The feel of her coming all over his cock pushed him past his limit. He powered into her twice more before shooting into the condom. The pleasure was so great, his vision went completely white as he lost all sense of reality. He hadn’t come that hard in, well, ever.

Izzy sagged beneath him, utterly spent, and let out a happy little sigh. Bending forward, he licked a line of perspiration off her back then latched on to her neck with his teeth. She moaned, a weak sound full of exhaustion. “You took it all,” he whispered in her ear.

Her left cheek was on the mat, eyes closed, a smile on her lips. “Told you,” she mumbled. “Also told you that you needed that. We both did.”

He nipped her earlobe then rolled onto the mat next to her. He was fatigued, but sated and now able to take on all the problems that awaited him and the club. She was right. He had needed that.

Izzy had figured out exactly what he needed and given it to him without question even though it wasn’t her usual way of doing things. That went far beyond the call of duty for a friend, and even further than what’d he’d expect for a fuck buddy. Their chemistry topped the charts, but this was more than chemicals and heat. And he had no idea what to do with that. For now, the plan was to just ignore it. Ignore the growing emotion and connection because he had no use for it and had no fucking clue how to deal with it. Not anymore.

Thankfully, Izzy seemed to be of the same mind.

“We need to get this place cleaned up and get out of here before Zach catches wind,” he said, even though he wanted nothing more than to take a nap right where he lay.

Still prone, eyes closed, Izzy said, “How would he ever know?”

“You’ve got a guard dog waiting outside for you to go home, remember? Half these guys gossip worse than high-school cheerleaders. Guarantee he’s already been on the line with Zach, telling him we’re still here. Hell, the perv probably peeked in the window and got off watching us fuck.”

Izzy’s eyes popped open, and her mouth formed a surprised O. Then she burst out laughing. He should have known embarrassment wouldn’t be her first reaction. She was a sexual woman and owned it.

“Well, shit,” she said. “I forgot all about him. I hope he’s not pissed.”

Jig rolled to his side and faced her. “You better have forgotten all about every other man in the universe while my dick was inside you. If he’s pissed, who gives a shit? And if he watched, I guarantee he’s satisfied, not pissed.”

With another laugh, Izzy slapped his leg. “You’re terrible.”

“You were singing a different tune five minutes ago, sweetheart.” He stroked a hand down the curve of her spine, smoothing over her ass which was dotted with his fingerprints.

“All right, Casanova, I’ll give you that one. You sure can fuck.”

A swell of pride rose in him as he stared at the marks he’d left on her body. It looked like she belonged to him. His woman.

A pit formed low in his gut. No woman would be his. Not ever again. But if he were to have one, he’d sure be proud for it to be Izzy.

Shit. Those thoughts needed to go before he did something stupid like ask her on a real date.

“Let’s get moving,” he said, sitting up and grabbing her clothes for her. As he held them out to her, he didn’t miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

That was fine. Minor disappointment was a million times better than an obliterated heart any day.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“SEE YA TOMORROW, Rip!” Izzy yelled out as she left work on a rare early day. She’d had her last appointment at noon, and Rip told her to take off when finished, he’d handle the walk-ins for the rest of the day. So at two, she had a free afternoon. And she knew just how to spend it. Hanging the valences over her front windows.

Not exactly a wild adventure, but she’d been too busy to get it done and couldn’t wait to see how her favorite part of the house looked all dressed up.

“Bye, babe!” Rip called over the hum of his tattoo machine.

The fifteen-minute drive home passed quickly, and she only spent about seven of those minutes thinking about Jig.

Progress. At least twelve minutes of the drive into work that morning had been devoted to him.

They hadn’t spoken in the three days since they’d fucked like crazed maniacs in Zach’s gym. Jig clearly needed time and space to process what went down, and to be honest, so did she. The radio silence hadn’t actually bothered her.

Too much.

But she was annoyed by the small part of her that was disturbed by the cold shoulder treatment. Because she shouldn’t care. And never had in the past. One and done. Get hers and get out. No messiness, no insincere promises, no potential for hurt.

Tags: Lilly Atlas Hell's Handlers MC Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net