Page 36 of Royally Embraced: RBMC

She gasped and wiggled in his arms to get down. He chuckled, helping her stand when her legs wobbled.

“Don’t you dare say anything about my inability to stand on my own two feet. It’s your fault. When are they going to be here?I look like shit.” She spun to face the mirror, her hands moving to her hair.

Jeter kicked out of his jeans and briefs, eyeing the vision Tori made with her naked backside on full display. “Damn, baby. You have no clue how sexy you look right now. If anyone were to see you like that, they’d lose their shit. Especially with my come leaking out of you like that. It’s taking every ounce of strength I possess not to bend you over that sink and fuck you all over again.” He ran his hand over her smooth ass, following the crease between, and teased them both by sliding his fingers through the sticky mess of their juices.

“Oh my god, what are you doing to me?” she moaned.

“Well, if you keep letting me touch you like this, I’m gonna get you off.” He waggled his brows.

She spun to face him, giving him a little push. “You stop it right now, you male hussy. We need to get cleaned up before your friends show up, or they’ll think we do nothing but fuck.”

He grinned, letting his hand go back between her thighs. “And that’s a bad thing, how?”

Tori moved her pelvis back and forth, and he felt his cock stir. Stupid thing. Lucky bastard.

His arm dropped as she shimmied away from him. He stared as she wrapped the plastic cap over her hair and pointed a finger in his direction. “I’m going to take the fastest shower, and then you can, dirty boy.”

Jeter tossed his head back and laughed. Fuck, he loved her. Yep, that was it. He’d fallen head over ass for Tori or Vittoria.

VITTORIA DIDN’T CAREthat the water hadn’t warmed properly. Hell, she needed the cooling spray to calm heroverheated skin. In less than twenty-four hours, Jeter had turned her into a sex-crazed woman. They’d had sex three times, and she’d gone down on him once. That’s four times. And he was ready to go again, and so was she. She didn’t think that was normal unless they were taking some special pill. Neither she nor Jeter had needed any enhancer to make them want to have sex. Want was too tame a word.

She looked around, cursing when she realized the shower gel wasn’t inside.

“Looking for this?” Jeter opened the door. He held two bottles of shower gel and her loofah in his hands.

“Ah, you’re an angel.” She grabbed her loofah and gel and started washing her body. He shut the door and joined her inside the shower. Tori vowed she wouldn’t let his or her sex-crazed body decide to go for another round.

He soaped up his hands, using them to coast over her back. She glared at him and wagged her finger. “No funny business, big guy. In and out, that’s what this shower is about.”

“Hmm, I can get behind that. My dick, in and out of you, sounds amazing.”

She squirted a heap of her wash on the loofah and held it in front of her like a weapon. “I will make you smell like me.”

Jeter stepped into her sudsy hand. “Don’t tempt me, Vita Mia.”

Her hand dropped. Running the soapy loofa over his chest and down to his stiffening cock, she blinked up at him through the water. “I will ruin you.”

Jeter closed his eyes. “Baby, you already have.”

BY THE TIME THEY FINISHEDmaking love for the fourth or fifth time in the shower, Tori was a limp noodle when she walked out of the bathroom. But she was clean, her hair was in a neat-ish bun, and she had some light makeup on her face. Thank goodness she only had to wash her hair every third or fourth day. Otherwise, it would’ve taken her a lot longer to get ready.

“Damn, you clean up really good.” Jeter twirled his finger.

She laughed and spun in a slow circle. Shaking her ass, she faced backward. He gave a whistle that would make a construction worker proud. “Why thank you, kind sir. You look quite fetching, too.”

And he did. The jeans were the same ones he’d had on in the bathroom, but the black T-shirt molded to his chest and hugged his arms to perfection. However, the black leather vest with the patches on it caught her eye. She moved closer so she could see the different words and symbols. Although he cut a dashing figure in the expensive suit from last night, she loved seeing him in the casual clothing he was in now. He seemed to be a different man.

“What do these mean?” she asked, straddling his thigh.

He slid his arm around her, pulling her down so she sat on his leg. “This is my road name. This is my place, the club. If I were just a brother, it would say rider or something like that. Some brothers who have killed certain individuals will have patches for that on their cuts. I don’t display those on mine. Over here is our club patch.” He moved his hand over to the other side.

She ran her finger over the next patch and waited for him to explain what it meant.

“This one means I’ve killed with a gun. And this one means I’ve killed with a knife. If there were one to show I’ve killed with a rope, I’d have that one, too. I was in special forces. Our government taught me how to kill with anything I could get my hands on, or if I had nothing, my hands could get the job done.” He held her hands over his heart. “I did a lot of awful shit.”

“You did what you had to do. There is nothing you can tell me to make me think you’re a bad person, Jeter.” She kissed him on the head where the bullet had grazed him.

“No, ma’am. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

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