Page 38 of Don't Let Go

Her eyes widened as she stared at us. “You’re here…” The husky note in her voice was pure sensual overload. I wanted to wrap myself up in the voice that had saved my sanity and my life more times than I could count.

As tempting an idea as it was, I couldn’t shake the fact she was wrapped around Locke or the swollen state of her lips and the red marks on her cheeks betrayed the kissing. The scent alone told me all about the fucking.

I switched my glare to Locke, largely because not even my rage at him was calming the erection stiffening in my pants. Patch was every inch the beautiful woman and there was something absolutely hypnotic about her freshly fucked expression, tousled hair, and raw voice.

It was enough to drive a man to pure madness and kill the son of a bitch who had his hands on her.

“Gentlemen,” Locke said by way of greeting like he wasn’t sprawled there with his wet dick, caught with it literally in the sweetest jar. He eased away from Patch and dragged a sheet up to her. “Give her a second, why don’t you.”

The last few words held a semi-hostile note. I wasn’t impressed, nor was Remy. Neither of us moved.

“Guys…” Patch’s inquiry tugged my attention back to her. Far more powerful than the lure of a siren, the need to answer her had me taking a step forward. “You’re all right, right?”

Her marked up cheeks seemed to pinken deeper the longer I stared at her. I swallowed the bitter pill of anger and shook my head. “We’re fine.” I could lie to her with my words, but not the rest of me. Her brow tightened as if she understood. Instead of holding up the sheet, she dropped it to scoot off the bed.

Fuck my life, she was all curves from her hips to her breasts to the way her tummy belled out a little. Nothing hollow or too taut for her. There were muscles, but she wasn’t all muscle. So much softness to wrap around a man.

No matter how hard I tried to keep my gaze on her face, there was no way I could resist sweeping a look over the roundness of her breasts or how puffy her nipples were.

Goddamn it. I was going to kill Locke.

“We’re fine,” Remy said abruptly, echoing my statement with a great deal more calm and elegance than I could or wanted to manage. He stripped off his oversized coat and moved to her. “Here…”

She eyed him then the long coat that reached his knees and would probably drop to her ankles. Rather than argue, she twisted to give him her back and let him slide the coat onto one of her arms, then the other. The dark material draped her, hiding that sumptuous body from my sight.

Not that I hadn’t already memorized so much of it I could conjure the image with a single thought. As it was, Locke was pulling up his pants when I returned my attention to him.

“All clear?” The inane question irked me on a primitive level.

“We wouldn’t be here otherwise,” Remy answered and for once, I let the fucker have it. His cool, accented tones held far more control than I possessed at the moment. Far more. “Do you really think we’d be careless with her safety?”

The fact the question not only dismissed Locke for asking in the first place, it slapped him for what he’d done—fucking her and forgetting that he was supposed to be guarding her. We’d just walked right up and onboard, he’d not known we were here until we came in.

“And you don’t even have a fucking weapon handy.” The realization burned like acid in my gut as I spat out the words. Then Locke had a gun up and pointed right at my head.

“Think again,” he advised. “Just because I don’t like the damn things doesn’t mean I can’t use them.”

I took another three steps forward until the muzzle of the gun was right at my forehead. Gaze locked on his, I practically dared him to pull the trigger.

“And you could reach it while you were fucking her?”

“Obviously.” Disdain practically crawled through Locke’s voice. “I wanted her to have all the pleasure I could give her. The gun being handy didn’t prevent that.”

Smug.

Arrogant.

“John,” Patch said in that low, husky voice of hers. I cut my eyes to the left but I didn’t back off from the gun. I really didn’t fucking like Locke right now. The uncertainty in her eyes sliced me open from sternum to throat.

I was scaring her.

Goddammit to hell and back.

“It’s fine, Sugar Bear,” I soothed her. “Why don’t you get our resident lordship to show you the bathing facilities, such as they are. Then you can get dressed and we’ll bring you up to speed on everything.”

A frown tightened her brow and she didn’t take those storm gray eyes off of me. “I can… but you’re angry.”

“Never with you.” It was true. I’d never been angry with her. Even if she gave herself to him. That was her choice. I’d never begrudge him. Locke, on the other hand, was a fucking idiot for burying himself so deep in the prize he forgot to watch out for her.

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