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My throat constricts, and I can’t form an answer.
“You’re mine. I protect you anywhere and everywhere. From everyone. How is that not clear by now?”
“I didn’t feel threatened.” I really wish my pride would stop trying to come up with lame excuses.
“No?” Blake moves closer, backing me against the cold stone wall. Even though he’s breathing hard and clearly still furious, his voice is quieter when he asks, “What did he say he was going to do if you didn’t help him?”
“Send the pictures to the dean.” My throat’s so dry my voice cracks. “And any jobs I might apply for.”
“What the fuck kind of pictures are they?”
“Nothing. Just…I don’t know. One looks like you’re bending me over your bike and…you know…” I can’t meet his eyes because it sounds totally silly when I say it out loud.
“I don’t know. Explain.”
“Your hands are on my hips.”
Cobra-quick he grabs my hips, gripping tight. “Like this?” His voice comes out huskier and clipped.
My pulse speeds up. “Well, no.”
“No?” His lips brush the skin from my neck to my cheek.
“I was facing the other way.” Stupid, Heidi.
He uses his big hands and body to turn me, so I’m facing the wall. I press my palms against the cool, smooth stones, noting that they’re all painted a putrid shade of mint green.
“Like this?” he rasps.
“Kind of.” Keeping my hands pressed to the wall, I bend at the waist, or try to. My ass lands in his groin. “I was bent over the bike.”
He rumbles a sexy noise, and his hands leave my hips. “Don’t move,” he warns.
Arousal surges through my body when I hear the clink of his belt.
“Are you still mad at me?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
He twines his fingers in my hair, gently tugging my head to the side. “I’m furious with you, Heidi.” He trails kisses along my neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so pissed with you in my life.”
The hand still at my hip digs into my soft flesh. The force of his touch spurs me to grind back against him.
He releases my hair and brings his hands to my waistband, quickly working the button of my jeans loose.
“It doesn’t feel like you’re mad.” Furious or not, Blake always appreciates a dose of sass from me.
His dark chuckle sends shivers down my spine. “It will.”
* * *
“So, this is a fury-bang?”
His hot breath puffs over my shoulder. “Fury-bang. Punishment fuck. Call it what you want.”
Oh my God, that’s way hotter than it should be.
He jerks my pants and underwear down to my knees. I close my eyes, embarrassed at how damp my panties must be. I shouldn’t care. Blake never makes me feel ashamed of anything.
“Open your eyes,” he orders. “Keep your hands on the wall.”
Cool air rushes over all the skin he just exposed, but it’s not enough to chase away the heat racing through my veins.
The ticking of his zipper and rustle of his clothing has me squeezing my eyes shut in anticipation. I’m dying to have his hands on me again, but I still flinch when he pushes my sweatshirt up and drags his calloused hands down my spine.
My heart flutters like a caged bird trying to break free.
He strokes strong, warm fingers against my center, preparing me for what’s to come.
“Spread your legs.” He caresses my inner thigh. “Make room for me.”
Shaking with need, I heel-toe my feet apart and arch my back.
“Nice,” he murmurs against my hair.
His warmth sears my back as he bands one arm around my waist. “Still furious.” He scrapes his teeth over my neck. That’s my only warning before he shoves himself inside me and lets out a deep groan.
I gasp from the sudden penetration and shiver violently. He slides his hand over my belly, straight to my clit, rubbing slow. Setting me on fire.
“Blake.” I reach back for him.
“No. Hands on the wall.”
He pulls back and the sense of loss is immediate. “What are you doing?”
He turns me and tugs my jeans off the rest of the way.
“Come here,” he rasps, lifting my one leg. I go up on my toes as he slides back inside me.
“Give me.” His fingers stroke my outer thigh. He shifts letting me go for a brief second before catching me with his arms behind my knees. Spreading me wide, impaling and pinning me to the wall.
I loop my arms around his neck, holding on while he drives into me. The hard set of his jaw says he’s still mad, but there’s nothing but love in his green eyes. I squeeze my legs around his hips.
“Blake,” I gasp.
I curl my legs around him, clinging while grinding against him. My core tightens, the buildup to release quick, considering we’d been fighting minutes ago.
“I’m going to come,” I pant the words in his ear.
“Good,” he murmurs into my ear. “Do it.” He slows his thrusts but hits me deeper, rubbing the sensitive spot that always sets me off.
“More.” I arch and clench, chasing the hot wave of pleasure brewing between us.
My toes curl. I bury my head against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of leather and summer wind still clinging to him. I clutch at his broad shoulders, marveling that he’s strong enough to hold me up while he slams into me. My nails dig into his cut as I desperately try to hang on and plead for more at the same time.
He kisses my shoulder, my neck, the teasing, tickling of his beard raking against my skin heightening everything else.
The intensity of my climax robs me of my senses.
He growls something I can’t make out against my neck. His cock pulses inside, me and he slows his thrusts.
His heaving chest presses me into the wall as we both try to catch our breath. My legs slide down, toes gingerly touching the floor. Can I even stand on my own two feet after that?
“Here.” He leans over and swipes my underwear off the pile at our feet. Patiently, he helps me step into them. I wiggle them up over my hips, wrinkling my nose at how damp and uncomfortable they feel.
With a goofy smile on my face, I watch him zip up and buckle his belt again.
“What are you laughing at?” He bends down and picks up my jeans. “Get dressed.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“Your pussy’s golden, but fuck yeah, I’m still pissed.” He watches my every move as I finish getting dressed.
“Look at me.” He brushes his knuckles against my chin and tips my head back. “Did you tell anyone at all?”
“No,” I whisper. Now that we’ve released some tension with a quick, mind-blowing fury-bang, we’re back to the Bryce blackmail problem. “He’s a jerk. I didn’t take his threat seriously.”
He scrubs his hands over his face and stares at the ceiling for a few minutes. “He’s a jerk who’s racing is funded by the Sons of Satan MC, Heidi.”
“What?”
“I don’t know if he was trying to get at me through you or he really is one dumb motherfucker, but I wish you’d told me sooner.”
“He doesn’t.”
“What?”
“He doesn’t seem to know much about the club or MCs at all. I told him he didn’t want to mess with me, but he wasn’t worried.”
Blake stares at me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the connection to the other club.”
“You’re not supposed to.”
Frustration builds in my chest, threatening to explode. I take a deep breath. “Well, don’t you think that’s a little one-sided? If they’re really a problem, shouldn’t I be aware of it?”
“No.” His simple answer only makes me madder.
“Are you kidding me? My brother even talks to Charlotte about this stuff, so she knows who to look out for.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes hi
s eyes shut. “She grew up in an MC—”
“So did I! Sort of.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Why?”
“She already knew about the S.O.S. stuff because her stupid fucking uncle is the one who tried to patch them over.”
“Oh.”
“Your job is to finish school and tell me if some asshole threatens you.”
“Blake—”
“No. No more arguing.” He wraps his hand around my arm. “You’re my girl. I protect you. From everything and everyone. Don’t ever forget it.”
Thirty-Five
Murphy
So much for providing security at the Castle tonight.
I cock my head and listen to the music still vibrating through the walls. Things must be okay out there.
I, on the other hand, am not remotely okay. The idea of anyone fucking with my girl is enough to make me tear a man to shreds.
Heidi’s by my side. Flustered and sweaty. Lips all red and puffy. Hair tangled. I’m pretty sure I left hickeys on her neck. My beautiful girl. “You’re a mess, beautiful.”
