Havoc (Storm MC 7)

“The only type I have is you. And I never want you to change anything about yourself for me.”

“But you used to like blondes with big tits. Why did you even sleep with me that first night? And why did you keep seeing me if I didn’t fit what you liked?”

Her hand was still against my chest, holding me back. I forcefully removed it, scooped her around the waist and pulled her to me. “Number one, I slept with you that first night because you turned me the fuck on. Number two, I kept seeing you because you kept turning me the fuck on. Number three, I will admit I used to love big tits, but now the only tits I want in my hands and in my mouth are yours, and I don’t give a fuck if they are an A cup or a fuckin’ F cup. Number four, I will also admit I like blonde hair. But again, the only hair I want to be pulling or getting lost in is your hair. Blonde, brunette, red, purple, what-the-fuck-ever colour you want, I’ll happily get lost in it. Number five, never, ever, change yourself for anyone. Not for me, not for anyone. You are perfect the way you are. Sure, you might argue too much with me, and you might talk my fuckin’ ear off most of the time, and you might not suck my cock as often as I’d like, but I wouldn’t have you any other way. You got all that or do I need to repeat myself? Because I’m happy to repeat myself over and fuckin’ over until that sinks in. I love you, for you.”

She stared at me with wide eyes while I made my declaration. And then she said, “You want me to suck your cock more than I already do? Fuck, Havoc, I’ve got that thing in my mouth daily. Sometimes twice a day.”

I raised a brow. “That’s what you took from that?”

Her smartass attitude that I loved returned. “Well, it seems pretty important. I don’t think I can suck it any more than I already am.”

“Carla, I just fuckin’ told you that I love you and you wanna stand here and argue about blow jobs?”

“For the record, you don’t go down on me often enough. I’d like more of that.”

I raked my fingers through my hair. “Are you fuckin’ with me here or what?”

Her lips curled into a grin and she threw her arms around my neck. “I love you, too, Mr Bossy Pants.” She kissed me before pulling away and adding, “I do stand by my last request though. There should always be more of that.”

“Duly noted.” I dropped my gaze to her body. “Babe, this dress is too short. We need to take it off and find you a new one.”

“Good try, but all my dresses are at my place, so you’ll have to live with this one tonight. And besides, there’s no way I’m fucking you before we go out, which I know is what would happen if this dress came off. It took me forever to get my hair to look this good. I’m not wrecking it with sex.”

I smirked. “I promise not to wreck it while you suck.”

She smacked me. “Suck your own damn dick. I’m going to wait outside for you because I can’t trust you at the moment.”

“Why can’t you trust me?”

“Because you have ways of convincing me that sex is always a good idea.”

“It fuckin’ is.”

She pointed towards the lounge room. “I’ll be waiting out there.” She paused for a moment and the vulnerability returned to her eyes. “Thank you for loving me the way I am,” she said softly. “I’ve never had a man do that, well, except for my brothers, but that’s different. As much as it probably doesn’t seem like it, I struggle a little with believing in myself so you accepting me means more than you’ll ever realise.”

“You put on a good show, darlin’, but I can see that your father leaving screwed you over. For the record, I like the blonde on you, but I like what’s in here,” I placed my hand over her heart, “more than your hair. Don’t ever forget that.”

Her lips curled up in a smile. “You’ve got all the right words today. Keep that shit up and I might just be the one to bring heaven to your door.”

I pressed a kiss to her lips. “You already did, angel,” I murmured, not wanting to leave this room for the night.

She held my gaze for a few moments, her eyes glazing over with desire, before turning and leaving.

I tracked her ass as she exited my room.

I loved that ass.

Almost as much as I loved her.

* * *

“You’re looking better than the last time I saw you,” Velvet remarked when she and Nash caught up with us at the clubhouse later that night.

I chuckled before taking a mouthful of beer. “I hope so.” I hadn’t seen her since a couple of days after I left the hospital when she dropped over with a casserole she’d cooked.

“He’s feeling better too, Vi. Never lets up about wanting me to suck his c—”

I cut Carla off as I took in the scowl that flashed across Nash’s face. I pressed my lips to hers in an effort to shut her up. When I pulled away, I muttered, “Fuck, woman, are you trying to cause the shit to hit the fuckin’ fan?”