“I ate already.”
“Real food, or pussy?”
If only she knew. I haven’t wanted to touch another fuckin’ bitch since I realised I was in love with her. I laugh and sit down next to her. “Nothing like a two-course meal.”
She whacks me hard, and then she moves closer. “You don’t smell like pussy.”
“What do I smell like?”
“Leather, exhaust, night air and a faint whiff of clubhouse.”
“So pussy then?” I laugh. She chuckles and lifts my arm, tucking herself beneath it and nestling into the crook of my shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re home. I was bored without you,” she murmurs. Home. My heart gives a pitiful little tug hearing her say that word.
“What did you do today?” I ask, tracing my fingertips along the pale flesh of her arm in lazy spirals.
“Laid around, watched bad daytime television,” she says, snuggling her head against my chest. “And I went outside.”
The hand that was stroking her arm stills, and tension coils within me. I clench my teeth and practically fuckin’ growl my disapproval.
“Butch isn’t a very good guard dog, you know?” she says, matter of fact. As if she’s talkin’ about the goddamned colour of the sky or some other shit you just drop into conversation. “He practically licked me to death.”
“I asked you specifically not to leave the house. Do I have to tie you to a fuckin’ chair again, or can you take a direct order—”
“You can tie me to a chair if you want,” she whispers. “As long as you eat me out afterwards.”
“I’m fuckin’ serious, bitch. How did you even get past the alarm?”
“I watched you enter it this morning, dumbarse,” she deadpans, and when I think back to earlier today, I realise she’s probably right. I’m a fuckin’ idiot. I was so caught up in those sexy little short shorts she was wearin’ that I didn’t have my fuckin’ head on straight.
“Tank, if I wanted to leave, I would have. I spent all day sitting in the sunshine with your dog. Tomorrow I’m going to get to work on your gardens. I’m bored. I can’t be cooped up in this house all day. And if you really want me to get better, then I need to push the boundaries. I need you to trust me … so I can trust me. I can’t promise it’s going to be easy. My first thought when I left the house today was that I could probably get to a pharmacy and back before you would even know I was gone. And then I felt the breeze in my hair, and the sun on my skin, and I decided I didn’t want to go anywhere. I need this.”
She was right. I knew she was right. But could I do it? Could I give her that freedom? And trust her not to fuck it up?
“Yeah, okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay, I trust you.” Her lips graze my chest and then she scrambles into my lap like an excited kid. “But you fuck this shit up, you betray that trust and go running off to the nearest fuckin’ dealer, and you don’t come back here.”
“I won’t let you down. I promise,” she says and snuggles her head into my chest. I sigh.
Such a fuckin’ chump.
I drape my arm around her waist, and find myself kissing the top of her head. She gives a contented little sigh and within minutes she’s softly snoring. I stroke her hair and sink farther into the couch, afraid to wake her. She sleeps so fitfully most of the time, like that bastard’s still haunting her dreams. So I let her sleep. I watch the show, not really knowing what’s goin’ on, but I get invested anyway, and I grow hard when I see the little bit of girl-on-girl action. I fantasize about waking Ivy up so she can suck my cock, but I don’t, because as much as it might kill me, that isn’t what she needs right now. I’m not what she needs.
“Come on, Warrior Princess,” I say, cradling her in my arms as I stand and start walking down the hall.
She lifts her head and smiles sleepily at me. “Where are we going?”
“To bed.”
“But you passed my room already,” she says, as she tucks her head in against my chest.
“To my bed,” I say.
“I like your bed,” she murmurs.
“Me too.” Especially when you’re in it. I carry her into the room and lay her on the bed. I strip off my leather jacket and my shirt and jeans as Ivy watches through amused sleepy eyes.
“Like what you see, babe?”
“Nah, you’re too bulky for me,” she teases.
“Bullshit. You like ’em big, just like you like ’em rough.”
“It’s true. I do like that.”
“You can’t lie to me, Ivy. I got that pretty little head of yours all figured out.” I tap my forehead for emphasis.
“You do, huh?”
“Yep,” I say, and crawl up the bed towards her. I cage her in between my forearms, and then I slowly peel off her clothing so she’s completely naked. My dick’s hard and I want up inside her sweet fuckin’ pussy so bad my balls are turnin’ blue, but I know she’s not interested in fuckin’ me. She’s made that real fuckin’ clear. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna give up an opportunity to have her naked in my bed though. I roll her onto her side and tug her back against me, cupping her tits from behind.
She laughs softly. “I thought we were just sleeping?”
“We are. I just like a little bit of tit to hold as I drift off. I got mummy issues.”
“You’re a fucking pervert.”
I chuckle and press a kiss to the space between her shoulder blades, and I hold my woman as she drifts off to sleep. Doesn’t matter if she doesn’t realise it yet, it doesn’t even matter if she doesn’t love me back. Ivy belongs to me. And I’ll be fucked if I let anyone take her away from me. Not my Prez, not my brother Kick, not Killer or the rest of my club brothers, and certainly not her fucking piece-of-shit father. She’s mine. And I don’t care if I have to gut every last one of them. I will. To protect what’s mine, I’d do much more, and they better hope to hell it doesn’t come to that.
Tank slides his stubbled rough jaw through my wetness, and I cry out. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I sink my fingers into his scalp and moan, writhe, and quake as his tongue darts out to lick my clit.
“Harder.” I pant.
“No,” he says against my flesh and continues licking me softly, reverently. I whimper and rock my hips, sliding my pussy against his face, seeking more pleasure mixed with pain. He pulls his head back and circles his massive arms around my thighs, placing his hands on my lower abdomen and pinning me against the mattress.
“Wake up, Warrior Princess,” Tank whispers in my ear, and the dream dissolves around me into nothing, into bright light and reality and frustration.
I open my eyes, lift my head and glare up at him. “I hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah, Princess. Heard that one before.”
I flop back against the pillow and grind out my dissatisfaction against the damp sheet. Fucking destroyer of dreams.
“Get up. We’re going somewhere.”
“Can’t we go later?”
“No. Now get up before I drag your arse into that shower without turnin’ on the hot water.”
“Sometimes I really hate you,” I mumble, and close my eyes, but when he climbs off the bed and stomps over to my side, I shriek and I’m up in a heartbeat, racing him to the en suite. I hold my hands up to ward him away. “I’m up! Fuck!”
Tank chuckles and leaves me to my business. Jesus Christ, he’s a scary fuck sometimes. I’m surprised I didn’t pee myself just trying to escape him.
When my heart rate has returned to normal, and I’m showered and dressed, I head out to the kitchen. Grabbing a cup from the mug tree on the bench, I turn the coffee machine on, annoyed that he hasn’t already done it, but Tank comes up behind me and takes the mug from my hand. “You ready to leave?”