Clutching the sheets so tightly that I pull the edges right off the bed, I arch my back and press myself against his face. His tongue is electric, sparking powerful surges of erotic energy through me, the tingles going all the way out to my fingers and toes. I close my eyes and see only white as I come like I never have before.
I don't care if anyone hears me.
How long does he have me riding the wave? I lose track of time, and when I finally collapse on the bed and try pushing him away, because oh my God, I'm so sensitive, it can have been a moment or an hour and I wouldn't know the difference.
“Stop, please. It's too much,” I get out between breaths while he's still planting little kisses on my clit, each one sending an overwhelming rush through me. “Stop!”
He laughs as he finally pulls back, allowing me to roll over on my cot into a little, quivering ball. No romance novel prepared me for that, but I'll never read another eating out scene the same ever again.
Before he stands up, he picks up the boxers from the floor and drops them on the mattress, then takes the sheets and pulls them over me, giving me a bit of modesty. With the grin of someone who just won a significant victory, he says, “I'm going to look for a guitar.”
And here I thought I just needed saving from kidnapping.
14
KING
When I open my laptop on the table in the storeroom, Emily looks up from the book she's reading. One of Wild Child's fantasy books. At least they keep her quiet.
On the other hand, I don't mind her voice as much as I did. Especially after what she did for Quickshot. Doc said she did everything right. Viking probably would've too, but she actually gave up her escape attempt to do it. Fuck, is she really Hawthorne's child? Hard to believe.
“There's another press conference coming.” I nod at the screen. “We'd better see some fucking response from him this time.”
She shrugs, but puts the book away and gets up to come see. “Don't expect him to change his mind. Of all the things he's good at, that's not one of them.”
“I put a fucking gun to your head.”
“Yes, thanks, I remember.”
Yeah, maybe quiet is better after all.
Hero and Wild Child drift in and pull up chairs. Wild child smirks at Emily, and uncharacteristically, she blushes deep red. Fuck. What the hell has he gone and done now? He doesn't say anything, but the shit-eating grin on his face has a distinct air of “I got there first, motherfuckers.”
Like this shit needed to get more complicated. Still, when she presses in between us so she can see the screen better, I don't exactly hate it.
Fucking fantastic. Three big bad bikers fighting for our club's existence, and we're going sweet on our hostage. What could possibly go wrong?
The commercial ends, and the press conference is on.
“Turn it up,” says Emily.
Kurt Hawthorne is dressed impeccably, gazing into the camera with hawk eyes. Maybe Emily's right. There's not a hint of distress or fear in that gaze. Either he's a fantastic actor, or this plan is going to shit faster than Bear at the all-you-can-eat Tacoteria.
It's Hawthorne's own flesh and blood at stake, for fuck's sake. Hell, Dad was never afraid of pulling off his belt to make a fucking point, but even he tried to protect us in his own way. Even if he was shit at it, but I don't see a drop of care in those eyes.
“Thank you for coming out on short notice,” Hawthorne begins, letting his gaze sweep over the crowd of reporters before fixing his attention back on the camera. “Obviously, the new development needs to be addressed.”
“Mr. Mayor, the pictures show your daughter with a gun to her head. This is a clear threat from the kidnappers. What do you intend to do about it?” A reporter with a slicked back hairdo and an oversized earpiece presses his mic up to the podium, making sure it's as close as possible.
“A clear threat indeed. My own daughter's life is on the line here, and you have no idea how deeply that stabs me in the heart. These kidnappers are animals. Worse than animals. Pond scum with leather jackets and motorcycles. When I decided to take a hardline stance against them, I suspected something like this would happen.” Hawthorne pauses a moment to look pensively down and draw a deep sigh that he lets out slowly. What a fucking act. Fucking Hollywood. When he looks back up, his eyes are shining with tears and his jaw set in determination. “Unfortunately, this changes nothing. I knew she was in danger, but the needs of this city need to come first. If we back down once, they'll come at us again. They will have found a working tactic to blackmail us, and I cannot allow that. I refuse to. This has been the hardest decision of my life, but my operation will go forward as planned. They have made a public war out of this, and a war they will get.”