Page 60 of The Biker and the Loner
"Nah.” She shakes her head. “The entire security system is hooked up to my phone, so…I’ve been checking. She's been getting drunk and high and crying all day."
By her shoulders, I urge her around to face me, then take the knife from her grip and set it aside. "What do you want me to do, Ley. How can I help?"
She wags her head. "Aside from moving back in, coddle and enable her, there's nothing I can do except to reach out to her family to get her help. But Ihave tolet go. She's been my problem, my pain, and my prison for too long. I just need to stop looking back, you know." She tilts her face upward and lifts her hands to loop around my neck. "You're my forward."
"Damn right I am." I grip her ass and slam her up against me. "Now kiss your man."
No hesitation, she tips up on her toes and kisses me, her lips soft and delicate. Letting me in to take control, lave her mouth.
She fits my arms, my palms, molds perfectly against me. Leyana’s mine.All mine.
I dip a hand between us and cup her. She gets wet so fucking easily. Love that shit. Her arousal dampens the crotch of her shorts in no time.
"Wanna...eat you…so...bad," I tell her between kisses.
She immediately stiffens. "No."
"I know, babe."
So yeah, my woman won't let me eat her out because of that disgusting bitch. Been sucking her dry since she was twelve and now the entire act is repulsive to her. I want to drag my tongue along her slit, suck on her clit, feel her quivering thighs around my head, but she won't let me. And I don't know what to do about it. She might never get over that shit and eating pussy is one of my favorite things to do. How in the world can I own a fat, juicy pussy like hers andnothave it on my face?
Yep, that sick bitch sure is lucky the old me died in battle.
Shorts unzipped, I slip my fingers down her panties and inside her hot wetness and work her over until she comes apart, shaking, her eyes squeezed shut, nails digging into my flesh.
When she falls lax against me, I withdraw my hand and lick her clean from my fingers while she watches.
It’s the closest I’m ever going to get to having her for dinner.
Chapter 13
Ley
I'm panting, drenchedin cold sweats and the aftershocks of fear.
Another one. Another nightmare that eludes me the second I'm thrashed awake.
Sweeping my hair back from my face, I glance over to Scratch who's deep in slumber beside me. I can't wake him, he'll go batshit; I've learned to let him wake on his own.
It's been almost two months since I've moved in with him, since we've embarked on this "relationship" journey together, and let's just say things have been dreamy so far. So unbelievably dreamy that I'm wary, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
This isScratchwe're talking about. Manwhore extraordinaire. I want to believe that I’m enough for him, enough to hold his attention for a lifetime, but I'm not delusional. I know this thing, whatever it is, has a shelf life.
That doesn't mean I'm not taking advantage of it and enjoying every second it lasts, though.
He's tender, except for when he's rough. He's attentive, except for when he's a jerk. He's caring, except for when he's annoyingly bossy. He's spectacular in bed, except for when he's...nah, he'salwaysspectacular in bed. No exceptions.
We've pretty much settled into an easy life together here in Opal Meadows. I’d expected a bit of awkwardness with acclimatizing to each other’s quirks and being in each other’s space at first, but there was none of that. Probably because Scratch's pretty much handed me full control of the house and lets me have my way.
For instance, we're currently sleeping on a pink unicorn comforter and pillowcases that I bought last week. When he came home and saw it, he’d just arched his brow at me and asked, "That shit makes you happy?"
I'd responded with an enthusiastic nod.
"Good," he replied, then stripped and went for a shower. And that was that.
I'm happy because he allows me to do whatever makes me feel good. He’s even stopped sweating about me going out to hang with Isaac. According to him, he trusts me implicitly, just not Isaac, but that most of all, he knows how much it means to me to have my freedom.
Also, he's a super easy boyfriend—not that I've ever had a boyfriend before to measure him up against. But going from most women’s relationship woes, with the carping and whining I’ve overheard, I always assumed boyfriends were unreasonable headaches. Relationships had sounded exhausting, so I never longed to be in one. But so far, dating Scratch is a breeze. As long as he's fed—with good food, sex, and a well-rolled joint—he’s good. Like, that's it.
