Property of Drex (Death Chasers MC 1)

Without thinking, I run my fingers through her hair, and she snuggles in even closer. After moving the laptop to the table, I lie down, and pull her into my arms for reasons unbeknownst to me. Maybe I feel sorry for her.

It’s like I almost feel compelled to comfort her in her sleep. Fucking with my head. That’s what this is doing.

Chapter 14

EVE

Waking up in Drex’s arms is surprising, considering I thought I was supposed to sleep on the couch. What’s more surprising is the way he’s holding me to him, and the way I’m spiraled around him.

Ah hell. I tried kissing him last night, and I’m fairly sure I begged him to kiss me. I just keep thinking I can somehow work this out in my mind if I can convince myself that it’s sort of like a relationship. Albeit an unhealthy, psychotic, somewhat morbid relationship, but a relationship nonetheless.

His eyes open sleepily, and he blinks several times as he takes in our intimate embrace. Kissing isn’t his thing—his words from last night. I don’t get it.

“Hi,” I say with my just-awake rasp, not bothering to attempt to let him go.

“You’re still in my bed,” he mumbles, rubbing his face with one hand while keeping the other very firmly attached to me, holding me to him.

“Sorry. I… got… drunk?” I say, but for some reason it sounds like a question.

“And passed out after you got naked,” he says with an amused grin now forming.

All he has on are his thin boxers that he must have put on after I passed out. He takes my hand to slide it over the material, letting me feel his morning arousal.

“Some things were left unfinished,” he says suggestively. I bite down on my lip while sliding my hand down the front of his boxers. His eyes close as he groans, and I run my hand down the hard length of his cock.

Through the numerous tattoos, I see several scars that I didn’t notice yesterday.

“What’s this?” I ask, leaning down as my hand comes out of his boxers to point at a scar on his side.

When his eyes pop open, he grabs my hand and puts it back where it was, and I resume my forgotten task. He feels good in my hand—hot, silky, yet so firm.

“Knives, guns, and broken bottles. All of them. Don’t stop until I say so,” he says in a quick breath, his eyes closing again as his head drops back down to the pillow.

Apparently he doesn’t feel like discussing his numerous hidden scars right now.

All of the sudden, I’m on my back, and he’s on top of me, nudging my legs apart with his knee.

“Please be wet,” he murmurs against my neck, sliding his lips lower as his finger moves between my legs.

A breath hisses between his teeth when I whimper as he pushes a finger inside me. There’s no doubt I woke up ready. It’s like my body is staying prepared at all times around him.

His lips latch onto a nipple, and he spreads the wetness around, as though he’s making sure I’m fully prepared for him. His breath is hot, but when he pulls back to blow on my nipple, the chill of it has my back arching.

I really love his mouth.

But that’s all the foreplay I get, because Drex isn’t a patient guy.

In less than a few seconds, he’s managed to jerk his boxers down and he’s inside me, stretching me and filling me to a depth only he has explored. My moan almost embarrasses me, and his smug grin forms in response.

He pushes harder and faster, pinning my hands against the mattress as he watches himself enter and exit my body. His jaw goes slack, and my core tightens just from watching him get so turned on.

However, the loud pounding on the door makes it feel as though a bucket of ice water is thrown on us.

Drex stills inside, muttering curses, but he doesn’t pull out.

“What?” he barks, glaring at the door.

“Sorry, man, but Mark Harrison is here.”

Drex tilts his head, and then he glances at the clock. His eyes widen as though he’s shocked, and then he scowls down at me like I’ve done something wrong.

“Shit. I’ll be down in just a minute,” he says, pushing into me again.

His thrusts pick up a punishing rhythm, but he stops abruptly, and curses while pulling out, looking painfully erect.

“I fucking overslept. I never oversleep,” he grumbles, sounding accusatory in tone.

I’m not sure if I’m supposed to apologize or not, and I’m almost embarrassed by the fact that I want to ask him to continue before he leaves, because now there’s an ache between my thighs that is hurting too much to ignore.

“You’d better be ready for me when I get back. And I’m not kidding. Don’t finish that without me.”