Read Online Unholy: The Unholys MC by Ellen Harper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellen Harper
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Crime, Military, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Crime Fiction, Murder, Inspirational, Thrillers & Suspense, Vigilante Justice, Kidnapping, Heist
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tonight, that’s it. I guess I’m…I guess I’m a little rough over it is all.”
The blood on his hands was fresh and I knew it wasn’t from Worm. It didn’t take a genius to figure that much out, but the part I was worried about was that he wasn’t interested in discussing it. It wasn’t that we usually got home and talked about our days, filled with violence or blood or boring, boring paperwork. That just wasn’t us. We found other things to talk about that were away from the club and all the bullshit that went with it.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t ask , and the way he was looking right now, that hollow, uncertain look in his eyes lingering dark and heavy, well, I felt like asking wasn’t an option. And it worried me.
I reached for him, my hands trailing over his, pressing the icepack to his raw skin. He didn’t flinch away from what must have been a sharp cold, instead allowing me to help in what small way I could. I stared at those hands, the cuts on them. He’d wiped away most of the blood, but there were cuts and bruises, letting me know that at least some of that blood had been his. I wondered how much.
My eyes jerked up to examine his face suddenly, searching him for signs of injury.
What had he been doing tonight? What had been eating him up? What gave him that haunted look in his eyes? I worried that there’d been a serious fight. With the Berserkers? I couldn’t be sure. I knew there’d been talk of working something out between them, but maybe that’s all it was. Talk. My hands lifted from his knuckles to feel along his face. Was he okay? My thumb trailed over his lip and he kissed it.
Fire slipped from that kiss all the way down my body, tingling along my spine to pool deep and dark between my legs.
God, I wanted him.
And he wanted me. His eyes were open and staring so intently at me that he might be boring holes into my body that way. There was more going on here, I knew, but I also knew that the thing that was going on for him was an internal struggle. Something had happened tonight and it weighed on him.
I felt that familiar urge to ease away that weight, if only for a night.
He must have sensed it, because his hands reached out for me and grabbed me by the hips, jerking me to his body until we were pressed together harshly, tightly. His hard body pressed against mine, and even through the zipper of his jeans, I could feel him hard and needy, desperate for me.
I shuddered and allowed my body to ease into him, slowly at first, but increasing in speed until I was grinding against him, his grip on my hips loose enough only for that. He leaned into me, his face pressing into the hollow of my neck, his stubble scratching at my pale skin.
This was how it started, and I couldn’t deny that I loved every moment of it.
I breathed him in, his scent a strong, spicy, musky scent that wrapped around me and went straight through me all at once. I knew there were things about smell that drove people to desire and passion. Pheromones, chemicals, something like that, but I thought it was more about the way he smelled. Like power and strength and need.
My warrior.
“Johnny,” I breathed, and was rewarded with a shudder and his hands clenching tighter to my hips. His face shifted so that his lips found my skin, pressing little kisses against my neck and collarbone until my skin was flushed with heat.
I didn’t need him to tell me how much he wanted me, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love to hear it.
“I won’t go easy tonight,” he murmured, his breath hot against my neck. I shuddered again at the promise of the hard and fast fucking his voice promised me.
“Okay,” was all I said, and it was all I had to say. The permission was there and that little piece of consent was all he needed.
He picked me up, his hands moving down from my hips to my butt, gripping each cheek firmly in his rough hands. He
The blood on his hands was fresh and I knew it wasn’t from Worm. It didn’t take a genius to figure that much out, but the part I was worried about was that he wasn’t interested in discussing it. It wasn’t that we usually got home and talked about our days, filled with violence or blood or boring, boring paperwork. That just wasn’t us. We found other things to talk about that were away from the club and all the bullshit that went with it.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t ask , and the way he was looking right now, that hollow, uncertain look in his eyes lingering dark and heavy, well, I felt like asking wasn’t an option. And it worried me.
I reached for him, my hands trailing over his, pressing the icepack to his raw skin. He didn’t flinch away from what must have been a sharp cold, instead allowing me to help in what small way I could. I stared at those hands, the cuts on them. He’d wiped away most of the blood, but there were cuts and bruises, letting me know that at least some of that blood had been his. I wondered how much.
My eyes jerked up to examine his face suddenly, searching him for signs of injury.
What had he been doing tonight? What had been eating him up? What gave him that haunted look in his eyes? I worried that there’d been a serious fight. With the Berserkers? I couldn’t be sure. I knew there’d been talk of working something out between them, but maybe that’s all it was. Talk. My hands lifted from his knuckles to feel along his face. Was he okay? My thumb trailed over his lip and he kissed it.
Fire slipped from that kiss all the way down my body, tingling along my spine to pool deep and dark between my legs.
God, I wanted him.
And he wanted me. His eyes were open and staring so intently at me that he might be boring holes into my body that way. There was more going on here, I knew, but I also knew that the thing that was going on for him was an internal struggle. Something had happened tonight and it weighed on him.
I felt that familiar urge to ease away that weight, if only for a night.
He must have sensed it, because his hands reached out for me and grabbed me by the hips, jerking me to his body until we were pressed together harshly, tightly. His hard body pressed against mine, and even through the zipper of his jeans, I could feel him hard and needy, desperate for me.
I shuddered and allowed my body to ease into him, slowly at first, but increasing in speed until I was grinding against him, his grip on my hips loose enough only for that. He leaned into me, his face pressing into the hollow of my neck, his stubble scratching at my pale skin.
This was how it started, and I couldn’t deny that I loved every moment of it.
I breathed him in, his scent a strong, spicy, musky scent that wrapped around me and went straight through me all at once. I knew there were things about smell that drove people to desire and passion. Pheromones, chemicals, something like that, but I thought it was more about the way he smelled. Like power and strength and need.
My warrior.
“Johnny,” I breathed, and was rewarded with a shudder and his hands clenching tighter to my hips. His face shifted so that his lips found my skin, pressing little kisses against my neck and collarbone until my skin was flushed with heat.
I didn’t need him to tell me how much he wanted me, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love to hear it.
“I won’t go easy tonight,” he murmured, his breath hot against my neck. I shuddered again at the promise of the hard and fast fucking his voice promised me.
“Okay,” was all I said, and it was all I had to say. The permission was there and that little piece of consent was all he needed.
He picked me up, his hands moving down from my hips to my butt, gripping each cheek firmly in his rough hands. He
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