.
“Fuck,” I growl, the word barely escaping through my clenched teeth.
She shivers, but it isn’t from the cold.
She lightly shoves me back, her movements fluid and purposeful as she whips her top over her head and flings it across the room without a second thought.
My shy Jersey girl has completely transformed into a vixen right before my eyes.
I watch, mesmerized, as she agonizingly removes her bra before lifting her legs, one at a time, to remove her shoes and socks.
“Are you going to join me or stand there and watch me?” she asks, her voice dropping to a seductive purr that sounds nothing like the shy educator and everything like a sex kitten.
“I’m enjoying the show,” I murmur, my own voice a rough, rusty rasp.
I finally find the mental strength to move, letting my cut slide off my shoulders with a heavy thud.
I take the time to fold it with practiced care, laying the sacred leather across the dresser as I prepare to bridge the distance between us.
“You have the rest of our lives to get your fill, Slayer. But right now, you have a promise to keep,” she saucily replies, her eyes burning with a mirroring hunger that tells me the wait is finally over.
With a speed that puts the Flash to shame, I remove the rest of my clothes and leap for her, the primal need to have her skin against mine overriding everything else.
I lift her into my arms as I slam her back against the wall, the impact muffled by her soft gasps.
Her pants are hanging off of her ankle, caught in our frantic rush, but I pay them no mind as I focus on the heat of her.
I use my thumb to rub against her clit, the slick friction of her desire making my head spin, before shoving a finger deep inside of her and finding her G-spot with a precision that has her head falling back against the sheetrock paneling.
“Yes,” she moans, the sound vibrating through my chest as her hips begin a frantic, instinctive swivel against my hand.
I continue to add pressure, my focus fixated on the way her breath hitches and her fingers dig into my shoulders.
“Shit, I’m gonna come.” She’s hovering on the edge, her body trembling with the force of the climax I’m coaxing from her.
“That’ll be the first of many tonight, Jersey.
I guarandamntee it.” I watch the waves of pleasure hit her, her internal muscles clenching around my finger as she shatters in my arms. I don’t let up, wanting to prolong the aftershocks and ensure she knows exactly who she belongs to.
The way she unravels for me, stripped of all those walls and the quiet hesitation she carries in the daylight, is the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever witnessed.
She isn't the shy teacher right now—she's my woman, vibrating with a need that I’m more than happy to satisfy.
When she slumps into my arms, her head resting on my shoulder, I check to make sure she's ready for me. As I pull my fingers from her sheath, her desire coats my fingers, letting me know that it’s safe for me to slide home.
She’s slick, welcoming, and the scent of her arousal is a primal call I can no longer ignore.
I notch my dick with her entrance and slide in until I’m balls deep, the tight, silk-lined heat of her swallowing me whole and finally making me feel like I’ve reached the center of my own universe.
Every muscle in my body coils with the intensity of the connection, a visceral grounding that settles the detritus of my past and the uncertainty of our future.
She undoes me like no woman before her has ever done.
I find that I lose control with her more often than not when the caveman inside of me needs to stake his claim.
“Fuck,” I hiss, the word escaping me as a gravelly rasp when I pull back only to bury myself deep inside her again.
“Fuck, Jersey. You feel so damn good, baby.” I can feel the frantic, pulsating thrum of her heart against my neck as she anchors herself to me, her legs fastening around my waist to draw me even further into her heat.
This isn’t just about the carnal release anymore—it’s about the total, absolute claim I’m staking on her heart and soul.
Every rhythmic thrust is a silent decree, a lethal promise that as long as I’m still standing, she’ll never have to go looking for another hiding place.
The world outside these thin trailer walls, with the Dragons and the impending federal heat, can wait until morning.
Right now, there is only this fire, this woman, and the undeniable truth that she is finally, irrevocably home.
With possession on my mind, I roar out my release as she clamps down on me.
The sheer intensity of our connection shatters the last of my control as her internal muscles ripple around me, drawing every ounce of my essence into her heat as she climaxes.
I bury my face in the crook of her neck, my breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches.
We stay like that for a bit, the very air we breathe becoming electric as she traces a pattern along my back, soothing my erratic heartbeat. “I love you, Jersey girl,” I declare.
A sob gets caught in her throat as she whisperingly says, “I love you too, Slayer.”