Page 13 of Royally Embraced: RBMC

Jeter grabbed her hand before she could move away. “Do I look like I give two fucks how my hair looks, farfallina?”

Her heart raced. No, he didn’t look like a man who cared about his looks. But he appeared as though he could devour her as he stared at her lips. They were inches apart, close enough she could smell the whiskey on his breath. She wondered if he’d taste the same. “I need to get the ointment.”

His hand snaked around her face, brushing against her cheek. He sifted his fingers through her hair, giving a slight tug. Tori gave a little moan, loving the feel of his touch.

“Damn, you go to my head faster than any liquor ever could. I need a little taste. Can I have one?” he asked.

She had a feeling he wasn’t a man who normally needed to request. No, if she were a betting woman, she’d lay odds women threw themselves at him. Another little tug reminded her he was waiting for an answer. “Yes, please,” she sighed.

“Good girl,” he breathed against her lips.

The first brush of his mouth against hers reminded her of the butterfly he called her. Light, so soft, she wished for more.

Closing her eyes, she leaned closer, hoping he’d give her more.

He groaned, licked at her bottom lip. She opened her mouth, allowing him access inside. As soon as his tongue entered her mouth, she lost all sense of herself. This man was a master at kissing. His grip on her hair moved her head as he deepened the exchange. Their tongues flicked along one another’s, caressing, touching, exploring. He pulled back, sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, and let out a growl.

“Fuck, I could lose my damn head with you.”

It took her a couple of seconds to gather her wits. Their breathing came out choppy, as if they’d run a marathon. His hand still held her head. Hers gripped the front of his suit jacket, twisting in between her fingers.

“Oh shit, you're bleeding still. Dang it. See what you made me do?”

He chuckled, using his fingers to massage her scalp. If he kept doing that, she’d be purring like a damn kitten.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t made out in a car like that since I was a teen. And for the record, if we’d have continued much longer, I’d have pulled you into my lap and probably dry humped you to completion in my slacks like a prepubescent youth as well.” His hand released her, allowing her to move back.

She looked down at his lap, unable to miss the sizeable bulge. Her gaze went back to his face to see a knowing smirk there. Tori laughed, feeling lighter, which was absurd given their situation. “Let me get you cleaned up again.”

This time, she ensured the blood was gone, and the Aquaphor was applied without focusing too much on his very kissable lips. It was hard, much harder than she’d thought possible. She blamed her crazy reaction on the life or death situation making her crazy. It had to be a form of Stockholm or something. She’d google it later.

“You’re holding up really well for someone who was involved in a near shooting. Are you sure you’re okay?”

His concern melted some of the ice around her heart. Nobody in her life truly gave a shit about her. Sure, the Hoolihan family would inquire about her when she was at work and looked upset. However, if she didn’t show up for work, Tori didn’t think they’d do much more than call her to find out why, replace her, then move on. Point in fact, her cell phone was silent. No text or voicemail from any of her employers wondering how she was after the crazy night at the bar. Being left to hold down the fort alone at her place of employment with a group of fucking mobsters surely constituted a damn phone call, or group text, something.

She blinked several times before answering, “Yeah, I’m tougher than I appear.”

Jeter brushed his thumb over her bottom lip and cupped her jaw. “I have a feeling you’re a lot more than you appear.”

His words made her gut clench. Tori wanted to blurt out the truth to him right then and there. The man was in danger because of her. Hell, it was her fault someone had shot at him. The shooter would’ve killed them both had she not pushed Jeter at the right moment. Her impulsive act had saved both of them. If she were smart, she’d give him the slip and start running again. Of course, she might be wrong, and it wasn’t her they were after. Maybe it was a coincidence. Tori let out a sigh, knowing full well she couldn’t let her guard down. For the past four years, she’d stayed safe by keeping on her toes. No matter how she felt when Jeter kissed and held her, she needed to remember her life was at stake.

JETER WATCHED TORIout of the corner of his eye as he drove them back to the hotel courtyard. He didn’t miss the way she’d shut down on him. The woman was an enigma, and she was hiding something big. He didn’t like the thought of her keeping anything from him and vowed he’d uncover all her truths, one way or another.

The valet came to his side of the Bronco, waiting for him open the door. Jeter reached for her hand, ignoring the man outside the vehicle. “No matter what happens, I promise your safety is my top priority. If shit goes down, stick with me, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to get us out of it.”

She let out another deep sigh, and then she nodded. While he wished Tori would’ve said the words, her eyes and the small movement of her head would suffice for now.

He gave her knuckles a small kiss before releasing her. “Let’s roll.”

A valet stood on each side of the vehicle, opening Tori’s door at the same time as he pushed his open. “Welcome to the Waldorf Astoria, Sir.”

“Thank you. We’re popping in for a quick change. Can you please keep my SUV close?” Jeter pulled a large bill out of his wallet, passing it to the man when he finished speaking.

“Of course, Sir. What’s your room number?” he asked.

Jeter gave the valet the number to his suite he’d reserved. The Gold Coast Terrace Suite King Bed cost him over two thousand dollars a night. Thinking back to the first time he’d entered the hotel wearing jeans and his cut, he thought the concierge might stroke out. Of course the dapper man nodded and treated Jeter like any other guest, even if his hand might’ve shook slightly making Jeter grin. The opulent space was a world away from the Royal Sons MC clubhouse in California.

In two long strides, he reached Tori’s side. She stood under the glass canopy arch, with the moon overhead, looking lost. Hetook her hand in his, leading them inside. Although he’d grown up within the circle of money, and yes, danger, the military had changed his outlook on life. Wearing multi-thousand dollar suits and shiny shoes didn’t fit into his daily life.

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