8
S weet mother of mercy.
I was joking when I said I didn’t want to hear them fucking all night, because I thought surely it wasn’t possible.
I’m wrong.
It most certainly is possible.
It’s three in the morning, and all I have heard on and off for the last fucking four hours are Esmerelda’s moans of pleasure. I have absolutely no idea what he’s doing to her in there, but it’s clear he’s a one woman biker because she is the only one I’ve seen him with. Was she right, is he going to make her his Old Lady?
Frustrated, I push out of bed and storm out of the dorm.
To my surprise, there are still bikers milling around drinking.
Do they not sleep?
Ignoring their stares, I walk right over to Wolfe’s door and begin banging on it, over and over, without ceasing even for a second, until he opens it. When he does, he’s naked as the day he was born and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. My eyes widen, and my cheeks immediately heat. For a man I’ve never slept with, I think I’ve seen his dick enough times to almost be familiar with it.
“Look, buddy, I get it, you like your dick, but can you tell your woman in there that we all know she’s enjoying it and it’s really fucking annoying?”
A slow grin spreads across his face.
I can smell alcohol on him when he steps closer, and there is a glassiness to his eyes that tells me he’s had a good night, with possibly more than alcohol. Is that why he’s in there fucking like a god damned horny rabbit?
“Jealous, Kitten?”
“No, biker. I’m tired. And she’s noisy. There is no way that you’re that damn good.”
He leans down closer, keeping the grin. “If I recall, I had you moaning in less than two minutes.”
I want to slap him.
“If I recall, Jace had already warmed me up and done most of the hard work for you. It doesn’t count.”
His eyes move down my body, past the oversized tee I’m wearing and right to my legs. “Sweet fuckin’ get up.”
Oh man.
“Who is it, baby?” Esme calls.
“Be there soon,” he calls back, not once moving his eyes off me.
“Does your girlfriend know you had your fingers in me only days ago?”
He reaches out, taking my chin with a curved pointer finger and tipping my head back. “She ain’t my girlfriend. I fuck who I want.”
“I think you should tell her that.”
“She knows.”
“Well, either way,” I say, stepping back so he is forced to drop his hand. “Can you keep it down?”
“I’m startin’ to think you’re more interested in my dick than she is.”
Here we go.
“In your dreams, my friend. If I want dick, I’ll get it, I don’t need to chase after a biker to do it.”
He runs a hand down his sweat slicked belly, and it takes everything inside me not to stare down as his dick. He has no shame, none at all. He’s standing here, in the open door, not a care in the world about who can see him naked.
“If I offered it, you’d take it.”
The arrogance.
I snort. “Believe me, I wouldn’t.”
He steps closer, hooking an arm around my waist and hauling me against him. His cock presses into my belly, and I gasp, the words sucked right out of my mouth when he looks down at me, his hard, sweat slicked body molding against mine. “We’ll see. I can guarantee that if I wanted you, you would lay down for me and spread those pretty legs, begging me to take you.”
“God you’re full of yourself. I wouldn’t even if you paid me.”
He licks his bottom lip, grinning. “Challenge accepted.”
“I thought you said you’d never touch me, even if I wanted it.”
“I don’t have to touch you to get you to beg for me.”
With that, he releases me.
“Goodnight, Kitten.”
Argh.
This infuriating man.
He’s getting under my skin, no matter how hard I am trying to keep him out.
“Keep it down!” I call after him, as he takes hold of the door.
He flips me the bird, and my eyes can’t help but zone in on that perfect, muscled ass.
Dammit.
“Sweet dreams to you, too,” I mutter, turning away when the door closes.
I can’t deny the ache in my body, mostly between my legs.
Tomorrow, I decide, is the day I’m going to ease this ache. I’m going to find someone, maybe one of these gorgeous bikers, and I’m going to deal with this problem. Then, just maybe, I can focus on the task at hand instead of thinking about the arrogant, gorgeous, stubborn, pain in my ass next door.
Yeah, I’ll do that.
It’s not slutty, right?
FINALLY MANAGING TO sleep, I stay in that room until around ten the next morning. By the time I wake, the sun is well and truly blasting through the window, and my body aches as I push out of bed, really not wanting to get up but knowing I have no choice if I want to finish what I started here.
Groaning, I mutter a curse as I take a towel and groggily gather some clothes for the day. I’m not looking forward to borrowing a shower, but I can’t go another day without one. Zane told me there is one in the main bar area, and that if I lock the door, I should be okay. I’m going to risk it.
Walking out of the room, the sun burns my eyes as I shield them, rushing toward the main living portion. Stepping inside, I come to a stop when I see everyone gathered around the large communal television. I’m not certain what they’re watching, so I move a bit closer, noticing Wolfe standing to my left, his arms crossed.
His eyes swing to me and widen slightly, but I’m too focused on the words coming from the screen before me. Someone moves enough for me to see what’s on the screen, and when I do, I flinch. It’s a harsh jerk of my body as the world around me seems to stop spinning.
My father is on the screen, chained up, wearing a green prison jumpsuit, three officers behind him as a woman speaks to him. She’s a reporter, clearly, and somehow, she has managed to get a prisoner on television. That isn’t what shocks me, though, it’s the fact that I have done everything in my power not to lay eyes on my father since that fateful night.
This is the first time I have seen him since then, and it feels like acid running through my veins.
Gone is the strong, well-built man that I once knew. In his place, is this gaunt, drawn-out person I almost don’t recognize. The dull blue eyes and the dark red hair stand out against his pale skin. His eyes are empty, and as he stares at the reporter, I would almost say it was a stranger before me.
I don’t know that man.
My chest tightens, and I struggle to breathe as I stare, transfixed.
“Mr. Sloane, everyone is talking about a copycat killer, or someone wanting revenge on your daughter, do you have anything to say about that?”
“My daughter is innocent. I don’t know anything else.”
His voice, husky and dull, is so familiar that it burns.
How could he do something so horrible to those women?
I just don’t understand.
I don’t realize that I’ve made a loud sound until Kael turns, his eyes narrowing with concern as my hand flies to my chest. Shaking my head, I turn and shove my way out, unable to breathe. I knew seeing him would shock me, but I didn’t expect it to feel like this.
It’s as if everything I’ve ever known has been thrown right out into the open, a hammer to the face, something I can’t avoid. I’ve lived hidden from him for so long that I don’t know how to process seeing him. I don’t know what to feel. It almost makes everything I know seem unbelievable. I can’t see a monster in that man.
And that’s exactly what I feared.
That the man I grew up loving would shine through, and I wouldn’t be able to see past it.
What is wrong with me?
Falling to my knees, I gasp, desperate for air. I can’t get any, even though I’m frantically trying. My head spins, and my heart races, sweat trickling down my forehead as I fight to keep conscious.
“Up.”
The voice belongs to Wolfe, and I don’t get a chance to fight him or even say a single word before he is pulling me up to my feet. I stumble, not getting near enough oxygen to my brain, and I fear I’m going to faint soon.
“I can’t breathe. Wolfe, I can’t breathe.”
“I know.”
He takes me to the closest thing – his bike.
I don’t know how he gets me on it, but, somehow, I find myself with my legs either side, my bottom on the seat, facing the front. Wolfe gets on, only he isn’t facing the handlebars, he is facing me. We are sitting, face to face, on his bike. Reaching out, he takes my chin in his hand and tips my head back.
I’m gasping now, my entire body trembling.
“Need you to look at me, Mera. Right here.”
He points to his eyes, and I attempt to do as he asks, focusing on his face.
“Breathe. I know it feels like you can’t, but you can. Even if it’s just a little bit, I need you to try, yeah?”
I nod, my entire body trembling.
Attempting to suck in a breath, it feels as though it gets trapped in my throat, and I only begin panicking more. My head spins so intensely I fall forward, my forehead slamming against his chest. Instead of pushing me back, he holds me there by putting his hand on the back of my head.
“Keep tryin’, I got you.”
I do as he asks, closing my eyes, tears dripping onto the seat as I slowly try to get my breath a little farther than last time.
“When you breathe out, breathe out with everything you have, put your entire body into it.”
I do.
Breathing in, I exhale as dramatically as I can, letting my entire body sink farther into him. He smells like leather, and man, and a cologne that is so fucking incredible it takes my mind off the panic attack for a small second. Then, I notice his fingers on my head, slowly rubbing through my hair.
He’s comforting me.
Wolfe is comforting me.
It’s enough of a distraction that I’m able to get in a deeper breath, then another, and another, until the panic eases just a little. Wolfe doesn’t move me, he just lets me sit there like I am, until I’m physically able to push myself back into a seated position. When I do, my hair is a mess, sticking to my tear-streaked face, and I know I look like a hot mess.
“Want to tell me what happened in there?”
I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.
Such an attractive moment.
“I haven’t seen him since the night he got arrested,” I croak.
Wolfe’s brows go up. “All these years, you never followed the trial? Never seen what happened to him?”
I shake my head. “I did everything in my power to avoid it. If I saw him on a newspaper cover, or on the television, I would get the hell out. Eventually, his face stopped showing, and I was happy with that.”
“That’s rough.”
Indeed, it is.
“Can I tell you what the worst part is?”
He nods, pulling a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lighting it, inhaling deeply then exhaling. Here we are, just sitting face to face on his bike, like a couple of old friends. It pings something deep in my chest, a feeling that frightens me. I’m scared of that feeling, because if it grows, I’m in deep shit.
“I still find it so hard to believe he could do it.”
Wolfe breathes the smoke out slowly. God he’s fucking gorgeous.
He offers me the cigarette, and I take it.
I’m not a smoker, but right now, I’ll make an exception.
I bring it to my lips, inhaling deep before slowly exhaling with a cough. God, that’s strong. I pass it back to him.
“Because he’s your old man?”
I shrug. “Because he never hurt me. He was always kind, always loving. He wasn’t very affectionate, sure, but he took care of me. Even seeing him on the screen, he looks so ... weak, frail, like how could he do what he did?”
“People can surprise you, and the shit that runs deep in a person’s brain can be darker than anything you could imagine. You were his child; it’s a different kind of love.”
“He brutally murdered women, and he did it without a care in the world.”
“Can’t know that,” he points out, taking another inhale.
“If he cared, he wouldn’t have kept doing it.”
Wolfe nods in agreeance. “See where you’re comin’ from, but also know that unless we know what was goin’ on in his brain, we can’t ever be sure.”
“It doesn’t make it right.”
“Never said it did.”
We fall silent.
“Ever thought of askin’ him why?”
I flinch. “I never want to see that man again.”
“Fair enough.”
He doesn’t push, and I’m glad, because that isn’t an argument I want to have.
“I guess I better get back to my shower. Thanks, for ... you know ... this.”
Wolfe nods again, his eyes so dark, so hooded, it’s hard for me to know what he’s thinking.
“You can shower in my room,” he offers, casually. “You don’t want to shower in the main area, trust me.”
Oh.
I don’t want to know.
“Are you sure?”
He throws his leg over the bike, climbing off. “You’re good.”
I think I’ll take him up on that offer.
“There you are.”
Esme’s voice cuts in between us, and Wolfe turns and glances at her striding toward us in her tiny shorts and tight tank with no bra. Her dark hair is flowing down around her shoulders, and I hate how damn gorgeous she is. No wonder he isn’t interested in me—compared to her, I’m nothing.
Why does that thought hurt?
I need to get it together.
Stopping in front of us, Esme gives me a scalding look. “Your dramas again, I see?”
I fight the urge to slap her.
“Nice to see you, Esmerelda. As always,” I mumble, climbing off the bike.
She steps up as close to Wolfe as he will allow, fluttering her lashes at him. “You were gone when I woke up this morning, baby, I had a special surprise for you.”
Jesus.
He stares down at her. “Business.”
She pouts. “We could finish up now, if you like.”
“I’m going to have that shower,” I mutter, stepping around them and hurrying off.
I don’t need to hear any more.
I just need to get this over and done with so I can get the hell out of here.
Before I catch feelings for a man who has made it very clear where I stand.
I can’t risk my heart like that.
It has been through enough.