Page 26 of The Heart We Guard
Dreams where a naked Greer rode me while I kept a solid hold of her hips. Even now, I can see the way her tits moved with that damn wolf’s tooth necklace she’s always fiddling withbetween them. Her eyes fluttered closed when she came. And my cock hardens at the thought of it.
My injuries had been stripped away in sleep, and I imagined holding her tight to my chest and rolling the two of us so we were on our side, her thigh up over my hip, as I sank so deep inside her I felt lost and found at the same time.
What’s rarer is that, in reality, my relationship to sex has turned…aggressive. Needing more to feel stimulated. But this, with Greer, it was making love in the most vanilla of ways, and it was more than enough.
When she came, I stole the breath that escaped her lips. When I came, I called out her name.
But I force myself to stay focused on my messages, playing them with the volume low, and I feel my heart rate increase. And the ease Greer puts into my body seeps out with every request from my real life.
“Grudge,” I grumble as I do voice-to-text. “You gotta get Big Daddy’s order out. Don’t care who takes it. Just make it happen.”
Message two is from Wraith. I reply, “Didn’t say we can’t fill the armory. Just saying that until Big Daddy’s payment is in the bank, we’ll have a cash flow problem.”
The third is to Smoke. “I’ll make my way home when I’m ready and it’s safe to leave.”
I toss my phone down on the bed. It’s shocking just how much I’ve enjoyed the rest. Maybe I should plan a vacation. I smile, wondering what it would take to persuade the freshly unemployed Greer to go with me. Then, I realize I’m a rotten bastard for even thinking about it and promises of steak dinners.
Our lives would never merge.
We’re oil and water, killer and savior.
And I think we both know that, deep down. Even though all I want to do is kiss her again.
As I roll onto my side and slide my feet to the floor, I think of the first day when I moved off the table.
The wounds are healing well thanks to Greer’s constant care. And the boner I currently sport is due to the way her hands feel on my body and lingering memories of my dreams.
I like sex. Happen to like it a lot.
Haven’t had it in close to a week.
And jerking off in Greer’s spare room feels all kinds of wrong. She’s taking care of me. And if I make a mess, she’s the one who’s gonna have to clean the sheets, and it all feels like a violation of her private space that’s lacking in any real consent.
Instead, I slip into the clothes she got her neighbor to grab for me. The ones that are a bit too big but are clean and flannel and soft. Then, I follow the scent of coffee.
When I get to the kitchen, I can see Greer is bent forward over her laptop. “Morning.”
She jumps at the sound of my voice. “Morning. There’s coffee. Help yourself.”
As I pour myself a cup, I think about the club. How it was before I left. Facing another chapter in its history. We destroyed the Bratva so completely that they’ll never come back around here.
We staked our territory. But at what cost?
I nearly died.
It seems so distant from the woman who saved my life, enjoying the scent of coffee made by her in the morning.
Some quiet jazz shit is playing in the background. Could do without that.
But it’s calm. Restful.
Her house is clean.
And for the first time in my life, I see the club as grime I’ve been itching to wash off. Not the club life so much as the being responsible for it all. And since I almost died and was remindedof my own mortality, I’m starting to see the faces of the men I’ve killed while I sleep.
And the daughter I ignored to do it all.
I’m not sure where this all leads or what my end game is.
