Crash (Brazen Bulls MC #1)(20)

She shivered. Night had fallen, and the warmth of the young spring day had faded to a cool that remembered a winter not long past. “Can we go inside and finish this?”

“Sure.” Rad stood and picked up the bucket, the bag, and the three empty beer bottles. Willa stacked the plates and silverware on the placemats and napkins and picked up her half-full beer. He followed her into the house, and Ollie followed him.

In the kitchen, Rad put the bottles on the counter and the bucket and sack in the refrigerator while she rinsed the dishes. Grabbing another beer before he closed the fridge, he turned and watched her at the sink. The back of her neckline scooped down a little, showing her neck and the top of her back. With her short hair, and her posture at the sink, he thought he saw a hint of ink peeking out from her dress.

He didn’t even try to resist the urge that came on him. Crossing to stand just behind her, he set his beer on the counter and drew a finger down her neck, over the beads of her spine, until he hooked her dress and pulled, just enough to see a bluebird between her shoulder blades.

She gasped at his touch and went still. The water ran from the faucet into the drain.

Rad had a lot of ink. In his world, everybody had ink, but even there, he had more than most. Tattoos had always been a way to mark himself out as different and to chronicle his life. But in the past few years, civilians were starting to wear it, too. Not everybody, still mainly people who stood on the edges a bit, but he was seeing more ink on ‘regular’ people, like Willa.

This was no drunken indiscretion, no Tweety Bird flash on the ass that had been regretted with a hangover the next morning. It was a delicate, artfully done piece.

He meant to speak, to comment on the tattoo, but his mouth had gone dry, and he could see her pulse throbbing at the side of her throat. He licked his lips and put his mouth on her neck, at the point where it joined her shoulders. He felt the rise of her body as she took in a deep breath, and the fall as she let it out.

Needing to taste her, he slid his tongue out and ran it over her skin. Cool from the night air, and sweet.

“Rad,” she whispered, and he answered with a groan and put his body around hers, framing her legs and arms with his. He kissed her again, this time at her shoulder, up the side of her neck, her ear. He took her chin and turned her head so that he could reach her mouth.

His other hand slid up the left side of her body, lifting her dress, skimming over the soft, firm skin of her thigh until his fingers slid under the elastic band of her underwear.

Willa moaned into his mouth and began to turn toward him—

The move was awkward, and her moan became a grunt, and Rad remembered that she was hurt. With a pang made of disappointment and guilt, he took a step back. He’d been close to f*cking her right there. His body cramped with thwarted desire.

She seemed dazed and as disappointed as he was, but she shook it off with a little laugh. “Jesus.”

“Yeah. We should go sit and talk.”

“That’s what you want to do?”

“No. I want to f*ck you till your eyes cross. You think your leg can take that?”

She stared down at her leg, and Rad could sense her seriously considering the question. He grinned at that. He, too, had been trying to think of a way to f*ck her without hurting her—but he’d come up empty.

“Probably not.”

“Didn’t think so. Let’s talk. I need a distraction.”

With a wistful sigh, she picked up her beer, took his hand, and limped toward the front of the house.

He pulled back and turned off her faucet, which she’d left running.





CHAPTER SIX



Willa limped to the living room, Rad following just behind her, and Ollie bringing up the rear, his tags jingling.

Still reeling from that kiss, her legs shook, making her limp even more pronounced, and she felt like Frankenstein’s monster lurching across the moors.

God, that kiss. The way his hand had skimmed up her thigh, hot and rough. The harsh rumble of his groan. The lightning charge of his words. I want to f*ck you till your eyes cross.

Her belly ached hotly with need. The last thing she wanted to do now was talk about Jesse. She wanted to turn and head down the hallway to her bedroom.

But her leg really did hurt. After she’d gotten back from Rad’s station, she’d spent most of the day on the sofa, with her knee propped up and an ice bag wrapped in the elastic bandage, and she’d floated through the afternoon on the cloud of a couple of Percocets, but she’d woken stiff, and she’d been using it too much since then. It actually hurt more now than it had the night before.

So no eye-crossing sex was going to happen tonight. That sucked.

At the sofa, she set her beer on the coffee table then eased herself onto the cushions. Before she could shove a pillow under her knee, Rad was there, sitting just next to her and lifting her legs gently, laying them over his lap. The gesture was sweet and possessive, but it made Willa feel vulnerable, with her dress hiked up and her legs, bare except for the bandage, over his legs, under his hands.

Then he asked, “This okay?” and it was.

Getting her nod, he took a long drink of his beer, then set the bottle next to hers on the table. “What happened after he went home from your dorm?”

Willa hated this. With the exception of cops and lawyers, she’d never spoken in great detail about all that had happened with Jesse. Her family back home had known it in real time. She’d never had to roll the whole thing out to someone whose opinion of her she cared about.