Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(44)

“They're fully, completely, totally f*cked!” he growled, spittle flying through his teeth, landing on my neck.

“And babe,” he said quietly, coming closer, touching his crazed forehead to mine. “So. Are. You.”

He was right about one thing – life as I knew it was over. There was no coming back once I was face-to-face with a raging, handsome psychopath.

Definitely no coming back from the strange, sick tingle that ran through me, being this close to him. Even when he looked like he was about to strangle me on the spot, he was gorgeous, so rough and primal my brain couldn't stop the chemical reaction churning my blood.

My thighs pinched together, trembling, feeling my panties soften with my own wetness. His lips were only inches from mine, lips that cursed me, threatened me, told me they were taking over, and f*ck me if I didn't like it.

Yes, f*ck me.

Fuck.

“Joker...Jackson...” I said softly, finally at a loss for words. “It doesn't have to be this way. I trust you to protect us. We can talk the rest of this out. We can –“

“Bullshit!” he snapped, his eyes narrowing, boring into mine until my eyelids fluttered, the only defense I had left. My hands went plush against his chest, ready to push him away if I had to, even though I didn't have a prayer of making it happen. “What did I tell you about that f*ckin' mouth, Summertime? Said I'd shut it.”

It was the last thing he said before he kissed me.

That is, if a woman could call the savage pressure and teeth sinking into my bottom lip a kiss, rather than an act of total domination.

The passionate tease he'd given me the other day outside the nursing home, slamming his lips on mine? Nothing compared to this.

This was fire. This was hate. This was a man coming undone in my mouth, tearing a bitter moan out of me, and then another when his hand flew to my breast and twisted my nipple through my shirt.

My nails tangled in his shirt, raking against his chest.

Fighting him, pulling him into me all at once.

My mouth moved against his, saying things words couldn't.

But I didn't realize how much like lightning cutting across the sky this conversation was going to be until he started ripping off my clothes.

His hands roamed my body, jerking off my shirt, snapping my bra strap. My jeans and panties came down in one push, and I felt the wet trickle rolling down my thigh instantly.

“Joker...”

Big mistake, just whispering my name. He took my thighs, slammed them against the wall, and pulled my legs apart.

Then his face was buried in my *.

My fingernails were on his scalp now, pushing through his thick, dark hair, feeling for precious support. And I needed it – God, I needed it – almost as much as I'd needed this for so long.

His tongue pushed through my wetness, taking over, hitting all the right spots. My thighs were trembling, and I leaned on him, urging him in deeper, deeper, deeper while his mouth took me through heaven and hell.

Oh, God. Deeper.

“Holy shit. Joker, I'm –“ I bit my own tongue, dying from excitement.

Every time I whimpered, his mouth moved faster. My clit went between his teeth, swelled in his vice, and exploded against the first few lashes of his tongue.

He growled when I came. His rumble echoed through me, angry as a wild animal, just a steady, mad pulse of fire, hate, and sex.

Still panting through clenched teeth, I forced myself to open my eyes while he was still licking me, and saw myself in the mirror. My whole body was totally contorted. My pupils were tiny and the whites were going bloodshot, blown out by the nasty shock of the past week, and now this.

Whatever the hell this even was.

He held me while I halfway collapsed in his arms, coming up, and smashed his lips down on mine. I could taste myself on his mouth. I could taste him.

God. I tasted three f*cking years worth of built up emotion, all pouring out in this torrent.

“Fuck, I missed that sweet little cunt. You on the f*ckin' pill, or what?” he spat, pulling away from me, clenching my chin with his fingers.

“I've...I've missed a few days. It isn't safe. I'll start again tonight.”

“Then get on your knees if you don't want another kid. You're gonna suck every last drop outta me, straight down your throat.”

He pushed me down. Gently, but firmly.

My eyes went to his pants, which he pushed down a second later, along with his boxers. The pierced, magnificent dick I'd missed forever sprang out, angrier than I'd ever seen it before.

“Speak to me, Summertime. Suck me the f*ck off. Blow me so goddamned hard I forget about all the lies and the bullshit and you running, hiding, lying. Suck.”

“I didn't run,” I said angrily, trying to keep my eyes off the rock hard cock pulsing in his hand, the little bullet of his piercing shining in the dim bathroom light.

“Suck,” he repeated, reaching down, tangling his fingers through my hair. He pushed my face towards it.

Before I knew it, my mouth was full of him. Hard, hot, earthy beneath my tongue.

I bobbed my head, running my tongue along his length, searching for that spot underneath the head – the one that caused him to suck breath and growl all those years ago.

“Fuck. Shit. Goddamn, woman!” he snarled.

Bingo. I focused my tongue there, reaching up to massage his balls, amazed that these were what had given us the boy sleeping in his room.