The Rush: The Hell's Disciples MC (The Hell's Disciples MC Series) by Jaci J

Author:Jaci J [J, Jaci]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SMITH
Published: 2019-10-20T18:30:00+00:00

20

T

BAILEY DOESN’T WANT me to touch her, but I couldn’t give a fuck less.

I need to touch her.

I need that shit like I need a cigarette or a shot of alcohol, or a goddamn bullet for the Russian’s brain.

“Don’t,” I growl, grabbing her hips and lifting her up, even when she pushes me away.

“T—”

“Don’t.”

Bailey gives in.

She wraps her legs around me, but only because she doesn’t have a choice.

“I can’t be with you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Fuck me?”

“You heard me,” she counters.

“Bailey.”

“I don’t trust you.”

Her words fucking cut.

She doesn’t trust me?

She doesn’t trust me?

“Is that so?” I provoke, trying to reign in my temper. “You fuckin’ scared of me? Scared I’ll do to you what I did to that asshole who hit you?”

Pushing her against the wall, her body between mine and the wood, I stare down into her big brown eyes, wide and determined to hate me, her jaw clenched.

I know the answer to my fucking questions without even having to hear the words.

She doesn’t hate me.

She hates that she wants me.

She hates that we’re in deep.

“That’s what I fucking thought.”

“Still doesn’t make it right.”

“So him hitting you over some bullshit you had fuck all to do with was okay?”

“No.”

“An eye for a fucking eye, Doll Face.” I inhale her scent when I bury my face in her neck.

I fucking need her.

Right now, I need her more than I usually do.

She shivers, sucking in a breath when I kiss the skin below her ear. “That’s how I fucking handle shit. Don’t question it, and don’t question me. Trust what I do.”

“Tyler,” she sighs, trying to pull away.

She’s shaking. Either from the loss of adrenaline or need, I don’t fucking know, but she tenses when I slide one hand along her hip and down to her ass, lifting her higher and closer to me. I want her as close as I can fucking get her. “I don’t want to do this,” she moans when I kiss down her neck toward her chest. “Not like this.”

“You don’t want me anymore?” I ask her, carrying her into the dressing room and setting her on one of the vanities, knocking bottles and shit over when I do.

“No, not when I’m in the middle of something I know nothing about.”

“This shit won’t touch you, not again.”

“You don’t know that,” she whispers, her head falling back against the mirror behind her when I tug her top down, her tits springing free from the material.

“Yeah,” I growl, burying my face in her cleavage. “I fucking do.”

Nipping at the underside of her tit, I work my hand between her thighs, pushing the material of her little panties to the side, exposing her juicy cunt.

She feels the same way about me as I do about her—fucking crazy.

“Don’t,” she pleads, her fight fading when I slide two fingers between her slick pussy lips, teasing her entrance with my fingers.

“Don’t what?” Pushing my fingers inside of her warm body, her cunt tightens around my fingers. “Don’t fuck my woman?” I tease.

“I’m not your woman.

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