Skirt (Ruthless Kings MC #5) - K.L. Savage Page 0,33

couch, leaving me breathless and dizzy. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just took advantage of ye. Yer all sad and shit, and I just couldn’t stand to see ye cry. Ye fucking my eyes with ye lips. Fuck!” He paces and pulls at his hair. He looks like a fighter prowling the cage, waiting for his opponent to strike. The dried blood on his face doesn’t help matters any. He looks reckless, carnal, ready to kill, but when he sets those dangerous eyes on me, fear is the last thing I feel from him.

He wants me.

“Damn it!” he yells, grabs his cock to readjust it, then stomps away from me, slamming the door to the bathroom.

I hear the water of the shower turn on, and I’m left with my mind reeling. What the hell just happened? My lips tingle from our kiss, and my mind is numb. I can hardly string a complete thought together. I never felt anything like that when I kissed Cohen. This was different.

It can’t happen again.

My focus has to be on finding my son and getting out of Vegas. No matter how tempting Skirt is with his bad boy looks and his possessive charm, falling for another fighter won’t get me anywhere good in life. My son deserves the best, and being with a man who enjoys hitting flesh? It’s too much for me to handle.

What kind of mother am I to give into temptation and kiss Skirt when Aidan is missing? I cover my face with my hands and turn over to my side, letting the darkness wash over me as a welcoming cloak. I deserve the misery I feel right now. Thinking with lust instead of my brain isn’t going to get my son back.

Whatever is building between me and the sexy Scotsman, cannot happen. He’s a fighter. I’m a mother. The two don’t get hand in hand. Fighters fight for greed. Mothers fight for love. Last time I checked, greed and love only forms hate.

I’ve experienced enough hate to last a lifetime.

Skirt’s different, the voice in the back of my head pipes up out of nowhere.

I don’t care how different he is. No amount of difference can change the fact that he’s in a dangerous MC, has women walking around half-naked ready to suck cock, and he throws his fist for a living. None of that screams that this is a safe environment for Aidan.

It’s settled.

When Aidan is back in my arms, we’re putting our fighting ways behind us.

Chapter Eight

SKIRT

My cock is hard as a rock, and my balls are pulled tight to my body thinking about her lips against mine. Fuck, I’ve never had a kiss like that in my life. I’ve never felt so much desire that if I didn’t stick my cock inside her and feel her heat, I’d explode right out of my skin. It’s that feeling I’ve been waiting for.

So long now, I thought something was just fucking wrong with me because I never wanted to fuck, but now it all makes sense. It’s Lips I’ve been waiting for, and fuck if those lips didn’t taste as good as I thought they would.

I groan as I wrap my palm around my cock and stroke myself. I lean my head against the tile, letting the rush of water fall down my body, heating my skin along with the lust in my veins.

The drain gurgles as light pink water rushes down the pipe, the dried blood finally coming off my body. I pay no mind to it. I watch my cock slide in and out of my palm, wishing it was Dawn’s fucking tight cunt I was sliding into.

For the first time.

I slam my fist against the wall as I imagine how her pussy feels all wet and soft, like fucking velvet squeezing me as I fuck her. “Fuck me…” I reach down and pinch the space between my arsehole and balls. My taint is fucking sensitive. I’ve had a lot of time to explore what gets me off and what doesn’t, and the rougher I am with myself, the quicker I come.

What if Dawn likes that too? What if she likes being slammed against the wall, hand wrapped around her throat, and my cock driving into her sheath without protection? If I asked her to fight against me, would she?

“Fuck, I’m a sick bastard.” I don’t have a rape fantasy or anything. It’s hard to explain. I want her to shove my chest, slap