Chapter 9
Fiona
Dinner at Guard and Cece’s was an eye-opening event.
I loved hearing stories about Bash and Charlie as kids, and it was warming to see the easy camaraderie between all of them.
Guard and Cece were a fascinating couple.
I didn’t think many people would have considered them a classic match.
Guard was loud and brash with no filter.
Cece was sharp. She didn’t talk nearly as much as her husband, but when she did, she got right to the point.
There was a quietness about her, her calm demeanor almost a direct contrast to the hurricane that was Guard.
Over a boisterous meal, I learned about how Bash had earned his nickname, the time Charlie tried to give herself bangs and wound up with a bowl cut, as well as some of the MC logistics.
I was shocked at the family’s insistence I go to the clubhouse, but couldn’t pretend like there wasn’t a part of me that was dying to go.
I was fascinated. I had so many ideas and questions, but there was a part of me that was scared.
I had a hard time adapting to new situations and surroundings.
Don’t even get me started on big group events with drinking.
They were anxiety-inducing to me. Definitely not my scene.
I always felt uncomfortable and unsure in those situations, desperate for a quiet corner to escape to.
Charlie must have realized that when she invited me to come.
Somehow, I didn’t imagine a Sunday afternoon would have the clubhouse packed with people.
After dessert and coffee, where the entire table devoured the cake I brought, Bash announced it was time to take me home.
The rest of the Williams family exchanged a look, but before I could analyze it too much, Bash was hustling me out of the house.
The ride felt tense, enclosed in a dark space, just the two of us.
It felt like there was an invisible current pulling me toward him, my body subconsciously swaying in his direction. Snapping myself upright, I then hyperfocused on what to do with my hands. Unsure what to say or do, I found myself sitting silently for most of the ride.
When we pulled into a parking spot, a sigh of relief ran through me. The anxiety had ratcheted up on the short drive, and I was desperate to escape into my apartment to decompress.
Before I had my seat belt off, Bash’s large hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pulling me toward him. Shock ran through me as his lips covered mine, but within seconds, I was melting into him. That kiss felt different than the ones before, more urgent, with a tinge of desperation.
My hands slid up his chest on their own accord as he pulled me so I was leaning over the center console. His hands dropped, and we pulled apart. I watched as he reached down to slide his seat back. Before I was too far away, he reached over and lifted me onto his lap with barely any effort.
I was too shocked by the sudden change in position to really process anything, but as soon as Bash pulled me down to him, I lost myself in him.
I had never been that close to a man before.
Our bodies were touching everywhere, and I felt completely surrounded by him.
With a hand in my hair and one on my back, he clutched me to him, equally as fervent.
He nipped at my lip, then soothed it with his tongue before ripping his mouth from mine, only to trail his lips down my neck. Instinctively, I tilted my head to the side to give him better access. My breathing sped up, and unfamiliar feelings started running through me.
I want his shirt off. I want to feel his skin on mine. I want time and space to explore every inch of him. That thought had me pulling back, coming back to reality with a harsh landing. Before I could get too far away, Bash’s hand tightened on my neck, forcing me to look at him.
“What’s going through that head of yours, pretty girl?” he asked, searching my face.
For some reason, the question made me want to cry.
I was overwhelmed, confused, aroused, and most upsettingly, hopeful.
This felt like something big. Surrounded by Bash, I felt like a different person—someone carefree and hedonistic.
All of the dreams I had shut down for myself, locked away because I thought they weren’t meant for me, were trying to break through.
The prospect of a meaningful relationship, of belonging to someone, was a fire running through my veins, only to be iced out by the fear that it might mean nothing to Bash.
That I had fallen into the cliché of developing feelings he couldn’t return.
Mustering all the courage I had, I decided to be bold.
“What’s happening here, Bash? What is it you want from me?” I asked, knowing the discomfort of the conversation would save me endless nights of dissecting everything that was never said.
“Everything. I want everything from you, Fiona,” he said, shocking me. Gently, he cupped my face as he continued.
“Tell me what you’re worried about. Let’s get it all out now. We can take this as fast or as slow as you need. You’re in charge.”
Frustrated and still on the verge of tears, I surprised us both when I blurted out, “I don’t know what this is!
I’m worried about all of it. You’re so far out of my league, Bash.
I have no idea how to be what you need. I feel crazy for saying that because I don’t even know if you’re talking about a relationship or just looking for sex.
Neither of which I’m a good candidate for, if you haven’t realized! ” I yelled.
My heart was ramming against my chest, and since I was still seated in Bash’s lap, looking at his beautiful face was actually becoming painful.
I tried to slide back, put some distance between us, but he wasn’t having any of it.
Pulling me until I was tight against him, pressed together from the thighs up, he finally spoke.
“Bear with me, darlin’. This is also out of my comfort zone.
I want you, in every way. Mostly, though, I just want the chance to spend time with you.
When I’m with you, I feel lighter, and the idea of never kissing you again, not being able to touch you whenever the feeling arises, seems impossible to me.
I’m not an expert on relationships, and I haven’t been a saint, but I can promise you I haven’t touched a woman since that first night I met you.
“If you agree to go down this road with me, I vow that I never will. You are all I want, all I think about. I want to take you out, feel you pressed against me on the back of my bike, wake up with you in my arms. I can’t promise it will be smooth or easy, but I know I would regret not giving it a go.
So, I guess what I’m asking is, will you go on a date with me? ”
All I could do was nod. A smile broke out across Bash’s face, transforming it.
There were small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and one side of his mouth hitched up a bit higher than the other.
He was already breathtaking, but something about that smile felt different, private, something just for me.
Without thinking, I reached out, running my fingers over his lips before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his mouth.
When I went to pull away, he locked his arms around me, holding me close to him and taking over the kiss until it turned into something much headier.
With a harsh groan, he locked his arms around me as he buried his face in the crook of my neck.
“Alright, let’s get you upstairs,” he said, his voice lower than usual.
Before I could wonder how I was going to detangle my limbs from his, Bash was opening the driver’s door and lifting both of us out in one fluid move. He carefully lowered me until my feet hit the ground, then, with his arm around my shoulders, we headed up to my apartment.
Once I had the door unlocked, I turned to say goodbye, only to have Bash pull me in for one last kiss. This time, I was the one who needed a break, out of breath, mind and body turning to mush.
“I know you and Charlie have plans for tomorrow, but can you text me to keep me updated on how you’re doing? A prospect will be with you, but regardless, let me know you’re okay and when you’re on your way to the clubhouse.”
“Okay,” I answered meekly. There were so many thoughts and questions running through my head that I needed to process, and I couldn’t do that with his annoyingly handsome smile right in my face.
“Lock up after me, baby,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead.
It took me a minute to realize he was standing in the hallway, waiting for me to close the door. When I did manage movement, it had a bit of a slam to it as I unintentionally rushed to close and lock the door.
As I slid between my bedsheets, I finally let myself think about Bash.
I believed him, everything he said. He didn’t promise me his undying devotion or an engagement ring.
What he promised was worth so much more: honesty and a chance to explore the feelings between us.
Feelings I could no longer ignore. Sighing, I knew the conversation with Charlie would not go as smoothly as the one I had with Bash.
I drifted to sleep, once again comforted by memories of his arms around me.
Charlie picked me up early the next morning, and any anxiety I might have felt at the prospect of going to the club was lost in the whirlwind that she was.
Right from the start, she was talking a mile a minute as she drove us to the local mall.
During our pedicures, as I was trying to hold still despite how ticklish my feet were, Charlie finally brought up the elephant in the room.
“So Bash asked you out?” she asked, and I looked at her, trying to read her emotions. She didn’t look angry. She looked almost hopeful. So I nodded quickly.
“Is that okay with you?” I asked, suddenly terrified that she might say it wasn’t.