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Several hours later, Garvey was looking forward to a hot shower and some rest. His eyes felt like grit had been embedded under his eyelids. Kessler had come by to clean the cuts, thoroughly inspecting the wounds before he’d agreed with Kane’s initial assessment.
Mostly superficial, nothing that would require stitches. But he’d have new scars to add to the ones slashing across his torso. The burn had finally subsided, and thanks to the handful of pills the good doctor had given him, the only reminder of the damage was a slight ache if he turned the wrong way.
Once Kessler had left, Garvey had managed to convince Arden to go upstairs to get some sleep while he made a few phone calls to make sure his guys were all right. Watching and worrying about him would just irritate him. The threat of handcuffing her to the bedpost had finally convinced her he would be fine by himself for a short time.
By the time the police and fire department had arrived at the convention center, the members of Riding Irish were the only ones remaining. His guys had cleared the hall and taken the brunt of law enforcement’s questioning. They’d have one hell of a bill to pay once the tally came in, but it was a small price in comparison to what it could have been.
No lives had been lost.
He hadn’t even taken into consideration how some of the existing clubs would feel about their charter. It wasn’t as though they needed anyone’s permission to form up. And as far as Garvey was concerned, they hadn’t actively sought out members, hadn’t stolen them away from other clubs.
Obviously, some clubs felt strongly about their existence. Something he’d have to discuss with Boone and the others another time. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep.
As he swung open the door, he found his arms full of luscious female. Exhaustion melted away as she tightened her arms around his neck. As he kicked the door closed, he realized he needed to hold her as much as she needed to be held.
Her body hitched. Alarmed, he pried her chin away from his chest. The corners of her eyes were damp. He kissed away the wetness, pulling her legs around his waist as he walked over to the bed. He rained more kisses on her cheeks, jaw, neck, and then back to her lips. She parted her lips for him as he laid her on the bed and settled his weight over her.
He pushed back onto his knees, noting the worry in her eyes. Damn. She was really concerned about him. “Shh...not going anywhere.” He shucked his shirt and moved to undo his jeans.
“Let me.” She brushed his hands away, her knuckles grazing his abdomen as she grasped his waistband. He let her, wanting nothing between them but the heat of their desire. Just a man and a woman fucking away their needs after a tension-filled night. One that could have gone very differently.
She moved slowly, leaning forward to scrape her tongue against his hip as she pushed his jeans down. The large patch of gauze didn’t seem to faze her. She stopped at midthigh, glancing up the length of his body as she cupped his ass.
Eyes the color of roasted coffee beans peeked out from a fringe of dark brown. “As sexy as the bombshell look is”—he tugged away the wig—“I prefer you.” He pulled the pins free and listened to them hit the bare wood floor. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, a flowing river of silk that was still slightly damp from the sprinklers.
He fisted her hair at her nape and held her tightly in place as he leaned over and captured her mouth. The ache of his injuries melted as arousal soared. He broke away, panting as he fought to breathe deep.
She licked his abdomen again. When he hissed, she glanced up. “Maybe we should wait.”
“And maybe you should keep going. I’m fine,” he added when she hesitated.
She sank back, pulling him with her so he straddled her shoulders. After he maneuvered into position, she kissed the tip of his cock before sucking lightly on the end. Everything blurred as she spread her fingers wide against his hips, as she surrounded the entire crown with her mouth.
The room kaleidoscoped. He braced one hand on the wall, tangling his other in her hair and cradling her neck. She accepted his support as she tugged his hips closer. He slid deeper into her mouth as she used her tongue to play with the ridge of veins under the surface of his cock.
“That’s it, baby. Yes. Take me.”
Ever since that magnificent blowjob in his office, he’d discovered his fascination with watching her with his dick in her mouth.
She pushed and pulled, drawing him deeper every few strokes. Gray edged his vision when she sucked. But this time he welcomed his diminished sight.
“Ah, God, that’s good.”
She used her teeth to score him as he thrust deep and slow. He gripped tighter, giving an approving grunt when she flicked the broad head with a sweep of her tongue.
“Suck me harder. Oh, Jesus,” he muttered when she complied. She began making noises in the back of her throat, the vibrations wrapping around his shaft before constricting his balls.
His world shrank to where her mouth and throat surrounded him. “Fuck.”
With a low growl, he pushed back and hooked his hands under her arms. He hauled her up so they were pressed tight against one another. As he pushed her against the wall, he captured her mouth. She grunted against the force, greedily accepting his jerky movements.
He needed to be buried in her tight little heat. Thank God they’d had the no-condoms-necessary talk last week. The only barrier between them was her clothing. “Pants. Now.”
She popped the snap, wiggling her hips in an effort to remove her shorts. Impatient, he yanked them off and pushed her legs up to drive into her in one smooth motion.
As he impaled her, she clawed at his back, her nails marking his skin. Burying his face against her shoulder, he bit hard. Her inner walls spasmed around him as he held on, pumping into her over and over.
The muscles under his teeth tightened, her cry filling the air around them. His knee slipped on the pillow, pulling a snarl of frustration from his throat. No fucking leverage.
He fell back, taking her with him. As his back hit the mattress, he shoved up into her. She clutched at his arms, digging her fingernails into his biceps. Growling, she stripped away her jacket and shirt, snapping the catch on her bra to free her breasts. They swayed as she slammed her hips down as he levered up, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Her whole body froze for a moment, the muscles surrounding him clamping down so fiercely he nearly came. Then she started rocking her hips against his, grinding her cunt against his cock.
Watching her fuck him frantically, seeking out her release, was a thing of beauty. She bowed back, her pierced nipples pointing toward the ceiling and a sharp cry rained over him when she climaxed.
Oh. Fuck. Yeah.
He pulled her down. As her orgasm washed over him, he fastened his mouth against her breast. He clamped his teeth, tugging as she began to relax. The pain triggered another climax, and he had to hold on tight as she screamed and came again.
He dragged his tongue against the bite, feeling the impression of his teeth on her skin.
“Again,” she wailed, a fine sheen of sweat slicking her body. He moved to her nipple, bit, and she writhed against him. “Yes. Harder.”
Who was he to argue? He pulled more of her into his mouth, loving the taste of her as he sank his teeth into her skin. She sobbed his name, and, when she exploded this time, he relinquished control and followed her with a loud roar.
She collapsed against him, panting as her body continued to shake. Breathing hard and trying to collect his senses, he slid her next to him, quickly inspecting each of the bite marks.
Satisfied she was only bruised, he pulled her against his side. Wouldn’t do to have them both bloody. He was pretty sure he’d popped a few of Kessler’s carefully applied bandages during their fucking. Not that he cared. She’d bruise nicely and give them a nice visual for the next week.
They could heal together.
She shuddered, an aftershock passing through her as her adrenaline levels started to settle to normal. Watching her come through pain was never going to get old. Ever.
Garvey kissed her cheek and then put her head against his shoulder. He thought about the red marks he’d left on her porcelain-smooth skin. The way he’d felt when gunfire and fighting had erupted at the party.
“I’m going to be the only one who hurts you, Arden. The only one who brings you the pain you crave. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
She hummed against his flesh, her warm breath blowing across his chest. They lay like that for some time, until the light of day had dimmed the room to a hazy gray. Her breathing pattern had fallen into a rhythm, a sign she’d fallen asleep.
He turned on his side, facing her, and closed his eyes to follow.
Just as he started to drift, she sighed, scooting closer to him. “I love you, Garvey McShea.”
