When I release her, she’s panting as if I already touched her. I can guarantee she’s wet. But not wet enough.Yet. I’ll get her nice and slick. Soak her good. And when she’s ready for me, I’ll make her filthy, just like she wants.
But first, I have to play, because I am me after all.
“And I want you naked,” I yell only once she’s halfway across the courtyard.
Faith freezes misstep. Her spine stiffens, and her shoulders bunch. I expect her to keep on walking. Pretend I didn’t shout it loud enough for Crow, Rotten, and about a dozen other people to hear—and laugh at—my demand.
Not my girl.
She gives as good as she gets.
Faith turns on her heel, a beautiful smirk playing on her lips. “Not a problem, Jester,” she yells back. “But if I’m stripping down to the raw, you better bring your A-game.”
Her exit from the courtyard is epic. She strolls into Sanctum like a queen, with a chorus of cheers and applause echoing after her.
“Oh my God, I love her,” Ava shouts.
Tempest rips out a whistle, then adds, “Jester, I’m keeping her.”
Jamie cups her mouth with her hand and yells at me, “She’s going to destroy you.”
Don’t I know it.
But what a way to go.
There are worse ways to die than as a happy man slaughtered by the woman he loves.
I ride off the track and leave my bike in the garage. As expected, I get the verbal shit kicked out of me as I cross the yard. This is me not giving a damn. Why? Because while all these motherfuckers are out here drinking and waiting for the food to cook, I’ll be inside getting the last laugh—balls-deep in Faith.
* * *
She’s naked.
As I expected.
My girl was never one to cower from a challenge. It’s one of the bazillion reasons she’s perfect.
Also, her body is incredible.
The room may be dark with the black blinds closed, but I can see her fine through the dim lamplight. Stretched out on the bed with her long legs crossed at the ankles, she’s propped up on her elbows, watching me. Her hair—God, I love her hair—is puddled behind her. My mind gets stuck on her diabetes for half a second because it’s always in the background. I give myself a mental kick in the ass for not grabbing something sweet for her. I’m about to sprint back to the yard to grab whatever I can find, but a glance around the room shows me her trusty bag is with us. Of course, it is. She never goes anywhere without it. Like she says, her life depends on what’s in that backpack.
When she beckons me over with a crook of her finger, my feet move before my brain consciously commands them. “What took so long?”
“Had to put away my bike,” I tell her. When the tip of her tongue trails over her lower lip, she might as well lick my entire dick because holy hell, I feel it like a physical touch. “I stink.”
“Don’t care.” She runs her gaze over me as I peel off my jersey and toss it on the floor. “You looked damn fine on the back of that Honda.”
“Yeah, well, it’s what I do,” I tease. “I live to turn you on.”
And I’m deadass here. I never gave a crap about people’s opinions. But her? I want to make her happy. I want her to like me. How insane is that?
“Mission accomplished,” she rasps as I unzip the durable polyester riding pants.
Before I take off the pants, I need to remove the heavy black boots, and it’s a whole process. I drop on the edge of the bed and release the three locks that band around my calves. Faith doesn’t make the task easy because she crawls over to me and wraps herself around my torso, scorching my already heated flesh with little kisses. By the time I yank off the second boot, my dick is so hard it fucking hurts.
Finally, I get the boots off, and I shoot to my feet to shimmy out of my clothes. And then we’re both naked, and she’s mine for the taking. I shove her backward onto the mattress. “You done went and fucked up, woman.”
She holds up a hand, making an exaggerated shaking motion. “Oh, no. Look at me, all scared. I’m downright petrified. Whatever shall I do?”
