Now it’s ruined, stained with dirt and blood, torn at the hem where she stepped on it.
“I’d kick my own ass all over again for being responsible for your dress being ruined.”
She doesn’t even blink as she goes back to mopping me up, so careful and gentle that it makes me, a grown fucking man, want to get choked up.
“I don’t care about the dress. I care about you.”
“And your dad and Leah.” I sigh hard, my shoulders lifting up. It fucking hurts my face just doing it, but I don’t care.
“Yes. Of course.” She dabs at the cut on my cheek.
I looked at myself in the rear view mirror of her car on the drive here, and god, it’s astounding how much damage a fist can do, even without rings on, since Steel wears them on his left hand—a small mercy.
“This is a fucking mess. All of it.” I reach up and grip her wrist. “Never should have done any of this with you. You should have found someone your own age at college.” Just saying the words makes me want to die from the pain that they cause, panic and rage, sorrow and fear sweeping through me at the thought of losing her.
Harley pulls back and looks at me. “Shut the fuck up.” She enunciates every single word, so that it comes out loud and crisp and clear.
I try to smile, but when I do, it cracks my lip open again and I groan. I go to reach up to wipe the fresh trickle away, but Harley drops the cloth. Her hands shoot out to my wrist, stilling me as her warm fingers wrap around it. She leans in, her hair fluttering around her shoulders like a dark halo, my beautiful dark angel. A fallen angel, since she’s come to hell to try and save me.
Her breath is warm on my lips, a whisper and a promise and like every day before this one, she slays me. Her tongue trails along my bottom lip, licking over the wound, lapping up the blood dribbling from the split.
It stings, but that pain, all the pain, mingles with the roar of desire that hammers through me, lethal and deadly. The force of it plows me over and it’s all I can do to contain a caveman yell, grip Harley by her slender hips, and slam her down against my cock, which is struggling to punch a hole in my jeans. I want her to ride me. Dry hump the fuck out of me until that dress is split right down the sides from it, until her panties are fucking soaked with her cream, until I’m shooting my load in my jeans like a horny fucking teenager.
“Harley,” I warn, the word torn from my throat, guttural and achy, when she pulls back. I know that she can’t hear me, but her eyes darken when they meet mine—at least the one that isn’t swollen shut.
Her eyes rake over my face as her hand cups my cheek, the undamaged side. Her touch heals the wounds ripping at my insides. I watch as those beautiful gray irises tear up, the moisture leaking out of the corners when she blinks to run down her cheeks, past the salt-stained mascara streaks from before.
“I love Leah and my dad,” she whispers, the sound all wrong past her raw throat. “I love them, but I’m an adult. I’m twenty-one, for fuck’s sake. My dad can be angry if he wants. It’s not going to change anything. My life is with you. We waited so long for this. Don’t let him take it from us. We knew he’d be pissed. I thought I could talk him down, but there’s still time. I’m going over there in the morning and I’ll figure this out.”
“Not alone you aren’t.”
She smiles at my possessive tone, even though she can’t hear it. “I definitely am going alone. Unless you want a repeat of what just happened.” Her hand caresses my cheek. “You still have the good side of your face. Don’t ask for that to be fucked up too. You don’t need matching black eyes.”
Her lips curl in a hint of a smile, and I’m amazed that she can still smile at all.
My hands curl around her waist. “I want you in my bed, Harley, but not like this. Not with bad blood still flowing and looking like I was just put through a fucking meat grinder. Don’t want that to be your memory of our first time.”
“Shhh,” she whispers as her fingers trail, whisper light, over my lips. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Ever. I’ll lay beside you tonight, because we’ve waited so long for this, I feel like I’ve waited my whole life, and I know it’s important to you that it’s done right. So we’ll go to your bedroom, and I’ll pretend I’m not fucking amazed by it, because I’ve never been in there. I’ll get out of this stupid dress, and I’ll put on one of your t-shirts and we’ll go to bed lying side by side, because that’s how it’s always going to be. It’s official now, Edge. You’re stuck with me.”
“Fuck,” I groan as she leans in to rest her forehead against mine. Somehow what we’re doing now, fully clothed, is more intimate than any of the kisses I’ve ever stolen from her, than anything I imagined doing to her.
She manages to slide off my lap and when she offers a hand, I take it. She waits for me to pull my ass off the couch and follow her. Follow I do, because I might be nearly as fucking big as Steel, nearly as scary, the VP of the club, a man other men respect, a man some fear, a man entrenched in this life through the spilling of blood, but this woman will always have the power to bring me to my fucking knees.
I know that this night is going to be torture, and not just because of that beating Steel handed out. Tonight I’ll lie beside her this one last time and not touch her.
Tomorrow though…
Tomorrow, I’ll claim her, mark her, bend her to my will, love her fucking good and proper until she’s screaming my name, shaking and trembling, her cum running down my fingers, her legs, coating my lips and my cock.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
Chapter Four
Harley
Edge fell into bed, exhausted, completely clothed, as soon as I helped him into the bedroom. He was asleep almost instantly. Ten minutes later, I’m still standing here beside the bed, letting my eyes trace around the room like a gentle caress, soaking in every single detail of the room I’ve imagined a thousand times over in my mind.
Like the rest of the house, it’s sparsely furnished. No décor on the walls, the blinds at the windows broken and hanging askew, the comforter on the bed old and faded with too many washings. The bed looks soft and comfortable though. There’s a small, beat up nightstand beside it, and a larger dresser in the corner.
