Devil's Game - Page 34/44

Then he kissed me, tongue probing deep as my arms came up around his shoulders. The kiss went on forever, alternating between deep, openmouthed tongue-play and him pulling back to suck and nibble on my lips. The whole time I shifted restlessly beneath him, his dick sliding back and forth along my clit.

Perfect.

Hunter lifted his head, eyes dark with need.

“You ready?” he asked me, positioning the tip of his c**k against my opening. I nodded, more than ready. I felt his broad, rounded head push against me, slowly sliding deep inside. This was different than that first time. He was gentle this morning, and while the pain I’d felt in the alley had been sheer pleasure, this was something different entirely.

This was fantastic.

He spread me wide, opening me up as I watched us come together. There was something incredibly sexy about the sight of his c**k entering my body.

I reached down between us, rubbing my clit gently.

“That’s f**king hot,” Hunter said, looking up at my face with a smile that literally took my breath away. “I think you should have to touch yourself every time we’re alone together, even if we’re just watching a movie or something.”

“That might get awkward,” I murmured, trying not to giggle.

“I don’t care,” he said, his tone urgent. “Fuck awkward. I want this.”

“Ahh . . .” I gasped as he hit bottom. I let my hand drop, savoring the feeling of being pinned down.

“I like those little gasping noises you make, too,” he said. “In fact, I like almost everything you do when you’re naked.”

This time I did giggle, although I stopped as he pulled out, then started sliding in a rhythm that had clearly been invented by Satan for the express purpose of driving me crazy. I tilted up my hips just a little, which was just enough to make his c**k drag along my clit with each stroke. Then I let my arms flop to the side, because everything felt so good I couldn’t imagine doing anything but just lying back and drinking it in.

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I think I’ve lost the ability to move.”

“Your moves last night were pretty good,” he told me. “I’ll give you a freebie?”

“Perfect,” I whimpered, then closed my eyes to focus on the sensations running through me. Damn. Hunter was just really good at sex.

My orgasm built slowly this time.

Not because it wasn’t perfect, the way he moved inside me. But I was more relaxed than I’d been in the alley, able to simply enjoy the feeling of his hard c**k filling me and then retreating, brushing my clit and bumping my G-spot with every stroke. And even though his movements stayed slow and steady, each one built me up just a little higher until I felt an electrical tension winding tight.

“You getting close?” he asked, dropping his head to kiss the side of my neck.

“Uh-huh,” I managed to say. “Very close. Oh God. Just a little more.”

He sped up then, clearly reading my desire. Now his strokes hit harder, pushing up against my cervix with every thrust. It should’ve been painful, but it felt fantastic.

Just what I needed to push me over the edge.

When I finally came, it was almost a surprise. He’d created such a slow, steady buildup that I hadn’t realized just how close I’d gotten until it hit. I spasmed around him, setting him off because he started moving faster, pounding me into the bed for long seconds before he came, too.

I felt his pulsing release with deep satisfaction, loving the press of his weight across my body. My arms wrapped around him, fingers tracing the lines of his back gently.

“I’ve decided we’re staying here in the hotel,” he muttered, nuzzling my hair. “We’ll have food delivered and I’ll just keep you naked.”

Food?

My stomach woke up, growling suddenly. My cheeks heated with a blush. Could I ever—even for a day—be smooth and fabulous? Apparently not.

“Or I can take you out and we can talk,” Hunter said, winking at me. “I don’t want you fainting from exhaustion, and I have a feeling that if we stay in, you’re not gonna get a chance to actually eat.”

“Waffles?” I asked hopefully. He lifted up on his arms and smiled.

“Honey, seeing as my dick’s still in your body, you can have whatever the hell you want.”

HUNTER

I glanced over at Em, then reached down to catch her hand and put it on my thigh. It wasn’t as good as having her arms around me on the bike, but her sitting next to me in my truck kicked ass in a big way.

God.

I still couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to have this woman, despite everything I’d put her through. Emmy Hayes was either a saint or an idiot. Seeing as we’d already established she was smarter than me, I was hoping for saint.

“So, any place you want to go special?” I asked. She smiled at me, those brilliant blue eyes flashing.

“Anywhere they have food. I can’t believe we’re up already. You’d think we’d be exhausted after last night . . .”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I promise I won’t faint on you,” I said with a smirk. She giggled. Then her face sobered.

“Hunter—”

“Liam.”

“Liam, I don’t want to get all weird and serious on you,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure I’ll be getting a pissed-off phone call from my dad in the next hour or so. Things got a little out of control last night . . . I’m not sure what I should tell him.”

“You’ll tell him you belong to me now,” I said, turning into a Denny’s parking lot. Not the world’s greatest food, but they’d have waffles. Damn, I’d learn to cook them myself if it made her happy.

“What do you mean, exactly?”

I put the truck into park, then glanced over at her. Uh-oh. Em’s face was shadowed and worried. I reached out and caught her chin, turning her to face me.

“You’re my old lady,” I said, catching and holding her eyes. “I respect that he’s your dad and I don’t want to get between you two. But he needs to know you’re mine now. If he has a problem with that, you hand him off to me. I’m serious, babe. Nobody gets between us. Never again.”

She blinked, her eyes bright.

“Okay,” she whispered. “But—”

“No,” I said. “That’s all there is. We’ll have shit come up, fight, whatever. But you’re mine now. I won’t be sharing you, I won’t be leaving you, and I sure as f**k won’t let the Reapers take you away from me.”

“I hear what you’re saying,” she said slowly. “But I think I should make something clear, too.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t share, either. I know guys in clubs who have two or three old ladies. Or they have a citizen wife and a club girlfriend. You should be aware that this is an exclusive relationship, and that’s nonnegotiable.”

I shrugged.

“Okay,” I said, reaching for the door. “Let’s get food.”

She grabbed my arm.

“No, I’m serious,” she said. “You can’t just blow this off.”

“Baby, I’m not blowing it off,” I said, smiling. I kind of liked jealous Em. “But seriously—I don’t give a shit about anyone else anyway. We’re fine.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re a little too good at this,” she said. “Got all the right answers.”

“It’s hard to be perfect, but I have lots of practice.”

She hit my arm and laughed. Then her face sobered.

“I have another serious question for you,” she said. “I don’t want the right answer, though. I want the truth, even if it hurts.”

Shit. That didn’t sound good.

“Do you love me?”

I studied her, considering my answer.

“No,” I said finally. Her face fell, but I pushed forward. “My life has been pretty f**ked up, Em. I’m not even sure I believe in love. But here’s what I can tell you—I’ve never given a shit about any woman except you and Kelsey. That’s it. Hell, I don’t even remember their names half the time, and until I saw you I never even saw a problem with that.”

She blinked rapidly. Christ, telling the truth sucked. But she asked for it and I’d already done enough lying.

“I remember the first time I laid eyes on you,” I said. “It was at that little mini mall across from Costco, back in Coeur d’Alene. You’d just gotten your toes painted at the Vietnamese pedicure place. You had those funny, girly things between your toes and you fell off the damned sidewalk because instead of watching where you walked, you were looking at your phone.”

“That never happened. I’ve never fallen down after a pedicure—I’d remember. That would totally ruin the nails.”

“Well, you missed the curb but still managed to catch yourself,” I told her, smiling at the memory. “Your phone fell down and broke, I think. I remember you looked up, right at me in my truck, and started laughing at yourself. Then you waved at me, grabbed the phone, and got in your car.”

She frowned.

“I actually remember that,” she murmured thoughtfully. “That was you?”

“Yup, that was me.”

“That’s . . . creepy. And weird, because why didn’t I recognize you when we met again?”

“I had a full beard, my hair was shorter, and I was wearing sunglasses,” I said. “Not only that, the window was tinted. I guess my point is this—I’ve spent days f**king women whose names I couldn’t remember if my life depended on it. But you? I remember everything about the first time I saw you, even though we didn’t even talk to each other. That’s when it started, whatever this is between us. ‘Love’ is a word that doesn’t mean a damned thing to me. ‘Em,’ though? That’s a word that means everything. I’d die for you, babe. Kill for you, too. I stood up to my club for you and I don’t regret any of it, not for a minute. So, you wanted to know how I feel? I don’t even have a word for what I feel, sweetheart. I just know it’s really f**kin’ good.”

Em sniffed, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around me. She squeezed me tight, then pulled back and took my face in both of her hands, studying me intently.

“I love you, Liam.”

I closed my eyes, savoring the sound of the words. Then I said the only thing I could think of, even though I knew it was f**king pathetic.

“Thanks.”

Her face fell, although she caught it, smiling at me a little too brightly.

Telling the truth sucks ass.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

FIVE DAYS LATER

EM

On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I walked into the upstairs bathroom to find black beard hairs all over the sink. Ugh. Boy cooties.

“I really need to get an apartment,” I muttered.

“No shit.”

I jumped as Skid spoke behind me. I swung around to face him, glaring. God, the man was like a f**king cat—always sneaking up and freaking me out. I think he got off on it.

I’d been staying with Hunter since he’d liberated me from Cookie’s house, which started out fun. I’d gone back a few times, of course, and still kept most of my stuff there. I couldn’t live at her place long term, though, not if I wanted to have Hunter sleeping with me. Cookie didn’t want me bringing guys home, and the last thing we needed was another confrontation between Deke and my boyfriend. Somewhere Hunter could stay over had become a very high priority.

God, this house was a cesspit.

I’d made excuses for the guys at first. It’s hard to keep up with housework, especially if you’re not used to it. Clutch still couldn’t get around very easily, and they had so much to worry about with all the drama.

Yeah, after five nights here I could officially call bullshit on the excuses. Sure, they had to worry about the cartel. That consisted of keeping their eyes open for anything suspicious (nothing) and bitching (endlessly). I knew Hunter and Skid ran errands for Burke, and I knew that Grass held down a job of some sort . . . But so far as I could tell, their other primary activity was watching  p**n .

Oh, did I mention the extensive  p**n  collection?

And I do mean extensive.

Kelsey and I got drunk together Sunday night and she filled me in. She was sleeping with Skid, something I couldn’t quite understand a woman doing voluntarily, but she assured me she was just using him for sex. According to her, the place was a clubhouse in every way but name, seeing as Portland wasn’t an official charter. Unofficially, Hunter was acting as president, with Skid as his VP/sergeant at arms. Grass and Clutch were muscle.

All of them were pigs.

I turned to look at Skid, who stood in the doorway behind me.

“Got any suggestions?” I asked. “I need somewhere cheap that doesn’t smell like feet.”

He sniffed, then gave me a puzzled look.

“It doesn’t smell like feet in here.”

“No, in here it smells like mildew.”

He shook his head, frowning.

“Did Kelsey talk to you?”

“About what?” I asked.

“Her place,” he said. “She’s got a spare room and she’s having trouble making rent. I had to buy her groceries this month. She was going to see if you wanted to move in.”

“She didn’t say anything.”

“I wonder if Hunter told her not to,” he said slowly. “He’s worried she’ll be a bad influence on you. He might’ve mentioned something to her about backing off and leaving you alone. If you ask about the room, I bet she’ll say yes.”