Page 51 of Gunner

He tore us both open when he told our stories. I should feel like a bundle of exposed nerves too, but I know that our secrets stop with the club.

“Holy fuck,” Gunner curses, eyes hot on my black lace bra.

I have the matching panties on under my jeans. I can’t wait until he finds those too.

“Take the contacts out. Please.” I want to see his real eyes darken like they did last night.

He straddles his bike, a giant in leather, his jacket gaping open, the t-shirt below clinging to his hard abs. His jaw clenches, but he removes the contacts, slipping them into the pocket of his jacket. He won’t use them again, but he doesn’t want to leave any trace of himself behind.

Gone are the cold blue and in their place, the softest, warmest brown. Dark and deep, like my own.

“Your jacket and your shirt too.”

“You want to objectify me, Dil?”

The familiar use of my name fills me with heat, arrowing straight between my thighs. It’s the hot possessiveness on his face that does me in.

I nod, biting down into my bottom lip to keep my shit together.

He sheds the jacket and reaches up at his neck, hauling his shirt off. The movement makes his glorious, naked body ripple. The scars don’t shock me the way they did the first time. He’s never going to be anything but a dark and wounded, gorgeous god to me. He leans back on the bike with feigned casualness, muscular thighs straining his jeans, abs popping out, the deep V outlined and arrowing straight into that faded denim like a welcome sign.

My nipples harden in my bra. I’m not ready to be fully naked yet. We might be in the middle of nowhere, but I need a second.

I leave my bra on, toe off my boots, and skim my jeans down my legs. Our gazes lock, the heat intense, the air stormy even though there’s nothing but blue skies above us.

Oh, yes. Gunner likes the matching black panties with the delicate floral lace.

He likes more than that. He can’t stop his eyes from tracing over my body. They’re hot velvet on my skin, lit up and intense. His tongue traces over his bottom lip slowly, unconsciously, like he’s imagining licking me from head to toe and one very specific spot in between.

I brush my fingers over my panties, parting my legs to give him a teasing show. His body tenses on the bike, the veins in his forearms popping out as he grips the handlebars, not socasual now. More like he could get that bike propped up and standing on its own in an instant while he comes over to tackle me to the ground, spread my legs wide, tear my panties off, and eat me to kingdom fucking come like he did last night.

“What are you sorry for, Gun? Trying to leave? Trying to abandon me after you wouldn’t leave me alone? For being obsessed only when it doesn’t count? For giving me heaven with a plan to leave me alone after? That’s called being a tease. I think it’s quite unforgivable.”

I know why Gunner was going to leave, but I still want to make him pay for ever thinking that he could.

“You wanted to save me.” I slip my panties aside and run my fingers over my own soaked slit. I’m so hot from seeing Gunner half naked on that bike, balancing all that chrome and steel like it weighs nothing. “I don’t need saving. Not from myself. Not from you. Not by you. I did once and I’ll always thank you for it, but we’re not back there now. I want to hear you say that. Say you were wrong.”

He remains silent, warring with himself.

I bury my fingers inside my tight heat, thrusting up and brushing my clit at the same time. Hours of vibrations from the bike didn’t leave me dry, that’s for sure. My head falls back, and I let out a gasp of pleasure. None of it’s a game. I withdraw them and bring them to my lips, licking my juices off one finger, then the other.

“Tell me you were an idiot for thinking that you knew what I needed, when all I need isyou.”

“We both know it’s more complicated than that,” he groans.

“Is it?” I brush my fingers over my clit, whimpering at the shockwave of delight that makes my legs watery. “You were going to disappear into the night instead of giving us a chance to fight for each other.”

“You don’t know me. No one really does. I’ve never given anyone a chance.”

I get serious, brushing my hands over my stomach and hips, arching my body in a slow writhe to showcase all my curves. “Is your cock aching watching me, Gunner?”

A muscle in his clenched jaw ticks. His knuckles whiten on the handlebars. I look straight at his jeans, right at the bulge that’s probably pounding.

“Do your balls ache just as badly? If you’d left, you wouldn’t have even had a clue that your club would have stood by you. Your problem isn’t the danger. It’s the fact that you think you know what’s best for everyone else. You think that they couldn’t possibly care. You think that you’re not worthy. You’ve miscalculated. Would you like me to tell you how?”

His eyes narrow. He’s almost done playing this game. I’m surprised he’s held himself in check this long. It would have been blisteringly hot to be tackled down to the grass about five minutes ago and I’m the one losing patience even though we need to do this. Doing it playfully is the best way I can think of to say what needs to be said.

“Lean back and take yourself out. I want to watch you stroke your beautiful cock. If you do, I might consider telling you.”

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