Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

She did as he asked. Her arm lifted, reaching out to him, beckoning him. “Crash, please.”

“Let me look at you, Princess.” His eyes moved over her, needing to see the want in her eyes, the need in her face. It had a healing effect on him, helping to pull him out of the darkness, even if he was afraid it would only last a short time. “I’ve missed you here.”

“It’s where I belong. With you. Here. Or wherever you are, Crash. It doesn’t matter. As long as we’re together.”

He pulled his shirt over his head and watched her eyes travel over him. Leaning forward, his hands moved to her jeans, unfastening them and jerking them off, eyes dropping down to the baby blue silk and lace panties. Sweet. Sexy. Beautiful.

He began unbuckling his belt, and he saw her eyes drop, watching his hands. Her tongue slid out to wet her lips, and he felt a responsive jerk in his dick.

“Crash, hurry. Please.”

He lifted his chin toward her. “Take off your shirt.” His jeans hit the floor as she pulled her top up and over her head. His eyes feasted on the matching pale blue bra. She was stunning. Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing. His palms skated along the silky skin of her long legs, moving up to her hips. His fingers curled around the fabric of her panties, and he pulled them slowly down her legs, tossing them to the floor.

He came down on top of her, his palm sliding up her arm to her shoulder, then down over her lace covered breast, his eyes following. He slid his hand around her ribs to her back. She arched, giving him room as he flicked open the clasp of her bra. His hand came up, his thumb hooking in the strap at her shoulder, and he pulled it down, taking his sweet time. Stretching the moment out, wanting to savor every second. An unwelcome thought floated through his head like a wisp of smoke and left him wondering if this could be the last time they ever did this. A part of him was still not sure he could let her in, not completely.

He smiled to himself at the irony. Perhaps he was the one who was building walls now.

Her bra slid free, and he tossed it aside, his eyes taking in her beauty. He pressed his mouth to her upper belly, below her breasts and trailed soft kisses in a line up between them, and then he moved, his mouth coming down on her nipple, closing, latching on and pulling hard.

Shannon arched off the

bed with the sensation. Her fingers threaded through his hair, loving the feel of his mouth on her, pulling him closer. She felt his thigh move over her leg, his knee pushing her legs apart.

“Open for me, baby.”

She did as he ordered a moment before his hips settled in the cradle of her thighs. Oh, God. That’s where he belonged. Her legs wrapped around him, and she moaned.

Her hands slid to his face, cupping his jaw and pulling his face to hers, her mouth opening for his kiss. His tongue plundered inside as he gripped her face, holding her still as he took control of the kiss.

She lifted her hips, rolling him to his back and crawling on top of him. Lifting up off him, to sit splayed across his hips, she rose up and ran her hands over his abs. “I fell, Crash. I fell hard for you.”

His hands slid to her waist, holding her. “I feel guilty.”

“Why?” She frowned down at him.

“Because loving you means dragging you into this life I lead. I shouldn’t do that. I should want better for you.”

“You are that, Crash. You are what’s better for me.”

“How? How can I possibly be what’s best for you?” He shook his head, refusing to believe her words. “Look at me. Look at what you’re getting.”

“I am looking. I see exactly who you are, Crash. And you are what’s best for me. You’re the love of my life. I feel it in my soul.”

He let out a short laugh and studied her for a long moment, before finally conceding, “When love comes along, sometimes it whispers in your ear, and sometimes it slams you up against the wall.” He smiled. “This is one dysfunctional love story, Princess.”

She searched his eyes, and then asked a question of her own, all the insecurity she felt showing in her face. “Do you love me, Crash?”

He rolled, taking her to her back on the bed once more. He rose over her, grinning down, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes showing how happy he was. “Heart and soul, baby.”

As Shannon stared up at him, she realized he never looked more gorgeous to her than he did in that moment.

EPILOGUE

Shannon…

Crash always has a way of seeing right through all my bullshit. Nothing gets past him. Not in life in general, and particularly not with me and his awareness of my emotions. The way he can urge me to talk about something, even when talking about it is the last thing I want to do, reveals he is one hundred percent aware of my feelings. He always knows when there’s something I’m holding in, and he just innately knows to force it out in the open, so we can deal with it.

I remember the day Crash pulled me in front of the mirror and said, “Look at us, babe. Do we make sense to you?” At the time he was talking about my outfit, but in reality I’m sure that is the way the rest of the world looks at us. On the outside, maybe we don’t make sense. In many ways we are opposites. Still, we seemed to click and somehow, it works. And we make sense to us, and really, that’s all that matters.