Tirone (The Night Skulls MC #2)(45)

My tears sparkled in my vision and dropped on the back of my hands. “You’ve always made me feel beautiful.”

“Because I love you for you, not because you look like some fantasy or an old flame.” He printed a kiss on my knuckles. “But showing me your real looks wasn’t what mattered that night. You opened your soul to me, and so did I.”

“I remember.” I’d told him, without names, who I was and what destiny awaited me. He was so brave with his acceptance, and his over protectiveness doubled. He, too, shared with me his history about his dead dad, the dark feelings and aches he carried because of it.

“Remember what else you told me that night? I’d never forget those doe eyes you made when you said it. I’m tired of being punished. Tired of feeling like a bad girl. I want to be your good girl, and I want to earn it.”

The memory hit me hard, waves and waves of emotions and desire.

“That night I learned your body better than my own,” he said. “I gave you everything you needed, and had you writhing, screaming and begging for more.”

I licked my lips involuntarily. I breathed out slowly, averting my gaze, rubbing my thighs together, hoping it’d take down the deluge of nagging need a notch.

“Don’t try to hide or deny it. It’s what you need, and I’m right here, begging you to let me take care of you because you’re such a good girl.”

“Tirone…um…you’re bleeding and hurt. Let me… Jesus… Let me help you first.”

“See?” His lips feathered on my fingers before his tongue licked them one by one. “Always a good girl. My good girl.”

“Oh God.” I jumped, heat cascading from my cheeks to my neck and down to my core. I fumbled with the drugstore bag, but I couldn’t focus or even see what was inside. I was thinking with my ovaries. Everything in me with wrapped around the memory and the impulsive arousal those two fucking words induced. “Can you wait for me in the bathroom and run the hot water please?”

“You got it, Miss Meneceo. I’m your good boy, too.”

Fuck me. Biting my lip, I closed my eyes. Then I tried to even my caught breath in vain.

After several inhales and exhales, I gained a window of cohesion and managed to focus on the things I needed to patch him up. “That’s all I’m doing,” I whispered to myself. “Clean and stitch him up. Then I’m sending him to Fort and going straight to bed, alone.”

Like a good girl.

Shit.

I wiped my face with both hands, practically slapping myself. Then I shook my head with long exhale, taking the bag and heading into the bathroom.

He was sitting on the edge of the tub, stripped to his boxers. I looked. I fucking leered. Even with the bruises, cuts and blood, he was gorgeous. That deep sinewy V peeking out, bracketing his pelvis… I dragged my gaze to his neatly folded clothes away from the water splash range. “Why did you take your clothes off?”

“I was under the impression you wanted me naked.”

My nipples hardened. “A-a-re you hurt in your legs, too?”

“Maybe. I wasn’t aware of what I was doing at the compound. We’ll have to check my whole body to see where it really hurts.”

I moaned audibly. He smirked and slid down his boxers, too. “Holy…” My head whipped away. “Jesus, Ty.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before…or played with before.”

“Oh my God. All right. Okay. I’m an adult here and can do this.” I can’t do this, not without soaking my panties and aching for his cock.

“I’m an adult now, too, you know? Have been for a while.”

“Doesn’t look like it, not with the way you behave.”

“What have I done now, Miss Meneceo? You asked me to come here and run the hot water.”

“To clean you up and close your wounds.”

“If you say so…”

Sweating, I sprinkled water on his face and shoulders. Then I started to wash off the blood. Our breaths did their usual forbidden dance, wreaking havoc on my body. The way his gaze kept dipping to my lips as I patched the wounds on his face and upper body didn’t help either. Visions of our past kisses played behind my hooded eyelids, begging for a reminder.

“Angel of my heart and dreams, how I wish it was me you saw when you have your fantasies,” he breathed.

Like I could see anything but him right now…

I worked as fast as I could, but my trembling fingers treacherously lingering instead of speeding. His body was sin. Firm and hot and inviting.

“Your aura brightly glows, heaves of your breasts giving you away. Sensuality flows from you, my love. Your sweet curves are begging for attention. My imagination debauched and decadent. You tantalize my everyplace. But nothing quite excites me as…the smile in your doe eyes you only have for me… Look at me, Jo.”

I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be weak. Yet, as if in a trance, I lifted my gaze to him, giving him what he demanded. The smiling doe eyes I’d never had for anyone but him.

“That’s my good girl.”

“Tirone, you have to stop.”

“Don’t fight me, good girl. I’ll make this good for both of us,” he said softly.

I knew he would. That was what scared me the most. “I don’t want to be a weak, little whore for you.”