Page 40 of Blackbeard
Leigh chuckled.
“It’s not my fault that your family adores me.”
I packed up my medical kit and leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms. My gaze roamed over Leigh’s bare legs as she reached up to grab two mugs from the cabinet.
For a split second, I allowed myself to entertain the idea of closing the space between us. Pinning her against the counter. Sliding the hem of her robe up around her waist to reveal her hips and that plump ass. If she was wearing panties—which I doubted—I would hook my tattooed fingers into the skimpy, lacy fabric and drag it down, pooling around her ankles.
I envisioned myself unbuckling my belt, dragging the head of my cock along her slit before sinking in deep.
Last night, when she flung herself at me, I didn’t give in. No matter how many times she pouted and sulked and demanded to be fucked, I managed to hold fast to my resolve that I would keep my distance and clear my head.
But it wasn’t easy.
I wanted the scorching silk of her pussy squeezing every last drop from my cock again. I wanted to caress every inch of her body and watch the arousal build and build—pinching her nipples, stroking her clit until she babbled needy nonsense.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about that goddamn hot pink vibrator she’d oh-so-strategically placed on my nightstand.
“Get dressed,” I said gruffly, wrenching my gaze away from her. “We have plans for the day.”
Leigh glanced over her shoulder at me.
“Not even a pretty please? What if I’m busy?”
“Then clear your schedule,” I replied. “The Blackjacks are meeting at Hot Shot’s garage to help him clean up. You’re coming too.”
She pursed her lips in consideration.
“Manual labor isn’t really my thing, honey. But let me give Dad a call. He can send over a few of his men—”
“No,” I cut in. “Hot Shot has been through enough. No Forsaken. He’s still recovering from that gunshot wound your daddy’s boys gave him. Seeing Forsaken anywhere near his garage again would probably put him in cardiac arrest.”
Leigh gestured to herself.
“What makes you think Hot Shot will be excited to see me then?”
“Oh, he won’t.” I grabbed my medical kit as I made my way out the door. “But you’re the woman I married, so you have to learn how to play nice with others.”
I revved the engine of my motorcycle for a third time, signaling to Leigh that it was time to go. She finally emerged from the house, wearing black jeans that looked like they were painted on, and a snug-fitting lilac crop top.
Zipping up her padded leather riding jacket and shouldering her purse, she took her sweet time walking down the porch steps until she reached the driveway.
“It’s about time you showed up,” I said, holding out a spare helmet to her.
She took it, settling it on her head and aligning the straps under her chin with well-practiced familiarity.
“I can’t say I’m looking forward to this. It’s our first outing as a couple, and I would have preferred something a little more romantic—maybe a spa date, or wine tasting.”
“I guess you’ll just have to get used to disappointment, sweetheart,” I replied. “Hop on.”
Leigh perked up with a wry little smile and slid onto the back of my bike. She cuddled up tightly against my back, locking her arms around my waist. When her lips ghosted along the curve of my neck and my cock jumped, that’s when I realized what a vulnerable position I’d unwittingly put myself in.
Leigh slid her hands along my torso and chest, inside my cut, blatantly feeling me up. She skimmed one hand lower, dipping past my belt, grazing my groin. I caught her wrist firmly.
“I would appreciate it if your wandering hands didn’t put us in the hospital.”
“Then let’s blow everybody off and go back to bed,” Leigh replied.
I laughed and shook my head.
