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She straddles my lap as if that’s all she needed to hear to be okay with her decision. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” My hands travel down her back and land on her ass. “How do you feel about the whole sex thing? You okay with that?”
She smiles. “Actually, I think I am. It sucks I didn’t get any post-coital snuggling, though.”
“Snuggling?”
“Yeah. At least that’s how it is in the movies. We do it, and then we snuggle and have deep conversations about our future.”
“The only thing I want in my future is to fuck your sweet pussy again because that was incredible.” I kiss her long and deep. “But if my girl wants to cuddle, I’m down.”
She giggles against my lips. “I should shower first.”
“How about this? You go shower, and I’ll give you a massage after.”
“Is that code for dick me down?” She chuckles again, which only goes to show how fucking strong this woman is. Nothing ever ruins her day.
“I can’t make any promises.”
She holds my face in her hands, bringing our foreheads together. “Good.”
“Now go shower.”
“On it,” she says, and I watch as the little tease strips right in front of me. First, her skirt comes off, then her shirt. Her back is to me when she pulls down her panties, but then she turns around when she slides her bra off. Her little tits drive me wild.
“Goddamn,” I curse, reaching out to palm one of them. She smacks my hand away. “Hurry, or else I’ll be in there with you, and neither of us will get clean.”
My eyes are trained on her ass as she walks into the bathroom, her round cheeks bouncing with each step. I don’t know how I got so lucky,
The second the bathroom door closes, I snap out of my lustful daze and dial a number I didnotwant to use. Unfortunately, I’m getting desperate, and if I want Navy to stay in Reno, I can’t wait.
“Loki,” a deep voice rumbles on the other side of the line.
“Hey brother, it’s Rigger with the Sons.”
“I know who you are. What do you want?”
Loki, the president of the Royal Bastards MC, isn’t one to mince words. He doesn’t have it in him for niceties, but I don’t take offense. A lot of people say the same thing about me.
“I need someone gone, but I can’t do that until a loan from the Costas is paid off.” I get right to the point, knowing there’s no good way to ease into the conversation.
“You borrowed from Leo and Robert?” he asks in disbelief.
“It’s a long story, but yes.”
He blows out a heavy breath. “How much are we talking?”
“Two million.”
He whistles. “That’s a lot of coin.”
“I know. It’s short-term, five years max. We’re ready to provide ten percent interest.”
“Now how the hell are you going to do that?”
“We opened up a brothel out here in Sparks.”
“I heard your joint is solid,” he says. It’s the closest thing to a compliment I’ll ever receive from him, and it doesn’t surprise me to know he’s heard of the Honey Pot. The Royal Bastards owns a strip club called Royal Treatment, where a few of our girls work when they’re not on tour with us.
