Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,60

her after a day like today.

I’m going to lose my mom, but maybe, the universe put Jo in front of me to help me through it. I close the door behind me and lock it, and I watch Jo for a minute. She’s effortlessly beautiful, the kind she doesn’t notice but everyone else does. She looks good in my home and sitting that plump ass on my leather couch. Her toes tap against the black shag rug, digging her bare feet into the long material. I do that all the time. It feels good.

She’s made this house feel and look like a home.

I push myself off the door with my foot and stroll to her side. I stop her from brushing her hair, and she jumps in fear. “You scared me, Eric!” Her breaths are heavy. I notice she changed the bandages on her arm after she showered.

Fuck, I’m proud of her.

I need her in my arms. Anywhere else is a place she doesn’t need to be.

I hold out my hand without saying a word, and she gives me a questionable look. She places her brush on the coffee table. “What are you doing?” she asks, sliding her hand in mine. She stands, and I walk us over to the middle of the living room, and I spin her in a circle then yank her to my chest.

And we dance.

The song is passionate, raw, and I swear it’s a song for us.

“Does spinning you hurt your arms?” I know the pressure of lifting her hands in the air from natural force of gravity can pull on the stitches, but it’s been a few days, and she should be feeling better. Still, I never want her in pain.

She shakes her head, and I see she’s blushing. “What?” I ask.

“I’ve never danced with anyone before.”

“Me either,” I admit, twirling her across the floor again. “I can’t wait to discover more firsts with you.” Her hand is in mine, and I bring them between us and against our chests. Our hips move together, slow, sensual, and seductive.

“Me too.” The words leave her lips sweetly, and I naturally lean forward to kiss her, but pause, liking the tension that’s building.

Our mouths are an inch apart, and my free hand outlines the curves of her body until I grip her hip. I tug her to me so we are flush, and now we’re barely moving. We are swaying, but we aren’t dancing, not anymore.

It’s morphed into foreplay.

I dip her and she throws her head back, her hair cascading down toward the floor until the ends almost sweep across the rug. I bend down and kiss the middle of her chest. Her chest stutters from the caress, but I don’t plan to stop there. Dragging my mouth to the right, I lay another kiss on the swell of her breast before moving to the other one and doing the same. I’m rock hard, dying for the simplest touch from her, but I never want to push. I’ll dance forever if it means feeling like this.

Her neck is slim with an elegant curve and protruding collarbones. I can’t help it. My tongue flicks out and traces the silky ridges, and then I open mouth kiss her pulsing vein on the side of her neck. Her hips rock against the erection straining in my jeans, and the sound of ecstasy that escapes me is also a first.

Sure, I’ve gotten off, plenty of times. With my hand, with other women, but I’ve never felt passionate about someone. Caring for Jo has heightened all my senses, and every touch I receive from her is compared to how the body feels before an orgasm.

Both of us are breathing hard from this erotic torture we’re giving each other. She lifts her head, and we lock eyes. I see the want and hesitation staring back at me. I wait. She controls this. Jo thrusts her hips down again, rubbing her pussy against my cock.

My mouth drops open, and I look down to see her rutting against me, whimpering just like she was in the truck. Still, I wait. I wait to see what she wants to do next. Maybe she wants to orgasm by using me, and I’m more than okay with that.

Jo’s been taken advantage of for too long, so it’s her turn to take.

“Eric, please,” she begs and rides my jean-covered erection faster. I’m going to have denim burn if she keeps this up, but again, I don’t give a damn.