Chased by Heather Ashley

My rage—no,my need to inflict pain on the motherfucker who somehow managed to drug Montana while she was at work—is overflowing, and I’m not sure how to keep it contained. Indy and Asher each have a grip on one of my arms and are hauling me out of Montana’s hospital room. She’s so pale and lifeless, lying in that bed with tubes sticking out of her arms. I’ve been standing here, watching her chest rise and fall, knowing she’s going to wake up but not feeling much relief.

How many more close calls are we going to get before this guy succeeds? I fight every step as they drag me back until we’re out of the room, and when they let me go, I take a swing at whichever one of them is closest. I don’t even pay attention to who my fist connects with, only that it barely satisfies the bloodlust coursing through my veins.

My whole body trembles with the effort to rein myself back in and they hold me back.

“Calm the fuck down,” Asher snaps, grunting when I try to throw him off me again. He’s nearly as big as I am, though, and digs his damn heels in, so all I do is piss him off.

Too bad I have nowhere productive to throw my anger because if I knew who drugged Montana, I’d be on my way there now to make him suffer in unimaginable ways before bringing him to his end.

“I need to do something,” I growl when they finally release me. Starting to pace, I bet I look a whole lot like a caged animal since that’s how I feel. I’m stalking up and down the tiled hall, never venturing far from the door to Montana’s room.

“Sebastian’s already digging through the security footage from her office. If there’s anything there, he’ll have it soon.” Indy’s watching me warily from where he’s perched against the wall nearby. Both he and Asher look nearly as pissed off as I feel, with a tense set to their shoulders and fire in their eyes. None of us deal well with the bad guy getting one over on us, and it’s made even worse when someone we all care about is the one who gets hurt.

I rake my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends. Fuck, this is what I was afraid of. It’s why I should’ve never gotten involved, why I need to pull the hell back. What happens when we don’t get there in time and she’s just gone?

Fuck, and what if she’s pregnant?

I can’t even process that right now.

My throat constricts and my legs weaken to the point I have to lean against the wall to keep from slipping to the floor.

Asher, on the other hand, stays only a few steps behind me while I pick up my pacing again, probably to make sure I don’t do something stupid like start throwing punches at anyone who gets too close to this room. Then again, maybe he only wants to pace, too.

Maybe he’ll even help me unleash some violence to temper the whirlwind brewing inside me. I cut my eyes back in his direction, and the look in his eye is pure malice, and I know we’re on the same wavelength.

“Neither one of you is doing shit until we hear back from Sebastian,” Indy drawls, the most in control of the three of us, and I hate him a little bit for it. Who the fuck wants to be logical or reasonable at a time like this?

I stop pacing, and Asher runs into my back, punching me in the kidney for my sudden stop, but I barely feel it. “Have either of you checked her phone or the delivery app? Someone needs to be tracking down the dead man who delivered her food.”

“Not yet. Let me grab it,” Indy says before darting off into the room and returning a second later with Montana’s phone in his hand. He starts to tap at the screen, probably trying to guess her password, but I pluck it out of his hand and enter the four-digit code she gave me, her birthday.

“Guess you’ll handle it then?” Indy snarks while Asher punches him in the arm.

Looking up, I meet his eyes and let him see how close my beast is to the surface. I’ve blacked out on the battlefield before and come to covered in blood and gore and surrounded by bodies. We all have it inside of us—Asher, me, and hell, even Indy. Some of them are just better at keeping it locked away than I am, I guess, because I slide down the wall and take my own phone out of my pocket, making note of the driver’s info before I dial the helpline for the app.

I swear on everything I am that if they jerk me around, I’ll burn down their headquarters and piss on the goddamn ashes. As I navigate the unhelpful automatic recording to try and get an actual person, my rage rises to a whole new level that I don’t think there’s a word for. I feel like I’m vibrating from the inside out, an echo chamber where my rage plays on a loop and feeds itself until it’s so massive it tears me apart as it explodes.

Before I can succumb to the inevitable, Indy snatches the phone back and walks down the hall. I can barely hear the words he’s speaking and pull myself up off the ground. Asher raises an eyebrow at me. “Need to hit something?”

I cut my eyes in Indy’s direction and then back to Asher. “Not sure yet. I’ll let you know when I hear what he has to say.”

The two of us stand quietly until Indy finally walks back in our direction, a pensive look on his face. “I’ve got the guy’s name, and Sebastian’s tracking down an address. I assume you don’t want to leave,” he says, looking straight at me.

I’m torn between a need to make the guy who did this suffer and knowing there’s no possible way I can leave this hospital until Montana does. “I’m not going anywhere until she does, so one of you needs to go get him and bring him here.” I leave no room for argument in my command.

“I’ll do it,” Asher volunteers, pushing off the wall. “Text me the info.”

Indy taps at his phone and then passes Montana’s back to me, so I slip it in my pocket.

“Give me an hour.” Asher turns and bails, so it’s just Indy and I left waiting in this sterile hall that smells like bleach and has that gross smell all hospitals have—like death hanging heavy in the air barely concealed with antiseptic.

“You know you can’t just kill the guy without talking to him first, especially in such a public place.” Indy flicks his gaze down to the end of the hall where a nurse’s station sits, and a security camera’s mounted up in the corner near the ceiling.

“There are empty rooms,” I counter, not feeling like I want to hear his logical reasoning at this point.

“What if he didn’t do it?”

“Then he should’ve been more careful with her food!” I yell, running my hands through my hair. It’s true—I might not be the sanest when it comes to dealing with threats and attacks on Montana, but goddamnit, it’s my job to protect her. I couldn’t protect Makenna but I can do this. I have to do this.

I don’t even mean that in the boyfriendly way—not that that’s what I am. It’s literally my fucking job, and she’s in the hospital right now because I failed her.

“You need to breathe, man. Calm the hell down. If the guy deserves it, we’ll handle it, but we need to talk to him first.”

Indy’s hand falls onto my shoulder, and for a minute, I don’t push it off. I let the weight of it ground me and breathe in and out. At first, my breaths are ragged and harsh, but eventually, they slow to a more normal rhythm. “Fine, we talk to him first, but if there’s even one thing off about his story-”

“You get first dibs on the basement,” Indy promises as his eyes spark with amusement. Our boss’s basement is reserved for moments like this when information needs to be gathered quickly, or someone needs to disappear. We all know it, so it’s not exactly a secret inside the company, but we don’t normally talk about it out in the open.

While we wait for Asher, I pop back into Montana’s room and watch the steady rise and fall of her chest as she sleeps off the effects of the drugs. My fists curl so tightly, my nails cut into the skin of my palms until the trickle of blood dripping down onto the floor breaks me out of my thoughts of retribution and self-loathing.

The door creaks open behind me, and I whip around with a snarl, about to tell whoever it is to get the fuck out, but when I see it’s Asher, all the fight in me redirects toward the man I know is waiting in the hall.

I follow him out the door, being careful to rein myself in enough to not slam the door behind me. When it’s firmly closed, I spin around to face the man who hurt Montana.

He’s about what I’d expect—lanky with overgrown hair that needs a wash and an oversized hoodie. The dude looks to be about ten seconds away from shitting himself with wide, unblinking eyes and skin that’s nearly translucent. One thing is for sure—now that I’m face-to-face with him I know he’s not the same guy that walked free up in Seattle, so I don’t think he’s our perp.

As I stalk closer, my fingers flex with the need to wrap around his scrawny throat and watch the life drain from his eyes. He must see the murder in my glare because he backs up until he slams into the wall with nowhere to go, nowhere to escape to. Indy flanks him on one side and Asher on the other, so there truly is no getting out of this for him.

His only hope now is that he wasn’t the one to drug her—and that he knows who did.

The delivery guy holds up his hands in front of his face like a shield. “What the hell is going on? What do you want?” He’s trembling, and I get a sick sense of satisfaction from it.

“You delivered food earlier to this building,” I say, keeping my voice low and even while I hold up a picture of Montana’s office on my phone so he can see, and almost immediately, he’s shaking his head.

“You didn’t deliver food to this building? Because your company says you did,” Indy drawls. Asher’s standing off to the side silently glaring down at the guy, which might be worse than if he were to say anything.

“Look, some guy met me in the lobby when I was going to the elevator. H-he offered me fifty bucks to let him take the f-food to his girlfriend. He seemed excited to surprise h-her, so I took the money. I didn’t think it was a big deal.” His voice shook as he told us what happened, and I wasn’t sure if I should believe him or not.

“What did he look like? Did he give you a name or anything that might help you identify him?” Indy asks. I’m glad he’s keeping his shit together because all I can think about is what tool I want to use to torture this pathetic excuse of a human in front of me.

“I d-don’t know, man. He had brown hair and wore a black baseball hat. He was average. Brown hair, sunglasses, light skin. About my height.”

“Did he say anything else? Or have an accent?” Indy presses but I know her stalker doesn’t—not if I’m right about who he is.

The delivery driver shakes his head and I turn to Indy. “Keep him here. I’ll have Sebastian check the footage,” I bit out, stalking away while dialing the tech genius.

“Go for Sebastian,” he says when he answers, and I roll my eyes.

“Dude, you sound like a tool.”

“Did you need something?”

“No need to get snippy. Have you finished looking over the footage from Montana’s building this afternoon?” I ask, turning to look down the hall where Indy and Asher have the terrified delivery driver pinned to the wall.

“What do you take me for? Of course I’ve finished.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Sebastian is insanely smart, but his social skills sometimes make me want to choke him. “I need to know if you saw the delivery driver hand the food off to a guy in a black baseball hat in the lobby at any point between twelve and twelve-fifteen.”

With Montana out, we know there’s a small window of time when her food was dropped off, but we’re not sure exactly what time it happened, so I wait while Sebastian pulls up the footage and reviews it again.

“Oh, yes. There it is. Twelve-oh-nine. I’ll take a screenshot of the man in the cap and send it to you now.” He hangs up before I can say anything, and my jaw ticks, but I take a breath while I wait for the picture to come through.

It finally does, and I pinch my fingers together on the screen and then pull them apart, zooming in on the image. The delivery guy we have in the hall is obvious with his scruffy hair and features not at all hidden, but I can barely see any part of the other guy other than what we just learned: black hat, brown hair, pale skin. He looks like he knew exactly where the cameras were and made sure to avoid ever facing them.

Shit.

I’m going to have to let this little bastard go, even though if he hadn’t handed off Montana’s food, we wouldn’t be here right now standing in a goddamn hospital waiting for her to wake up.

“Take the dipshit home. He’s telling the truth,” I grind out between clenched teeth. I’m desperate to take out my anger and frustration on someone, but this guy’s an idiot, not a murdering, kidnapping psychopath.

I hold my phone out to Asher, who takes it and inspects the picture before he passes it over to Indy, and I face the asshole trying not to cry where he’s huddled against the wall. “We’re letting you go this time, but know we’ll be watching, and if you fuck with anyone else’s food or hand it over to someone else before it gets to the person who’ll be eating it, you’re not going to like what happens next.”

He’s nodding frantically, and I give Asher a look that says to let him go. “C’mon, dumbass,” Asher says before grabbing the guy’s arm and hauling him down the hall toward the elevator.

A nurse hurries past us and into Montana’s room, and I’m right behind her with Indy on my heels, wondering if something’s changed. When I push through the door, Montana’s sitting up in bed looking exhausted and confused, but okay. I breathe out a massive sigh of relief when her eyes lock on mine. Guilt threatens to overwhelm me because she woke up in the hospital room all alone, but there are more important things to deal with right now.

Namely, making sure she’s okay and that no one gets in this room without having to go past at least two of us—nurses and doctors included. It’s too easy to fake credentials and slip past lax hospital security. We won’t be having any of that bullshit, and her stalker has shown he’s more than capable of thinking outside the box when it comes to his twisted little game.

Indy elbows me, and I turn and glare at him, but he jerks his chin at the conversation between Montana and the nurse, and I catch the tail end of it. “...vitals look good. The doctor will be in shortly, and if he gives you the all-clear, we’ll get you discharged.”

“How long do you think that’ll take?” Montana asks, and I’m struck by how vulnerable she looks in the big hospital bed with tubes running in and out of her arms and all sorts of machines surrounding her. Her mascara is streaking down her cheeks like she was crying, and her hair’s a mess, but she’s awake and still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“Start to finish? Maybe a couple of hours.” The nurse finishes noting something in the computer beside the bed and then tells Montana to get some rest. As she’s leaving the room, the nurse’s eyes connect with mine, and I can see the desire to talk to me alone there, so I follow her out into the hall while Indy stays in the room.

When we’re outside the door and it’s closed behind us, she says, “The levels we found in her system were shockingly high. She’s lucky she didn’t start seizing.”

“Should we be talking about this without Montana?” Wasn’t there some privacy shit that hospitals were supposed to follow?

“She signed a form that allows us to talk to you. Didn’t you see her do it?” The nurse looks at me with concern, but fuck, my brain is not operating at its full capacity right now with everything that happened today. I’m finding it really fucking hard to see past the rage, guilt, and need to hunt the bastard doing this down.

“If I had, I wouldn’t have said anything, would I?” I snap, needing to get back in that damn room.

“Well, she’ll be discharged shortly, so I wanted to go over after care instructions and things for you to look out for. If she suddenly gets more lethargic or dizzy or starts vomiting again, you’ll need to bring her back in. Anything more serious than that, call 9-1-1. You should schedule a follow up with her regular physician in a few days just to be sure there’s no lasting damage, but the drugs are working their way out of her system, and once they’re out, she should return to normal. Do you have any questions?”

I shook my head, hating these types of situations. They always want to know if you have questions when they’ve dumped a fuck ton of information on you and you’re still trying to process. I can’t remember how many times I’ve been through this exact scenario with my mom, in the year between when Makenna disappeared and I enlisted, where she’d overdosed or gotten alcohol poisoning.

“If you think of anything, you can call the number on the discharge papers and one of the nurses on shift should be able to help or track down a doctor for you.” She spins to go and then pauses and looks back. “Oh, I sent over a copy of her blood work to your office. The guy still in there,” she tilts her head toward Montana’s room, “said you’d need it.”

I tell her thanks and don’t wait for her to walk away before I’m pushing back into the room. Indy doesn’t hesitate to get the hell out of my way—he steps aside before I even have to say anything. For a second, when I sit on the edge of Montana’s bed and pull her hand into mine, there’s a helplessness in her eyes that kills me, but she blinks just as quickly and it’s gone, replaced with her usual fire. I’m torn between wanting to pull her closer and make sure for myself that she’s really okay, and the fear taking root that it’s only a matter of time before she disappears too and I need to back away—get out now and save what’s left of my soul.

“You scared the shit out of me, Spitfire.” I lean closer so my forehead rests against hers, and it’s like we’re in our own little world, clearly for the moment getting closer has won out. The door closes softly behind us, and I know Indy’s left to give us some privacy, but he won’t go further than right outside the door.

“From now on, Indy, Asher, or I will get your takeout for you, and even in your office, one of us needs to have you in our sights all the time.”

She opens her mouth to protest, and I know she’s about to fight me. There are flames in her eyes, and she’s told me more than once how she hates the stalker stealing her life from her, but at this point, this is the way it has to be. “You’re being-”

“If you say ridiculous or overprotective or any other negative word for me taking care of you, I’ll really show you the meaning of overbearing.” My threat hangs heavy between us as her pupils dilate and her cheeks flush, bringing back some of the color in her face. She’s been deathly pale since the moment I found her sprawled out in an unnatural position on the floor of her office.

She’s getting fucking turned on. Christ.

But I mean every word. I’ll do it, because the one thing I’ll never fucking waver on is keeping her safe—especially when there’s an obsessive maniac on the loose gunning for her.

Her eyes narrow, and there’s a burst of happiness in my chest when I see her fire and fighting spirit coming back after what happened today. One of my favorite things about Montana is how she never backs down and never gives up.

“That’s fine. You go ahead and do that, and I’ll be over here returning the texts on my phone from Bryan. Think one of you guys can tag along on a second date later this week?” She’s got her phone in her hand and is tapping away at the screen while I’m sitting here vibrating with irritation.

“Play with me all you want, Spitfire, but we both know you’re not going out with anyone. I think I’ve made myself clear as fucking day about where things are between us.” I stare at her without wavering, the intensity behind my words surprising even me. My chest is being torn in two as I struggle internally. That same instinct that makes me desperate to protect her is also telling me to stay the hell away because this woman has the power to annihilate me.

But, then she looks at me with those bright green eyes filled with so much passion and my resolve wavers, and all I want to do is dive into this bed with her and force her to admit she belongs to me.

I hold my palm out and wait, locked in a battle of wills with her, neither one of us blinking before she finally gives in and sighs, dropping her phone into my hand. It takes me all of five seconds to delete every text from the dates she’s had from the app—after forwarding them all to Sebastian first to check into, just in case any of them are our mystery stalker—and then uninstalling the app itself. She sure as hell isn’t going to be needing that anymore—at least that’s what I’m telling myself in this moment while I’m feeling brave. Is it a lie if you desperately want to believe it?

“God, I’m such a huge bitch. I’m sorry for even suggesting I’d go out with someone else, but fuck, Ro. We need boundaries. I can’t live my life with one of you hovering over me every second. I’m fine with you guys checking over my food first after this, but I draw the line at an escort to the bathroom. A girl needs to pee in peace.”

I could’ve lost her today, like my sister—like my mother and Samantha in a different sense. Every woman I’ve ever loved has been taken or left me, and I know I’m being controlling, but I can’t seem to stop. She’s not being unreasonable, so I sigh and pass her phone back. “I know I’m not being reasonable, but every time you’re away from one of us, something happens. Every. Fucking. Time. What if I lost you today? Huh? I would have torn the city apart. Nothing would’ve gotten in the way of me finding that piece of shit and bathing in his blood. Right now, I’m trying to stay sane and do shit as legally as I possibly can because I’ll be no use to you in jail, Spitfire.”

Her eyes widen at my quiet admission and a small gasp escapes her pretty pink lips. Honestly, I can’t quite believe I’m even considering letting someone in, but things with Montana have always been different. Something about her draws me in like a spider’s web, weaving its beautiful silken threads around me until I’m so caught up there’s no chance for escape. Then again, I don’t know if I want to pull free. I think I’m her willing victim, happily offering myself up for whatever she has planned.

“You’d really do that? Torch the city to find me?” Her voice is quiet and timid. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Montana sound so unsure of herself, and it doesn’t sit right with me. Our fingers tangle together as I pull her hand onto my lap and slide closer to her on the uncomfortable mattress.

My palms are slick, and my heart’s jackhammering against my ribs, but I don’t let go of her hand. “Am I freaked the fuck out about how I feel? Hell, yes. But the thought of letting you go and being forced to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, have his babies, create a whole life with someone else, makes me homicidal. I don’t even know what to do with all the turmoil running through my veins.” I’ve always been honest, but I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing by confessing my confused feelings to her considering I’m still not sure I can take any sort of a leap.

“For now, can we just see where this goes? No dates with men I have to go hunt down later and scare off.”

Montana’s eyes swim with tears, but she has a smile on her face that could light up the darkest night. When the tears become too much and start to fall, I wipe them away with my finger. “You’re serious? Because it wasn’t very long ago you were all I’m never settling down and I’d rather chop off my dick first. Blah, blah, blah,” she lowers her voice as deeply as she can and mocks me. “And if I’m not dating anyone else, you’re not either.” She folds her arms stubbornly under her breasts.

Laughing, I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to her lips, tasting the salt from her tears. “Fine,” I hear myself agreeing, wondering what the everloving fuck I’m doing right now. My brain is screaming Abort! Abort! But now I’ve gotten her hopes up and I can’t back out or I’ll be the biggest dickhead on the planet. Plus, there’s still the whole broken condom incident, and I don’t know yet how that’s going to play out. If she’s pregnant with my kid, I’m not about to bail on her.

“Does this mean I’m your girlfriend?” she laughs and then bats her eyelashes up at me. They’re still wet with her tears and stuck together into little spikes, but her green eyes are bright.

I rake my fingers through my hair, trying to ignore how my heart’s trying to launch itself out of my chest. The g-word has me breaking out in a cold sweat and she must see it on my face because she starts to laugh and then I finally join in, thankful for the release of tension.

When our laughter dies off, I grab her other hand so I’m holding both of hers in mine. “I’m going to be honest here—the label scares the fuck out of me. Can we just… be us for a little while and see how it goes? I almost lost you today, and it can’t happen again. I truly… I don’t know what I’ll do, but I can promise you probably won’t like who I become.”

Our moment is interrupted when the doctor comes in and explains what the nurse already told me in the hall, only this time to both of us. Then, he’s signing the paperwork to let us get the hell out of here, and in only a few minutes I’ve helped her out of bed and into her clothes.

“Ugh, I feel disgusting. All I want to do is go home and soak in the world’s longest bubble bath,” she says, leaning her head against my shoulder as we walk outside. Asher’s back and has the SUV pulled around, and Indy’s walking in front of us. He opens the door to the back seat and I help Montana inside before sliding in after her. Indy hops in the front seat and we take off.

“Do you think you can hold down some ice cream?” I ask, loving the way she’s cuddled into my side but hating the reason why. If she didn’t feel the aftereffects of the drugs she was given, she’d probably be working on her phone or giving Asher shit for not at least getting one punch in on that delivery driver for her.

Although, when he meets my eyes in the rearview mirror and I see the glint there, I get the feeling he might’ve done more than punch the guy. A sense of satisfaction washes through me at that and I focus back on my girl. My fingers play with the ends of her tangled hair, smoothing it out and winding it around them.

“Only if you share with me,” she finally says after I’ve nearly forgotten I asked her a question at all.

“The ice cream or the bath?” I murmur with my lips brushing her ear, and she shivers while my dick takes notice of her reaction.

“Both.” That word falling from her lips spurs me on and I’m fully hard now with a mental picture of warm, soapy water running down her body.

“We’re stopping for ice cream,” I announce and neither Indy nor Asher blink an eye. By now, we’re all familiar with Montana’s favorite places, and she hums happily as she snuggles further into me. I don’t know if I’m being an asshole wanting her after she was drugged and in the hospital today, but outside of looking tired, she seems nearly fully recovered. I have a feeling an orgasm or two and a good night’s sleep after something to eat, and she’ll be back to the girl I know and like a whole damn lot, even if I hate admitting that shit.

I look down at her, and this light fluttering in my stomach happens like it always does when I see her. At the same time, I sort of miss her even though she’s literally right next to me, touching me.

What the actual fuck is that shit?

I shift away so I can breathe, pulling my arm away from her but she frowns and slides over closer again, and it pisses me off that I feel relieved that she didn’t let me push her away.

Her eyes flutter shut, and I watch her dark lashes fan out against her cheek before I drop a kiss to the top of her head. I’m so fucking relieved she’s okay.

Our stop at the ice cream shop doesn’t take long, and it’s only a few minutes later we’re pulling into the underground parking lot of her building. Asher goes ahead to sweep the apartment while Indy and I stay with Montana until we’re outside the apartment and Asher swings the door open and motions us inside.

I know we need to debrief, that we need to go over everything from today and see if anything new shakes out, but now my focus is on Montana. Guiding her to the bedroom, she sits on the brand new bed and bends to take off her shoes, wrinkling her nose at the new very much not custom mattress. I leave her there and step into the bathroom, getting the water running for her bath.

“Ready, baby?” I ask, the affectionate term slipping off my tongue like it’s the most natural thing in the world as I step back into the room. She nods and stands up, putting her hand in mine and letting me tug her into the bathroom. While I’m fucking obsessed with the firecracker version of Montana, there’s something to be said for this pliant version who lets me take charge and doesn’t fight me on the simple things. It sure as hell makes my job of protecting her a lot easier.

When we step into the bathroom, I let her go and shut off the water. The bathtub is piled high with bubbles and I leave to go grab a spoon for her ice cream. When I come back, I lean against the door frame and watch her strip the last of her clothes off. I’m absolutely fucking transfixed as she stands naked in front of me, and my eyes rake over every inch of her perfect body. The dip in her waist, the curve of her hips, and the swell of her breasts have me so caught up I don’t realize she’s talking until she laughs and I lift my eyes to her face.

Her cheeks are lightly tinted pink, and her eyes are dancing. “I’d ask if you like what you see, but I can tell that you do.” Her gaze falls to the noticeable bulge in my jeans, and I don’t even try to deny it. Montana is hotter than Death Valley and makes me thirstier. “Are you getting in?” she asks as she steps into the tub and her stunning form disappears under the bubbles.

I waste no time pulling my shirt over my head and stepping out of my jeans. As I walk across the bathroom, she stares at me as her lips curl into a smile so seductive, my whole body tightens in response. My dick is already half-hard under her attention, so when I step into the warm water behind her and sink down, pulling her against my body so she’s nestled right between my legs, there’s no way I’m going to keep it from turning into a full-on boner.

There’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Not that I want to.

I lean back against the tub and reach over to the counter where I stuck her ice cream earlier and peel off the lid, handing her the pint and the spoon. My fingers find her shoulders while she eats, and she moans softly while I massage the tension out of her muscles.

We stay like that for a while as she eats, feeding me a spoonful every now and then, but when she’s done, she sets the container down and then her head drops onto my shoulder and her eyes flutter closed. Her body shifts against mine, and I think I’ve been hard for a solid half hour now. My dick is pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Now that she’s arching her back against me, I can not only see her peaked pink nipples peeking out of the bubbles, but her ass is nestled right up against my dick.

There’s no way she doesn’t feel how hard I am, and when her hand finds its way into the space between our bodies, I let my hands dip to her sudsy breasts. My fingers tug at her nipples gently as her hand wraps around my length. A hiss slips out from between my teeth when she strokes me up and down and my hips shift to push my shaft further into her hand.

“You better stop that or you’re going to end up riding my cock in this bathtub,” I growled out in warning, feeling about half a second from spinning her around and impaling her on my dick.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” she says in a breathy voice as I continue plucking at her nipples and gently massaging her tits. My hand slides down her body, and her legs fall open as my fingers find her clit. I stroke her so lightly, I’m barely touching her, but it’s enough to make her squirm and beg for more.

Her neck is stretched out in front of me and I can’t help but lick her from her shoulder up to underneath her ear. She tastes salty and sweet, a heady combination that only ratchets my need for her higher now that her flavor is on my tongue. I’d love to get my face between her legs, but I’ll save that for next time. For now, with the soap and how slippery everything is, my fingers will have to do the job.

“Show me how you like to touch yourself,” I demand, and I curse when she lets go of my dick to bring her hand around to her pussy, slipping her fingers on top of mine. She guides me, slowly circling her clit until her hips are rocking with the motion. She pushes my fingers down to her opening and I slip one inside easily because she’s so fucking wet.

When I do, she gasps and arches her back even more, and I bite down on her neck, sucking the delicate skin so I leave a mark. Every motherfucker that looks at her will know to back the hell off after tonight. “Let me watch you come on my fingers before you do it again on my cock.”

Every nerve ending of mine is on fire, consumed with the need to be inside her, but I hold off until her pussy squeezes my finger and she cries out my name. When I pull my finger out of her, her thighs are shaking but I’m nowhere near finished yet. My dick actually aches, and I’m positive if I don’t get inside her in the next ten seconds, I’m going to come inside the bathwater.

That’s just fucking unacceptable.

She’s languid and relaxed now, so picking her up and spinning her so we’re nose to nose takes almost no effort. Her thighs go to either side of my hips, and I move my hand to her ass as she rocks her hips. Her wet heat slides along my shaft with the movement, and I pull her closer, grinding my cock against her swollen clit but not pushing inside her. Not yet.

Grabbing her hand, I bring it around my neck. “Hold on, baby,” I warn, before I drive myself inside her with a primal need so fierce, at the moment I feel more animal than man. I’m driven by instinct, this all-consuming desire to show her she’s mine.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

I don’t want to rush, but I’m so fucking turned on and her body is slick and tight around mine. I’ve decided heaven isn’t where you go when you die, it’s right here buried balls deep inside this pussy that feels like it was made just for me. A wave of intoxication unlike anything I’ve ever felt before washes through me and I grip her hips harder. If she’s worried about the bruises I’ll probably leave behind, she doesn’t act like it. In fact, the way her eyes are half-lidded and she’s biting her lip, I’d even say she likes it.

Montana’s tits are nearly at eye level, and I lower my head, sucking one hardened pink nipple into my mouth and grazing it lightly with my teeth as she rides me.

I roll my hips with every thrust so my pelvis hits the spot I’m learning makes her eyes roll back. Her cries of pleasure echo around the room, and I don’t know whether to feel proud of the fact there’s no doubt the guys can hear what’s happening, or pissed off about them listening in.

“Fuck, Ro. Do that again,” Montana begs as her eyes flash with a wildness I don’t think I’ve ever seen from her before and it only makes me move faster, the water sloshing over the sides of the tub and soaking the floor. It doesn’t take long before her pussy clamps down around me, trying to pull me into an orgasm with her rhythmic contractions as she comes.

Pleasure shoots like lightning up my spine as I come so hard, my whole being shatters and is remade into something entirely new. It’s the most intense experience of my life, and my vision is crowded with blackness for a few blissful seconds until I come down, still hard as hell and still buried inside her.

Montana’s forehead rests on my shoulder, and we’re both breathing hard as we come down. I drop kisses along the side of her neck and watch goosebumps break out over her skin despite the warm water that has now sloshed all over the floor.

Suddenly it hits me and I go very still. She notices and lifts her head to look at me with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“We didn’t use a fucking condom.”

She frowns slightly and then shrugs. “Sorry, not sorry.”

Goddamnit it. The condom breaking? That was an accident, but this… this was something else. This was primal and for the first time in my life, I forgot. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s like my subconscious wants to get her pregnant, the fucker.

“We’ve already done it once, so if we go again it won’t really make a difference, right?” she asks as her eyes darken and her hips wiggle reminding me that I’m still fucking rock hard and buried inside her. “I hear orgasms are great medicine, so how about a few more?”

Tonight, I’m feeling reckless, and if I’m living dangerously, might as well make the most of it, right?