DAMON: A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel (21 page)

W
hile Damon was
patching things up with his brothers, Tricia was catching up with her best friends. She and Damon had checked out of their hotel early and gotten a room in the same hotel as everyone else. Kim and Tricia were enjoying makeshift cocktails from the mini-fridge while Ricky downed an apple cider vinegar concoction that made Tricia gag from across the room.

“It’s good for me,” Ricky insisted, though she grimaced with each sip.

“Says who?” Kim challenged.

“The internet,” Ricky said. Tricia eyed her friend, who wasn’t showing yet. Ricky said she was two months in.

“Soon enough, you’re going to look like a watermelon with legs,” Tricia mused.

“Well, hopefully my new boobs come in before that,” Ricky said, rising and going to the mirror beside the bathroom. She pushed up from below on her meager chest, giving herself cleavage that would disappear as soon as she let go. She looked back at the girls with her eyebrows raised. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know, you might not like the back pain that comes with it,” Kim said, arching her own back. Tricia nodded her agreement.

“But I’m sure Cristov will appreciate it,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.

“Please,” Ricky said, flouncing back to sit on the bed. “Have you seen what boobs look like after breastfeeding? I’ll probably scare him off every time I take my shirt off…”

“Oh, come on,” Kim said, rolling her eyes. “Cristov would screw you if you were forty pounds overweight and had a lazy eye.”

“That’s true,” Ricky said, primly. She glanced over at Tricia, a wicked grin on her face. “So, what’s with you and the lug?”

Tricia smiled right back.

“He’s a good man,” she said. “Must run in the family.”

“Well, he might be good in
some
ways, but he can’t organize a bookshelf to save his life,” Ricky said. Tricia’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Kim shot Ricky a look.

“He
is
a good man,” Kim said, leaning in to Tricia. “Intense, though, right?”

“Kind of,” Tricia said. “But then again, he’s always making those jokes. It kind of takes the edge off.”

“If you can even
call
them jokes,” Ricky said. “He must have something
else
to take the edge off if you put up with those all the time…”

Kim stifled a giggle and Tricia threw a pillow at Ricky, feeling like she was slipping back into their lives – seamless, sure, and steady. The feeling was very welcome.

“I don’t know,” Tricia said, looking down into her drink and smiling. She shrugged. “I think I love him. I mean…I do. But that’s crazy, I’ve known him like five minutes…”

Kim put her hand up to stop Tricia’s sentence. “We know the drill, Trish. You can’t surprise us with what those boys can make you feel.”

“So you approve?” Tricia asked, the question seeming to come from nowhere. She hadn’t meant to ask it, hadn’t even thought that their approval would matter to her. But she
had
asked it, and now she waited with surprisingly bated breath for the response.

“Duh,” Ricky said. “You can date whoever you want as long as he makes you happy. And if the person you date happens to keep you close to us…well, that’s even better.”

Kim nodded along, and Tricia smiled. But that opened up a whole new issue. She had missed her friends, but she still didn’t quite feel prepared to go back to Kingdom. It had been so hard to be there, and this trip had proved to be more stressful than relaxing. She didn’t feel like she was in any better shape than she was when she left.

But her friends wanted her home; that much was clear. Kim must have noticed the bittersweet nature of her smile, because when she spoke again, her voice was soft.

“Why did you go with him, Trish?”

Tricia sighed. She knew why. She didn’t want to hurt the girls, though. They’d worked hard to make her homecoming pleasant.

“I didn’t feel good in Kingdom,” she said. “I loved being with you again, I missed you so much…but I just didn’t feel like I was
home.
I felt like I was a stranger in my own town. And it just felt…wrong.”

Ricky nodded.

“Do you feel like you can come home now?” she asked. Tricia looked up at her and shrugged.

“I don’t know – not…not really,” she admitted, worried about how her friends would react. To her surprise, though, Ricky just smiled.

“Well, whenever you do feel ready, we’ll be there,” she said, reaching out to cover Tricia’s hand with her own. “But you sure as hell better come back when this little womb-goblin decides it wants a taste of fresh air.”

Kim’s nose scrunched in horror.

“Womb goblin? Geeze, Ricky…”

Tricia collapsed into laughter, relieved and grateful all at the same time. It was all she needed to hear. Now, she just had to find out how to tell Damon…

Well, she could think of at least
one
way to soften that blow.

“
H
ow did it go
?”

He heard Tricia’s voice call from the bathroom as the door shut behind him.

“Well,” he said. “Very…very well.”

“Oh, that’s so good,” she called.

She heard the clunk of keys hitting wood, pictured him emptying his pockets. She took one last look at herself in the mirror, turning, seeing herself the way he saw her. She knew she really shouldn’t tax his body more than it already was. He could still rip his stitches. But she planned on doing all the work, and she never had managed to repay him for that night in the tent. She smiled.

“Fuck,” he muttered as she walked out of the bathroom. She was naked, her skin slightly dewy, her hourglass figure on full display. The blush on her cheeks only made her more enticing as she stood in the doorway, leaning one hip against the frame, curves like a racetrack – and his heart was her very own racecar.

“That’s the plan,” she said, eyes lidded as she walked towards him. He was still standing in front of the little wooden hotel table, and as she approached he spread his arms out, wanting to feel her bare flesh, her feminine warmth. She slipped into his embrace but busied her hands at the bottom of his shirt, pulling upwards until he was bare-chested, his torso of tattoos and old scars and the bandage cutting across it all exposed to her lips.

She started to kiss his collarbone, her hands on his waist, her lips moving downward steadily. She could feel the stiffening of his spine, his blood pulsing; she skipped over the bandage, kneeling before him.

“Wait,” he said, holding her shoulders and looking down. “You don’t need to…”

“I want to,” she cooed, looking up at him. “I want to taste you too, Damon. Don’t be selfish.”

He bit back a smile, then a groan, as she undid the button of his jeans while licking down his taut stomach, dipping into his bellybutton and then following the light trail of hair downward. Her knees hit the floor as his jeans hit his ankles, and he was firm before her, throbbing and hard. She kissed his thighs, pulling down his boxers until he was fully unclothed.

She kept kissing all up his thighs and in the warm crook where his legs met while her hand traced the length of him, her fingernails only barely raking along the soft, silky flesh. She let her tongue trace up the side of his thigh to the base of his shaft, and then up the length of him to the swollen head. He shuddered as she licked back down, teasing him slowly, feeling the knots in his thighs as she held herself up against them.

“Tricia…” he moaned as she drew her tongue along the bottom, back to the head, where she just barely flicked her tongue, catching a drop of pre-cum from the tip. She licked her lips with it, leaned in and spread herself around him, feeling the throb of his desire as she sucked on the head of his cock, tracing her tongue around the rim and flicking over the tip. Her hand gripped the base of his cock, squeezing gently, then firmly, then gently again.

His hips jerked once, and she moved in closer, taking another inch of him into her mouth, letting her tongue bathe him in warmth and press against the veiny underside. She felt his hand fall to her head, burying itself in her hair, as she leaned in, taking him inch by inch, as far as it could go – which still left a few inches in her hand. She began to bob her head back and forth on his cock, using the slickness of her mouth to lubricate the base.

She moaned, tasting him all the way down her throat; she loved the sensation of him buried in her mouth, loved the way he tightened and groaned as she pressed him further back, until she was almost gagging on him. His hand on her scalp was steady but undemanding, guiding her speed as she fucked him between her lips, massaging him with her tongue, sliding him down her throat. She pulled back once to take a gasping breath, then impaled herself on him again, stroking him with her hand as she slid up and down.

Suddenly, his grip on her head increased, and looking up she saw that he was staring at her wild-eyed. He was always in control of himself…except for now. Because of her. Because of what she was doing to him. He held her head in place, his hips beginning to move against her; her pussy was already dripping desire as he began to fuck her mouth, taking what she’d offered him and making it his own. With another man, she might have felt used. With him, she felt aroused; she wanted it like this, with him in control, growling and primal and raw.

He fucked her throat with abandon, refusing to let her pull away, sliding his cock deep inside her until her nostrils flared and tears threatened her eyes. She gripped his thighs for support, tried to keep her tongue moving as he ravage his mouth. It was his to ravage. Her whole body was his to take, however he wanted. His movements sped up, became erratic and jerky; she could almost feel his balls churning as his arousal peaked. He shoved her head down, further than ever, and held her in place.

He groaned as he came, shooting warm jets into her throat, past her tongue; she swallowed desperately, loving the feel of his pleasure in her throat, the way his vein under his cock throbbed with each burst. She breathed ragged through her nose, taking it all until he pushed her away, the sensation too much for him. She licked her lips, smiling up at him; to her surprise, though, his eyes were still wild with desire, and he reached down and pulled her to her feet.

Spinning her around, he tugged her onto the wooden table and reached between her legs. Her surprise dissolved into pleasure as his fingers found her slit, wet and hot and ready for whatever he had to give her. He held his own cock in his hand; it was half-erect, and he began to stroke it.

“Not done with you,” he growled, moving in closer to whisper into her ear. His lips landed on her neck as his fingers plunged into her pussy.

“Be care…ohhh,” Tricia cried, her back arching violently as he pushed his fingers against her g-spot, curling them in the exact right spot to make her drip. She leaned back onto her hands, spreading her thighs wide for him. When she looked down out of the bottoms of her eyes, she saw that his dick was hardening again, and felt her body flush with excitement. But his fingers weren’t finished with her, either; he curled them again, pressing hard against her until her hips actually lifted off the table.

“Come for me,” he ordered. “I want to watch you come, and then fuck you ‘til you come again…”

“Fuck, yes,” she moaned, feeling his fingers drive themselves against her g-spot again and again.

She’d been ready to go, delirious with the taste of him and the feel of his cock in her throat, and she barely had time to think before her first climax broke over her in a wave, spreading across her body, turning her nerves to ice and then melting them down, again and again. She opened her eyes, found his, and did just what he’d said; she came for him, just for him.

It was all he needed to get hard again, and when her pussy finally stopped throbbing around his fingers he pulled them out, grabbed her by the waist, and yanked her forward until she was nearly at the tables edge. Her knees lifted and he grabbed her thighs, spreading them apart and up. One stroke and he was inside her, buried to the hilt and pulsing.

The angle drove him deep, the head of his cock directly stroking her sweetest, most tender places while the base of his shaft ground against her clit. Tricia’s jaw clenched as her body tried to make sense of the pleasure, still barely recovered from the first orgasm, now building up again to another.

“Oh, fuck, Damon, fuck, oh god,” she moaned, saying his name over and over again as he drilled into her. Her legs parted wider, her ankles meeting across his back and holding him in tight. With one hand holding her around her waist, he lifted the other to her chest, taking hold of her breast and cupping it, running his thumb across her nipple; at the same moment, he buried himself inside her and shifted his hips in a circle, grinding against her clit.

She exploded again, bright red light across her vision and fireworks up her spine. Her pussy drenched his cock, her mouth screamed his name, her body rippling and crackling with delight, ripe and flush and all his. He devoured her pleasure and turned it into his own, exploding inside her with what little he had left. Her pussy milked the cum from his cock, begged for it, her thighs holding him tight as he shuddered and spasmed inside her.

Groaning as he pulled away, his face looking pale, Tricia was forced from her post-orgasmic bliss by her worry for Damon.

“Baby!” she cried, hopping off the table as he stumbled back and fell, heavily, onto the bed. “Fuck! Did you…”

“No,” he said, panting and looking up at her with a smile across his lips. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just…shit.”

“Lay down,” Tricia said, pulling at his arm until he scooted back across the bed and lay on his back, his hand resting against the bandage on his chest. Tricia untied it and peeked down the side; no bleeding, no sign that his stitches had come undone. She sighed in relief, retied the bandage, and crawled into the home he offered her under his outstretched arm.

“We need to be more careful about that,” she said, finally letting herself sink into the sensations that still filled her body.

“Sure,” he said, nodding, his eyes closed.

“How’s your jaw?” she asked.

“Fine,” he answered, and peeked down at her out of one eye. “Don’t worry about me, baby. I’m solid.”

“Well, I know that,” she purred, letting her hand draw up and down his torso. She hummed against him and they lay in silence for a while, just enjoying the warmth of their bodies in the cold, air-conditioned room. The bandage obscured part of Damon’s lighthouse, the unfinished tattoo across his abs.

“When are you going to get Cristov to finish this?” she asked, the question more of a mindless musing than anything else.

“Well, I want to - have to go to Providence before I go back home,” Damon mused, dragging the tips of his fingers up and down her back. “From here, that could take…oh, a week, or more. And then…”

“…then a few days back to Kingdom,” Tricia said, trying to keep the sigh from her voice – and failing. Damon peered down at her. She was looking over his chest, at the far wall.

“Or not,” he said, now making spiraling circles on her back. She put an arm on his chest, used it to prop up her head to look at him straight-on.

“You’ve got somewhere else in mind?”

“I’ve got anywhere else in mind,” he said, speaking slowly and judging her reaction. He saw the way the corners of her lips lifted. “The perk of being your own boss, you know, is that you can put someone else in charge whenever you want. Or, hell, shut down until you get back.”

“That’s not…that’s not good business strategy,” Tricia said, looking away from him so that he couldn’t see the way her smile was trying to come out.

“I guess you’re right about that,” Damon said. “Some would even say it’s…crazy.”

“Yup,” Tricia said, hoping he couldn’t feel her jaw move as her smile widened.

“Romani are very frugal, did you know that?” Damon went on drawing his circles and pretending he didn’t know about her smile. “Very good at saving. And pretty thrifty.”

“Is that so?” Tricia mused, nudging herself closer to his hard, warm body.

“It is,” he said. “But – I guess you’re right. It’s crazy to just not go back to your job. You have a job to go back to, right? Oh, wait…”

“Hmm,” Tricia hummed.

“But you need to find a job soon,” Damon continued playing along. “Because you’re running out of all that money you won in the…oh, wait…”

“Okay,” Tricia finally said, lifting herself up on her elbows and looking him in the eye. “Enough of this. Are you serious?”

He opened his arms wide, palms out, as though to show that he had nothing up his sleeves; easy enough, since he was naked, but the gesture was symbolic.

“I’ve got nowhere I
need
to be anytime soon,” he said. “And it’s a big country. And you sure seem excited about the idea. I like my woman when she’s a little excited.”

He winked at that and surprised her, rolling over and taking her with him, until she was on her back with his weight, sturdy and strong, above her. His green eyes didn’t look so shadowed anymore. Her fingers found his biceps, played gently on his muscles, running up and down.

“Are you gonna say yes?” he growled teasingly. “Or am I gonna have to beg you?”

“I like the way that last option sounds…” she purred, eyes half-lidded.

“Tricia Garland, will you help me do what a gypsy does best?”

“That depends, what does a gypsy do best?”

“Go where he wants, when he wants, how he wants…all while loving the shit out of his woman?”

Tricia leaned up, met his lips with her own, pulling him down with her as her head hit the pillow once more.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, whispering in her ear. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the steady pulse of his heart against hers.

“Can I DJ?”