Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
ATOMIC
I shouldn’t be surprised that Shawn made sure we had beds, clean sheets, and towels.
She really did a hell of a lot. Adam is easy to put into bed, especially since his new bed isn’t a car but a double-sized bed with a wooden headboard and footboard, but the most important part is that it has Paw Patrol sheets.
But our bed, it has linen sheets, and I thought I would hate them, but they feel fucking amazing. I’ve showered and am lying in bed watching the television I asked King to ensure was not only purchased but also set up upon my arrival.
Thankfully, my brothers took care of me in that aspect, the way they took care of Ryan with shit for the kitchen. I take a deep breath as I hear the shower turn off, signaling that Ryan is naked and wet.
My cock twitches at the thought of her sliding between these linen sheets, clean, sexy, and ready to be fucked.
Because I plan on fucking her tonight. I don’t know if it will be very satisfying for her because I feel like I’m going to nut just thinking about her, let alone actually being inside of her sweet body.
A few moments later, the bathroom door opens, and I watch as she walks toward me, wearing nothing but a pair of short shorts and a tank. Her tits sway beneath the thin top with each step she takes.
When she crawls into bed beside me, I flick the television off before I turn to face her. Ryan lies on her pillow, staring at the ceiling, her eyes searching for something, though I’m not sure what. Then she turns her head, and those eyes find mine.
She seems like she wants to tell me something, but I’m past talking. We’ve done that. I am goddamn talked out at this point. Reaching out, I wrap my arm around her and gently haul her beneath me.
I lower my head and touch my lips to hers in a gentle kiss. It’s just a brush, nothing too hard, because I know she’s still healing. Then my mouth travels down the column of her throat and to the edge of her tank.
“Grover,” she breathes.
Moving my mouth down, I open it and wrap my lips around her breast through her shirt, and I suck on her tit. She lifts her hands, tangling her fingers in the strands of my hair.
It’s fucking great, especially when her grip tightens and she arches her back to bring it closer to me, silently begging for more. I give it to her gladly, then I travel down her body to her belly. I grip the waistband of her shorts and tug them as far down as possible.
She’s not wearing any panties.
Fucking perfect.
Reaching down to the backs of her knees, I grip them tightly and spread her thighs wide, then push them up as far as they’ll go without hurting her before I bury my face in her sweet cunt. Fuck. I missed this, the sweet taste of her, the scent of her. Every single part of her.
Swirling my tongue around her clit, I lap her, then find her clit again. Ryan lifts her hips, meeting my tongue strokes as she searches for her release. She’s close, her fingers gripping my hair even tighter, causing my scalp to burn, but I welcome the sensation.
Moving closer, I use my knees to hold her thighs open for me. It doesn’t take her long, only a few more strokes of my tongue until she comes. It’s with a gasp, then a whimper. She’s trying to be quiet, and I hope that one day soon, she won’t have to hold back. Maybe we can party at the club.
That is the last thought I have before I feel her cum on my tongue and she lets out a long, satisfying moan. Then it’s my turn to moan. When her body twitches against my tongue, I know she’s come down from her release.
Crawling up her body, I wrap my arms around her and look into her eyes. My cock presses against her center as I watch her. Ryan lifts her hands, and they cup my cheeks as I sink inside of her cunt, inch by inch, taking my sweet fucking time to feel every fucking centimeter of her.
She gasps, her breath hitching as I slowly bury myself inside of her. I don’t look away from her, my gaze fixated on hers. She lifts her legs, wrapping them tightly around me. “I’m not hurting you?” I ask.
“No,” Ryan breathes. “You’re not hurting me.”
Slowly, I move inside of her. I want her to come again, but honest to fuck, I’m not sure how long I can hold back.
I already want to come, and I’ve only been inside of her for a few seconds.
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a smile playing on her lips as my hips thrust as I move in and out of her with a controlled pace that will make it last a few seconds longer than it would if I just lost myself to her body.
“Grover,” she breathes. “You feel amazing.”
Rising to my knees, I look down at our connection. I’m stretching her, my cock barely fitting inside of her, and it’s fucking beautiful. I glisten with her wetness, and I wonder how the actual fuck I lived without this for six years.
That thought pisses me off, so my thrusts become harder and faster. She gasps as I fuck her. My heart races at the thought of her walking away from me again. Lying to me, stealing from me, fucking leaving me and never looking back. Not coming back until she needed something from me.
Fuck.
When I come, it’s with a growl, and it’s not lovely or beautiful. It’s full of anger. Pulling out of her immediately, I roll onto my back. I don’t reach for her. I don’t wrap my arms around her. In fact, I don’t say a goddamn word to her. I stare at the ceiling.
“Grover?” she calls out.
She shifts around in the bed, and I know she’s covering herself with the sheet. I don’t answer her. I need to let the anger dissipate before I say or do something really fucking stupid, and I am ready to do both right now.
“I don’t know what just happened.”
Turning my head, ice in my veins, I look at her. “You happened, Ryan. Fucking you.”
Without another word, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. I walk toward the bathroom, then close and lock the door behind me. Turning on the water, I wash my face and wait in there for a few moments, then turn it off and open the door.
The room is dark, and I can see her back to me in the bed. I grab my clothes from earlier off the floor, pull them on quickly, along with my boots, and I leave.
Walking out the front door of the house, I ensure that it’s locked up, then I send a text to a prospect to come and watch the place before I climb onto my bike and ride away.
I can’t stay here right now. I can’t see her right now.
I need to get away.
I need to breathe.
RYAN
My body aches but in a good way. My heart, though, aches in a very bad way.
I know where he’s gone. He’s fucked me, he’s gotten what he wanted, and now he’s going back to his men.
I knew this was what was going to happen.
When I left him the first time, I knew that if I stayed, this would be my life.
And here I am.
Exactly where I knew I would be.
I hate myself for this.
What I hate more is that he’s right. I lied. I walked away. I stole. And then I came back when I needed something from him. I take deep breaths as I try to keep from crying.
It doesn’t work.
I cry.
And I don’t sleep.
I lie awake, waiting, hoping he will find his way home. That he’ll realize I want him. I need him. I love him. But he doesn’t. And he probably shouldn’t because, at this point, I’m absolute garbage.
Pulling my shorts and tank back on, I go to the bathroom and clean up.
What I don’t do is look at my reflection in the mirror.
I don’t want to see myself, and this time, it has nothing to do with my bruises.
Then I search for the remote control to the television.
Glancing at my cell phone, I let out a heavy sigh at the time.
It’s three in the morning.
I flip through the channels and settle on an old episode of The Golden Girls, hoping it will take my mind off everything. And it works for a while. But I can’t help my thoughts as they drift toward Atomic.
Thoughts of the past swirl in my head. Thoughts of my lies.
Thoughts of his betrayals. Then of my own.
We are probably toxic. Maybe we shouldn’t be together.
Maybe I should just tell him the truth about Adam now.
That way, he’ll really hate me, and we can be done pretending…
or trying or whatever it is we’re doing.
My eyelids grow heavy just as Sophia is making a joke about Blanche being a slut. They’re sitting around the small breakfast table and eating cheesecake. It all seems so simple, and I wonder if I will ever have a life like that.
Laughs, cheesecake, and love.
I hope I do, but I’m not holding my breath.
It seems I’ve been dealt cards that make it nearly impossible to have anything easily. Then again, it’s not like I deserve it, either. I don’t. I’ve lied to the most important people in my life and kept things from them. I’m disgusting.
I’m jolted awake when I’m lifted into the air. Strong arms surround me, protect me, and hold me as they carry my body through the house. When I am lowered onto a soft mattress, I let out a sigh and open my eyes.
I expect to see Grover above me, but it’s not him. It’s Brew, his biological brother. “Welcome back, babe,” he murmurs.
“What are you doing here?” I ask with a hitch in my breath.
He grins as he sits on the mattress next to me. “Prospects were busy, so I came to keep an eye on you and the house. Saw you sleeping on the couch.”
“I’ve fucked everything up,” I whisper.
Brew snorts, shaking his head. “You haven’t. I mean, it’ll take a while for any of us to trust you, but you’ve been through hell, babe.”
I have been through hell, though I’m not sure I haven’t brought a lot of that on myself. If I had just stayed here, if I had just told Atomic what was happening, then maybe… just maybe… he would have continued cheating on me, and I would have looked like an idiot for eleven years instead of six.
So, they all may not trust me, but I don’t trust any of them either. They knew what he was doing. Hell, they watched him with those clubwhores, and nobody said a word. A true boys’ club. And I hated them all for it then and still do today.
Instead of telling him all of that, I give him a smile and dip my chin in a single nod. I don’t know what to say or how to say it, so instead, I clear my throat and lie down on the pillow, focusing on the ceiling above me.
It’s got that popcorn stuff, and I can’t help but wonder what it would look like painted a color other than white. Maybe a light gray or even black. I’m lost in thoughts about the ceiling when I hear Brew’s voice, and it shakes me out of my head.
“Hear I’ve got a nephew of sorts,” he murmurs.
“You do,” I whisper.
I’m thankful for the change of subject. I really don’t want to hash over the past again. And I want to avoid all the talk about my own past, mainly because I’m a big-ass liar. I don’t want to slip up and say anything that I know I shouldn’t.
“He’s five, and his name is Adam.”
Brew stares at me for a long, silent moment, then he clears his throat as he stands to his feet. I watch him as he begins to move around the room, pacing, really, and as I take him in, I realize for the first time that Adam has a lot of characteristics from him, too.
I’m surprised that I never saw it before now. They are a lot alike. A fresh wave of guilt slices through me. I’ve not just kept Adam away from his father, but his uncle, too. His whole family. My heart squeezes in my chest at the thought. I hate myself all over again.