Crash (Brazen Bulls MC #1)(96)

He was the * so many women had called him so many times. Because he couldn’t do the right thing. He f*cking wanted this. He wanted it so bad. He’d always wanted this—no, that was wrong. He’d never wanted this, because he’d never been able to imagine loving like this, or being loved like this. He’d never thought to have something so good. He couldn’t give it up.

Maybe Willa made him better. If he could love her right, love their kid right, maybe that would keep the good from draining out.

Stopping her hand from its fussing around his shoulder, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed it. “I’m okay, Wills. I just need you is all.”

She smiled and stepped close. “Come to bed and let me take care of you.”

“Whatever you think’s best.”



oOo



He let her strip him and change his dressing, and he withstood her motherly disapproval when she saw that the sutures had been strained a little. But he refused the painkillers.

“They make my mind fog up, and they make me tired.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning, honey. It’s okay to be tired.”

“I don’t want ‘em, Wills.” He didn’t need an opiate kick to his dreams on this night.

Relenting, she helped him prop himself up against the headboard, wedging a pillow under his arm for extra support for his shoulder—it hurt too much to lie flat. Then she went to the foot of the bed and climbed on, taking the space against the wall. The room was too small for the bed to fit anywhere but in the corner. She’d said she liked it that way, that it felt ‘cozy’ sleeping between him and the wall.

She curled on her side, facing him. “I love you.”

He smiled down at her. “I love you, too.”

“Something’s wrong.”

He’d promised to tell her everything, but he couldn’t tell her about this night. Not now, at least, while it still ransacked his head. “No, baby. Just sore and tired—and no, I’m not gonna take your drugs. Fuckin’ pusher.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but it struck too close to home, and he went quiet.

She was quiet, too, for a few seconds, and then she rose up onto her elbow. “You know…serotonin can be a natural pain reliever. And it can help you sleep.”

“What’s serotonin?”

“Our bodies release it naturally when we come—it’s what makes that little cloud of calm after an orgasm.”

The light on the chest of drawers was still on, so Rad could see the wry gleam in Willa’s eyes, and he chuckled. “Baby, you know I’d f*ck you morning, noon, and night, every day from now until the grave if I could, but I don’t think I’m up to it just now.”

“I’m not asking you to f*ck me. I’m just saying you should relax and let me take care of you.”

She scooted down under the covers, and he watched as the lump that was her head moved over his hips. She picked up his soft cock in her hand.

His mind couldn’t make this left turn. “Wills…”

“Shhh. Let me make you feel better.”

He felt her breath skim over his tip, and then her mouth was there, and he filled out inside that wet warmth. “Fuck,” he grunted.

Needing to see her, he flipped the covers away, and they slid off the bed, onto Ollie, who sat up and gave him a dirty look, then went over to his bed and dropped into it with a grouchy huff.

Rad paid him no mind. Of much greater interest and importance was Willa bobbing on his cock, her full lips stretched around him, her eyes closed. She lifted away and came back to run her tongue over him, circling his tip, licking a long line up his shaft, all the way from the base. Then she blew lightly over him, cooling the warmth her mouth had made, and he shivered. She wrapped her hand firmly around him and sucked him straight down, taking him in all the way to her fist, and his back arched.

Somewhere far away, there was a pain that should have been sharp, but already his shoulder was forgotten. Now the ache in his gut, rolling out through his cock, had his full attention. “Ride me, Wills. I need to be inside you.”

She pulled back and looked up at him. Her lips glistened, and it was all he could do not to sit forward and grab her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I need it.”

“I don’t want you to pull sutures. You have to relax and let me do everything. No grabbing, no thrusting. Just be still and feel.”

“Okay. Just get the f*ck on me.”

With her eyes locked on his, searching, he knew, for the slightest sign of discomfort, she straddled him, took hold of his cock, and sat down on it. He hissed and reared his head back as he was sheathed in her and her wonderful tight muscles contracted around him—he was f*cking close to blowing his wad already.

“Rad, relax.”

He coughed out a laugh. “If you knew how you felt…” When she shifted slightly to the side, as if to get off of him, he quickly added, “Okay, okay.” He made a show of taking a deep breath—and ignored the catch he felt in his shoulder. When he let the air out, he smiled, meaning it to say Satisfied?

She must have been, because her hips began to rock, and to sway, and to twist. Her eyes stayed fixed on his, and she moved slowly, sensually, and with tender care. Sweet Jesus.