Heart Ties (Club Ties Book 2) by Em Petrova Read Free Book Online

gripped his cock and bit off a roar as he rolled the flesh through his fingers, right to the swollen head. Pleasure curled up from the base of his spine. He lashed his balls to his body with his free hand while pumping his shaft with the other.
    The stinging cold spray of water was distracting him. He switched off the water and leaned against the wall, fucking his fist. Hard and fast.
    No, he wanted Delta slow and thorough, especially the first time. Cradling her face, kissing her for an hour before he even plucked at her hard nipples. Dammit, thinking of her breasts increased his need tenfold.
    He rocked into his hand, needing her body. And that voice—Christ, a man might want to be sober for a voice like that.
    His cock extended another fraction as he played the throaty, feminine tones through his mind. She’d said his name only once, but it shattered part of him. He hadn’t admitted it to himself at the moment, but since then, he’d conjured the memory countless times.
    A voice like hers could make a crowd roar.
    Or a man.
    He bit off the sound as pleasure steamrollered him. Hot come pumped over his fingers. He dragged his teeth over his lip, thinking of Delta clenching around him, of how her beautiful face would look.
    Breathing hard, he stroked out the last of his orgasm. Tingles of heat danced over his skin, and he switched the water back on. Shit, he’d never lost his head over a woman like that before. Not even that tantalizing little hooker in Kabul. After months of killings and bombings, he’d hailed a cab and sneaked into a brothel, where a woman he didn’t know had satisfied him twice.
    Some Marines believed themselves in love after smacking some Kabul clam, but not Drake. He’d climbed off the woman, paid her a hefty tip, and then went back to blowing shit up.
    He leaned his head against the cold tile wall. What was different about Delta? It might be the fuck-you air about her, or the tattooed sleeve of flowers. It was impossible not to wonder what tattoos he couldn’t see.
    Fuck, he was getting hard again. In seconds he was fully erect, his fingers wrapped around his thickness, dreaming about peeling those goddamn tight clothes off Delta and exploring.
    He had to stay sober today so he could kidnap her again.
    •●•
    The sun was shining on Delta today. Not only did she get Fisty off without touching him, but he’d slumped over, passed out in the seat after his orgasm. Delta had driven to the store, shopped, loaded the car, and gotten them back to the club without incident.
    Micky had met her at the door and ushered her inside so she wasn’t seen, while the sweet butts unloaded the bags and put away the items.
    Girl had been sent to the main room, where Houlihan made her kneel at his feet and the guys discussed how Marx had gotten thrown into a Dumpster without memory of who had done it.
    They also talked about how Doc had fixed up Trayson. He wasn’t dead—unless infection from an underground surgery got him.
    Now the club was still and quiet. The guys were either passed out or had retired to their rooms with pussy. Delta crept through the darkened room and headed toward the back door.
    Long ago she’d discovered that she could sneak out. As long as she didn’t try to leave the gates, she was okay. There was a place infinitely more intriguing than the outside world, and she headed for the ladder leading to the roof.
    Her knees were stiff from hours on them, and she sported a few new bruises from Houlihan’s ring against her cheek. Nothing new, and nothing she couldn’t withstand.
    Hand over hand she climbed up into the darkness. The roof was a refuge. Here she could gain a few minutes of solitude and stare at the stars. The twinkling gems in the sky were balm to her spirit, giving her the strength to live another day.
    She crawled onto the roof, still warm from the scorching-hot day. She tucked her knees to her chest and tilted her head all the way back so the only thing she could see was the