Devil: Demons MC

4. Four - Meyer

Four - MeyerI had her wrapped up in my arm, her warm, pliant body pressed against my chest, her legs falling open slightly at my sudden tug on her, leaving my leg to press against her skirt in an attempt to nudge between them. And all I could think was, What the hell am I doing?

The word “wife” seemed to linger in the air, caught on a hot current that kept it floating just between us.

The asshole on the other side of Nadia was staring at me with a livid expression. It had been a one of utter surprise and confusion, but when I didn’t back down—and when she didn’t correct me—it shifted instantly. Whatever calm, cool exterior he’d been faking shattered into about a thousand pieces, each of them crunching into dust beneath my proverbial boot.

I didn’t know who this guy was, but I could guess. Guess by the way Nadia clung to me, even though she had denied me earlier. Guess by the way this guy had been grabbing her arm tightly, too tightly. Guess by the way he was shooting daggers at me.

Probably an ex-boyfriend, and a jealous one at that.

Not that I could blame him. If I’d had and then lost her, I’d have probably gone nuts, too. Her body felt too good pressed against me to think that anyone would be okay with just losing something like that.

I ignored the growing desire building and straining against my jeans, focusing instead on the d**k who was trying to be menacing.

For me, he was failing. For Nadia, he wasn’t.

Her body was tense against me, but I wasn’t sure if it had to do with my holding her or with the fact that this asshole was still standing there, looking livid. I hoped it was the latter. I hadn’t meant to spit out wife, necessarily, just intending to mess with him a little bit and get him off Nadia’s back, but now that my mouth had made decisions for me, I decided I wasn’t too upset about it.

A husband was a lot more permanent and therefore more of a deterrent than a boyfriend might be.

The guy looked like he wanted to argue with my statement, but he seemed uncertain. Like he couldn’t decide if I could possibly be telling the truth. Deciding to give him a little more convincing, my hand dipped lower than her waist along her body until it reached her round, firm rear. I half expected Nadia to react by jumping away from me and shoving me, telling me I was a liar, but she didn’t. She sucked in a sharp breath, but didn’t extract herself from my embrace. In fact, I heard a tiny gasp of breath escape between her full, parted lips and knew at least some small part of her enjoyed my hand as it squeezed her butt.

The asshole looked furious, not missing my possessive grab, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he finally turned and stomped off, looking like the perfect picture of a spoiled child denied his favorite toy.

And I’ll keep denying you, you cheap bastard.

I watched him walk away and Nadia stayed in my arms, letting me grope her rear, until he finally turned a corner and was completely out of sight. That was when she rounded on me, planting her hands against my chest and shoving me back angrily.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little at her sudden outrage.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving in sharp gasps of breath, looking almost like she wasn’t angry at all, but rather caught in the throes of passion.

I decided that look would be my goal after this. I’d have to get her into bed and f**k her until her body was flushed and heaving and undulating beneath me, her cheeks a burning crimson as my name slipped from her ruby red lips.

Yeah, that was exactly what I was going to have to do to her.

Focusing on the conversation at hand, I grinned widely at her. “What, that?” I asked her, teasing. “I think that was called saving you.”

For a second, she blanched and I could see her internal struggle: thank me for my efforts or condemn me for just how those efforts manifested.

My grin widened.

She seemed to decide, because she was angry all over again. I could see her breasts pressing against her button-down shirt, looking every bit inappropriate and tempting. “You didn’t have to say we were married!”

If she were expecting some sort of apology from me, she wasn’t going to get it. Instead, I reached for her again, my large hand sliding down her curved body, just barely grazing the underside of her breast and slipping lower along her trim waist until I hit the swell of her hips, the perfect size to be hand holds for me.

She shivered against my touch, but only for a second. After that, she jerked away from me just as a taxi pulled into the parking lot. She stomped towards it, but I wasn’t letting her get away that easily. Now that I’d touched her, it didn’t seem like I could stop. I needed more. So much more.

“What did you ever see in an asshole like that, anyway?” I asked her lightly, waiting for that shock of anger once again.

She shot me a dirty look, but didn’t stop walking. Thankfully, heels were keeping her from moving too quickly and I kept up easily. When she didn’t answer me, I reached for her, my grip firm, but careful. I wasn’t interested in hurting her.

And I don’t know just how rough she likes it yet.

I pulled her around to me again, letting her body slam against my hard chest, her full, perfect t**s pressing against me in the worst and best way. Her breathing hitched and her expression shifted instantly, not looking startled or afraid or angry, instead caught in an instant of lust. Her green eyes became hooded, her lips parting slightly as she let out a tiny gasp. Her breath caught, and I could feel her heart beating wildly, her chest rising and falling against me.

It was all too hot, too much, and I couldn’t stop myself from what happened next.

I leaned my head down and pressed my lips, hard and insistent, against her mouth. She didn’t miss a beat before her mouth was open, inviting my tongue inside to explore her, her hands reaching up and sliding through my thick hair before either of us knew what was happening. She surrendered herself against me, her knees all but buckling beneath her, prompting me to gather her against me more soundly. My hands held her hips tightly, pressing her against me, and I couldn’t tell if she could feel my hardness pressing against my jeans, but I couldn’t ignore the desire to rub myself against her.

All of this seemed to take the span of moments and then she broke the kiss forcefully, shoving me back.

I had half a second to catch my breath before she pulled her arm back and whipped it back in a resounding smack against my cheek. It was powerful, but just enough to sting, really. I stared at her, letting the heat radiate through my gaze as we both breathed heavily, willing her to come back to me.

But she didn’t. She clung to her anger tightly, forcing herself to turn on her heel and stomp pointedly away from me. She slipped into the cab, not even giving me a second glance as she leaned forward to tell the cabbie where to go.

As they drove off, I just laughed a hearty, full laugh.

I wasn’t worried. I knew I’d see her again.