Gunnar A Motorcycle Club Romance - Nina Levine Page 0,25

remind myself why I’m here: for my club. We do not need any more problems with these assholes or the law they can bring down on us.

Fuck.

Shoving my fingers through my hair, I stalk away from his office. I’m about ten steps down the hall when I hear Chelsea’s voice.

My feet stop working all by themselves and I turn in the direction of that voice.

She’s sitting in the room down the hall from her husband’s office. A library from what I can see. How fucking convenient; she sits here and fucking reads while her husband works in the next room. My brain conjures up a mess of images of her fucking him in here, in there, in the fucking hall.

She stares at me, her phone to her ear, and says to whoever’s on the other end of the call, “I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dropping her phone to the couch, she stands, her black dress hitting her knees as she straightens. “Mason,” she breathes, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

I take in her long brunette hair that used to be mine to pull.

I take in her full red lips that used to be mine to kiss.

I take in her beautiful blue eyes that used to only look at me.

And then my gaze shifts to the Monopoly board sitting on the coffee table, open, in the middle of a game, and I lose my fucking mind.

Entering the library in a gush of wild, angry energy, I jab my finger at the Monopoly game. “You’re playing our fucking game with him?”

Her lips part and she glances at the game before bringing her eyes back to mine. She looks thrown, like she can’t think straight, so I say, “I know you’ve moved the fuck on, but I thought I meant something to you. That was ours. Not yours and his. Ours, Mayfair. From when we were fucking kids, it was our thing.”

“Mason—” she starts, but I don’t want to hear it.

“No,” I snarl, bending and smashing the game off the table, scattering Monopoly money, cards, and game pieces all over the floor. “Don’t fucking say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

She comes to me, so close I can smell her, touch her, fucking taste her. Grasping my shirt, she begs, “Please don’t do this. You need to go.”

Anger unfurls through me. She’s telling me to go when I was supposed to be the one person she never told to go.

If I thought my mind snapped earlier, I was wrong. It snaps now.

Grabbing a handful of her hair, I yank her head back and bring my nose to her neck so I can inhale her scent. Fuck, that vanilla perfume she loves shoots need through my veins. My dick wakes the fuck up, and the mess in my mind tangles to the point I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

I let go of her hair so I can lift her into my arms and back her up against the wall. The wall that joins this room to her husband’s office.

Pressing her against it, I find her eyes for a moment. I can’t read her thoughts anymore, and that pisses me off.

“Mason,” she says shakily, her legs around me and her hands gripping my shirt, “what are you doing?”

Taking hold of her hips, I place her down and reach for her belt. Undoing it, I throw it on the floor as I rake my gaze over her. Over the body I’ve loved too many times to count. Over the body I haven’t had enough of. Then, without warning, I rip her dress down the middle, wide fucking open so I can see that body that should be mine.

She gasps and her eyes go wide as she tries to push me away. “Fucking hell, Mason, you need to fucking leave,” she hisses.

“I’m not leaving, Mayfair.” I nudge a leg between hers and press myself closer to her. “I’m staying right the fuck here and I’m going to fuck you.” I slide my hand into her panties and my fingers through her wet cunt. “Fuck, you’re so fucking ready for me.”

Her eyes cut to the library door, filled with worry, while her hands try desperately to push me away. “Joe’s right next door.”

I grip her wrists and pin them both to the wall above her head while fingering her. Bringing my mouth to her neck, I growl, “Yeah, and it’s getting me hard knowing that I’m going to fuck you against