His Mad Passion: Her Stepbrother's Desire, a Death Lords MC (The Motorcycle Clubs Book 17) by Ella Goode

Author:Ella Goode [Goode, Ella]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2015-04-14T04:00:00+00:00

8

WRECKER

By the time we arrive home, Chelsea feels like a block of ice. I ignore the ringing of my cellphone and hustle her into the bathroom. While the water heats up, I help her shed her jeans, her sweater, socks and boots.

“Why am I so cold?” She clutches her arms and shivers. Her legs are trembling so much I wonder if I should have hit the stopper on the tub but the water’s hot and it should warm her up soon enough.

“Adrenal fatigue. Your body increased its hormonal levels during your flight from the Trainors’ and now it’s adjusting.” She frowns. I raise my hands. “I read while I was in prison.”

That generates a small smile from her. “What about you?”

“I’m still feeling the rush.” I shove my own jeans to the floor. “And I have a different reaction.”

A lone eyebrow arches up as she takes in my obvious hard on.

“You coming in?” She pushes the curtain aside and I whip the rest of my clothes off.

“Yup. Gotta make sure you’re warm from the inside out. Which one of these is soap?” I point to the multiple bottles in a small basket in the corner. I have one bottle—shampoo—and I use that to wash myself from top to bottom. Chelsea has seven. She hands me a pink bottle. I open it and it smells like Chelsea—fruity and delicious. Maybe I should start using her shit more often.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warns.

“What?” I ask innocently but she knows me too well.

“You cannot use my strawberry kiwi dessert body wash in your hair.”

“How about on my smelly arm pits?”

She leans into me, wet, plump and warm. “I like your man smell. Don’t ruin it. Stinky armpits and all.”

“Turn around,” I order gruffly. “Or this shower thing will be over before it starts.”

The way her stomach presses against my dick sends a flood of heat through my frame that has nothing to do with the temperature of the water. Instead of doing as I asked, she wraps her slippery arms around my shoulders and hooks a leg around my hip. If I dipped my knees, I could slide right between her legs and I know she’d be wet inside, too.

“Stop it,” I growl.

She rubs her tits against me, the hard points of her nipples scraping against my chest wall. Fuck. “I’m clean,” she says. It feels like a taunt and shit the water’s going to get cold any minute. I drop the fruit salad bottle onto the tub floor, crank the water to the off position and pick up my girl. Laughing, she presses kisses around my forehead.

Her legs wrap around my waist and my cock unerringly finds its target. With each step my dick rubs against her damp flesh and by the time we reach the bed, I’m about two seconds from blowing all over her.

“Baby, I’m not going to last long.”

She bites her lower lip. “Me either.”

Her glittery eyes tell me she’s just as far gone. Thank Christ.

I throw her onto the bed and drop a hand between her legs.

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