Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) (14 page)

Slowly, they relaxed. King slipped his fingers out of her slick channel, Naomi released him gently. They sought each other’s lips now and their mouths met in a kiss so honest and pure, in some ways, it felt like their first kiss.

King took a deep breath and looked down at himself. Yep, he’d gotten messy.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I haven’t lost it like that since high school.”

She laughed. “Sorry.”

“God, no, don’t apologize. It was amazing to lose it with you.” He kissed her nose. “Thank Christ today’s Saturday, or I’d be going to work without my boxers.”

Her eyes sparkled. “But aren’t you army boys in to that? It
is
called going Commando for a reason, right?”

“Sassy,” King said. He rolled over on to his back, carefully pulling her with him. “Come here, honey.”

She rested her head on his chest, her fingers running over and over its expanse. Delicately, she traced the lines of his tattoos. “Why so many?”

“Tattoos?”

“Yeah. From your days in the military?”

“Some are from then. Some I had before, but most are from since. I just like ‘em. I think of them as art, as a form of expression. Like painting, I guess.”

Naomi kissed his chest. “Maybe I should get one.”

King was surprised. “You want one?”

“Maybe. I’ve always thought about it, but could never really decide on what to get.”

“Yeah. Make sure it means something to you.”

“I will.”

He dropped a quick kiss on the back of her neck. “I need a shower.”

“Me too. You want some company in there?”

“Damn right I do. Though I can’t promise to behave myself if you stand in that shower with me, all wet and gorgeous.”

“I can’t promise that I’ll mind too much.” She glanced down. “And give me your boxers – I’ll throw them in the wash.”

He grinned. “But then I’ll be trapped here until they’re dry.”

“Yep. You’ve figured out my evil plan.”

“It’s OK if I stay for a while?”

“Yes.” She suddenly looked unsure. “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you
want
to stay?”

He studied her closely, hearing more than just the words. That question had layers and depths, and he wanted to make sure he was getting them all. “You mean today?”

“Today. And not just.”

“Baby, I’ll stay today, tonight, tomorrow, all weekend. I’ll stay as long as you want me to be here with you.”

“You promise me?”

“On my heart.”

“I’m not asking you to move in,” she said quickly. “I’m just – I’m asking if you can stay. Just for a little while longer.”

King kissed her, his mouth gentle. “I can do that, Naomi. I’d
love
to do that.”

**

That night they were lying in Naomi’s bed, naked and panting after stroking and rubbing each other to the point of breath-stealing climax. King took a deep breath, wondered if his legs would get him as far as the bathroom to clean up.

Naomi rolled on to his chest. “Dear God. Sober orgasms are the
best
.”

He laughed. “Oh, yeah. No argument from me.”

She sighed and the sweet, sated sound did all kinds of things for both King’s ego and his heart. He loved knowing that he could do this to her, that he could make her look and sound like this. And when she came on his fingers and he swallowed her cries of pleasure in to his mouth, he could swear that he almost saw heaven in her eyes at that moment. She was perfect, pure, begging need. He’d never seen anything so fucking raw or beautiful.

With regret, he pulled away from her lithe little body. “Be right back, baby.”

“Mmmmmm.” She made a small sound of satisfaction mingled with pouting and he laughed. “Hurry back.”

“Oh, I will.”

She watched his firm ass walk out of the room and almost licked her lips. Holy Lord, the man was smoking hot, with those massive back muscles and long legs. She enjoyed the view upon his return equally, though: that carved chest and those chiseled abs, not to mention that huge, amazing cock. She loved getting her hands on it, loved how it responded to her every touch. It was mouthwatering, and she was already longing to take it in her mouth, make her fantasy of having this huge, strong man at her mercy and under her lips come to life.

King carefully cleaned her with a wet cloth, then settled back in to bed with her, tucking her in to his side. She slid right on in there perfectly, her small frame fitting his like a bookend. He marveled at how well their bodies went together, despite the huge differences in their height and width. But he supposed that when it was right it was right, and even things that should make no earthly sense just came together perfectly.

She was quiet now and he wondered if she had fallen asleep. He brushed his rough fingers over her back.

“Matt?”

“Yeah, honey? You cold?”

“No, I’m OK. I was wondering if I could ask you about something.”

“Of course. Anything.”

“It’s about King’s Men.”

He tensed up a bit and she felt it. “Alright.”

She traced the scar on his left shoulder; traced the one on his chest. They were quite obviously scars from bullet holes and she needed to know more. Before she could even ask, he spoke.

“You want to know if I got shot on a job, right?”

“Yes.” Her fingers stilled. “You told me that your people are in danger every single time they head in to a job, but you said nothing about yourself. I want to know just how much danger you’re in when you walk out the door away from me.”

“Truthfully? Sometimes none at all. Sometimes a hell of a lot.”

She paled. “OK.”

“Some ops are just plain old cakewalks for my people, so I don’t go along. They’re professionals and they don’t need anybody holding their hands, believe me. And anyway, the whole point of having a team like this is so I can parcel them out and trust them to take care of business. It’s all about delegation, and I delegate to the best.”

“And other times?”

“Yeah, well, some jobs are all-hands-on-deck and those include mine. Sometimes I just need to be there as muscle – I can throw a punch if I have to – and sometimes I’m there as back-up. If things go south, I go in with my team and I have their backs, just like they have mine.”

“And these?” She was tracing the scars again. “How’d these happen?”

“Yeah, those were bad situations. They went to shit fast and hard and we went in shooting to get my people out.” He sighed and touched the one on his shoulder. “This one I got from a drug cartel on the Mexican border. Nasty little assholes and they had one of my girls tied up. They were going to pump her full of their drugs and then do God-only-knows-what, so we had to get her the hell out.”

Naomi was startled. “Was she OK?”

“Lilly? Hell, yes. We got her to her feet and right away she drop-kicked one of them in the throat. Said that he’d tried to kiss her and his breath stank.”

Naomi laughed.

“This one.” He patted the scar on his chest. “Sex trafficker.”

“What? Where?”

“Right here in Denver, darlin’. A fucker named Kirk Jensen.”

“Jensen? That name sounds familiar.”

“It should. He’s notorious around these parts.”

“So if he’s a known sex trafficker, why is he running around free?”

“Because he’s vicious and twisted, but he’s also as smart as hell. Always covers his tracks, always has alibis lined up, always has someone on his payroll to take the fall.”

“Did he shoot you?”

“Nope. One of his henchmen. Guy named Donovan Kane.”

Naomi gasped and sat straight up. “Donovan Kane?”

“Yeah.” He stared at her, surprised at her reaction. “You’ve heard of him?”

“Um. Yes.”

“How?” His voice was sharp. “How do you know him? He’s bad news, baby, and I don’t want you anywhere
near
that guy.”

“I don’t know him. I know his sister.”

“Oh.” King relaxed, then he paused. How did Naomi even know Kane’s
sister
? That whole family was a nightmare and King had had dealings with both Kane parents and more than once. Funny how a sister had never come up on his radar.

That was when a few puzzle pieces slotted in to place. He’d met Mirrie at Naomi’s eleven-month coin presentation and something about her had nagged at him ever since then. Something about her face, but he couldn’t place what it was at the time. He was sure he’d never met her before, but he knew she looked familiar.

Ah, right. That must be Kane’s sister. Same nose, same mouth, but Mirrie has those incredible purple eyes and Donovan’s are like cold, black pools.

King saw no need to enlighten Naomi about the fact that the last time he’d seen Mirrie’s brother, he’d been holding a knife to Sarah’s neck. Jax had gotten her the hell out of the way after Aidan had hit Kane from behind, and then King and Aidan had taken great pleasure in beating the living crap out of him for several minutes. When they were done with him, he was a bloody, battered message to send back to his clubhouse
and
Jensen. After King had had a quick word with Jensen personally, none of the boys from Kane’s MC had been back to Curves since, and everyone involved liked that just fine.

But if Mirrie was sober, it was no wonder she was away from the Kane family. Their ties to the Fallen Angels MC were firm and long-standing, with Donovan a second-generation member. King wondered just what the hell Mirrie had had to do to get away from that life. He knew her decision to walk away wouldn’t have been supported. It would have been actively thwarted, actually. Even punished.

“So – Donovan shot you?” Naomi said. “If that’s so, why is he not in jail?”

“Oh, he did go to jail for it,” King said. “For about six months.”

“For attempted murder?”

“Yep. Those Fallen Angels boys have good lawyers.”

“That is
infuriating
.”

King laughed at the look on her face. “Yeah, I know.”

She was quiet again and he saw she was twisting her fingers around and around. He took her hand.

“What is it?” he said.

“Will you – will you tell me if you’re going in to a dangerous job?”

“You want me to?”

“Yes. I want to know.”

“I don’t want you to worry.” He stroked her neck gently, still angry to see the bruising there. “I don’t want you freaking out all alone, getting stressed.”

She knew what he was really saying. “You’re worried the stress may push me to drink again, aren’t you?”

He sighed. “Maybe a little.”

“But that’s
why
you need to tell me, OK? I need to be sure you’re being completely honest with me, all the time, about everything. If you tell me you’re off to the garage and you go after a team member and get shot, I’ll never trust you again.
That
will spark the urge to drink more than anything, I promise you.”

“Breaking your trust?”

“Yes.” Her eyes were huge in her face. “I trust you, Matt, and I don’t trust many people. Besides you, I trust Mirrie and that’s it. If I thought you were keeping stuff from me, it would eat away at me.” She touched his chest. “Please. Tell me the truth and then trust me to handle it.”

“OK.”

She had been expecting more of a fight. “OK?”

“Yep. OK. You’re right. I won’t go in to details, but if I’m doing something that may get me hurt, I’ll tell you that. Then you’ll get yourself to Mirrie or a meeting. Deal?”

“Yes.”

“Any other questions about King’s Men?”

“Just one.”

“Shoot.” At the look on her face, he laughed. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”

“Yeah, you’d
better
be sorry.” She glared at him. “Anyway. My question was, why are they called King’s Men when you have women in the group?”

“Oh, man. The women get all irritated about that quite often.”

“And?”

“Well, the short answer is that when I first started the team, it was all guys, so that’s what they were called. Then we got this one job at a strip club and I needed an operative inside. That’s when I hired Honey.”

“To go undercover as a stripper?” Naomi said, appalled.

“Not much cover,” King muttered. “But yeah.”

“Urgh. Delightful for her.”

“Oh, Honey can take care of herself, believe me. She’s tiny and sweet-looking but she puts the fear of God in to each and every one of us. I do believe she could take me.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. I’m glad one woman out there can.”

He grinned at her now. “You want to try?”

“To what? Take you?”

“Yeah.” Quick as a breath, he flipped her under him, pinning her body down. He held her wrists on either side of her head, secured her legs with his own. “Take me.”

Naomi’s body was heating up again. She lifted her head from the pillow and kissed him, a sweet, lingering kiss. When she slipped her tongue inside his mouth, he groaned.

“Oh, baby, you’re killing me.” He kissed her again, harder, hungrier. “I’ll do anything in the world so long as you never stop kissing me like that, I swear.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Anything you ask.”

“So I’ve got you?” She raised her hips and rubbed herself against his hardening cock. “Did I take you?”

“You’ve got me right where you want me,” he ground out. “I’m taken.”

“Huh. That was easy,” she murmured.

“Yeah, well.” King extended her arms above her head and took both wrists in one hand now. His other hand ran down the middle of her body, heading straight for her slick folds. “You
do
catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” She gasped as his fingers found her. “And you are nothing
but
honey… fuck, you’re soaking my fingers with it.”

“Touch me, Matt.” Her eyes were glowing with her arousal. “Please.”

“I’d love to.” He circled her clit and smiled at her reaction. “Something else I’d love.”

“What?” Her voice was tight with lust.

“To taste your honey.”

She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“…Yes?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not too much? Not too fast?”

“No.”

He slowly lifted his fingers to his lips and she watched as he sucked her sweet nectar off them. He slid his fingers in and out of his mouth slowly, taking his time, luxuriating in the taste of her. No man had ever done this before, and her stomach clenched in surprise and lust. He saw her face and he grinned.