Bitter Kind of Love: Prairie Devils MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

Bitter Kind of Love: Prairie Devils MC Romance (Outlaw Love) by Nicole Snow

Book: Bitter Kind of Love: Prairie Devils MC Romance (Outlaw Love) by Nicole Snow Read Free Book Online
Authors: Nicole Snow
fierce squeeze as he thrust his tongue against mine, back and forth, rhythmic and wanting, a wordless play that told me how bad he wanted to –
    “Fuck. Fucking shit, baby. You taste so goddamned hot.” He broke the last kiss, struggling for air.
    I did the same. He'd sucked the life out of me, all my vital heat, leaving me empty and needy, but still craving more each time I let my eyes wander up over his broad shoulders and study his gorgeous face.
    My hands were locked around him, shaking like leaves. Jesus, the sickness hadn't blunted that spicy masculine sent I'd inhaled before.
    Comforting. Consoling. Mostly just strong.
    I breathed deep. Every part of me was on fire, bending in a blaze that swept to my toes and then rushed back between my legs. It burned straight through my skin, leaving nothing in its wake except the sopping wetness melting in my panties. I wondered what it would feel like to have my hands around his neck while he was between my legs, fused to me, pushing his trademark growl into my ears as he took what we both needed so bad.
    I moved in for another kiss. Most of the other brothers and their girls were asleep around us, or else so focused on each other it was like we had the place to ourselves. Still, we couldn't go all the way here.
    Stinger stopped just short of pressing his lips to mine again. “Come on.”
    Without another word, he grabbed my hand and led me up. We were halfway down the hall to his room when he lurched and fell against the wall.
    “Shit!” His curse bounced on the floor and hit the ceiling. “Sneaky motherfuckers and their poison...hope Tank and the boys hurt 'em bad before they bit it. What kinda assholes lay a grown man down with something he can't even see? I can handle bullets, knives, bombs, but this shit...”
    He couldn't see it, but he could obviously feel it. Stinger was on his knees now. I rushed in to hold him up, sighing as the flame coiling up my brain went out. Getting him back to a hundred percent wellness was all that mattered now.
    We were both idiots to let lust runaway with him in this state. Let alone how I'd feel after going into that room, running on pure instinct with this dangerously sexy man...
    Fucking him was absolutely crazy. I had to get him down, safe and secure and comfortable, for more reasons than one.
    Inch by inch, we struggled forward. I pushed the door open and helped drag him through. When I helped him onto the bed, I held my hand to his head, and then two fingers to his neck. His pulse, breathing, and temperature weren't worrisome enough to summon any of the medics.
    He'd tried to do too much, too soon. We shouldn't have kissed.
    Not that I regretted it for a single second. If this was goodbye – and I had an ugly feeling it had to be, for everybody's good – then he'd left me something wonderful to remember.
    “There.” I pulled the blanket I'd been using for days up over his shoulders.
    He was fading out as he lay there, the savage energy I'd felt before dying in sheer exhaustion. He grunted, turning over. I slid into the little nook next to him.
    He'd held me like this the very first night I was here. Now, it was my turn. I wrapped my hands around him, marveling at how hard he felt against my palms, warm muscles mingling with smooth cold leather. His chest was just like the rest of him – rock slabs packed together tight, hard as the Bitterroot Mountains, dark and menacing and beautiful if they were as inked as his arms.
    Had to be, if the shirtless brothers I'd seen around the clubhouse were any indication.
    “Baby...” he whispered, trying to fight passing out. “I'm fucking sorry. I regret not getting my hands on those bastards myself. I should've fucking killed them, slaughtered their asses after what they did to you...”
    “It's okay,” I said, resting my cheek against his. Rough, short stubble made a delicious contrast against my skin. “Just rest up. It's all over now. I won't leave until you're better.”

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