Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
Bonnie
“What on Earth are you doing?” I asked, coming back into the bedroom with a tray of breakfast foods and coffee to find Sully standing next to the bed with one leg up on the footboard, bending his upper body down toward the mattress.
“I don’t think this scene in our book is physically possible,” he declared, dragging a surprised choking sound out of me.
Right before I’d gotten up to go get us some food, he’d been reading aloud from one of the books that I’d brought. And let’s just say it was thin on the plot but heavy on the steam. There’d been a lot of uncomfortable shifting in my seat while he read scene after scene of the main characters and their acrobatic lovemaking.
I had to admit, my heart felt all gooey that he called it “our” book.
“Maybe it’s just a proportion thing,” he decided, looking at me. “Get over here.”
“I am not doing that,” I insisted, my smile spreading.
“Come on. For science,” he demanded, lifting the tray to set it on the dresser, then pulling me over to the bed.
“I don’t think this counts as science,” I told him as he picked up the book and started to scan the scene again.
“Sure it does. This author claims I can bend a woman’s body this way. It is our responsibility to test this theory. I thought so,” he said, nodding at the page, then tossing the book back on the bed.
His hands were on my hips then, turning me.
“I need you to stand on the bed. Now, granted, the book says headboard here, but the footboard works roughly the same way,” he told me as I went ahead and stood on the bed.
“Okay,” I agreed, already smiling. Everything with Sully, I had found over the past week or so, was fun.
“Now, it says that her one foot is on the headboard.”
“Okay,” I agreed, sticking one of my feet on the footboard. “Now what?”
“Now, it says that the other foot is on the mattress.”
“Where else would it be?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at him.
“Don’t get smart with me, young lady,” he said, landing a playful slap on my butt. “Now, it says she is looking at him while he’s going down on her. How does one do that from this position? Can you lean down and see me?”
“I mean, yeah?” I said, going ahead and hinging at the waist, looking between my legs at him. “But I’m pretty sure this isn’t what the author meant.”
“How else could she mean it?” he asked, unable to help himself but to trace the outline of my panties.
I’d gotten to a level of comfort around the clubhouse that I didn’t think was possible. I even left the bedroom in nothing but one of Sully’s long shirts and underwear. It was not something I ever would have done before. But I had to admit, I loved being seconds away from naked around Sully.
“Like this,” I said, flopping down onto the mattress. I lifted one of my legs and pushed it against the footboard. “One leg up, one down. And I can look down.”
“Yes, yes, you can,” he said, the intention already clear in his eyes.
I didn’t even get a minute to prepare.
Because he was right there between my thighs, yanking my panties to the side and running his tongue up my cleft toward my clit.
All thoughts flew out of my mind as he worked me with his tongue and his fingers until I was arching off the bed, until my thighs were shaking, and my little whimpers became needy moans.
Only then was he kneeling on the bed, watching me as he slid on protection, then yanked my hips up onto his lap, and surged inside me.
There was nothing then, save for the movements of our bodies, the way he knew when to push harder, faster, deeper, or when to pull back, when to work my clit, and when it was too sensitive.
Until the orgasm was soaring through me.
He came with me, leaving us both panting for breath and ravenous when we eventually broke apart to get to our cold breakfast.
“Two orgasms is a shitty way to start the morning,” Sully declared, making me almost snort my coffee through my nose.
“I think our definitions of shitty mornings are very different,” I told him.
“We both know I could do better. But I got a text while you were getting the food.”
“From who?”
“Chris.”
“At Hailstorm?” I asked, the haze of the orgasms clearing away.
It had been two full days since I’d heard anything about Hailstorm or, well, anything at all that didn’t involve sex, food, books, or crafts.
Sully had been “holed up healing,” if his brothers asked. In reality, we’d been doing nothing but having sex, eating, and enjoying each other’s company.
And for those blissful forty-eight hours, there was nothing else. No shadowy bad guys wanting to kill us. No paramilitary camp on the hill digging into Sully’s past. Nothing. Just us.
I tamped down the disappointment that it was over now. It was inevitable. And I figured that once they found out who this guy was, Sully and I could go back to enjoying each other. Maybe even more so, because we would be able to leave the clubhouse to do all the things he kept telling me he was going to introduce me to. Things that filled me with an equal mix of excitement and anxiety. Karaoke, line dancing, target practice at the range, ax throwing… the list was endless. A whole world Sully wanted to show me.
“Yeah. She said her team is ready to show us what they scrounged up. She wants us to head up today.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?” I asked, glancing at his shoulder.
“Baby, I’ve fucked you about fifty different ways in two days. Think a little car ride up to Hailstorm is a cakewalk after that.”
“That’s fair,” I admitted. “You sure you want to bring me?”
“That’s a silly question,” he said. Then, knowing me too well, he added, “Of course I want you to come. I need to show you the playground. Of course, they insist on calling it an ‘aerial obstacle course,’ but I know a playground when I see one.”
“You can’t go on the playground,” I reminded him. “We’ve already taken too many risks with your shoulder.”
“It’s already scabbed,” he reminded me. “Well on my way to healing.”
“How long is it going to take?” I asked, knowing I wouldn’t stop worrying until then.
“Three weeks, give or take. Why? Have some super acrobatic sex planned for me then? ‘Cause I have some ideas.”
“I bet you do,” I agreed, loving that we were talking so casually about the future. True, it was only a few weeks. But still. I felt a lot more comfortable with our budding relationship now that I knew he planned to keep up with me for a while. There were no guarantees in life, of course. Something could happen at any point to end this. But I felt a lot more secure knowing that he was at least interested in the long run.
“What time are we leaving?” I asked.
“Figure an hour or so. Gives us time to shower after this. Round up a couple of the guys. Then head out.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t super nervous about leaving the clubhouse. But I also knew that staying holed up because I was afraid of something would only make it easier to stop leaving the house again in the future. Until, eventually, I wouldn’t be able to at all. I’d struggled with a bout of agoraphobia over the summer break once in high school. It had taken weeks to force myself back out of the house. And even then, I suffered ceaseless panic attacks for another few weeks until, slowly but surely, the exposure therapy worked and I could go out again.
Besides, if I was going to go out, a trip to a place as heavily guarded as Hailstorm seemed like the safest possible option.
Plus… dogs.
“Where is Zima?” I asked, looking at my last sausage link, wanting to give it to her.
“She snuck out after you,” he said. “Someone probably let her out to go chase that poor fat squirrel again.”
“He really is fat,” I agreed.
“He can’t fit through the fence anymore,” Sully said, smiling. “I think Perish is feeding him peanuts.”
“Really?” I asked, imagining the giant sneaking out to feed the squirrel when his club brothers couldn’t see him being all cute. “Why?”
“Because he did the shopping last. And there was a bag of peanuts in the shell, no salt. What kind of psychopath would eat unsalted, in-shell peanuts? It’s gotta be for the wildlife.”
I couldn’t fault his logic. And I had to admit that the idea of Perish not only bringing the peanuts to a squirrel, but remembering to buy them, was really adorable.
“What’s his issue with the grass?” I asked, getting up to scrounge up some cloths for the day.
“You noticed that, huh? You should fucking see him in the spring. The man launches a full-scale war against the dandelions. He goes out with a knife and digs them out.”
“Was he in lawn care or something before the club?”
“I think it’s more likely that he never had a yard in his life before. Can’t imagine what a bear he’ll be when he actually owns a house someday.”
We didn’t exactly have much talking to do after that, since clothes got peeled off, and we were in the shower running soapy hands all over each other until, well, the inevitable happened. Again. And he went ahead and made up for the lack of orgasms before, schedule be damned.
I was still feeling a little post-orgasm contented when we climbed in the back of the SUV. I was flanked on both sides—one, with Sully and the other side with Nave. In the front, Dezi and Valen were with us. Since Courtney insisted that the twins go to work with her. And Fallon had insisted Perish join them as well.
“Wow, it’s bigger than I realized,” I said as the car climbed the hill toward Hailstorm.
“They’ve done a lot of expanding over the years,” Nave said. “It used to be strictly made out of shipping containers. Which are pretty good against handguns, but rifles could pretty easily penetrate the steel. Chris has put a lot of time and money into either reinforcing the walls with sandbags for the containers she wanted to keep, but also building new buildings that are reinforced concrete with rebar. Can withstand most shit.”
“Nine-inch walls,” Dezi confirmed.
“That’s where the girls and the kids have been hanging out,” Valen added.
Oh, right.
I forgot that the other women had been hiding out too. Would they all be hanging out when we got there? I wouldn’t mind seeing Layna, Luna, and Gracie again. And meeting the others. Sully had nothing but nice things to say about them.
As we drew closer, the dogs casually walking the grounds came trotting forward toward the gates, barking, alerting anyone who may not have been paying attention. Though everyone had already clocked us a while ago.
Men and women milled around, automatic rifles strapped to their chests, eyes on the roads, the woods, the skies. I was almost about to comment on how that level of hyper-vigilance must be exhausting. Until I remembered how much I, myself, operated from a place of hyper-vigilance.
“Sully has a meeting with Chris,” Valen told the guard at the station.
“And that thing has ballistic glass,” Dezi explained, nodding his chin toward the box the guard sat in that reminded me a lot of those little boxes cashiers stood in at outdoor garden centers.
“I think he’s trying to make you feel secure,” Sully said, reaching to give my hand a squeeze.
“I’m pretty sure there’s nowhere safer in the whole state,” I declared as the gates slid open and the car rolled through.
We barely got a chance to get out of the car before a man—tall, long-legged, handsome, with dark brown hair and warm brown eyes—came striding toward us with a certain air of authority.
“Sully,” he greeted, offering his hand to Sully. “Fischer,” he introduced himself.
“Fisch, this is Bonnie,” he introduced me. “And Nave, Dezi, and Valen.”
“Oh, hello,” I cooed as a dog ventured closer, sensing there was no danger. “Is he friendly?” I asked, looking at Fischer.
“She is,” Fischer confirmed. “And a real ham,” he added as the pittie whacked her big, square head against my leg, begging for attention.
“Oh, Zima is going to hate me for this,” I told her as I dropped down to rub her head with both my hands. “But it’s worth it, right?” I asked as her leg tapped hard against the ground.
“I’m gonna go find my woman,” Valen said, giving us all a wave as he headed away.
“Think they are serving lunch yet?” Dezi asked, jogging to catch up with Valen.
“I’ve got no one to see,” Nave said. “Mind if I check out the grounds? I haven’t been here since I was a kid. Wanna see what’s different.”
“The chickens,” Fischer said. “Got a shitload of chickens now. And a goose to protect them. But he mostly just chases people around and bites them on the ass.”
A laugh escaped me at that. “The dogs don’t bother them?” I asked.
“Some of the dogs are better than others when it comes to the chickens. Hence the chicken tunnels,” he said, gesturing toward the fence. I looked, noticing something I’d missed earlier. Along the entire fence was a small tunnel of heavy-duty curved wire, creating a safe little area for the chickens to walk around eating bugs and pecking at greens, without being bothered by the dogs. “Leads all the way back to a giant covered run over that way,” he said, pointing toward a back corner of the yard.
“Mind if I show her?” Sully asked, nodding his head toward me.
“No. Actually, Chris got hung up on a last-minute emergency call. That’s why you got me instead of her. I can show you guys around until she’s ready for you.”
“Wanna go see the chickens?”
“Depends,” I said, my stomach tensing.
“On what?” Fischer asked, brows pinching.
“Do you guys… process them?” I asked.
“Process? As in butcher?” Fischer asked. “Fuck no. Christ, fucking Astrid would skin me and serve me for dinner before she’d let us eat one of her birds,” Fischer said with a big smile, all white teeth. “No, they’re just for eggs. And pest control. You a vegetarian?” he asked.
“No. But… I had neighbors when I was a kid. And they got all these adorable chicks one spring. I used to sneak over a bunch of times a day to play with them and love on them. And then one day, I went over and they were…” I trailed off, shaking my head, trying to get rid of the memory.
Sully’s hand went to my back, rubbing, as Fischer’s gaze went soft. “No worries. You can fall in love with these ones as much as you want. They will live here until they are geriatric old ladies who are just freeloading because they don’t lay eggs anymore.”
With that, we started off toward the chicken coop. Though, ‘coop’ was too ungenerous of a word for it. The place was practically a chicken spa. They had swings, perches, piles of leaves to dig in, metal balls full of fresh veggies, a small waterfall, and even toys. I didn’t even know chickens liked toys. But even as we watched, one of the hens walked up to a xylophone and pecked at it with her beak, making a little chicken song.
“Got somewhere I can bunk up in here?” Nave asked, standing in the middle of the covered run with a giant black chicken tucked under his arm.
“Yeah, they live the good life, that’s for sure,” Fischer said as a tiny chicken with a poof of feathers around its head pecked at his laces.
“Any chance I can show Bonnie the play—obstacle course?” Sully asked when we all walked out of the chicken run, pausing to use some hand sanitizer that was attached to the door.
“Yeah, of course,” Fischer said, heading in that direction, staying a few feet ahead of us with his long stride. “I heard you got shot,” he said.
“Shoulder,” Sully confirmed.
“Right. I would be remiss not to advise you against going up with an injury,” Fischer said. “Though I also know enough men like you to know that my advice won’t mean shit.”
“Oh, oh, no.” The words just burst out of me when we rounded the back of the building and the course in question came into view.
“You said you’re not afraid of heights,” Sully said, rocking back on his heels as he looked up at the obstacle course in the skies.
It was a massive thing, built in the actual trees, but also to manmade structures where there weren’t enough trees to attach to. There were platforms, rope walls, rock walls, zip lines, and bridges made of various materials from old tires to thin, uneven boards.
“Heights, no. Plummeting to my death… Somewhat,” I admitted, getting a laugh out of both men.
“See all that netting, darlin’?” Fischer asked, gesturing toward the heavy-duty netting that lined the entire aerial course.
“Yeah.”
“That will not let you plummet to your death. Though, it gives you one fuck of a rush to fall down and onto it. And if you get up there, there are some fun surprises to check out.”
“You gotta try it,” Sully said.
“Maybe next time. You can’t go up there,” I told him, looking at his shoulder.
“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to use me as an excuse. I’m going.”
“No, I…”
“I can go up,” Fischer offered. “I’m not your man, but I’ve talked many a terrified man, woman, and child through this course.”
Adrenaline surged through me, making me immediately feel shaky.
But, God, I didn’t want to always give in to that panic anymore. Sully had been showing me how many good things are on the other side of that anxiety.
“Between me and you,” Fischer said, leaning a little closer, “your mind can’t tell the difference between fear and excitement. Just tell yourself you’re excited as fuck about it.”
Then, without another word, he made his way toward the ladder that led up under the net.
“You’re a badass who drove out of an active shooter scene,” Sully reminded me. “You got this.”
I really, really didn’t think I did.
But I was going to at least try.
If I had a panic attack and needed to be carried out of there by Fischer, so be it.
The ladder was fine.
Even climbing across the first, thick bridge was alright. It wasn’t until we got to the tire bridge that panic had my belly sloshing around.
Fischer, seeming to sense my hesitation, turned back halfway across the tires, standing there without even holding onto the rope railings.
“If it helps, you might be a small girl, but I’m pretty sure you can’t slip through the tire holes,” he said.
“That’s… not really helping,” I admitted, but a little laugh escaped me anyway.
“So, how’d you meet Sully?” he asked as I pressed a foot toward the first tire, feeling the way it made the whole bridge shift to the side under the weight.
I gripped the ropes until they burned into my palms. “I had a bomb strapped to my chest,” I said, putting more weight onto my foot, then pulling the other over as well. “He disarmed it.”
“Been a happily-ever-after since?” Fischer asked.
The whole bridge swayed hard enough for my belly to keep bottoming out. But when I looked up, I was already standing right in front of Fischer.
“Told you you could do it,” he said before turning and stepping onto the platform. “From here, we go across,” he said, grabbing the handlebar for the zipline. “Remember these from when you were a kid?”
“I don’t recall them being this long,” I admitted. I wasn’t sure I could even see the end. “Where does this go?”
Fischer coaxed me over until my hands grabbed.
“The surprise is half the fun,” he said. Then, as soon as I was holding it hard enough… he shoved me.
I didn’t even recognize the scream that escaped me then.
But the crazy thing was… Fischer was right.
The fear quickly morphed into excitement as the world whirred around me, as my belly kept dropping out as the line zipped faster and faster on the slight descent.
I was smiling by the time it suddenly dropped off, taking a nearly vertical fall that made it impossible to keep holding on.
The fall was inevitable.
As was the scream that escaped me.
But when I landed in the embrace of the thick safety rope, I was grinning up at the sky as my heart hammered in my chest and the blood raced through my veins.
“Badass, I told you,” Sully called from beneath me, making me roll over onto my stomach to look down at him.
“I don’t know if Fallon agreed to this yet,” I called down to him. “But you absolutely have to build this at the clubhouse.”
Fischer helped me back up out of the net, and we finished the course, leaving me feeling exhilarated, accomplished, and so freaking sore that each step back toward the front of the compound felt like a challenge.
Sully slung an arm over my shoulders, hauling me up against him as we walked.
“So fucking proud of you, baby,” he said with a quick kiss to my temple, his words making my heart squeeze in my chest.
There was no more talking then as we finally entered Hailstorm.
It was a real labyrinth inside, parts of it disorienting at times because there were no windows or signs telling you where you were going.
Fischer would occasionally toss out a little factoid about a room we were passing, but for the most part, we walked in silence until we seemed to reach the innermost part of the building.
The claustrophobic feeling immediately eased as we stepped into a large, open, octagonal space with a ton of overhead lighting to brighten it.
Desks sat around the outside of the room, no fewer than a dozen people hard at work on… whatever they even did at this place.
That was a question to ask some other time, I decided, as a pretty blonde woman approached Sully, hand outstretched.
“Chris,” he greeted her.
I was given a quick introduction, but then the two of them quickly slipped into an intense conversation about Sully’s past, leaving me a bit left out.
“Fisch, man, we gotta talk about phys. ed,” a guy said, walking up to Fischer, who was standing next to me. He was tall and just shy of gaunt, with brown hair stuck up at all different angles like he’d just climbed out of bed, and dark blue eyes.
“Man, for the hundredth time. This ain’t high school. We don’t have physical education. We have drills,” Fischer said, tone frustrated, but there was a smile tugging at his lips.
“Well, I think I should be excused,” the younger guy said, nodding.
“For what reason?”
“Moral objections.”
“Moral objections… to exercise?” Fischer asked.
“Precisely,” the younger guy said, making Fischer battle with his face to try to keep from smiling. “Oh, hi. I’m Cain. Cain Brewster,” he said, smiling at me.
“Oh, hi. I’m Bonnie. Bonnie Clewski.”
“What?” Sully’s voice barked, making my blood go cold as ice slid down my spine.
He moved away from Chris, stalked back toward me, his eyes so intense that I almost went back a step.
But this was Sully.
He wasn’t going to hurt me.
“What did you just say?” he asked. A muscle ticked in his jaw, it was so tight.
“Just… my name,” I said, hating how small my voice sounded.
“The fuck is your problem?” Fischer asked, stepping halfway between me and Sully.
“What is your last name?” Sully asked. And, to his credit, he was trying to make his voice calmer.
“Clewski,” I told him. “I know. It’s a silly one,” I added, trying to lighten the mood.
“Clewski,” Sully repeated. “You got a cousin named David?” he asked, and now my belly was twisting like a wrung-out dishcloth.
“No. I had a brother named David.”
“David Clewski is your brother .”
“Was,” I clarified. “David died.”
“I know,” Sully said, eyes unfathomable depths, making another chill move through me. “I was there.”