Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC) (20 page)

“What are you talking about?” he says, lowering his lips to
my throat.

“I’ve pissed someone off pretty badly,” I go on, my breath
coming hard and fast as Brooks kisses along my neck, “he may being trying to
hurt me.”

“Listen to me,” Brooks says, turning my face to his, “No one
is going to hurt you, Keira. Not while I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“You can tell me all about what’s going on,” he says,
sliding his hands down between my thighs, “just as soon as I’ve had you again.
I can’t wait any longer.”

I lift my quivering arms, clasping my fingers behind Brook’s
neck. My body stretches out against his, exposed and eager. He tugs my tiny
denim skirt down over my hips, and I kick the flimsy garment away. My sex is
wet and aching already, begging for his touch. Wrapping one strong arm around
my waist, Brooks slips his spare hand between my legs from behind.

I close my eyes as I feel his fingers brush against my sex.
He brings his hand to the small of my back, sliding it beneath my minuscule
thong. I gasp as I feel his fingers against my ass—brushing past that tight,
muscular circle that no man has ever come near.

“Ever felt anyone here, Red?” he growls, tracing slow
circles around the rim of my ass.

“No. Never,” I breathe, amazed at how good it feels.

“Do you want to?” he asks, his voice rasping.

“I want to feel you,” I tell him. I bend at the waist,
propping myself up on the arm of the couch. “I want to feel you everywhere,
babe.”

“Then you will,” he says, applying just a bit more pressure.
The very tip of his finger enters me, so slowly. A low, guttural groan escapes
my throat as I imagine taking the full enormity of him there. “But not
tonight.”

“Oh my god,” I moan, as his fingers find their way to my
slick slit. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Brooks.”

“There are worse ways to go, right?” he says, sliding two
thick fingers inside me from behind. I whimper at the illicit sensation, arch
my back as his fingertips glance against my clit.

“Take me, Brooks,” I plead, looking up at his blazing green
eyes.

“Oh, I plan to,” he says, his voice husky with lust.

I cry out in surprise as I feel my feet lift off the ground.
The ceiling swims up to meet me as Brooks hoists me over his shoulder once
more, and carries me across the room to my little bed. I should be used to this
by now, getting thrown around in the best of ways. But it just never gets old.
He lets me roll onto my narrow bed. I sprawl out on my back, slipping out of my
thong as Brooks tears off his cut and tee shirt. His ink stands out in sharp
relief, scrawling across his every cut muscle. He tugs down his jeans,
unleashing his throbbing member. My eyes land on that pulsating length. I’m
mesmerized by it as I lift my tank top over my head and let my legs fall wide
open.

“God, I love how you spread yourself for me...” Brooks
growls, stepping out of his jeans. His cock stands straight out toward me, hard
and thick.

“What can I say,” I smile, as he sinks to his knees,
towering above me, “You make me crazy. You make me want to do everything...
anything
.”

I wrap my fingers around his cock, working up and down the
length of him. He groans as I tighten my grip, struggling to take all of him in
my slender hands. I scramble onto my knees, looking up at him with a wicked
grin. A sudden hunger overtakes me, and I know only one thing with satisfy it.
I lower my lips to the tip of Brooks’ pulsing dick, and let my tongue flick
against the round, smooth bulb of its head.

“Christ, Red,” he moans, arching his back, “you know just
how to work me.”

“Do I?” I breathe, rubbing along his shaft. “I love that. I
love making you feel good.”

I let the tip of my tongue glance against the very base of his
cock, licking all the way up to the tip. I part my lips, taking his swollen
head into my mouth. My tongue dances against him as my fingers pump along his
length. I can feel him growing harder in my mouth, and I ease him into me bit
by bit. I can feel him at the back of my throat, and I only want more. He bucks
his hips as I suck him, filling my mouth with the taste of him. I let my
fingertips brush against his balls, and hear him suck in a huge breath above
me.

I’ve got him right at the edge, I know it. Just as I’m about
to finish him off, he pulls away. I open my mouth to beg for another taste, but
cry out instead as Brooks grabs me by the hips and flips me onto my stomach. I
look over my shoulder as him as he runs his hands over the swell of my ass. Lifting
myself onto my hands and knees, I moan as I feel his cock poised against my
wet, eager sex.

“Holy shit,” I cry, as Brooks pushes his cock deep inside of
me, “I can feel every inch of you, Brooks...”

He rears back and thrusts again, his thick length slicing me
in two. I swear, it feels like he’s about to burst right through me. I press
back into him at every pass, driving him further and further into my body. I
want to take as much of him as I can, feel him at my very core. He goes so deep
when he fucks me from behind. It’s almost too much for me to handle. But just
as I feel myself coming up against my edge, pleasure overtakes him instead. I’m
screaming out as he fucks me, unable to contain myself. His grip tightens on my
rocking hips, and I know he’s about to lose it for good.

“I’m there,” he growls.

“Go on,” I gasp, “I want you to—”

But my words elide into a wild moan as he reaches a hand
between my legs. I feel his expert fingers fall firmly against my aching clit,
circling it as his member pounds into me. Almost at once, I come under his
touch. The blissful tremor that runs through my body sets him off, too. A chain
reaction of ecstasy. He gushes into me, filling me up as our moans of pleasure
echo off the walls of my apartment. We fall forward onto the bed together,
panting and spent. He pulls me against him on the narrow bed, and I curl into
his muscular body. After a time, our breath begins to even out, and exhaustion
creeps over my tingling form.

“So,” he says, his voice low and deep, “what is it you
wanted to talk about?”

“You know what?” I sigh, laying my cheek against his chest,
“you’re right. It can wait until morning.”

My eyes snap open in the pitch darkness, darting around the
black abyss. I’m wide-awake at once as my pulse skyrockets. Goosebumps spring
up all across my body, and my every sense sharpens to a fine point.

There’s somebody outside. Lurking just beyond the walls of
the apartment.

I listen to the slow, scraping footsteps that drag past the
flimsy front door. There’s no mistaking that sound. I’m out of bed like a shot,
throwing on Brooks’ tee shirt and a pair of shorts as I pad across the room. My
brief burst of terror gives way to purposeful action. I’ve been trained to
handle these situations, after all. I locate my purse in the darkness, extracting
my gun without making a sound. As soon as that cold steel is in my hand, I feel
ready for anything.

“Keira?” I hear Brooks mumble from bed. I whip my head
toward the sound, wishing I hadn’t woken him.

“Everything’s fine, I’m just not that tired,” I whisper, “Go
back to sleep.”

“Like hell,” he says, sitting up in bed, “why are you
whispering? What’s—?”

A shuffling sound outside answers for me. In the shadows, I
watch Brooks’ features harden into stone. He’s beside me in a heartbeat,
placing himself between me and the front door. Of course, I realize, he served
in the Navy. He’s been trained for this too. I switch off the safety on my
handgun, and a sharp click rings out through the room. Brooks looks around
sharply, his eyes widening in the darkness as he sees the weapon in my hands.

“What the hell, Red?” he hisses. “Since when do you pack
heat?”

“I’ll explain later,” I reply, “just as soon as we take care
of whoever’s out there.”

“Before, you said someone might be after you, trying to hurt
you,” Brooks whispers, laying his hands on my shoulders, “Do you think—?”

“I do think,” I say. “He knows where I live.”

With a low, primal growl, Brooks darts across the room and
pulls on his jeans. A sudden glint catches my eye as he produces a menacing
switchblade from his pocket. He nods at the door, telling me without words that
he’s going to grab whoever’s outside. I nod back, training my gun at the
doorway. Across the room, Brooks’ every muscle tenses, his body readying itself
for combat. A ripple of desire runs through me at the sight, and I have to will
myself to refocus.

“Three,” I whisper, my finger caressing the trigger, “Two...
One
.”

In one swift motion, Brooks springs at the front door,
ripping it open and reaching through. A terrified cry sounds out as my man
wrestles someone through the doorway. But the screaming voice doesn’t belong to
Bruno, as I expected it to. And the form squirming in Brooks’ arms is far too
scrawny to belong to my federal nemesis. Keeping my gun trained on the
intruder, I slam the front door and switch on the overhead light.

“Sonofabitch,” I spit, lowering my weapon at once.

Milo Beckett stares wildly around, pinned in place by
Brooks’ mighty arms. The switchblade is pressed against my crazy ex’s throat,
which could really use a shave, actually. Milo looks like a total wreck—somehow
even thinner and scrappier than when last I saw him. But any concern I might be
feeling for his wellbeing is dwarfed by my outrage at his presence in my
apartment.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I hiss.

“Don’t hurt me,” Milo whimpers, glancing up at Brooks in
terror. “Please. I just needed to see you.”

“This is the creep that’s after you?” Brooks growls, keeping
his blade trained against Milo’s skinny neck.

“No,” I say, exasperated. “This...is my ex. My crazy ex, it
would seem.”

“Him?” Brooks asks, shoving Milo roughly away, “Christ, Red.
What were you doing with this scrawny piece of shit?”

“Excuse me,” Milo says, pulling himself together as best he
can, “you have no right to talk about me like that.”

“And you have no right to be stalking me,” I spit. “You
realize it’s illegal, right? Showing up at someone’s house in the middle of
the—”

“You wouldn’t answer my texts. My calls,” Milo babbles,
looking for all the world like a particularly awkward puppy who’s been kicked
too many times. “I couldn’t get in touch with you, but I had to say—”

“There’s nothing to say, Milo,” I groan. “You were a shitty
boyfriend. I’m not attracted to you. At all. It’s over.”

“Apparently you’ve had no trouble moving on,” Milo says
sullenly, looking Brooks’ fine form up and down.

“Don’t you worry, little man,” Brooks says, crossing his
thick arms, “she’s in good hands now.”

“You seriously want to be with some macho bad boy instead of
me?” Milo asks.

“Obviously,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“But I love you,” Milo pleads, taking a step toward me. In
an instant, Brooks has stepped in his path, blocking me.

“That’s enough of that,” Brooks growls, snatching Milo by
the front of his flannel shirt. “Time for you to go.”

“I bet he doesn’t even care about you,” Milo insists, struggling
against Brooks’ grip, “there’s no way he loves you.”

“Yes, I do,” Brooks snaps back. “More than you’d ever know.”

My heart skips a beat, or three, as Brooks’ words sink in.
“You...love me?” I breathe.

“Of course I do,” Brooks says, towing Milo toward the door.
“You’re my girl, Red.”

“I love you too,” I whisper, grinning like an idiot.

“I know,” Brooks smiles. “But let’s take care of this
asshole before we—”

“He’s a thug! You hate thugs!” Milo pleads, his eyes wild.
“He doesn’t know you like I do! Quinn, please—”

Brooks stops in his tracks, examining the squirming bug in his
hand. “Quinn?” he asks me. “Why did he call you Quinn?”

Shit.

“Because that’s her name, dumb ass,” Milo sniffs. “Quinn
Collins. Don’t you even know her name, or...Oh my god.”

“Milo, shut up,” I warn.

“You don’t know!” Milo hoots, wiggling free from Brooks’
grasp.

“What don’t I know?” Brooks asks me, raising an eyebrow.
“Keira, what—?”

“Keira? Is that her alias? She’s an undercover agent,” Milo
says gleefully. “You seriously had no idea?”

“Get out of here,” I say to Milo, my voice low and deadly.
“Get out of here before I put a bullet through your balls and say it was self
defense.”

“You would never,” Milo says.

“Wanna bet?” I reply, pointing my gun at his crotch. “I’d be
doing the human race a favor.” The color drains from my despicable ex’s face,
and he eases himself toward the door.

“If you won’t have me,” Milo whines, “I’m glad he won’t want
you now, either. You deserve to be alone, you heartless bitch.”