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CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
TANNER
Wesley reaches down, wrapping his hands around the backs of my thighs, and picks me up. His mouth never breaks away from mine. His hands squeeze me as he walks us somewhere. I don’t know where and I don’t care, all I know is that his tongue is strong, and his kiss is perfect.
Something hard presses against my back, ripping my mouth from his, and the back of my head bounces against the side of the building. The brick is hard, but I don’t care. This is too fucking perfect to worry about concussions.
Wesley’s mouth moves down my throat, stopping just above the collar of my shirt. My entire body trembles. I need this man to touch me… everywhere. I need to feel him, all of him. Every single inch of him. Everywhere.
Wesley releases my thighs, his mouth moving up my neck again before his teeth nip my bottom lip. He lifts his head, his eyes finding mine before his lips curve up into a smirk. “Turn around, buttercup. I need to feel you.”
A thrill of excitement shimmies up and down my spine. Nodding my head once, I turn around and look back over my shoulder at him. He gives me a short nod, then takes another step closer. His front presses against my back and his mouth is on mine.
“Fuck,” he growls against my mouth as his hands move around my waist to the button of my jeans.
He slides the zipper down, pushing my jeans open, then drives his hand beneath my panties. His hand cups me, his fingers sliding along my folds before they swirl my clit, then repeat the move.
My breath comes out in a whimper. Ripping my mouth from his, I push my hips backward, wanting… no, needing more.
Wesley chuckles, his breath against my neck as he moves his fingers, consuming me, taking me—owningme. Jerking my hips, I close my eyes as I climb higher and higher, shifting closer and closer to the edge.
I gasp, ready to topple over and cry out with my release, but then his hand disappears. My eyes pop open and I turn my head again, looking back behind me. I don’t see it, but I feel it. Wesley wraps his fingers around my hips, jerks them backward and buries himself inside of me with one swift motion.
Crying out, I slap my palms against the brick wall, trying to dig my nails into the impenetrable brick. Whispering his name, my eyes flutter closed as he fucks me hard. My chest presses against the wall, my cheek doing the same and no doubt becoming scratched from the hard surface.
I don’t care.
He could bruise me, and I would continue to beg for more from him. “Please,” I whisper. “Please.”
Wesley doesn’t gloat, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he fucks me harder, just like I’ve begged. Keeping my eyes closed, I let out a breath, climbing higher and higher. I’m on the brink, looking down, looking down and smiling as I jump over the edge.
His hand slides around my hip and then I feel his fingers against my clit. He thrusts hard and fast, moving inside of me, his hips slamming against my ass with each shift of his pelvis. I tremble, trying to claw at the wall to keep myself up as my thighs tremble.
I’m about to fall to the ground, but Wesley won’t let me. His other arm wraps around my waist, holding me up as he continues to thrust inside of me over and over, harder and harder. I can do nothing, say nothing, only noises escape my lips.
“You’re mine,” he growls. “You are mine, Tanner.”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes.”
“Fucking shit, yes,” he roars as he buries himself deep inside with one last thrust and I feel him fill me with his release. Sucking in a breath, I hold it, welcoming him, welcoming all of him inside of me.
Absolute and complete perfection.
RIFF
Pulling my pants up, I help her with hers. I’m alive, she’s alive. Fuck me, we’re breathing and we’re safe. Reaching out, I wrap my hand around hers and tug her behind me, wordlessly, as we make our way into the clubhouse.
I have no doubt that people saw us, but I don’t give a fuck. They’ve all seen so much more than the show that we just gave them. Plus, there is absolutely nothing wrong with taking my woman after a near-death experience. Sinks could have killed her, probably would have raped her, or worse, had Brent not helped us find him.
That’s something else that I don’t want to deal with now or fucking ever. Brent. The fucking dick. There is just no way that he’s going to be cool… ever. Especially after this shit. I have a feeling that once Sinks is locked up for the day, Brent will drive his happy ass over here to have a chat.
The club is quiet as we make our way inside. The men from Louisiana are hanging around the bar, drinking. They don’t even turn around when we walk into the clubhouse. Too busy enjoying themselves after what I would call a semivictory.
I am half tempted to take Tanner straight to my room and lock her inside. There are too many fucking men around here that I don’t know. Men that are members of an MC, but not all are part of the Nasty Bastards, yet, and the others I don’t know very well haven’t been for long.
My feet stop moving toward the bedroom when I see Tiny slipping out of the hallway. He jerks his chin toward me. Turning my head to Tanner, I shift my head down so that I can be closer to her, then I clear my throat before I speak.
“Why don’t you go and talk to the women. They were really worried about you, buttercup,” I say, murmuring the words against the shell of her ear.
