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Great, now my brain was conjuring up the taste of his body.

A heavy hand landed on my ass, slamming my clit farther into the hardness of the pillow. The slight bite of pain almost put me over the edge. Damn, was this what lucid dreaming was like?

“Fuck, Gunner,” I whispered his name, something I would only allow myself to do in the safety of my room.

“Ryan, if you continue to grind your wet pussy on my leg and bite my chest, I won’t be able to keep myself from flipping you around and fucking you.”

My eyelids flew open at the sound of his deep voice. His green eyes stared intently into mine, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip. Like he was getting ready to devour me.

My adrenaline spiked at the idea.

“I’m all for us fucking, babe, but make sure that’s what you want. Because when I fuck you, I’m not planning on being gentle. I’m locking you away in a room all day and night until I have had my fill of this sweet pussy,” he said, making sure to grind the thigh I was straddling against my clit at the last part. The corners of his delicious mouth curled as my body rebelled and let out another moan.

“What the fuck are you doing in my bed, Gunner?” I tried to bite out, but my words were breathy and desperate. God, I was going to need a cold shower. I attempted to untangle myself, but he gingerly wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. His thumb softly skimmed the skin at the bottom of my ribs, which I realized were bandaged. The intimacy of the moment caused my heart to stop. This wasn’t what happened to me; men didn’t tend to me or show me they cared.

Not even Mario did that.

It was dawning on me that I was more of a possession than a person to Mario.

“First of all, you’re in my bed, babe. And second, I know that look. You look like you want to run.” He buried his nose in my hair, drinking me in. “But there’s nowhere to go I won’t find you, Ryan.” His words were like a caress on my soul, and my body reacted. Everything tingled with an emotion I couldn’t place. My eyelids fluttered closed, and my fingertips dug into his chest.

“Now, Brujita, stand at the edge of the bed like a good girl and let me check your cut,” he commanded.

“Whatever, Gunner, make it quick. I have places to be,” I snarked, attempting to sound unfazed. But it was utter bullshit. Gunner had the evidence of my feelings coated on his thigh.

Should I be concerned with hot I thought that was?

He pulled his face back, eyebrow raised. “How hot what is?” he asked.

My eyes widened at the realization that I’d said that thought out loud. Wanting to avoid his question, I scrambled out of his bed like my ass was on fire. I told myself I was doing as he said so I could sort out last night’s shit show. Or I hoped it was last night. It dawned on me that I didn’t know how I got here or how much time had passed since meeting Sam.

Fuck, Sam.

I went to open my mouth, but Gunner beat me to it. “We need to talk about what happened last night, Ryan,” he said.

“Yeah, like how the fuck did I get here?” I asked, my voice trailing off the moment warm hands grasped my hips, guiding me to stand between his legs. I was trying to avoid looking at the massive bulge barely being concealed by his black boxer briefs. But looking at the tattoos snaking up his muscular thighs wasn’t much better.

“Stop staring at my dick, Ryan. Just ask for it if you want it,” he said while leaning forward and inspecting my newest scar. I was about to sass back some bullshit about me not wanting him or his body, but his dangerous growl stopped me in my tracks.

“Fuck, Ryan.” His eyes met mine. They held an intensity that shocked me. “How many times have you gotten hurt? What the fuck is your beautiful body doing with this many scars?” he seethed. His tone made me defensive. It sounded too close to how Mario spoke to me. “Fuck off” was on the tip of my tongue when his hands gently cupped my face.

“I can’t risk worrying about you, Ryan. I have a job to do, and I can’t do that and be worried about you.” He ran his hands over his face before looking at me again. “And before you tear me a new asshole, I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. But I need you to stop doing things solo. Okay?” His hands traveled up my abdomen, leaving goosebumps in their wake and heat pooling at my core. “You call me when you go do things like you did last night—for my sanity.” The sincerity in his voice sent me into a panic. I didn’t know how to react to tenderness.

Stepping back, I tried to distance myself, feeling too exposed. And the feeling had nothing to do with me only wearing a red bra and thong right now.

“Gunner…” I blabbered, lost on what words to say. With a soft smile, Gunner wrapped his hands around the back of my thighs, pulling me so our bodies almost touched.

“I found your body in a fucking alley, babe. Lying in a literal pool of blood, I didn’t know if it was yours or not. It pisses me off that no one was there to help you. That I wasn’t there to strip the flesh from the motherfucker who thought he could mark you.” His thumb rubbed across the bandaged wound. “You didn’t call me to tell me what you were doing. We have a partnership now, remember?” he asked. His stare was so intense it was hard for me to keep eye contact.

I was taken aback by the rawness in his voice, like I’d hurt him by not telling him where I was.

“Gunner, we have a partnership when it comes to running guns. I don’t have to involve you in everything I do. Besides, the look on your face the last time I saw you told me you didn’t want to talk outside of work,” I shot back. A yelp followed by a moan fell from my mouth as his calloused hand slapped my exposed ass cheek before rubbing away the sting.

God, what was wrong with me?

“Wrong answer, babe. From now on, you don’t make a move without letting me know. Got it?”

“Gunner…”