Frustration swirled in my belly, up my throat, and it took all my bandwidth not to curse the guy out on the phone.
“You told me you were sending an agent this morning. Well, I’m here, and now you’re calling at the appointment time telling me you have to reschedule?” I seethed.
“Ma’am, I’m very sorry. It was a last-minute change and—”
“When’s the next available day someone can come out and assess the damage?” I demanded.
“Unfortunately, we’re booked the next two weeks. Do you want the next available appointment, or do you have a specific date in mind?”
I took a deep breath so I wouldn’t blow a gasket. “I’ll take the next available appointment.”
When I hung up, I tamped down the urge to throw my phone. I’d hauled my ass out of bed at the crack of dawn, and instead of spending the morning working on Imogene’s cake, I got stuck in traffic trying to get to the bakery to meet the insurance company agent and they had cancelled the appointment at the exact time it was supposed to begin.
Slash had followed me on his bike, and he was currently leaning against it in the parking lot, soaking up the warm morning sun.
I got out of the car and went to him.
“They on their way?” he asked.
“The fuckers canceled.”
I couldn’t see his eyes behind his aviators, but his jaw clenched. “Text me the name of your agent, number and the insurance company.”
I didn’t bother asking him why.
“They want to waste your fucking time, then I’ll make their life hell. You pay them for a Goddamn reason. They don’t get to fuck with you.”
“Don’t get me riled,” I said. “I’m already riled.” I quickly texted him the information. “By the way, any word about Kurt?”
“Still don’t have a lock on that. But I don’t want you to worry about it. I’ll handle it. You trust me?”
I nodded.
“Good.” He leaned in to kiss me. “I’ll be at the hotel by the time you’re done, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
My blood still hadn’t cooled by the time I made it to The Rex. I was several hours behind and would need to put in a brutal day, but I was fueled by anger, so I was glad for something to keep me busy.
“Should I get out the vanilla extract?” Waverly asked.
I nodded, my jaw clamped.
Her eyes immediately dimmed.
“Hey.” I sighed. “It’s not you. I’ve had a rotten morning.”
She smiled tentatively. “Okay.”
“Are you ready to learn how to make a tiered wedding cake?”
“Really? You trust me enough to let me help with the cake?”
“You’ve got steady hands,” I said with a grin. “You’ll either become a doctor or a cake decorator.”
“Ew, not a doctor. The idea of surgery wigs me out.”
Willa and Duke were side by side, standing close enough that their elbows were brushing. I discreetly looked at Savage who was with them, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“No Jazz today?” Darcy asked.
“No. She’s dealing with some personal stuff,” I said. “Brielle is with her.”
“Judging by your mood when you blew in here, I’m guessing the meeting with the insurance agent didn’t go well?”
“It didn’t go at all,” I grumbled. “Assholes canceled on me last minute.” I hastily looked at Waverly. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For saying a curse word.”
“Asshole is barely even a curse word,” Waverly said.
“Waverly,” Willa snapped. “Don’t use that kind of language.”
“Why not?” Waverly demanded. “You say fuck all the time.”
“Waverly! Stop. I’m an adult. You, are not,” she pointed out.
Before the two sisters got into it in the middle of the kitchen, I said, “Waverly, I need the vanilla. Let’s get going on this masterpiece.”
“Dear God, almighty,” I moaned as Slash rubbed the arch of my foot. “You can have whatever you want.”
“Can I now?” he growled.
I opened my eyes and stared at him. “What is it you want, Slash?”
His hand slid up my foot to my calf, and higher still, until he was clasping the meaty part of the back of my thigh that was almost the curve of my butt.
“Oh,” I said with a sigh as sparks flickered between my legs in anticipation.
He gently set my foot aside and stood, reaching a hand out to help me up. I rose and he brought me flush with his body, which was taut with muscle.
I placed my hand on his chest, and my fingers curled into his pec. He stepped away from me so he could lift his shirt over his head.
His body made my breath hitch. The ink and muscles on display had me quivering. I moved toward him and set my lips against his skin, and then I kissed my way down his flat stomach. I dropped to my knees and went for his belt buckle. I unclasped it, popped the button of his jeans, and then lowered his fly. I gently took him out, gripping him in my hand. He was big and thick, and he made my mouth water.
I slid my lips over his crown, taking him deep into my mouth until he hit the back of my throat. I loved the taste of him, and I loved it when he threaded his fingers through my hair and threw his head back while I let him fuck my mouth.
It was primal and I was delirious with want.
He wouldn’t let me finish him, and he popped out of my mouth and then reached down to help me off the floor. Slash grasped the back of my neck and hauled me toward him. His lips seized mine, drugging and devouring, his tongue pushing into my mouth, taking everything I had to offer.
Slash lifted his head, his eyes glittering with craving. Slash guided us into the bedroom and to the bed, and then he shoved his pants down, underwear and all. Slash was sleek muscle and rough beauty. The hard life of a Nomad, of riding a motorcycle for years in the sun, had tanned and honed him in a way that made lesser men seem soft.
With his eyes still on me, I slowly removed my clothes and then spread my legs wide, giving him an unencumbered view.
He grasped himself, giving his erection a squeeze. And then he crawled onto the bed to hover over me.
“How do you want it, Brooklyn?” he rasped.
Slash placed one hand on the inside of my thigh and brushed me with his thumb.
I sucked in a breath. “Cock,” I whispered.
He leaned over and took a nipple between his lips. Pleasure zinged to my core when he nipped and tugged, sucking the crest into his mouth. While Slash lavished my breast, his thumb pressed against my cleft again, causing my back to bow off the bed.
I didn’t want to wait any longer. “Slash,” I begged. “Please.”
“Please what?” he growled, his face still close to my breast, his thumb still against me.
“I want you inside me.”
He sucked my nipple one last time and then slid his hands beneath me. Slash teased at my entrance and then he slammed into me, filling me completely. He stretched me wide, and I could feel every hard inch of him.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded.
My eyelids flipped open, and I stared into his eyes as he drilled into me. I wrapped my legs around him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Slash ground his pelvis and hit that perfect spot. I let out a scream as my orgasm washed over me. He pulled out before I was done quivering.
He rubbed my hip. “Flip over for me, baby. Get on all fours.”
Mindless and languid, but still wanting more, I did as I was bid. He leaned over me to reach for the nightstand. He pulled open the drawer and took out a bottle of lube and my vibrator.
“We’ll go slow,” he said gruffly. “You say stop, we stop.”
I nodded and gripped the comforter in anticipation. I heard the squirt of liquid from the bottle and then Slash gently put a finger between my cheeks. He teased my back entrance but didn’t enter.
He withdrew his touch. Slash picked up the vibrator and slathered it with lube.
“Pleasure yourself,” he said, handing it to me.
I took the device from him and slid it between my legs. My body accepted it easily and I let out a shaky breath when I turned it on. It pulsed and rotated inside me, and I was consumed. So consumed, I hardly noticed when Slash slid a finger into me. It felt strange, unusual, but not unpleasant.
“Easy,” he said. “Breathe in.”
I inhaled and he pushed his knuckle in farther.
The vibrator was hitting all the right spots, but it wasn’t dialed up enough to make me come.
Slash worked his finger in and out of me, slowly, with care. Soon, the uncomfortable feeling was gone, replaced with a need to be filled by him.
As I was writhing from the vibrator, Slash removed his finger. I felt him move behind me, and then the crown of his shaft touched my entrance. He guided himself in, achingly slow, stopping every few seconds.
My entire body was flushed and tingly. The back of my neck was hot, and I felt like I had a fever. I was swollen and achy.
“Come for me, woman.”
With a strangled cry, I came around the vibrator. As I was moaning my release, Slash slid all the way into me.
I was full. Impossibly full. Despite coming hard twice already, I was a bow string ready to snap. I felt him everywhere, and when he gripped my hips and started to fuck me, I mewled like an animal in heat.
Our skin heated and I lost track of time as pleasure dowsed every nerve ending. I was mindless, delirious. I came again and nearly collapsed on the bed, but Slash’s grip held me up.
“I’m coming,” he growled against my back and then he slammed into me one final time. He pumped his hips, his thighs hitting the back of my legs.
I turned off the vibrator and gently eased it out.
He kissed the lower part of my shoulder blade and then slid from me.
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
“I just did.”
I looked at him over my shoulder. His forehead was damp with sweat and his eyes were bright.
“That was…yeah.”
“So you liked it?”
“Like you even have to ask.” I snorted.
“I do have to ask,” he said, not a trace of humor lurking on his lips. “Because you’re my woman and I need to make sure you’re taken care of.”
My gaze softened and I reached out to cradle his cheek. “That was perfect. And it was everything I didn’t know I wanted, but I did.”
He turned his head and kissed my palm.
“I think I need another shower,” I said. “I’m a bit sticky.”
“You, all wet and soapy? Yeah, I’d enjoy that.” He hoisted himself off the bed. “Seriously, though. You okay?”
I sighed and nodded. “I’m okay. I’ll probably be a bit sore, but I guess that’s just the price I have to pay.”
He leaned down and kissed my lips. “I’ll get the shower going.”
Nodding, I sat for a moment on the bed to get my bearings. Slash was already in the shower when I entered the bathroom. We’d already showered once together—after I’d finished work—so this would just be a quick rinse.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror, noting my bright eyes and easy smile. I turned sideways and slid my hand down my body to rest against the gentle swell just above my pubic bone.
“Little acorn,” I murmured.
“You say something?” Slash asked.
“Oh. I was…I was talking to the baby.” I opened the glass door of the shower and stepped onto the warm ceramic tile floor.
“What were you saying?” Slash asked. He rinsed his hair and shook his head before grasping my hips and guiding me under the spray.
“I was calling it a little acorn.” I bit my lip, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I know the standard is to call it a peanut, but…”
“But?” he prodded.
“My dad used to call me acorn. It’s silly. Never mind.”
“Why’d he call you acorn?” Slash asked, not letting me change the subject.
I reached for the soap and began to make a lather. “One day when I was little, I was feeling like the world was too big and I didn’t know how I was going to find my way in it. Dad picked up an acorn and handed it to me. He pointed to an oak tree and said, ‘How does something so big start from something so small? The package doesn’t matter, does it? The acorn knows it’s supposed to turn into a tree. You’re small now, but one day you won’t be. One day you’ll just know what to do.”
I smiled at him. “I was thinking about getting an acorn tattoo.” I pointed to the spot behind my ear. “Just there.”
“You said you’d never thought about getting a tattoo.”
“I wasn’t ready to tell you what I wanted marked on my body.”
He nodded.
I traced the inked clock heart on his chest. “I wish you’d tell me what they mean.”
“They mean you’ve got to go on living, even when there are times in your life you wish you were dead.”
I flinched. “Slash…”
“I’ve got a past, Brooklyn,” he said tightly. “Please don’t ask me to relive it.”