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Holy wipes his mouth on the hem of my shirt before rolling to my side to sprawl out in the bed. I stare at his many tattoos wondering if any of them have a special meaning or if he got them because he thought they made him look cool or tough. Like the pistol and skull on his right pec.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Don’t you want me to...you know do you too?”
“Whiskey dick,” he mutters.
“Oh. So that means you can’t perform?”
“Weed and whiskey, babe. Good as I know your pussy’ll be wrapped around my dick, I know my limits. Won’t stay hard long enough to give you any real satisfaction. All I’ll manage to do is piss myself off and disappoint you.”
“Sounds like a challenge.”
“Get some sleep. We gotta haul ass to get back tomorrow. If I’m late Murder will have my balls.”
I turn on my side as best I can without pulling too hard on my cuffed wrist. “Murder?”
“Your uncle, that’s his road name.”
“You said he’s the prez, but the guy at the bar had a president patch. How does that work?”
“He’s the prez of this chapter. Best way to explain it is we all belong to Royal Bastards MC. The head honcho is Jameson. He’s the prez of the mother chapter, but other clubs in other cities have a prez that members answer to if they belong to that particular club. Murder, your uncle is the prez in West Virginia.”
Biker life is confusing. “So, he’s like your boss. But here the guy at the bar is in charge?”
“Yup.”
“What are you, like a headhunter or something?”
“Nope. I’m the chaplain.”
“So, you’re like their priest?” I laugh. The thought has me erupting in a fit of giggles. There is nothing pure about him. I can’t fathom it.
“Babe. Not really. I give counsel. One of the brothers is having an issue they come to me, and I advise them.”
“You’re their therapist?”
“Enough about club shit.”
I lick my lips. A different topic has my curiosity piqued. One thing I know about bikers is they are known to keep a harem of slutty women. Women who are ready and willing to do whatever they are told. No questions asked. “Are you seeing anyone?” I phrase the inquiry as delicately as I can without being overly obvious.
“Looking at you right now.”
“Lame. If that’s a pickup line that was terrible. You know what I mean. Are you with anyone?”
“Nah.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Nothing serious.”
“Ah. There is someone then.”
“How about you stop running your mouth unless you’re going to wrap those lips around my dick.” He grins. I allow him the subject change, but it doesn’t ease my concerns.
“You said you have whiskey cock or whatever.”
“You’ve killed my buzz now. I think my ol’ buddy can be persuaded to perform with enough effort.”
“Your ol’ buddy. Really of all the things to call your dick that’s what you pick?” I roll my eyes.
He shrugs. “You’re old friends.”
“Oh my god. I can’t with you.”
“Any chance you’re going to shut up and suck my dick?”
“Seriously?” Ugh. Men.
“Good night, Hazel.” He chuckles.
“I can’t sleep like this. My hand is numb. At least I don’t know cuff me to you. That way I can at least move around and not lose all feeling in my arm please.”
He grunts, making an annoyed sound from deep in the back of his throat.
“Pretty please with strawberries and whip cream on top.” I pout. “Bennnniiii,” I drag his name out in a whiny tone.
“Fine.” He rolls out of bed and digs around in his jean pocket.
I should be focused on distracting him or getting him asleep so I can get his stupid key and get the fuck out of here.
If I were smart the moment he uncuffs me, I’d try to knock him out or take his gun. I know he is carrying one. Only there’s this part of me that wants to run away with him. See if we can start that beautiful life we always dreamed of. Lying in this bed, being with him, I’m terrified to hope for something good and yet terrified to lose him now that he’s back. I’m driving myself crazy.
I stare at him wondering how I didn’t pick up on his identity within five seconds of meeting him.
Holy and my Beni are the same person. The same tortured soul. The boy who loved me. Who promised me the world. The man offering to give it to me if I let down my guard and trust him to deliver. He has the scars to prove his loyalty. That it was me he was devoted to. Me that he loved.
He stalks toward me shirtless and barefoot in only his jeans and the heavy silver diamond cross that hangs around his neck. Sexy, dominating, and damn him all to hell irresistible because I want him. He looms over me to remove the cuffs, and all I can think about is grabbing him by that damn cross and kissing him stupid. Sucking his cock so damn hard and deep that I’ll forever be the only woman he thinks of. Our connection, the attraction crackling between us is as strong as it ever was if not stronger now that we’re older. I keep trying to push him away out of fear of being hurt again.
I’ve built up this wall. A way of protecting myself by not needing anyone.
I have this fear of not being able to trust anyone. I second guess every choice I make.
I’d rather be alone than be abandoned again.
Only I can’t fight the way I feel under his gaze and his touch even though my instincts scream for me to run. Far and fast.
All this time has passed and yet here we are, hardly one day in of him in my life again and he’s rooted in my heart as though he never left.
The cuff releases and Holy brings my wrist to his lips, kissing the red, numb skin. “You going to behave?”
“I said I wouldn’t give you any more trouble.” I smirk and grab him by his belt buckle as I go to my knees. I want to lose control and do terrible, dirty, and beautiful things to this man. His body is about to be my wonderland. “Take these off.” I yank on the buckle and his jeans while licking my lips.
Holy caresses my cheek with one hand and holds my gaze while undoing his belt and pants one handed. I shove the denim down his thighs as his glorious cock juts out in my face. I ache to stroke, taste, and please him. To show him I’m sorry. To prove to him that he belongs to me. That no one could ever compare. We owe it to ourselves to explore whatever this is happening between us despite the strange circumstances that brought us back together.
I know he wants me.
I lick my palm and wrap it around the base of his thick, veiny length. A hiss passes through his lips. I want him moaning for me. I lick the tip before opening my mouth wider and accepting the intrusion of the bulbous head of his cock. I moan around him, stimulating his silken flesh with my tongue. He moves slowly, gliding his cock in and out of my mouth. “Eyes on mine. Wanna know you’re here with me. Don’t want your mind focused on anything but you and me. How soft and warm your mouth is. The taste of me on your tongue.”
He grabs the back of my neck holding me right where he wants me, increasing his pace, thrusting his hips faster going deeper to the back of my throat with every stroke.
I breathe out of my nose, tears forming in the creases of both eyes as I start to gag on him while he fucks my mouth.
“Fuck, Hazel. That’s it. Take me there. Fucking beautiful,” he praises.
I gag again as saliva gathers in my mouth only serving to make it easier for him to fuck my mouth faster and harder. I jerk my head, but he holds me steady refusing to give me a reprieve.
My lips burn to the point of going numb, but I don’t stop. I suck and lick, taking him fully. Tears stream down my cheeks. I’m determined to get him off this way. To be the one he thinks of when this is over because every good thing always comes to an end when you least expect them to. Salty, warm, and sticky Holy spurts down my throat. I’ve never swallowed for anyone but him.
“That’s my dirty girl.” Slow and methodical he eases out my mouth. The last of his cum dribbles from my lips and down my chin. He brushes the pearly beads away with the rough pad of his thumb.
A sated smile crosses his features.
He gives me a forehead kiss then releases me. “Let’s get some sleep.”
I settle on my side and Holy snuggles me from behind. “Sleeping the wrong way, Honey Bee.”
“Hmm?” I mumble as my eyelids flutter.
“Roll over. Legs wrapped around me, face buried in my neck, my hand over your heart.”
I can’t believe he remembers. It’s been so long ago I’ve nearly forgotten the routine myself.
The position we used to sleep in years ago whenever I’d crawl into his bed seeking the safety of his arms, trying to run from the demons that haunted my dreams. He’d hold me, stroking my hair, whispering about all the adventures we’d have. All the places we’d live. The food we’d eat. We were going to travel from town to town. City to city taking odd jobs before moving onto the next. In his arms I’d drift to sleep with visions of the life he promised.
There’s nothing left to do but give the man what he wants. I turn into him hooking a leg over his thigh, face shoved into his neck, and then as though we’ve slept this way all our lives his palm splays over my heart up under my shirt.
“Missed this,” he mutters. “Needed it,” he says, and I fall asleep with a smile on my face for the first time in what might be forever.
I don’t dream any dreams because right now I’m living in one. I’m in Beni’s arms and nothing has ever felt righter than this, than us. For tonight I let go. Everything I’ve ever wanted is within my grasp, all I have to do is reach out and hold on. His rugged and manly scent wraps around me. A sensation I haven’t experienced in so long fills me.
Unconditional love.