Last Ride (Wind Dragons MC #5.5)(6)

I don’t know how Irish thought he’d get away with it anyway. Women are an inquisitive bunch, and we rarely let shit go. I can’t not tell Irish though, because I need to ask him what to do. I don’t want to lie to her, to give her bullshit documents.

How did I get myself into this? No, better yet, how do I get out of it?

I decide to evade and distract. “I think you should just tell him, Tina. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah, you’re right. I can’t ask that of you. It’s just not a topic he wants to talk about.”

I’ll bet.

“Don’t let Darren affect your happiness,” I tell her, reaching over and touching her shoulder. “Forget him. You have Irish now; you should look forward, not behind. There’s nothing for you back there.”

Nothing except skeletons.

Literally.

“I know,” she huffs, now watching Irish. “I just want to know, is all. Then I’ll move on and forget about everything that happened. I keep replaying that night in my head, you know? I want to put it behind me, but it’s not so easy. I think if I knew where he was, I could lay it to rest.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Lay it to rest, huh? Great choice of words.

Irish has some explaining to do. Lies or truth, it’s his call. Either way, he’s kind of screwed.

When Tina finds out he lied, all hell is going to break loose. But the longer he continues to lie, and the later she finds out, the more upset she’s going to be. Surely Tina can handle the truth. She’s not a fragile flower. She’s with a biker—what does she expect exactly? Darren was going to kill her; any of the Wind Dragons would have done the same to protect their women. If I were Irish, I would tell her so it doesn’t reach that point. But hey, what do I know? I’m just the woman who apparently helped put Darren behind bars, so I should have all the information on his pretend prison sentence. I could have given her a prison name, any prison name, but her snooping wouldn’t have ended there. She’d probably go to the prison. It’s something I would do anyway.

I don’t like lying, and I don’t like being put in this situation.

Irish needs to make a decision on how to handle this.

Let’s just hope he makes the right one, because what’s done in the dark always has a way of coming to the light.



“Turn the light off,” I tell Dex sleepily, as he walks into our bedroom and turns it on. Seriously, how rude. I grab my phone and check the time—I’ve only been asleep for about an hour. Dex stayed up with Asher, who must have only now gone to sleep.

“No,” he says, and I watch through one open eye as he lifts his T-shirt off and throws it on the ground.

Oh.

I open both eyes, suddenly interested, giving him my full attention. He removes his gray sweatpants. He’s not wearing any underwear.

“Hello there,” I mutter, gaze stuck on his thick, hard cock. Someone is in the mood to f*ck, and I for one am glad he decided to wake me up. Sitting up, I lift off the T-shirt of his I’m wearing, leaving me naked and ready.

He ducks his chin, intense blue eyes pinning me with a look that’s pure need. I slide the blanket aside, baring myself completely. He takes his time perusing my body from head to toe and back up again, before he stalks toward the bed and gets onto it on his knees, hands reaching for my thighs. I don’t miss the possessive look in his eyes; in fact, I thrive off it.

He spreads my thighs with his large hands but doesn’t look down at my *. His eyes stay locked on mine. He holds my gaze for a few seconds, my breaths getting deeper as I wait in suspense for him to make his next move. He leans forward then, kissing me deeply with no hesitation. I make a sound in my throat, then groan as he slowly slips a finger inside of me, testing. I’m wet, and have been ever since he gave me that look, the one that lets me know how much he wants me, right here and right now. He ends the kiss and flashes me a small smile, one that makes my heart flutter.

“We have at least four hours,” he rasps, kissing me once more. I smile against his lips, relieved to have even this brief uninterrupted stretch before Asher wakes up wanting his bottle.

“You going to f*ck me for four hours, Dex?” I ask huskily, kissing down his jawline.

I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “You doubting my abilities, Faye? You should know better by now. Maybe I should teach you a lesson.”

He pushes me back against the pillow, removes his finger from inside me, and braces himself on top of me. I spread my thighs and take his hard cock in my hand, stroking it a few times, just enjoying the feel of him before leading it to the entrance of my *.

Dex is always hard, and I f*cking love it. He really does only get better with age. He pushes forward, and I sink my teeth into my lower lip as I feel him slide into me. His hand cups my cheek as he looks into my eyes and starts to thrust back and forth, so slow and deep that it has me whispering his name, silently begging for more. He presses his lips against mine and sucks on my lower lip, gently biting before pulling away and burying his face in my neck, starting to kiss me there. He pushes my thighs up with his hands and goes in deeper.

“Dex,” I plead again, and this time he listens, going faster and harder, kissing up my neck just soft enough to not leave a mark, but hard enough that it drives me crazy. His hand moves from the flesh of my thigh to my clit, where he gently presses his thumb against me and rubs in a circular motion that he knows drives me f*cking crazy. I don’t know how people can get bored of sleeping with one person. If you do, then it’s probably not the right person for you, because to me, there’s nothing better than being with someone who knows your body so damn well that they can give you exactly what you need every time. There’s no hit or miss here; Dex will have me screaming his name, and I will fall asleep with a smile on my face.