Page 10 of Shadow’s Protection (Hurricane Heat MC #1)

She wraps her arms around me, her eyes wide. She looks thoughtful. Scared, maybe.

“You all right?” I ask, taking a small step back. I don’t know shit about this woman. Her life outside of here—none of that matters. What matters is right now. “Sweetheart?”

She sucks her lower lip into her mouth and bites down. “I’m just, like, numb. In the best ways,” she says. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.” She blinks fast. “Like, ever.”

I grab her hand and leave behind our mugs of now-cold coffee. I lead her toward the door, unlock it, and motion her through. “I can do better,” I tell her.

Back in my room, I peel that dress off Violet’s body and throw my jeans on the floor. We climb under the covers in my bed, and within what feels like seconds, we’re kissing again, frantic, deep kisses, as if we didn’t just come within an inch of our lives.

Violet is growing bolder. She takes the lead, kissing me and climbing onto my hips, shoving me back against the bed.

She grabs my face in her hands and kisses me, biting my lips between her teeth and scraping my beard against her cheeks.

She’s going to be raw before the storm is even over, but I don’t give a fuck.

It can storm until hell freezes over, as long as I’ve got his woman in my bed.

She pulls away from feasting on my mouth and kisses her way down my belly.

She massages my arms, laces her fingers through mine, lifts my hand to inspect the tattoos on the inside of my wrist. She licks the inside of that wrist and then drops my hand and moves her attention to a tiny mole I have just beneath my belly button.

She breathes hot kisses against my skin while she reaches for my balls, cupping them, massaging their weight with her fingers.

My cock springs to life, and she reaches again for the underside, fondling the barbell.

“I can’t believe you’re pierced,” she whispers, rolling another condom over my erection. “Can I ride you?” she asks quietly. “I want to know what it feels like with me on top.”

My eyes are closed, my hands fisted in the sheets. I don’t say anything, just wait while this woman sheathes me in another condom and uses me in whatever way she wants.

When she lowers herself down on top of me slowly, I feel the long muscles in her thick thighs tensing under my hands with every movement.

I grip her legs with my hands, thankful that I just came because I want her to ride me hard, to show me everything she needs, and to take everything I have to give.

“You like it on top?” I grunt the words out, keeping my eyes closed because I swear to fuck, if I open them, if I see Violet’s tits bouncing, her hair spilled out over her shoulders, her lips parted while she lifts herself up and down on my cock, this will all be over way too fast.

She purrs, a happy sound that’s half groan deep in her throat as she lowers herself, and my cock jerks in response.

The noises she makes when she’s fully seated are hot, but when I open my eyes, seeing her head thrown back, I’m blown to fucking bits inside.

Her knees are bent and her feet planted solidly on the mattress.

Her legs are spread wide, so I can watch as she bounces lightly on her heels, my dick sliding in and out of her perfect pussy.

She parts her lips and locks her eyes on mine. Then she squeezes her knees into my sides and leans forward. She braces her hands against my chest like she did on the hood of the GTO. Her hair falls forward, and the weight of her tits swings as she works her hips back and forth.

She moves slowly at first, making long, loose circles with her body on mine, rolling her hips to find just the right position and angle of my cock against her walls. She tightens her fingers against my pecs and closes her eyes, losing herself to the sensations.

I lift my hands to her tits and cup them. I squeeze hard and she gasps, and then I rake the rough pads of my fingers over the tender tips of her nipples.

She sucks in air and shudders, her entire body growing tense. She pivots from rolling her hips to grinding down, bucking back and forth once she’s found the right spot. She moans my name and starts to pick up speed.

“Fuck me,” I demand. “Fuck me, Violet. Come all over my cock, sweetheart.”

My words have the desired effect because Violet rides me violently, shaking my bed, banging the frame against the wall behind us.

I don’t give a fuck what kind of noise we’re making.

Violet fucks like a runner who loves every mile, chasing her climax, then slowing down, dragging out her pleasure and working herself into a frenzy.

I’ve never felt so deliciously used.

I can’t keep my hands off her, my fingers gripping her thighs hard enough that I bring her closer, deeper, until finally, she is crying out, no demure librarian whimpers, but full-throated, head-thrown-back screams of pleasure.

She shudders and shakes, grinding her hips down against mine and clawing her fingers into my chest. Watching her come is like watching a force of nature.

The power of her climax taking over her body is so real, so genuine.

Not like some of the club women who grate out fake noises like I’m going to be turned on by exaggerated effort.

Violet is the real deal. She’s breathless and throaty, loud and raw, and I swear to fuck I could come just listening to her.

It takes everything I have to control myself while her walls clamp down on me, a flood of wetness soaking the sheet beneath us. She’s done too soon. Too damn soon.

When she loosens her grip on my chest and sinks down against me, I slide my hands under her hair and breathe her in, waiting for her breathing to settle and her body to cool before I even think of moving.

The wind slams against the shutters. The room is dark because we turned off the lights, but it’s like I can see everything about Violet.

Her trusting green eyes. Her long hair, tangled and sweaty.

I hear every shaking breath, every satisfied purr that climbs up her throat as she comes down from the high she chased on my body.

I hold her close to me until she pulls away and rolls onto her back beside me.

“Any chance you can take me again?” she asks, her words shy. “Me on my back this time?”

I don’t need any more invitation than that.

After fucking for what seems like hours, Violet and I are tangled together in my bed.

We’ve got the blankets and sheets around us, and we’ve been talking for probably an hour about almost everything.

Where I grew up—not far from here. How long I spent in prison—just a few months, but long enough to know I never, ever wanted to go back.

Why I pierced my dick—that one, I don’t think she even needed to ask.

Violet’s telling me about her new job as a high school librarian when her phone rings in her purse.

The ringtone isn’t the same one I heard last night, and she jumps out of bed, grabs the phone from her purse, and sends the call to voice mail—but not before I see the name “Clive” come up on the screen.

She sets the phone on the bedside table on her side of the bed, and I notice she places the device facedown.

“Your sister checking up on you?” I ask, brushing strands of hair back from her face.

There’s no fucking way her sister’s name is Clive, but I have no claim on this woman. She’s here for a night, maybe two. It ain’t none of my business if she does have a man someplace out there. Fuck. If she were mine, I’d be blowing up her phone until I heard from her too.

Scratch that. If she were mine, I’d be with her every second of a storm like this. Doing exactly what we have been doing, until the storm passed. But it’s none of my business if her man’s an asshole. An asshole who can’t fuck her like I can, on top of it.

The phone starts to ring again. Same ringtone. Same reaction from Violet. She silences the call and sets the phone back down.

“Uh, no. That wasn’t my sister. I should probably check in with her.”

I wait, assuming she’s going to do it now, but the phone rings again.

I practically feel Violet’s body go cold as she silences the call.

As soon as she does, the fucking phone rings again.

And again. The calls come one after another until I swear to fuck this guy has called her at least ten times.

The way Violet’s reacting, I’m not sure if I’m jealous about him or pissed off for her.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I was engaged,” she explains weakly.

She takes the phone in her hands and holds it like it’s a bomb she’s afraid will detonate right before her eyes.

“I ended it six months ago,” she explains quickly.

“Broke up with him completely, not just ended the engagement. I’m not with anyone else right now, but Clive, he…

uh… He’s probably just worried about how I’m managing with the storm. ”

I yawn and stretch a little, my stomach rumbling. It’s probably time to get my ass into the shower, soap off some of the come and pussy juice, and get us some breakfast.

“Go ’head and check in with old Clive,” I tell her, trying to sound chill about it. I get out of bed, my dick sore from hours of fucking her. I turn into the bathroom. “I’ll shower quick and get us something to eat.”

Violet must have picked up her phone the second I got out of bed because I hear a beep, and then a voice message starts to play.

“Shoot.” Violet tries talking over the voice. “I must have put it on speaker.”

She fumbles with her phone in the dark bedroom, but I stop dead in my tracks as I hear the message.

“You fucking cunt.” The voice is seething with anger. “Answer your goddamn phone.”

I can’t hear everything the man says because I start to see red as soon as he says cunt.

I hear him say, “You think this is a game, Violet? You think you can toy with my feelings? Ignore me when you know goddamn well all I want is to take care of you? Make sure you’re safe?

Maybe I should give you something you should really be afraid of… ”

And then I just go cold.

The last thing that motherfucker says into Violet’s voice mail is a threat—plain and simple.

I swallow back bile and grip my hands into fists. “Violet?” I want an explanation. And I want one now.

She sits up in my bed, my sheets covering her breasts.

“It’s nothing,” she says, huffing a sigh.

“He doesn’t know where I am and is mad that I wouldn’t tell him.

It’s fine. I’m fine.” She drags in a shaky breath and blows it out.

After all the gasps and groans I’ve heard from this woman today, this is different.

This sounds like fear. “And that’s why he’s my ex,” she says, trying to sound light.

I nod, not that she can see it, and go into the bathroom. I take a hot shower while I think about the ways I could tear this Clive’s face from his body.

Violet may not be mine, but she sure as fuck isn’t his. And I’m going to make sure he knows it.