Adrenaline Rush (Death Chasers MC 4)

“Did the guy even talk?” Sledge asks as he follows behind me on the way to the stairs, as I adjust my towel on my hips when it starts to slip.

“He talked. I gave the leads to Snake, since he was restless and had nothing to do. Drex gone to get Eve or something? I couldn’t find him,” I go on as I start up the stairs.

He continues to follow. “Yeah. They actually just pulled in right before I managed to find you. He’s struggling to keep the ranks pulled in. You’re not helping shit by acting like you’re the one on top.”

“I’ll be gone soon enough. I do my part to keep my girl safe. I don’t give a shit about this club, or any club, for that matter. No offense,” I tell him over my shoulder.

“Well aware. I’m just saying that I do give a shit. This is my home, and it finally has the potential to be a good home. Don’t completely shit on it,” he says seriously.

I stop and turn, frowning over at him. It’s rare I feel bad for the shit I say, but I shrug at him. “Sorry. I’ll keep my shit more private now. I really won’t be an issue much longer. Not even Herrin has enough patience to allow his two kids to work together against him. Kara was always the ultimate thorn in his side. Drex was the lapdog.”

“No, Drex was just the one who had his head fucked up the worst because he was the first born and the boy. Kara was allowed enough time alone to grow rebellious and have individual thoughts,” he argues, getting actually angry at me. “Then she ran off and got therapy and started a new life. She’s not the same girl.”

“I know that. That’s why I’m getting her out of here after I put a few bullets in her dad,” I chirp as I turn and walk to my room.

He makes a frustrated sound that gets swallowed by the music’s increasing volume.

I push through my door, seeing the room only lit by the bathroom light that is peering through the crack. The sheet is barely covering her at all as she lies in a relaxed curl, the top swell of her ass peeking out from under the sheet.

Kara is naked…

Why is she naked?

Her hair is fanned out over the pillow, and she’s sleeping soundly. As if she feels the weight of my eyes on her, she stirs, flopping to her back, the sheet falling away.

My eyes rake over her body as she continues to sleep, and I drop my towel as I angle my head.

She makes another little sound that sounds almost like a soft snore.

She’s definitely asleep.

With slow, careful movements, I climb between her legs, running my hand up her thigh in a barely-there caress that only makes her moan in her sleep. My lips kick up in a one-sided grin when I let my finger barely graze the most intimate, aroused piece of her body.

“Ready for me, are you?” I whisper as I reach down to line myself up.

She startles awake just as I start sliding in, and her breath hitches in her throat when I lean down to take her lips. It’s like she’s still molded to me, and it doesn’t matter how many years have passed.

It doesn’t matter who she is now.

Her fingers slide through the strands of my hair as she kisses me, her hips moving to try and quicken the rhythm. I pin her tighter to the bed to gain more control, and she slips her legs around my waist, using the heels of her feet against my ass to spur me on.

I must be doing something right. She’s not pushing me away, and she’s getting into my bed naked, knowing I’ll take that as a cue to take whatever I want.

I take my time, pressing against her in all the right ways, and I kiss her until we both have to break for more air. “You’re torturing me,” she says on a whispered breath as I continue taking my time.

“I’m not a quickie sort of guy. You have a vibrator for that,” I say against her neck.

She makes a low sound in her throat when I find a particularly rewarding angle, and it starts getting harder to control myself.

Everything about her feels too good.

From the way she claws at me to get closer, to the way she desperately pleads for more…

The way her voice breaks when she cries out and clenches around me, making it damn hard not to just lose myself…

Our bodies start slicking with sweat when I resume kissing her, working hard to keep her just on the fine edge of her second orgasm, my body moving over hers in deliberate, short, calculated thrusts.

When she whimpers my name, the frayed thread of control snaps with it.