The Purest Hook (Second Circle Tattoos #3)(74)

“Dred,” she gasped.

Heaven. Hearing her groan, feeling her fingers dig into his shoulders, seeing the way she gave herself over to him fully. She was his, and he was going to be hers.

“I love you, Snowflake,” he murmured against her lips as he stared into eyes he knew loved him back. He thrust into her in long steady strokes. Watching her, teasing her. It had taken years of f*cking to realise that making love was the most incredible thing in the world. “Come for me baby, please. I need it. We both need it.”

Pixie stayed with him, her mouth open against his as she started to come. “Dred, I’m—”

She ground her hips against his, clawing his skin to get closer. Dred slid his hands around her ass, and pulled her flush to him, giving her what she needed. Giving them both what they deserved.

*

A loud series of bangs roused Pixie. The room was bathed in the glow of dusk, and for a second she couldn’t figure out where she was until she remembered the warm body she was curled up against was Dred and her heart settled. They’d made love twice before succumbing to what was obviously the sleep of the dead.

“Snowflake. We need to get up,” he said shaking her gently. “It’s nearly seven. We’ve been out for a while.”

Nikan shouted something as he walked up the stairs, and she heard his bedroom door close. If Nikan was back, it was highly likely the rest of the guys were too. And Petal. She lifted her head and squinted one eye at him. “I can’t wait to meet her,” she said, her voice still rough with sleep.

Dred grinned. He was as excited as she was. “So get dressed and I’ll go get her.”

“Eew. No. I need to shower. I’m sweaty and smell—”

“Sexy?” he said, pulling her toward him, kissing her soundly. “Delicious?”

“Well used,” she said with a laugh and pushed him away.

She climbed across him instead of getting out on the other side of the bed, and smiled as he took in the view of her legs spread wide across him.

“You said you did yoga right?”

“Yes, why?”

He placed his hands on the very top of her thighs and rubbed his thumbs along the crease, the action turning her on. “Because I’m curious how wide those legs can go,” he said with a wink.

“Oh my God,” she said, hitting his chest before climbing off him. “I’m going to get cleaned up. Alone. Can you get my suitcase, please?”

She walked to the shower and smiled at the bassinet he’d placed in the middle of the walk-through closet. Turning on the taps and allowing curls of steam to fill the bathroom, she sang. She’d listened to Evita on the plane and couldn’t stop singing about being Christian Dior’d from her head to her toes.

Pixie stepped under the hot water, letting it run down her body and loosen her muscles. She showered quickly using Dred’s toiletries, excited to meet his daughter. When she was done, she wrapped her hair in a towel and secured a larger one around her body.

Still humming, she wandered back into the bedroom to find her case on the bed, and Dred, who was now wearing a pair of shorts, grinning.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome. Read this,” he said, handing her a yellow sticky note that read I’M ASLEEP IN UNCLE JORDAN’S ROOM AND I SHIT ON UNCLE LENNON. “My daughter is the poop queen.”

He tugged at the corner of her towel. She batted his hand away, and he laughed as he walked into the bathroom.

By the time he finished, Pixie was dressed, her wet hair tied back off her face. There didn’t seem much point blow-drying her hair and she wasn’t prepared to waste another moment.

Dred pulled on some clothes and led her to the door. “Okay. Let’s go get her.”

Her heart raced as they walked upstairs. She didn’t have much experience with babies. Actually she didn’t have any. Who knew what the rules were for girlfriends meeting baby daughters? She was sure one of those mom-chat websites she’d looked at briefly in preparation for meeting Petal had an opinion on it, but she was ready to make her own rules. Just so long as she didn’t do anything stupid. Like dropping her, which was her worst fear.

Dred pushed Jordan’s door open. “Yo, J,” he said as they walked inside.

Pixie looked around the room, the disparity between the two ends made her want to cry. She knew Jordan had some kind of issues that kept the band living together, but the decor spoke volumes. At one end, the room was sparse, barren of anything. Jordan sat on a double bed, which seemed uncomfortable for a man of his stature. There was a desk, but it had nothing on it except a spiral notebook and a pen. But the corner he’d created for Petal . . . it was as if spring had sprung. From the point where the two walls met was a beautiful mural of a field with wildflowers. A white crib sat pushed up against it, while a large mobile with butterflies, bees, and dragonflies swirled overhead, casting shadows over the crib.

Her heart hurt at the thought that these men were trying to give Petal everything they hadn’t known. At some point, she needed to ask Dred what had happened to the five of them that made them stick together like they had, and why Jordan was so pivotal.

“She’s been awake for a minute or two,” Jordan said. “Hey, Pixie. Can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. He’s been a miserable bastard to be around the last week or so.”