Page 87 of Perdition
“We’re headed out. Call me in the morning.”
They’d need to discuss what the hell they were doing with the information they had on Mad Dog and his business with the Cartels.
“Yeah. Goodnight, brother,” Frost said, then nodded at each of the couples, and Cluster, as they filed out of the old storage area.
Finally, it was just him and Emily, and she was staring at him, her gaze fraught with uncertainty but also yearning.
Reaching out to her, he raised his hand, waiting for her to take it. “Let’s go home, baby.”
She dropped her gaze to his hand, hesitant, but finally, she took it.
A small battle won.
But the fight for his marriage was far from over.
TWENTY-FIVE
The ridefrom Cool Hands to their house was silent of voices but loud with unspoken words and pounding heart beats. The distant rumble of an incoming storm sounded, and the scent of the impending rain filled the air.
Her heart, owned by Mads, was beating a mile a minute, desperate to feed a body long starved of his touch.
Starved. Aching. So freaking desperate.
Her bare legs under the short skirt were hot, and the material of the seat beneath her and the skirt brushing against it, teased her.
As if sensing her body was going haywire, Mads placed his hand on her knee. She tensed for a fraction of a second before muscle memory kicked in.
She missed that hand, that touch, the man who was the only one who ever made her feel an ounce of arousal.
And she was turned on as hell, her pussy had been weeping since she’d caught sight of him across the bar, standing there in all his delicious biker president glory, with a presence that just oozed masculine power. At six-foot-three, stacked with lean muscle, inked on his muscular arms, and dressed in a tight black Henley that hugged each defined inch of his chest and abs, jeansthat wrapped around his thick thighs and were worn a little at the knees and on his back pocket, and scuffed black shit kickers completed the biker badass look that she could admit she’d taken for granted over the years.
Her man was a beautiful beast…and he was sitting next to her, driving her home, and she was seriously considering burying her head in the sand for the night so he would bury his face between her legs.
Em hadn’t been inside Frost’s truck in over a year, not since they’d made love inside it after the Fourth of July party last year. They’d both been drinking, the twins had driven themselves home, and Em and Frost were feeling all sorts of naughty patriotic.
They’d barely made it back to his ‘57 Chevy before he’d taken her mouth in a devouring kiss, opened the passenger door, threw her across the bench seat, then spent the next twenty minutes eating her out. Once she’d come in his mouth, he’d fucked her so hard, she had an imprint of a belt buckle in her back for two days.
Not that she’d minded, but when he took her from behind the morning after, he’d been so proud at those marks, he’d determined to give her five orgasms, wringing her out until she was a blob of sexual satisfaction.
Right now, in that same truck, those memories struck hard.
Mads was her only lover, but they’d dedicated years to learning each other, pleasuring each other, worshipping each other. He knew how to touch her to make her moan. He knew just where to kiss her to make her ache. He knew how to look at her to make her vibrate with need for him. He knew what each noise meant, the whimpers, the groans, the gasps. He knew how to make her say his name likethat, and he worked to make her say it,just like that, over and over and over again, until they were both exhausted.
As Mads turned onto their street, his hand slipped up her leg to brush against the bottom of the skirt, just close enough to her aching pussy to feel the heat of his fingers.
She sucked in a breath and held it.
Her nipples were hard as hell, and her core was pulsing with need left unsatiated for months.
His voice thick and deep, heavy with desire, was a growl as he said, “I can feel how hot you are through those panties, baby.” He squeezed her upper thigh, and she couldn’t stop the moan that exploded from her chest.
“Fuck,” he spat. “I know we need to talk, my Bloom, but I don’t know if I can focus with my balls this tight and my cock this hard.”
Before he even finished speaking, she was nodding.
He chuckled wickedly, and her body shuddered in response to the sound.
“I know I shouldn’t be that romance heroine with BBS, but I can honestly say I know how they’re feeling right now, and I don’t know if I care,” Emily rasped, nearly delirious with arousal.
