Page 8 of Crush & Byte (Grim Road MC #9)

Byte

The first time I ever touched myself thinking about a woman, I was fifteen and at summer camp. One of the kids had smuggled in a copy of National Geographic and I’d used it as my muse. Back then, I didn’t even know what I was doing. I followed what felt good. But this…

The next morning started the way all hotel mornings do. Thin sunlight leaking between blackout curtains, the cold knot of hunger in my stomach, and a raging hard-on from hell. I tried to stifle a groan and didn’t succeed as I sat up on the edge of the bed.

Crush was still sleeping. Or pretending to, which meant he was probably awake and cataloguing every sound I made for future blackmail. The door adjoining our room to River’s had been propped open slightly but she still had privacy. Aside from me, no one stirred.

I glanced over at my brother. He’d slung an arm over his face, but I could see the rise and fall of his chest, slow and steady.

A little part of me wanted to go over there and smack him awake, just to assert dominance.

But the bigger part, the part that had lain awake for hours, thinking about every interaction I’d had with River over the previous day, needed five minutes alone.

I grabbed my duffel and padded to the bathroom. The tile was cool under my bare feet, and the light made me squint. I locked the door, triple checked it, then turned on the shower.

I stared at my reflection for a second. I looked rough.

Bloodshot eyes, hair in disarray, jaw dark with stubble I hadn’t bothered to shave in days, all made me look a little like a hobo which made me grin.

My body was leaner than Crush’s but still cut, thick muscle striations visible underneath my skin.

When steam from the shower fogged up the mirror I stepped inside the shower under the scalding water. Perfect.

I tilted my head back, letting the water run through my hair and down my back. I closed my eyes, let my mind drift.

River. The way her voice went bright when she was excited, the way she’d smiled at me, mouth tilted just enough to make my stomach clench.

The freckles on her shoulders, the tiny gap in her front teeth, the way her eyes went soft when she thought no one was looking.

All of it made me want to keep her close, to bask in her light for the rest of my fucking life.

I gripped myself, leaning one forearm against the tile to brace myself.

The first few strokes were slow and deliberate.

I pictured her mouth, the way she bit her lip when she was thinking hard.

I imagined what it would feel like to have her look up at me, to see her lips part, to feel her hands on my hips as she took me into her mouth.

I sped up my rhythm, stroking myself with intent now, my breath coming faster while the hot water sluiced down my back and over my ass. Would she choke? Would she try to take all of my cock, or would she just grip the base, working the shaft with those nimble fingers?

Fuck.

I squeezed harder, thumb tracing the vein along the underside, just how I liked it.

I imagined her hair damp with sweat, imagined the way she’d taste if I kissed her, deep and greedy.

I pressed my forehead to the tile. My other hand found my balls, rolling them gently.

I pictured her watching me as she took my cock deep down her throat while she met my gaze with hers in an unblinking stare, wanting it as badly as I wanted her.

I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. It was stupid, but I didn’t want Crush hearing me, didn’t want to give him any more ammunition. The pressure built, hot and urgent. My breathing went ragged and I pumped harder.

I was close. I thought of her laughing, of her voice gone soft, of the way she’d shivered when I’d brushed her arm. I imagined her beneath me, legs wrapped around my hips, nails digging into my back as I fucked her deep and slow.

I came with a muffled grunt, spots dancing at the edges of my vision as my knees threatened to buckle. I gasped in a breath as I struggled to simply stay upright.

Fuck me.

Once I could move without falling flat on my face, I shut off the water and snagged the towel I’d slung over the top of the shower door.

I dried off fast, using the time to regain control of myself before I stepped out of the shower.

I slung on a fresh pair of boxer briefs before I unlocked the door and stepped out.

Crush was sitting on his bed, fully dressed, scrolling through his phone like he had no clue what I’d been doing.

I knew better -- the man knew me better than anyone else ever could -- but I hoped.

He looked up. Didn’t smile, but I caught the glint of humor in his eye. Yeah. He knew. “Feel better?” he said, voice perfectly neutral.

“Fuck off.” I grabbed jeans and a shirt from my duffel and dressed with snappish movements.

Crush just shook his head and kept scrolling. “We’re leaving in thirty,” he said. “Wake River?”

“River is already awake.” She stood in the doorway to her room dressed in jeans, a purple University of Washington sweatshirt.

A white T-shirt collar peeked above the neckline.

She looked like every college student I’d ever seen in Seattle before Crush and I left to join the military.

She smiled. “Morning. You guys eat yet?”

“Nope,” I said. “But I could.”

She smiled brightly. “I’m starving.” There was excitement in her gaze, and I swear she was actually bouncing with it.

I couldn’t help but grin. “Little anxious?”

“Nope!” Yeah. She was practically vibrating with energy. “But I drank three Redbulls a half hour ago! I’m ready!”

Crush snorted so hard he choked on his own spit, and I wasn’t far behind him. “Three Redbulls? Why the fuck would you do that?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night so I knew I needed a shot of caffeine and I really like Redbull so I ran out to the little convenience store across the parking lot and got some snacks for the road and drinks and --”

“Three Redbulls.” Me and Crush finished her sentence with her so we all spoke at the same time.

She took a breath before starting again. “I honestly don’t know why I did that. I was just so wired about today. I’ve never been so excited in my life!” She clasped her hands together, bouncing on her toes. “I feel like I could run a marathon or climb Mount Rainier or something equally ridiculous.”

I watched her fidget with the hem of her sweatshirt, her energy infectious despite the early hour. The caffeine had definitely kicked in, as evidenced by the way she kept shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Jesus, River,” I said, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice. “You’re gonna crash hard later.”

“Worth it,” she said, flashing me that grin that made my chest tight. “Besides, I figure if I’m going on some mysterious adventure with two bikers I’ve known for less than twenty-four hours, I might as well be fully caffeinated for the experience!”

Crush stood up, shouldering his duffel. “Smart thinking. We should grab breakfast and get moving. Pike Place opens early, but it gets crowded fast.”

Breakfast was terrible. Watery orange juice, soggy eggs, and a sad pastry tray.

But River ate like she hadn’t seen food in days, all while talking nonstop.

Normally the chatter would have been a special kind of hell for me, but I found myself enjoying the shit out of a caffeine-intoxicated River.

Crush sipped hotel coffee and glared at a business guy who kept staring at River over the rim of his latte.

If River noticed the tension in Crush’s gaze she didn’t comment, but I thought she was too excited to notice.

I wolfed down three Danishes and two cups of coffee.

River drained her juice and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

She almost muffled an impressive belch before bursting into giggles.

Christ, this woman! There was such joy and wonder on her face I had to wonder how much fun she’d had in life.

Though she had a default setting of shy and reserved, the more comfortable she became around us, the more she loosened up and let more of her natural personality bleed out of her shell.

Fuck. I already missed the shower.

Pike Place Market looked exactly like it did in every Seattle tourist video I’d ever watched.

Fish flying through the air, neon signs, street musicians competing with gulls for the loudest sound in a three-block radius, and a ton of people.

Even in the morning. The air was a mess of saltwater, fried dough, and the faint, ever-present smell of fish and sea air. I loved it.

River walked between me and Crush, head on a swivel.

Every time a fishmonger yelled, she started, turning this way and that trying to see the spectacle.

When a violinist played a trembling phrase right in our path, she lit up like a kid at a birthday party.

To say she didn’t want to miss anything was a vast understatement.

We wound through the crowd, Crush moving with relentless purpose while I kept an eye on River. She bumped my arm more than once, maybe by accident, maybe not, but I didn’t mind. I could have walked that market for hours if it meant she kept glancing at me with that bright, excited smile.

The vendor we were looking for was exactly where Maggie’s instructions had said.

As we approached the main entrance, across from the place with the flying fish, I saw a tiny shop crowded with rows of handmade journals and calligraphy pens.

The woman behind the counter was old in the way you only see in movies, with her white hair in a bun, gold-rimmed glasses perched low, and eyes so blue you’d think she wore contacts for effect.

Crush nodded a greeting. “Here for the Walsh Family package,” he said, voice pitched low.

The woman’s face didn’t change. “You must be the brothers,” she said, looking us up and down. “And this is River.” She smiled at River, who froze like she’d been caught cheating at cards.