He remained silent, just watching her.
Did she need him to ground her? Sometimes when he was holding her firmly, giving her orders, she wasn’t thinking. Right now, her brain was all over the place, looping like mad. She wanted to throw things. At him. At his club. She honestly didn’t know what she wanted—or needed. Only that she hated that he could look so in control when he knew someone was going to try to kill him and she was a mess. Why was he always so in control?
Finally, he sighed. “Seychelle, come here.” He pointed to the spot between his legs.
He had that damn voice. Low. A kind of caress that brushed over her skin like the velvet rasp of his tongue. She shook her head, because her brain said no, even when her body said yes. She even took a step toward him, blood thundering in her ears, attempting to drown out the noise that refused to make any sense looping in her brain, making her want to yell at him.
“Baby, you’re only making this harder on yourself. You know you want to come here to me. You need me. It’s written all over your face. You have to do it, angel. I can’t do it for you. It’s always your choice, you know that.”
She took two more steps toward him before she stopped herself and considered, one hand pushing against her trembling lips.
She both hated and loved him for giving her a choice. She didn’t want to make decisions. She wanted to bury her head in the sand like an ostrich, not see what was right in front of her, because if she did, then she’d know why she was there. She didn’t want to be with Savage for that reason—to be used. She wanted to be with him because he loved her. Because she was part of him. Because he couldn’t bear to be away from her.
Right now, she needed to know she was loved. She needed to feel the emotion from him surrounding her and comforting her. She’d felt him considering whether or not he should turn to other women for his precious blow jobs. Just for that moment, that he would even consider such a thing after what happened the last time, after breaking them up, the time apart, how miserable they both were, she was devastated all over again. How could he? How could he even contemplate such a thing?
“Babe, you’re shaking, you’re so upset, but you’re not talking to me. Are you angry?”
Was she? Mostly, she was hurt. And so frightened for him. But yes, she was angry at him as well. She nodded slowly.
“Take another step closer and lose the top. Did I hurt you? I know the club hurt you. Did I hurt you? Tell me how I hurt you.”
She took the step before she could stop herself. Her hands automatically had gone to the hem of her T-shirt, and she pulled it off. The evening air felt cool on her overheated body. She stood facing him in just her lacy bra and jeans. Her nipples felt like twin flames in spite of the breeze, or maybe because of it. Maybe the coolness emphasized the hot blood flowing in her veins.
She nodded again. “Yes. You hurt me. Twice. Last night and again today. I don’t care about the others anymore.” She didn’t. She was done with the club. Finished. They weren’t going to be part of her life.
“Come here to me, Seychelle, right here.” He pointed between his legs again. “You need to take off your boots. I can’t make things better unless you’re right here.”
He was using that voice, the one that crawled inside of her head, the one that wrapped around her heart, the one that stroked her sex until she was weak and so slick with need, she blindly followed his every command.
She found herself standing between his thighs, caged there, shaking, feeling a little desperate but unable to articulate what she wanted or needed from him.
Savage curved his palm around the nape of her neck, urging her close to him, so close she felt the heat of his groin press tightly against her bare stomach. His mouth was gentle on hers, his lips brushing back and forth.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, baby. We’ll talk about that after. Straighten it out. I never want to hurt you. We should have cleared things up last night. From now on, let’s make a pact that we won’t go to bed hurt or angry. We’ll talk it through.”
He kept brushing his lips back and forth over hers. He didn’t really kiss her, but the promise was there. It was sweet. Not fire. The fire was smoldering between her legs. A slow burn that kept building for no reason other than he reached behind her and unhooked her bra. His gaze dropped to her breasts as he tossed her bra on the table. The way he looked at her body, so hungry, so filled with an obsessive craving, almost as if he couldn’t wait to get his mouth and hands on her, brought that flame between her legs up another fiery notch.
“You with me, baby?” he murmured against her lips. His hands dropped to her jeans, opening them, pushing them off her hips, sliding them over her generous curves, taking her panties with them. “Push them down the rest of the way and step out of them, Seychelle. Boots all the way off, and step out of your jeans.”
It was a relief to get the material off her sore skin. The night air soothed her almost as much as being close to Savage did. She stripped off her boots and the rest of her clothes, folding them while he stayed very still, his eyes hooded and watchful.
“Come up here, Seychelle.” He patted his lap.
She caught her lip between her teeth. Did she really want him to punish her? Why did she need to be punished when he was the asshole? He’d been thinking of other women. He’d dragged her to this hideous place with people who didn’t want her here. All of them knew exactly what was going to happen here with the exception of her. So why should she crawl willingly into his lap and let him smack her? Hard. Right over the top of those stripes on her sore bottom.
She took a step back and looked up at him, letting him see her anger. Her defiance. The confusion in her eyes.
“I know you’re upset, baby. I can’t make things better until you let me.” His voice was low. So gentle. He held out one hand to her. “I love you more than life, woman. I’d do anything for you. Anything. You name it, I’ll do it.”
She lifted her chin. “Would you get on your bike and ride out of here with me if I asked you to go?” She gestured to the club members that were at their campfires in a semicircle around Savage and Seychelle, but giving them plenty of space.
“Yes. You know I’m needed here, so you would never ask me to leave without a good reason. So the answer is yes, Seychelle, if you asked me to take you out of here, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
That was not the answer she’d expected or even wanted to hear. She let him see despair clawing at her belly. “Saving your life isn’t considered a good reason, is it?”
He trailed a finger from her chin, down her throat, between her breasts to her belly button. “No, princess. I don’t die so easy, and we came here knowing someone was going to make their try.” He patted his lap. Lowered his voice so that he was the devil. Sin. Temptation. Her savior. “Come here, baby. Let me take care of you.”
She knew she was going to give in to him, not for him but for herself. She needed him. She needed to fly away from the thundering chaos in her head. She crawled up his body, using his arms to pull herself over him, and draped herself over his lap. He sat on the table, rather than the bench, so she found herself staring at the planks of wood that made up the tabletop. Her breasts floated free, the evening air tugging at her nipples. He rubbed her exposed cheeks and then pushed her thighs gently but firmly a hand’s width apart.