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When Arden had called Garvey to let him know they’d solved the programming error, she hadn’t expected him to bark at her to stay put. But as soon as he’d pulled up to the curb at the office in a large black van, she’d known something wasn’t right.
When he’d whisked her away to a secluded beach house on the north side of the island, and didn’t want to listen to what they’d discovered about the programming glitches, she’d assumed he’d lost his mind.
By the time he’d finished explaining what had gone down with Camino de Santiago, she knew Garvey had painted a great big target on his back. A fact that didn’t seem to bother him in the least.
“And then the packs tripped.” Garvey pantomimed an explosion. “Boom,” he whispered, wiggling his fingers. For anyone else, she would have thought the glassy eyes and abject delight meant they’d become unhinged.
Arden grimaced. “You know you just opened a can of worms. I may not understand all this biker-club brotherhood crap, but I get revenge. Saw it firsthand enough in Langley.”
Garvey dropped his hands. “If Javier had left it alone with the confrontation at Shark’s Cove with Rawls and Swagger, that might have been the end of things. I probably wouldn’t have given him a second thought. But he took it one step further when he shot up the fundraiser. There were clubs there that have no dog in this fight. That’s personal.”
Arden understood personal too. And she understood that Garvey felt as though he needed to do something because the members of the club needed action instead of words. “Sounds like there’s more there. Maybe just more than severing the Nightmarchers connection. Though I can’t imagine anything else. Then again, I’m not a biker.”
“Could be more there. I plan on reaching out to a few of the other clubs to get more information. See if they have more information on what is going on.”
Arden rubbed at the line that had formed between her eyebrows. “Please tell me you did that before you went all kamikaze on them.”
There were a lot of things she could handle, but an out-of-control Garvey wasn’t one of them. He’d been specially trained to do exactly what he’d described, but she was worried it meant a return to arms. That the taste would be enough to drive him out of retirement. Garvey being reactivated with the CIA was something else she wasn’t equipped to deal with.
Garvey shrugged. “The Camino de Santiago club isn’t well liked. Now they’re going to have a lot of eyes on them. It may only keep them at bay for a little while, but I prefer to have a little breathing room to an all-out war blowing up in my face.”
The way his voice trailed off said he didn’t believe events over the past few days were the end of things, either. “Think it will come to that?”
“Yeah, I do.” Garvey heaved out a heavy sigh, his amusement about the exploding motorcycles clearly fading. “I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure that doesn’t happen, though. But it may be out of my hands now.”
That was what she was worried about. “You live a life I’m not sure I fit into. This violence isn’t for me, Garvey.”
He clasped her hands in his and leaned closer. “It won’t always be this way, Arden, I promise.”
“Not sure that’s a promise you can guarantee.”
“No guarantees in life. You know that as well as I do. I may not be able to assure you that everything will be perfect. But I can promise you that you’ll always be safe with me at your side.”
She nodded, knowing Garvey was a man true to his word.
“This...whole thing wasn’t what I was expecting.” He pushed up out of the chair and began wandering around the room. As she watched him, she realized she much preferred the unstable Garvey to the troubled one. “Me. Kane. Boone. This wasn’t what we’d planned when we decided to start Riding Irish last year. We were just a couple of friends who got together and rode our bikes. It’s what the club should be.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist. “The moment you got involved with the Dullahans, that ended.”
“I know.” He gathered her close, pressing his mouth to the top of her head. “Worth it, though. Saved Avery’s life. Made Kane a very happy man.”
“Always trying to save the world.”
“I’m awesome like that.” His soft chuckle rumbled through her.
“Yes, you are.”
Without warning, he lifted her into his arms and carried her out onto the back porch. A wide, circular bed swung from chains embedded in the ceiling. The softness of the mattress cradled her as Garvey carefully arranged her amid the piles of sheets and pillows.
“Be right back.”
“Hey!” She grabbed his wrist to stop him. “We need to talk.”
“About?”
“The units.” Confusion crossed his face. For the first time she noticed the faint lines trailing away from the corners of his eyes. Had those always been there? She tried to remember if she’d seen them yesterday, the week before, or even out on the pier at Waikiki Beach where they’d reunited. The amount of stress he’d been subjected to lately was enough to best even the most virile man, but was it worse than he’d led her to believe?
“Getting inside your head already, kitten?”
When he dragged his fingers down the side of her face, she blinked. “Oh. Sorry. Was thinking about something.” Worrying about you. “Um...virtual reality? Huge advancement? You’re awesome?”
“Mmm, you’re pretty damn spectacular yourself.” A slow smile formed as he leaned over to press his mouth against hers. “I’m done thinking for the night. No business. Club or tech. All I want to do right now is make you scream.” When he pushed off, the rocking was far more unsettling than she would have expected. As he disappeared into the house, her stomach rolled.
What the hell?
Swing bed on a porch on the North Shore of Hawaii with the waves rolling in just feet away. This was supposed to be relaxing, right? She was supposed to be enjoying herself.
Garvey was all right. At least for the time being. There was no way to tell how the other club would take their motorcycles being blown to pieces. These were small-time criminals compared to some targeted in the ops she suspected Garvey had been a part of during his time in Special Activities. It wasn’t as though she thought Garvey couldn’t handle himself or the situation. But outlaw bikers weren’t known for their ability to play by the rules.
And they had solved the programming error that had been plaguing them for the past month at GKMTec. Something she still needed to explain to Garvey. The fix was so simple, he’d roll his eyes and wonder how he’d missed it. Working with new technology tended to follow that particular pattern a lot. Work for years testing every possibility only to trip over the answer that was right in front of you the whole time.
She sat up, which sent the bed swinging again. Damn. She lived on a boat most of the time, for fuck’s sake. A swing should not best her. Hopefully Garvey would never get any ideas about strapping her into a sex swing. Because that obviously wasn’t happening.
If the damn swaying would stop, she could find a moment’s peace. Just a few minutes without feeling as if her insides were becoming her outsides. Talk about bad timing.
Has to be stress.
She’d gone through a few episodes like this in the months leading up to her departure from the CIA. The stress of the work had finally bested her. The secrecy. The lies.
The great thing about being her own boss in her lab back in Maui was that she didn’t have to constantly look over her shoulder. Worry about how her tech was being used. Or what kind of crap was going on with the man behind the curtain.
She’d exchanged spooks for bikers.
Lovely.
The bed shifted as he joined her again. Cool air wafted over her skin as he unfastened the row of buttons running down the front of her dress. She groaned. “Not now, Garvey. There are enough things happening to my body without adding pain to the mix.”
He kissed her shoulder. “No pain this time.”
She glared at him. “There is always pain when your name is attached to sex.”
A diabolical chuckle wafted over her bare skin as he pressed his lips to the swell of her breast. Heat surrounded her nipple as he closed his mouth around it. The suction eased whenever she expected the pressure to increase. His tender efforts lulled her into complacency and the belief he honestly meant he intended to distract her without hurting her.
“Slip your arm under me. Hold on if you need to.”
Need to? Holding on was sometimes the only thing she could do when it came to Garvey. Strap in, shut up, and enjoy the McShea ride. It was crazy. She thought she’d known the type of person she was a month ago. That she craved pain as much as pleasure. But time with Garvey had showed her it wasn’t simply pain she desired.
It was him.
Determined to push away the stress and simply enjoy him for a bit, she rested her hand against the swell of his ass and was surprised to feel the fabric of his pants. “Why are you still dressed?”
Garvey’s body parts would have certainly provided a welcome distraction. Hell, a lot of her problems could be overcome by staring at his gorgeous body for a few minutes. “Because this is about you. About me giving someone pleasure instead of causing destruction.”
He dragged his fingers against her hot folds. The slickness provided little friction. Right, then left. Right. Left. Maddening as much as it was glorious. Much like the man himself.
“Put your leg over my hip. Open up for me. Good girl.” He slipped a single finger into her, massaging her clit with his thumb as he stroked her gently.
Being held in his arms while he tenderly petted her dragged her further down into the madness that had Garvey’s name etched all over it. She tucked her face against the crook of his neck, spiraling through the darkness as she inhaled the heat and arousal hovering against his skin.
Stress gave way to euphoria as her tissues swelled in response to his careful, gentle petting. The desire to serve, to give him anything he wanted, outweighed whatever mess was going on in her subconscious. Garvey would take care of her. The little strokes had her mewling quietly against his skin, reminding her he could be as caring as he was ruthless.
As he continued to trace her folds, he slipped a third finger into her. She realized then that the slickness was due to a combination of gel lubrication and the glove he’d put on.
“Mmm...I like it when your body realizes what I have planned for you. It opens right up. Accepts my intentions before your mind has a chance to catch up.”
Heat poured through her as he moved his fingers, slowly withdrawing and pushing back as he kissed her again. Time slowed, nearly ceasing altogether as he dipped his tongue into her mouth. Her world constricted, narrowing to the two points where he was connected to her.
He deepened the kiss, pushing his hand under her neck to cradle her nape. Offer support as he worked her higher. Heat flared at the new connection point, anchoring him to her. Now the rocking she focused on was his fingers moving gently and deliberately inside her. Caressing her arousal from her instead of drawing it forth with agony.
The pleasure was just as potent and real.
“Let me do all the work. You just feel.” He hummed against her lips, pushing open her folds as he added his pinky. Her muscles, hot and heavy with need, stretched easily to accommodate him. Like the swing moving under them, her pleasure ebbed and flowed within her, increasing with each minute.
He pushed in, working his way slowly, twisting his hand to part her further. Whenever she thought he was going to slip farther inside her, he retreated. He kept this up for so long, she lost track of the minutes.
She traced his lips as he smiled. “Feeling better?” he asked.
“Almost,” she answered.
“Means I need to work harder.” He drew her finger into his mouth with his teeth. He sucked the length, matching the movement of his hand for a long time before pulling back slowly. “Gonna need my thumb in a second. Think you can take over?”
She touched her hot skin, and her clit hardened. A slight adjustment, and he was pushing into her again. The pressure increased with the addition of his thumb, but the slow, hot slide through her folds caused her to strum her clit faster. Pleasure swamped her as he worked slowly, pushing into her a bit farther each time he withdrew and reentered.
“That’s it, kitten. Keep working yourself.” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “So sweet. I would give anything to work you like this all night.”
Her folds parted, accepting his fist as he pushed all the way into her. A racking shudder resonated through her as he slipped into place to rest against puffy and throbbing tissues.
The link with him was intimate, touching. A deep connection between them that couldn’t be broken. She felt as though she was being dragged through molasses, her mind, her body, settling comfortably in a place of hushed darkness. The sensation of hurting and feeling so, so good at the same time was a gift only he could give her.
“Garvey...”
“I’m here, baby.” And he was. Lying there beside her, filling her in a way that only Garvey could. He was home. Her home. Her everything. Garvey might have promised that he wouldn’t cause her pain tonight, but he’d hurt her in another way.
An ache in her heart that would never go away
She loved him so much.
“Let everything go, Arden.”
Vibrant energy spiraled her upward, blinding her, stealing her breath so she had to tear her mouth from his. She fastened her teeth against his neck, a quiet snarl spilling over her skin as she clenched her fingers against his back. She clung to him, fighting her body’s demand to climax.
If she orgasmed, she was convinced she wouldn’t survive. She’d be swept away, catapulted into an alternate universe where she had no sense of time or space. Where she couldn’t breathe or function. He felt too good inside her, filling her. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet. Give up the extraordinary connection they were sharing.
“Come on, baby. Let me feel you blow against my fist.”
The command washed over her, obliterating any thoughts she had of sustaining the moment of pleasure. A quick brush against her clit was all it took. Her muscles clenched, rippling around him as the sensation of being totally filled expanded and became more intense.
Oh holy mother of...God. God. God.
She caught fire, climaxing so violently and brutally her heart, mind, and soul felt as if they were being ripped from her body. Nothing existed for her. Nothing but Garvey, the single fixed point in her universe.
A harsh scream tore from her throat as she rocked her hips, her muscles contracting and releasing over and over with powerful force. She rode his fist to the finish, welcoming each aftershock that took her over the edge again and broke her open over and over.
She whimpered as he carefully withdrew, feeling a pleasant burn as he left her empty. He kissed her forehead before rising and moving off into the house. Just as she was starting to drift into sleep, he pulled her against him. This time flesh met flesh, and she burrowed closer, dropping immediately into oblivion.
She woke sometime later, her body still warm and relaxed. Decadent. Used. Loved. Garvey faced away from her, the broad expanse of his olive-toned back and shoulders in front of her. In the silvery glow of the moon, she noticed a few marks on his shoulder.
With a tentative touch, she traced one, realizing with a start she’d created the indentions. Small half-moon circles had been dug into his skin. Long, discolored patches of red trailed across his flesh, a visible sign of her pleasure. Leaning toward him, she placed her mouth over the deepest one.
Garvey stirred, turning to face her. He gathered her close. “Still not feeling well?”
“I hurt you.”
He jerked, his eyes flaring open. “What?”
“Your back.” She spread her hand, feeling the indentions.
“Oh.” He relaxed again, tucking her head under his chin. “No, sweetheart, you just branded me as yours.”
