Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

“You okay, sweetheart?”

She took in a breath and blew it out her mouth slowly. “How much longer?”

“Not much, baby. You’re doing beautifully. Makin’ me proud, honey. Can you take a little more?” His words drifted over the hum of the needle.

She nodded.

After a few more minutes, he switched the machine off and pulled his gloves off with a snap. He stood, and leaned over to gently blow across the tattoo. He watched her belly jerk with reaction, and she reached for the blindfold.

He grabbed at her wrists. “Wait. One more thing.”

“What?”

“Your reward. I promised I’d make you feel better. I’m not a welsher, either.” He transferred both her wrists to one hand, holding them pinned high on her stomach. His left hand slid into the loose leg of her shorts. The soft skin of her inner thigh trembled under his palm. His thumb slipped under her panties, and he brushed it over her. She surged, arching her back, her thighs trying to clamp together, but her knees hit his hips.

“Crash, no.”

“Shh, baby. Relax, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His thumb circled, and she writhed on the felt, moaning in response to the sensations his touch was causing. “Oh, God.” The words stuttered out of her.

Crash gazed down at her as he continued to stroke her. “Do you remember the other night when I touched you? You were so responsive to my touch. So unbelievably sexy.”

Her breathing was accelerating, and she replied, breathlessly, “Yes, I remember.”

Her hands pinned, he kept at her and at her until finally she gasped in a breath, held it and shuddered as she came against his hand. He released her wrists, and she yanked the blindfold off in time to see him standing over her licking his thumb. “That was beautiful to watch, Princess. The most erotic thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

They stared at each other, and then almost simultaneously he was leaning over her, and she was grabbing at his shoulders, pulling him down. He was careful not to brush against the fresh tattoo as his mouth attacked hers, and she opened, welcoming him to plunder deeper. She clutched at him, and he knew she had to feel his hard erection that pressed against her spread thighs. His hands threaded into her hair and pulled her head back as he deepened the kiss. He heard and felt her moan against his mouth, and he growled back, rocking his hips against her, his cock sliding over her. Her back arched off the table. He broke off, pulling away far enough to mutter, “Christ, baby, I could do you right here.”

“Yes, please, Crash.”

“No, baby. I haven’t earned that yet. But I will, Shannon. You hear me? I promise you I will.” He rose up, his palms on the felt next to her head.

“You’re stopping?” she asked with disbelief etching on her face.

“Yeah, Princess. I’m stopping.”

She slugged him in the shoulder. “How can you be so frustrating and so sweet at the same time?”

Grinning, he answered, “I don’t know, babe. How can you be so bitchy and so adorable at the same time?”

She huffed out a breath. “Can I at least see my tattoo?”

He huffed right back and grinned. “Yeah, baby. You can see it.” He picked up a hand mirror from the table. Holding it up, his fingers pointed to the horizontal flower. “The tightly furled long-stem rose just starting to bloom—that’s you. The barbed wire,” his fingers followed the swoops that wrapped loosely around the stem. “That’s me protecting you.”

She studied it. Her mouth dropping open. “Oh, Crash. It’s beautiful.”

He winked at her. “Good. Glad you like it. ‘Cause, baby, it’s permanent.”

She looked down at it and smiled.

He took that as a good sign.

*****

Later that night, Shannon was asleep in the bed. Crash

looked over from his place on the couch as he set his phone back down on the coffee table. Cole had just called him in. They were having trouble with Artie terrorizing his girls again, and Mack had had enough. They were setting their plan in motion, which meant things were about to escalate in a major way.