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But this is hot as fuck, too, so I’ll take it.
PIPER
When my alarm sounds on my phone, his arm tightens around my waist, and he pulls me closer to his front. He spent the night last night. Reaching out, I touch the button on the phone to stop the alarm then turn to face him.
His arm tightens around me a little more, his hand sliding down to grab a handful of my bare ass. Then I remember the phone call I had with Dutch yesterday. In all the drama of last night, then dinner, then making up from the drama, I’d completely forgotten.
“My brother called me yesterday.”
“How?” Itch demands. “How in the fuck did he get your number?” he growls.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But he told me that Cyrus is dead.”
Itch releases his grasp on me, then pushes up to sitting before throwing his legs over the side of the bed. His back to me, I sit up as well. Reaching out, I place my hand on the center of his spine.
He’s all covered in black tattoos, and while they should probably scare me because I have a feeling there are meanings behind them that would terrify me if I knew what they were, they don’t.
“Itch?” I tentatively call out.
He looks over his shoulder, his eyes finding mine as he stares at me, no doubt waiting for me to say something. I don’t know what I’m going to say, but I suck in a deep breath and hold it for a moment before I continue.
“I blocked his number. He made a few little threats, but is what he said true? Is Cyrus gone?” I ask.
I’m not sure what I expect him to say, but I don’t expect him to confirm Dutch’s claim. “Yeah, he’s dead, baby.”
I didn’t really believe him when he said it, but Itch confirming it, that causes my entire chest to squeeze and all the breath to leave my body. I try to suck in air, try to breathe, but nothing happens.
My vision begins to darken, then I feel fingertips sink into my shoulders as my entire body starts to shake almost violently. My vision returns, and Itch is face to face with me, his eyes on mine, his brows knit together and his expression one of worry.
“Good. Was it you?”
He smiles, then shakes his head once before he leans forward and touches his mouth to the corner of my lips.
“It wasn’t me,” he murmurs before he shifts backward. “But he’s gone. And while I wish it were me, I’m still glad he’s gone.” Turning my head, I touch my lips to the palm of his hand and let out a heavy breath. “Now, is Dutch going to be an issue?”
“I hope not,” I reply.
He snorts. “Let’s get a shower and get you ready for work.”
Without another word, he takes a step backward, wraps his fingers around my wrist, and gently tugs me to my feet. I don’t protest. He’s back to being this sweet version of himself, and I want to keep him this way forever.
He starts the shower, though neither of us has to undress, then bends slightly to touch his mouth to mine. When he lifts his head, his eyes find my own, and he holds my gaze with his for a moment.
“It’s all good, baby. You and me. We got this.”
In this moment, I feel like we do have this. I may not feel the same sensations in a couple of weeks, but right now, I think we do. His fingers wrap around mine, and he gently guides me toward the warm shower.
Together, we step inside, and I sigh as the warm water hits me. Itch wraps his arms around me and pulls me toward him. My chest presses against his as I tilt my head backward and look up into his eyes.
“Cyrus is gone. You never have to worry about him again,” he rasps.
I don’t tell him that the person I’m really worried about is Dutch. Although my brother is an idiot, he’s a mean idiot, and he will not be happy that I blocked him. He’s less than happy that Cyrus is dead, and I’ve added to that.
Itch lowers his head, his mouth touches mine, and all thought of Cyrus and Dutch immediately vanish. His mouth is against mine, his tongue is inside of me, and he consumes me. Then he picks me up and sinks inside of me, holding me against the shower wall. My back presses against the warm tile, and his body is pressing against mine, holding me there.
He moves inside of me, his hips thrusting, his pelvis grinding against my clit with each stroke. I look into his eyes. I stare into his gaze knowing that this moment is everything. That he is everything.
The rest of the outside stuff, it’s going to have to stay there for now. We can do whatever we need to when the time comes, but for now, I can’t focus on it. No matter how badly it hurts to think about.
