RIDING DIRTY (Steel Titans MC Book 4) by Franca Storm (best books for students to read txt) 📗

knew better now, so I wasn’t gonna rise to it and give it back to her ten times over. It was a defense mechanism, a well-honed one. When things got too real or uncomfortable, she got nasty. “Sure you wanna challenge me like that right now? A marathon of fucking with me ain’t easy to begin with. It’d been a long time since you’d had a cock anywhere near that sweet pussy of yours. So, I know you’re feeling it. Plus, you ain’t hiding that limp as well as you think.”

Challenge and defiance flickered in her eyes for a few moments. But then it died out and she pulled on my t-shirt.

I got a little more than I’d bargained for when I took in the sight of her wearing it. It hadn’t exactly but the kibosh on the desire that’d been burning like a wildfire for her all the while her sexy-as-fuck naked body had been on full display. An intense wave of possessiveness rolled through me. Jesus.

“What happened last night?”

“We fucked for hours on end.”

“I know that. I mean, with you. You weren’t the brutal, punishing force you’re known for being. I mean, the whole dirty thing held up very well, but the rest… that was another story. You held back.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I wouldn’t call it holding back. Things just went a different way. I didn’t feel like taking it to that other place.”

“Why not?”

“Because of you.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Me?”

“You’re different.”

“Different?”

Frustration whirred inside me. Too many questions! I didn’t want her psychoanalyzing me. It weren’t about my worry of somebody getting too close. Not anymore. Not with her. It was the fact that I didn’t know the answers yet. Something had shifted in me last night, because of her. “Forget it,” I said, pushing off the wall and heading to my phone on the nightstand over on my side of the bed.

“We’re not finished talking, Slade. Don’t you turn your back to me!”

“Chill,” I told her as I snatched up my phone and sent Deviant a quick text to check in and make sure everything was still good with the club.

“I don’t chill.”

I put my phone back down and gave her my full attention again. “That’s a big part of your problem.”

She slapped her hands to her hips. “Problem? I didn’t know I had a problem.”

Sighing, I slumped down on the edge of the bed and got real with her, “The shit we do, the disturbing and down ‘n’ dirty things, the ability to be able to touch the dark like that… it’s got an expiration date.”

She started shaking her head, but I held up my hand. “Hear me out.” Looking her right in the eye, I went on, “Keeping up with the hyper-vigilance, the need to be one step ahead, standing at a distance from everybody, delving into the dark, committing fucked-up acts in the name of survival and protection, handling the stress and intensity, being at your best twenty-four-seven… it’s a hell of a heavy burden to bear.”

“It’s a good thing I work out as hard as I do then.”

There was humor in her words, but the look on her face told a different story. She was affected and she was worried. She knew I was right. I could see it all over her.

“It ain’t a matter of strength. It’s time. The wear down of it all. You know you’ve hit it when cracks start to show. Things start coming back on you, things you’d been able to keep at bay before or just damn well ignore. They start haunting you. Then, you start slipping up, making mistakes, no matter how good you’ve always been. For me, it’s been the Strikers MC takedown where I broke from the plan and endangered my own boys, letting myself get stabbed by Gabriel Clarkson, the clusterfuck of my attempted hit on Adrian Nolan. The same thing’s happening to you now. You’re starting to feel it. You’re having nightmares about it all. You’re tired, the kind that no amount of sleep can fix. You’re on the same track, coming up right behind me.” With a heavy sigh, I rose from the bed and walked to her. “This job we’re doing together should be your last one. You gotta get out, Willa. Best to go out while you’re still on top. Otherwise, you’ll end up just being a shell. Like me.”

I went to reach out to her, but she jerked back out of my reach. “Unbelievable,” she muttered. Her gaze hardened. “Just because we fucked around, doesn’t mean you have any right whatsoever to comment on, interfere with, or pass judgments on my life.”

Yeah, I’d gotten to her, all right. It was classic lashing out. If that was what it took to make her realize the brutal truth, it would be worth it. I didn’t want her ending up like me. She still had a chance.

She ran her fingers through her hair and glared at me. “I’m aware that guys like you, club guys, think that taking a woman to your bed and sleeping with them more than once means you’ve made some sort of claim on them, that they suddenly become your property and whatever other sexist bullshit you guys believe in. But it is bullshit and it certainly won’t fly with me.”

“That’s some crazy-ass oversimplification.”

“So, it’s not true then?”

“Not exactly. Your facts are skewed. And, for the record, I don’t think I’ve claimed you. But we did make a connection. You wanna deny that?”

I saw her move to do just that. No fucking way. Not happening.

Stepping up to her, I got right in her space, my voice a low growl as I said, “The way I remember it, I owned you last night, darlin’. That tight fucking pussy of yours, every goddamn inch of your body. And you gave it all right back to me too. Couldn’t get enough.”

Heat flared between us.

I heard her breathing quicken.

A blush painted her cheeks.

She was right