Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(61)

I screwed my nose up at the visual.

“You don’t know how long I’ve f*cking visualized sliding into you again, Sparky.” The hoarseness in his voice changed from fury to desire. “But when I f*ck you I want you to be whole and healed. Cause trust me, baby, I’m not gonna want to be gentle.”

My stomach dipped and I struggled not to squirm at the erotic promise in his words. The uncomfortable bandages on my thighs stopped me from this action anyway. Any residual frustration I felt at him denying me what I wanted faded away due to the tender concern. I felt slightly vulnerable in the darkness; if I couldn’t have the connection I craved, then I just needed him. I needed him to make me feel safe, protected. If only for tonight. Tomorrow I could repair my strong independent woman armor, which had been tattered in captivity.

“Will you at least lie with me while I go back to sleep?” I asked softly.

Brock paused, and then I felt him lift me, moving me with such care you would have thought I was made of china. The bed depressed as he settled in beside me, gathering me in his muscled arms. I maneuvered myself carefully and snuggled into him, reveling in his warmth and musky man smell. We settled in silence.

“This has been all I’ve thought about for almost a year,” I whispered on the edge of sleep. I felt his body tighten as I drifted off.

A full bladder awoke me the next morning, and I didn’t have time to make the most of lying with an unconscious Brock. My favorite part of waking up with him was perving at him while he slept. He was mind numbingly attractive and looked peaceful while he slept. Plus he hadn’t pissed me off yet that day so I always thought of him fondly in those moments. A very close second was the fact he always ravaged me within moments of awaking. The only thing better than a coffee first thing in the morning was an orgasm.

I gently disentangled myself from him, fully expecting him to wake up. He was a ninja sleeper, and in the past any attempt I made to leave the bed while he was asleep was hampered by his strong arm. This time was no different. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Oh, you know, I’m off to run ten miles. I’m feeling energetic,” I replied.

The arm around my middle tightened, which was not good news for my bladder. “I’ve never met someone whose first words in the morning were dripping with sarcasm, Sparky,” he said teasingly.

“Yeah, well, I’m special,” I snapped. “Let me up.”

I looked over my shoulder impatiently, surprised at the emotion on Brock’s face. I couldn’t place it, and thanks to my bladder I didn’t have time to ponder it.

“Let me up, I need to pee,” I demanded.

Brock did not let me go. What he did do was sit up, and in an impressive yet infuriating gesture got off the bed with me in his arms.

“What are you doing?” I protested. “I assume that’s the bathroom.” I pointed to a door in the corner. “I think I could have made it on my own two feet.”

Brock walked us to the door. “I disagree. Hansen specifically said to stay off those impressive legs until he said any different.”

I scoffed as we entered a surprisingly nice bathroom, complete with a decent-sized shower stall and bath in the corner. “I don’t think the five paces it takes to get to the bathroom are going to result in any life-threatening issues,” I said dryly as he put me down.

“I’m not taking any chances,” Brock declared, standing in front of me, hands lightly on my hips. His blue eyes were intent on mine and I blinked, trying to ignore the intensity in them.

I waited a beat for him to leave, but he kept staring. “Um okay, we’ve succeeded in carting me in here. You can leave now.”

His hands released my hips and he crossed his arms, stepping back slightly. “I’m not going anywhere,” he declared ridiculously.

I widened my eyes and fought against my pressing need. “Yeah, you are. I’m not peeing in front of you.”

“I’ve f*cked you. Multiple times. Multiple ways. I’ve seen every inch of you. Tasted every inch of you. I don’t care.”

I ignored the desire that pooled at his words, which was easy as my frustration was mounting. “You’re ridiculous. What do you think I’m going to do? Fall in?”

Brock raised an eyebrow. “I know you’re going to walk out of here if I leave the room, which is exactly what I’m trying to avoid.”

Okay, this was taking protectiveness to a whole ‘nother level. “Okay, so you obviously lost a lot more blood yesterday than anyone realized and you’ve gone temporarily insane,” I declared, jiggling my foot just a little. Brock didn’t move a muscle and I knew he was serious. “What if I promise I will,” I mentally cringed, “do my business and then won’t move until you come in to carry me back to my bed?” I couldn’t believe I just uttered such a statement.

Brock eyed me and my jiggling knee for a second before nodding. I expected him to walk out but he was on me in two steps, plastering his mouth to mine. I immediately forgot about my need and pressed into him. He pulled away far too quickly.

“Mornin’ baby,” he smirked and left the room.

I stood, mouth agape for a second before I realized the reason I was standing in the bathroom. I did my business and walked to the door, opening it to a pissed-off looking Brock. I would never admit that the short journey had me feeling slightly breathless, my limbs feeling like lead and my legs throbbing.