“You did everything right, baby.” Especially making a flash drive with the footage. Though that’s probably what put her in the most danger, it’s what would eventually bring her fiancé to heel. Because after tonight, Olivia wouldn’t be responsible for that flash drive any longer. It’d have a new home tucked away in the MC’s safe. He’d fucking love to see Lance try to bust his way into the clubhouse.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I keep replaying it. Maybe I should’ve sent the footage to the media or the cops. Something to get justice for that girl.”
He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back so he could see those gorgeous green eyes. “First of all, like you told me, the cops live in Lance’s pocket. Look at Curly’s experience with the police. It’s not always the best option. And second, going to the media would’ve created a shitstorm that would have painted a target on that girl’s back and a bigger one on yours. We’ll get justice, Liv. MC style. It’ll be swift, and it’ll be harsh. Then we’ll find her and let her know she’s safe too.”
“Thank you,” she said, cupping his face between her hands. He nuzzled into her palm.
There was more she wanted to say. He could see it in her eyes. The way she gazed at him like he wasn’t a broken man with demons he’d battle for the rest of his life, but someone worthy of her. But she didn’t speak. Instead, she brought her mouth to his as she shifted until straddling his lap.
He couldn’t help it. He’d grown hard all over again not long ago. What the fuck was he supposed to do when the sexiest woman in the world was naked in his lap?
Olivia kissed him like she was starving. Like she wanted to crawl inside and merge her soul with his. He kissed her back just as hard, tangling his fingers in her hair to keep her mouth where he wanted it. He wanted nothing more than to stay just like this for the rest of the night.
But Liv had other ideas. Without breaking the kiss, she reached between their bodies and encircled his erection with her soft hands. He bucked and groaned into her mouth. She swallowed the sound as she positioned her soaked pussy over the head of his cock.
Instead of taking him inside like his leaking cock demanded, the minx teased the fuck out of him with tiny brushes of her pussy. Just as he was about to tear his mouth away and beg her to put him out of his misery, she sank hard and fast.
“Fuck!” he shouted as his eyes crossed.
Oliva giggled the happiest sound he’d heard from her yet.
Then she winked and rode him to fucking paradise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
FOR ONE SOLID week, life was perfect.
Seven days of riding on the back of Scott’s bike, helping Brooke with the dogs, meals with the club, evenings having drinks by a roaring bonfire, and so many laughs, her stomach cramped.
Then there were the nights. If the days were perfect, a word hadn’t been invented to describe the nights—hot, sexy, orgasmic, passionate, intimate, remarkable—some compounded combination of those descriptions.
Olivia climbed out of bed each morning with wobbly limbs, achy muscles, and a cheek-splitting smile on her face.
The texts from Lance stopped. Harassment from Lobo disappeared. If the rest of her life could’ve played out as those seven days spent with Scott and his family, she’d have signed on in a heartbeat.
But someone in the heavens had it out for her because precisely eight days after she realized she’d fallen head over heels in love with Scott, her phone rang at two in the morning.
Scott shot straight up in bed. “What the fuck?”
Olivia was slower to rouse, but Scott’s distress had her focusing on him over the blaring cell. “It’s okay,” she said, rubbing his back. Beneath her palm, his heart slammed against his ribcage. “It’s just my phone.”
“Fuck,” he whispered. “I’m not cool with being startled awake like that.”
“It’s okay.” She wrapped her arm around him and kissed his cheek. “Let me check it in case something’s wrong with Brooke or the dogs.” Really, who else would it be? Occasionally, one of Scott’s brothers called her, but there wouldn’t be any reason for it at this hour.
As the fourth ring pierced the quiet apartment, she snatched her phone off the nightstand. Her stomach cramped. God, no.
“It’s Lance,” she whispered as her hand began to tremble.
“Gimme,” Scott said, making a grab for the phone.
She jerked it out of his reach, hopping off the bed. As much as she’d love to hand it over and let him deal with it, Lance would lose his shit if Scott answered the phone. Best to feel out the situation first. “Hello?” She held it to her ear and answered in a flat tone.