Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
S car headed west. He had no destination in mind; Tally had been right that he just needed to get away. More than not being comfortable with the attention of his resurrection, he needed time with Tally. Without an audience, without expectations.
So much had changed. He felt like a new man in Tally’s arms, a man he could one day come to accept as himself. With Tally’s love and guidance, maybe he’d even be able to forgive himself someday. It was a pipe dream, and something Scar had never considered possible before holding her as she slept the night before.
She stopped the constant buzzing in his head and made it possible for him to relax. Who knew what else was or could be possible? His future, their future, held so much potential.
The hog he got from the club’s dealership was a Harley-Davidson Road King Special. Thankfully, he hadn’t needed to waste time having a sissy bar attached, as one was already installed on the black hog they’d had on the floor. What had taken him the longest was getting the saddlebags added. The crew that worked in the service department were not members of the club, but they all knew who Scar was.
None were pleased with Scar driving the new hog into the garage bay and demanding two saddlebags be added by pointing at them. Not only did it disrupt their schedule, but it had also scared one or two shitless.
Scar didn’t care. He might not be good at romancing her when it came to flowers and chocolates, and he would never be a conventional partner, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t show his affection and devotion to her in other ways. Giving her a place to store her things and the option to rest her back against a cushion was something simple he could do to ensure her comfort.
And he was twisted enough to get a bit of joy out of the crew members’ fear of him.
He was certainly sore from his ordeal and Tally’s arms and torso brushed up against certain patches of stitches, but just to ride with her at his back was such a freeing, weightless feeling that it was worth the ache.
The helmets Scar had gotten them synced together by Bluetooth so Tally could easily communicate to him. For a good part of the morning, she filled Scar in on what had happened to her from the moment he’d lost consciousness in her apartment.
The only unease he felt while listening to her was at the reminder that she knew how many bodies he’d dropped in Atlanta. But he shouldn’t have worried. Tally quickly assured him that he had done what he needed to do to protect Grayson and avenge her, and she didn’t blame him or judge him. If given the chance, she would have done the same.
They drove late into the afternoon, only stopping for lunch at a small Mom-and-Pop diner and to fill the gas tank. Scar would never store weapons in José’s house because of the kids. After he’d gotten his new hog from the club’s dealership, he’d also stopped by his stash of supplies he kept in Mount Grove. In one of his early days in Mount Grove, Scar had stumbled upon some drunken teenagers in a graveyard. He had no idea who they were or if there was a purpose behind them urinating on that specific gravestone, but Scar’s sudden appearance had caused them to run screaming with their pissing dicks still out of their pants. An empty dug grave next to where the teenagers had been drinking had given him the idea of his Mount Grove hiding place and he’d scoured the cemetery until he found the specifics he needed.
Inside a columbarium unit, he claimed and modified several spaces for his cache of weapons, aliases, and whatever else he felt was needed. Breaking into the church’s records to make it look like the columbarium spaces he’d claimed were already reserved and had been in use for decades was easier than expected because the church’s records weren’t computerized yet.
Tally had her phone. After Keys had looked at it to assure Scar that whatever Tom had done to keep her father from being able to track her was sufficient, Scar had let her keep it. He had no intention of making her cut contact with the outside world and wanted her to be able to keep in contact with Simone and Sissy. So long as it was what she wanted.
Always what she wanted. The rest of the world could go up in flames for all he cared, so long as Tally was happy, healthy, and safe.
Tally had asked for a bed that night, so Scar would get her a bed. She deserved finery and the fluffiest of mattresses, but her safety was his top priority. Alpha knew about Mount Grove. It wouldn’t take a big leap to assume that the club would return there with Scar after breaking him out of Primis. Per what Keys had told Scar that morning, Alpha had a lot more to worry about than his daughter’s location. However, Scar knew the man well enough to know that he would be seeking revenge and he would blame Scar.
Scar was all for that fight. He didn’t even mind the idea that Tally would be there when it occurred, but he’d be damned if he was caught with his pants down. The fight would be on his terms when he was ready. Not before.
And Scar had every intention of losing those pants as soon as he found Tally a suitable bed. He didn’t know what the night would bring. He knew what he desired, but there was a level of uncertainty that was very uncharacteristic for him.
Could he make love to her?
He wanted to. Fuck, how he wanted. He wanted her scorching touch to ignite them into an inferno of passion and desire. He couldn’t say what he was feeling, couldn’t whisper sweet nothings into her ear, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use his tongue in other ways to prove to her just how precious she was to him.
No, Scar’s hesitation came from a worry of her reaction, not his.
Tally had felt his face and throat. She knew that he had both external and internal scars, but had she realized the extent of his marred flesh? Had she realized that the marks on his throat were not just in the front?
At the hospital the day before, Tessa had seen him undressed again. Only this time, she had the opportunity and the time to really look . And he’d seen it. She’d tried to hide her reaction, both as a professional and out of respect for him, but he’d seen it.
The long slice on his face was always what drew people’s attention. To the point where it was all they saw when they looked at him. Few ever noticed or bothered to notice that he was missing a part of his right ear.
And there was more. All over him.
His current stitches and the bullet he’d taken in April only added to his disfigurement.
Scar didn’t care what people thought of him. Monster, freak… Looks were more important to people than who a person was. Their opinions didn’t matter to him. But Tally’s did.
Tally’s was the only one that mattered.
And Tally would see it all. Not with her eyes, but with her hands. She would see more than anyone else. And what if… What if she didn’t like what she felt?
There was a part of him, a crazy, rabid part, that knew Tally’s rejection would destroy him. A part that said he wouldn’t give her the option to leave him. He’d staked his claim and she was his, regardless of what she wanted. He was never letting her go.
A different, more reasonable part of him tried to tell him that he couldn’t hold Tally against her will. If she chose to leave him, to reject him, then he would have to respect that decision. That part of him was so minute that its voice was barely a whisper.
He tried to assure himself that neither voice’s opinion would matter because Tally would never reject him. She was smart enough to know, or guess, that neither his body nor his mind was like any other man’s. And she was still here. She’d gotten onto his bike and was preparing to stand with him against her own father, a man she’d known for thirty-two years and who had raised her. Yet she was here with Scar, a man she’d known for barely a month.
She had to know… But could her mind even conjure up a modicum of reality? How could she possibly predict every scar, blemish, and missing piece when she didn’t know all of his history? He highly doubted either her father or the club had given her his military jacket to read.
While at lunch earlier, Scar had looked on her phone for someplace that wasn’t a chain hotel or a sleazy motel where he could take Tally that evening. He located a rustic, single-story cabin rental in the mountains of Indiana. It had an A-frame design and a large, covered porch that reviews stated was perfect for sunset scenic pictures. Scar didn’t care if it was facing the Gates of Heaven. It was vacant for at least three nights, secluded, and the open cliff face made it easily defensible. So he’d changed their direction and started heading north instead of continuing west.
The closer they got to the Airbnb , the higher his nerves rose. Fucking hell, he hadn’t even been this nervous when he’d lost his fucking virginity. If his brothers knew that he, Scar , was nervous about possibly making love to his woman tonight, they’d laugh their asses off.
As if she sensed his inner turmoil, Tally’s hand moved up to rest over his heart. She was already pressed as tightly against him as she could be without being inside his clothing. But that gesture, like she would hold his heart in her hand if she could, eased his rising anxiety.
Whatever happened, happened. He didn’t just trust Tally, he trusted in her. He didn’t need to have loved a woman in the past to know what it was he was feeling now. There was no comparison. Scar had fallen for the woman clinging to him like a koala.
Fallen. Completely and irreversibly.
And he knew without the words that she felt the same. Somehow, this incredibly remarkable woman had laid claim to him . She’d had ‘the normal guy’ and she’d still chosen him . Nerves or no, he would prove to her that he was worthy of that choice.
* * *
The fresh night air smelled of pine. Leaves, twigs, and dirt crunched beneath Tally’s shoes as she dismounted. Opening up her cane, Tally clicked her tongue as she made a full circle to get a sense of their surroundings. Trees. Wherever they were had a lot of trees. Very tall, very wide trees.
They were parked in front of a structure. Using her cane and her ears, Tally guided herself to the side. It was smooth and warm to the touch from the day’s sunlight. She tapped on it to verify her assumption that it was finished wood. A cabin, she would guess. From the sounds of nature, they were in the woods.
Turning, she searched until she located Scar. He was walking towards her with something large in each hand. As he drew closer, she realized it was her travel bag and she assumed the other bag was his. The fact that Scar had packed a bag seemed too domestic for the likes of him. She tried to picture him doing something as mundane as folding undies into a suitcase and could only smile. The slight clinking of metal, though, clued her in that there likely was no underwear in Scar’s bag.
Which made her smile even wider.
“You know, this is like the perfect start to a horror movie. Evil villain kidnaps mere, defenseless, blind girl and drives her around so she loses all sense of direction. Then he keeps her in a cabin she thinks is in the middle of nowhere but was actually in her parents’ backyard the whole time.”
Scar shifted both their bags to his left hand, his right arm snaking around the back of her waist. Tally’s cheeks hurt from how widely she was grinning as he pulled her against his hard chest.
That low rumble rose up again, sending vibrations through her from their close proximity. Her nipples tightened as moisture pooled between her legs. Tally shuddered, desire making her breath shaky.
“I’ve never been defenseless,” she assured him. “And you might be a villain, but you’re mine and you certainly aren’t evil.”
He dropped his right cheek down, rubbing into hers. Tally raised her hand up to cup the exposed side of his face. The pad of her thumb brushed against the jagged ridge of his facial scar and he shook against her. She heard and felt him breathe into her hair.
Simultaneous thuds behind her startled Tally as he tossed their bags onto what she assumed was a ground-level platform deck in front of the cabin. She hadn’t done a close enough inspection of the building to get an idea of the layout. Scar’s arm around her waist tightened, keeping her locked against him.
His now-free hand went to the end of her long braid at her back. He pulled the elastic band. She didn’t hear it fall and could only assume from him immediately moving his fingers through her thick locks to undo her braid that he’d placed the band around his wrist.
She’d gotten a sense over the past day that he preferred her hair down. As far as Tally could remember, he’d rarely seen her hair down during their time in Atlanta. He never came into her bedroom and her hair was always tied back for work. A braid was her preferred method of securing her hair because it was something she could do without having to verify with someone else that it looked good.
As soon as she knew that she was going to be wearing a helmet today, she’d fixed her hair back into a braid. But if he liked it down, she was fine with that too and would try to limit how often she put it up. It was a small thing that she could do for him that didn’t matter much to her one way or another.
Once her hair was free, Scar raised his hand up to the base of her skull. His fingers tangled into the strands. Tally breathed him in. The man still had no scent to him other than leather and metal. Those were external sources. She wondered if he used something like hunter’s soap to remove his natural scent.
When he turned his head, pressing his nose and lips against her, Tally dropped her right hand to his waist. He wore tight leather pants. Though he had no belt, his pants had loops. She hooked her little finger through one, working the rest of her hand under his shirt. He was wearing long sleeves again, and she had to wonder if he always did. The feel of uneven skin under her fingertips at his hip hinted that he might.
Her heart ached at what might have caused the blemish, but she equally did not want to know. As strong as she was, she was not strong enough to handle those details.
“I need you to promise me something.” Her voice was low, husky almost. The desire coursing through her for this man made it hard to remember how to breathe.
Scar let out a puff of hot air from his nose. It flowed down her cheek, making her entire body quiver in need.
“Don’t hide from me.” She rubbed her hand against the marred flesh at his hip so he knew what it was she was referring to. “Promise me, if we do this, if you choose to be with me, that you’ll give me all of you. Protect my body, but not my heart or my mind. Give me everything, Julian. Show me everything. I won’t go running scared. I might be startled,” she stressed, just being honest, “but I won’t run from you. Give me you , and I swear I’ll do the same.”
That rumble from deep in his chest rose up again, louder and more possessive than before. His fingers bit into the skin at her back and tightened in her hair. His nose at her temple, Scar pressed his mouth against her. His lips moved, but the pressure was wrong for a kiss.
They moved again. His hold tightened even more, turning almost domineering.
Tally’s mouth mimicked his, trying to figure out what he was doing.
Again, she felt his lips against the side of her face—and then gasped. He wasn’t speaking. There was no sound, but she knew. In her heart, she knew. And the fact that he’d said it first meant so much to her.
She reached up, grabbing his chin. Tally’s grip on him was as equally possessive as his. She dragged his face away, holding it in front of hers. She wanted him to be able to see her .
“I love you too, Julian.”
* * *
Tally’s scream quickly turned into an exuberant laugh as Scar threw her over his shoulder. Her cane fell to the dirt, where he left it as he stepped onto the porch. His woman had just declared her love for him, had accepted his love for her. There were no more nerves, no more hesitation.
He needed to be inside her, to make her scream his name so loud it created a fixed echo so he would never again be without her voice in his head.
The cabin had a security system that he’d disabled while she was taking in her unknown surroundings. The door, however, was still locked. With her thrown over his shoulder, he didn’t have the patience to bend down to pick the lock.
A swift kick solved that problem.
The door splintered open. Fuck it. He’d planned on leaving cash for the unauthorized use of the cabin, anyway.
The cabin had a freshly-cleaned smell to it, but the dim light of the setting summer sun did little to illuminate the interior. Tally put her hands down the back of his pants, squeezing the globes of his ass as he walked them inside.
“Commando?” she giggled. “How did I know you didn’t wear undies?”
Scar shook his head at her joke, loving her playfulness. He never wore skivvies, though she’d never guess why. It was certainly for a less sexy reason than a lack of clothing. The idea of wearing underwear again wasn’t what got to him. It was the times when he only was in skivvies that got to him. He would rather be naked than ever wear just underwear again.
The cabin was small enough that it took no time at all for him to discover the bedroom. Ignoring the twinge in his side, Scar tossed Tally off of his shoulder and flung her across the room. Her shocked cry turned into a gasp when she finally landed on the soft mattress.
Tally felt around on the comforter for a moment before rising up onto her knees. “You know, I’ve heard a lot of people call you an asshole over the past week. Never thought I would agree with them!”
Something akin to a snort blew from his nose. Scar removed his tactical vest and long-sleeve shirt. Anticipation for the feel of her hands on his bare skin made his heart pound harder. She was the only person he ever wanted to touch him for the rest of eternity. He craved her hands with a mixture of desire and impatience.
His biker boots, socks, and pants came off next.
No barriers. She wanted all of him? She would get all of him.
Scar prowled towards the bed. He could tell she was tracking him, her chin tipped slightly in his direction. Was it wrong of him that he didn’t care that she would never see him, that he wasn’t bothered by her lack of eyes? That it was her hands on him that he wanted?
This beautiful, exotic creature before him was one of a kind, as unique as their whirlwind romance. In the dim lighting of the open window, on a bed waiting for him, Scar did not think he’d ever seen a more stunning sight in all his life.
He neared the edge of the bed. Tally reached for him, the flat of her palm connecting with his bare pec. Fuck, it was such a sweet burn.
Scar knew from his time spent in the shadows of her life that she had a birth control implant in her arm. This was good, because he didn’t have any condoms, nor did he want children. He was not in a place in his life where he could take care of a child. Additionally, he didn’t know how he would react to a child, even his own. What if he couldn’t even touch him or her? No, children were definitely not in his plans.
Selfishly, he wanted Tally all to himself. A child would require a lot of attention, and Scar was not prepared to share her.
He was clean. Tessa had tested him the day before for all sorts of things, including STDs. Some took longer than the rapid tests the hospital provided, but the chances of him having those were slim. It was the blood-borne ones he was concerned about. Not from sex, but from the amount of blood he tended to be exposed to.
Kneeling on the bed, Tally lifted her hands to his hair. The black strands were longer than he normally kept them. Her movements mirrored, Tally brought her hands down. She first traced the arc of his forehead and over his eyebrows. Scar closed his eyelids as her fingertips skimmed along his orbital bones, over his eyeballs, and to the bridge of his nose. She went down to his nose tip, separating to each nostril. Under his eyes, she went back up to his temples before going down his cheek bones. Wanting her to feel something on his face other than his disfigurements, Scar had left the scruff he’d grown during his captivity.
Her fingers outlined his lips before making their way down his chin and across his jawline to his ears. Her concentration was disturbed by shock when she felt the missing part of his right ear. She went down the length of his throat to his collarbones.
“Your heart rate picks up whenever I find a scar. Are you worried I’ll find them ugly? Because I don’t. They’re a testament of what you’ve survived.” She lowered her right hand above his heart. “You would have to be ugly in here for it to affect me.”
Was she oblivious to how black his soul was? How depraved and twisted his mind was? Perhaps it was best that she had no way to sense those.
Sitting back on her heels, Tally removed his cut. She handed him the leather, which he tossed onto the nightstand. When she reached for the hem of her shirt, though, Scar stayed her hands. Briefly gripping her wrists, he replaced her hands with his. Tally raised her arms over her head, allowing him to reveal her torso as he removed the shirt.
Her white bra contrasted erotically against the milk chocolate of her skin. Scar’s blood hummed, an almost antsy feeling radiating down his spine. The roundness of her breasts, the flat of her belly, the curve of her hips… She was perfection incarnate.
After tossing the shirt towards the door where his own clothing was, Scar reached for her arm. He touched the inside of her bicep, indicating that he knew she was on birth control.
She nodded once, murmuring, “I trust you.”
Scar placed his large palm between the valley of her breasts, mimicking her. Her heart was racing just as his was. Tally reached behind her back, unhooking and removing her bra, before returning her hand to his chest.
He noted their ironic juxtaposition; she had dark skin with a white soul while he had light skin with a black soul.
Yin and yang.
“Are you burning too? I feel like a single kiss will set me aflame.”
She had no idea, but she was about to.
Scar lowered his mouth to her breast. Taking her nipple between his lips, he suckled and teased the tight bud. Her back arched into his touch as Scar lowered his hands down to the button of her jeans.
They moved as one, as if this was their hundredth time making love instead of their first. Tally rolled onto her back. Scar’s mouth did not leave her breast as he followed, pulling her pants and panties down her long legs. Tally shifted, kicking her shoes off with the tips of her toes before bending her knees so he could completely remove her clothing.
He wanted to go slow, to savor this luscious body beneath his, but he was so starved for her. He felt like a coil waiting to spring. His muscles were so tense, trying to maintain a modicum of control.
He would cut off his own dick before he caused her an ounce of discomfort.
Scar shifted so he was over her and Tally’s legs widened. He settled himself against her heat. Fuck, he could feel her dampness against his cock. He had been trying so hard not to think about or with his dick, his entire focus on her pleasure. But the feel of her slickness rubbing up against his cock as she tipped her hips was nearly too much.
A hand on his lower back, the other went into his hair. Scar was not expecting to feel that hand tighten and then pull his hair up, lifting his mouth off of her breast.
“Look at me, Scar.” He shifted, raising himself up on his arms over her. “Are you looking? I can feel you. You’re all tension and boiled up power. If your fear is that you’ll hurt me, then think again.” She nipped his shoulder. “Maybe I like a bite of pain with sex. You can’t and won’t hurt me, and you just promised not to hide from me. If you want to pound me into this mattress, then do so. If I wake up with bruises in the morning, know I’ll consider them well-earned. If you want to make love to me slow and sweet, then do so. So long as you’re giving me all of you .” Her lips twitched. “And just know, fast or slow, hard or soft, I plan on scratching the hell out of your back.”
Holy hell. Motherfucker. At those words, the coil sprung.
Scar lowered his mouth back down to her breast—and bit . He did not break her silky flesh, but he would leave the impression of his teeth.
Tally screamed. “Julian!” And true to her warning, the fingernails of the hand on his back dug into his skin.
Reaching behind him, he took hold of her wrist. He did not dare remove her hand from his skin, but he also had enough marks on his back to last him a lifetime. Scar brought her hand down to the globe of his ass. Her nails bit into his cheek and Scar groaned. She could leave any marks she wanted on his ass; it was hers, after all.
Scar hollowed his cheeks around her nipple. He loved how reactive she was to his playing with her breasts because he loved worshiping her there.
Scar ground his pelvis down, rubbing the ridge of his cock against her sensitive bud. Her hips rolled, meeting his and increasing the friction between them.
When he felt her tense beneath him, Scar rose up to claim her mouth. He wanted to swallow her first orgasmic scream, and when it came, he wished he could hold it inside his lungs for eternity.
He shifted his hips, hoping the single orgasm was enough to prepare her. The head of his cock notched inside her wet entrance. Tally squeezed his ass and bit his lower lip. It was all the permission he needed.
Scar surged inside her. Fuck, she was so tight. He remembered the feel of sex, but being with Tally was an unfair comparison. A single blade of grass to a sunlit pasture. She was everything and he was entirely hers. Her inner muscles quaked around him, and their connected mouths tensed together as she moaned and he let out a possessive growl.
Scar thrust several times, and though he was inside her as far as he could go, it still wasn’t far enough. Gripping her arms, he rolled them with their bodies still linked. On his back, he sank even further inside.
Tally rose up, her hands seeking his. Their fingers laced together, reminding Scar of the first time they’d touched. Fuck, had that only been yesterday? So much time and yet not enough. Never enough. He needed forever with this woman.
Tally brought their hands over his head, taking his mouth while rolling her hips. The bed shook beneath them. Scar planted his feet flat on the mattress, his knees bent behind her ass. He pounded up inside of her. Tally met him thrust for thrust, their rhythm nearly in sync.
The trust between them was infinite, their love explosive. The roar inside Scar’s head was deafening, drowned out only by Tally’s passionate cry. He erupted inside of her, staking his final claim.
Gasping for breath, Tally collapsed over top of him. Her breasts pressed tightly between them.
But Scar was not ready for this to be over. Like an addict, he needed more of her.
Placing his hands on her hips, he started to rock her pussy up and down over his cock again. She groaned, but it was not a sound of distress. Only exhausted pleasure.
Rolling once again, he pulled himself from her heat, flipped her onto her belly, and then surged back up inside her. He wanted to take her from behind but couldn’t stand the idea of separating from her in the traditional doggie-style position. Too much space. Scar needed to be as close to this woman as physically possible.
Burying his face in her hair, taking in her coconut and vanilla scent, Scar reached beneath her to grab hold of the nipple he’d suckled minutes ago, knowing it would be sensitive. Tally shuddered with pleasure, a gasp escaping her.
“Julian,” she moaned.
Fuck, he needed her mouth again. Shifting them onto their sides, Tally’s head rested on Scar’s right bicep. He took his left hand away from her breast, hooking his arm under her left knee and pulled her leg up to her chest. Lowering his right hand to her other breast, he thrust inside of her, claiming her mouth, her pussy, and her nipple in unison.
Not enough. Never enough.
He was a starving man who’d just been given an endless buffet of delicate sweetness. Eventually, they would have to come up for air, to face reality again, but not this moment, nor the next. All that mattered in the world was Tally.
* * *
After going outside in the nearly moonless night to retrieve their bags and her cane, they took a shower. When Tally dropped down to her knees, taking him into her mouth, Scar swore he’d never shower alone again.
Returning to the bed, Scar laid flat while Tally ran her hands over every inch of him. First on his belly and then on his back. She found every scar, every stitch, every bruise. Her bending to lick the hard ridges of his six-pack was only second to the acceptance on her face as she learned his body.
Then she placed a makeshift blindfold over his eyes with a pillaged towel from the bathroom and let him do the same. As Scar worked his hands over her ample breasts and the curves of her waist, he understood just how much of life he missed out on by his tactile hypersensitivity.
Scar hadn’t intended to fall asleep. It felt like such a waste of time when he had a naked Tally in bed with him. The fact that he slept at all was momentous, but he shouldn’t have been surprised.
In the glow of the morning sun coming through the window, Scar’s sleep-fogged eyes landed on the seven figures standing in the bedroom. He did not move, staring at the men as they stared down at him. One by one, they gave him a nod of approval before walking out of the room.
Patriot.
Lamb Chop.
St. Nick.
Sparkles.
Farmboy.
Cajun.
The last to leave looked just as Scar remembered him, that youthful face and cocky smile. Little Tyke snapped to attention, his hand at a perfect salute. Dropping his arm, he nodded and winked before following his brothers out the door.
Maybe Scar wasn’t the only one who could finally get some rest.