Chapter 4 #2
Shawn looked at me for a second, so much working in the back of his blue gaze.
For a moment, I thought he would say, forget it, and walk out, insist on sleeping on the couch or the floor.
But he didn’t. Stone simply nodded and walked towards his dresser.
I couldn’t tear my eyes from him, wondering what the universe had thought when it made our paths cross the way it had.
I still wasn’t sure how he’d talked me into going with him, jumping on the back of his bike after he’d fed me.
His hands rose, and all thoughts in my head vanished at the snap of a finger.
Stone silently took off the black leather vest with the Steel Sinners logo on the back and a small STONE patch on the front and set it on top of his dresser.
He reached to take his shirt off in that complicated way men undress, and my mouth went dry.
Bone dry. Whatever I thought he was going to look like shirtless was nothing like the reality of him.
My eyes widened and my breathing shallowed.
Tattoos marked his chest. Dark ink swirled and mixed, dark hair sprinkled over his skin in the manliest way possible.
Dirty thoughts came to life and my palms itched to stroke his chest. To get up on my knees in his bed and beckon him close, all so I could stroke his flesh, feel his heat, his muscles skin to skin.
If that wasn’t enough, he was muscular. Not the kind that came from meticulous time at a gym but thick slabs that came from hard work outside.
Holy shit, he was beautiful.
Stone’s fingers ran through his beard, and when his eyes rose, it was like he was silently challenging me.
Daring me to take back my offer. But I didn’t.
His hands dropped, and he slowly worked his belt loose.
Every exhale felt hotter, warmer than the last as I watched him undress to nothing but a pair of tight black boxer briefs that left little to the imagination.
Standing there, his muscles flexed and strained, he looked like he easily could have belonged on the cover of a romance novel.
My eyes dropped, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from moaning out loud.
He was hard. Long and thick from the bulge that strained at the front of his briefs.
He turned and opened a drawer, finding a pair of shorts and pulling them on.
Damn, the little sex-starved kitten he’d brought to life pouted.
Did that mean he didn’t want me?
No. He wanted me, that much was… visible.
But does he not want to want me? God! I was way too green behind the ears for a man like Shawn. Like daddy.
He turned the light out in the room before getting into bed. He didn’t join me under the sheets, though. He lay down on his back on top of the blanket, his large body stiff as he stared up at the ceiling.
“Shawn?” I called out in the darkness.
“Yeah, princess?” he rasped.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly. He shifted, moving to his side to stare at me.
I’d never lain in bed with someone, and I wondered if this was a level of intimacy a lot of others took for granted.
There was something sweet about lying in bed with the giant Viking biker, staring at him eye to eye on the same level compared to standing next to one another.
“I’m good,” he rumbled, his handsome face set almost gravely.
“You sure? You don’t look—“
“I promise I’m good, princess,” he cut me off. I licked my lips. I didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped to my mouth. The way my lips tingled with an ache to be kissed.
I’d only kissed two boys in the past. One in fifth grade when Jimmy Perez ran up to me on a dare from his friends and put his lips to mine, and in high school after math my sophomore year when my best friend Van Morgan asked if he could kiss me, and when I let him, it felt completely wrong, so we never did that again.
“I can sleep on the couch,” I whispered.
“Baby—“
“Why are you all the way over there?” I whispered, my tone almost whiny.
“Princess, daddy gets close to you and…” He made a deep guttural sound.
“And what?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. Those words hung between us like a promise or a warning, I wasn’t sure. Everything inside of me said it was the sweetest of promises.
I wanted him. I knew that.
I was a virgin, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know what I wanted.
I wasn’t a kid. I was a twenty-two-year-old woman who had gone through a lot.
Seen and put up with a lot. Mostly for her mom so she wouldn’t end up alone.
But now that she was gone and my sister was god only knew where, I’d escaped the hell I’d lived in for them.
That sex kitten inside of me took over as I scooted a little closer.
It was like this part of me that had just woken up was in control and needing to stretch out her wings.
Or maybe she had always existed deep inside but finally felt safe enough to show herself.
The bed was huge, but he was big, too, so it wasn’t like I had to go all that far.
Our arms brushed against one another in the darkness, just a whisper of a touch, and I swear my knees would have given out under me if I’d been standing.
But when he made a sound under his breath, the kitten in me got skittish and was ready to retreat.
Maybe I am just making a fool out of myself?
“Sorry. I’ll just—“ I started to turn, but he didn’t let me. A lot faster and quieter than a man his size should be, he flipped me onto my back, his body hovering just above me. Not necessarily touching me between the sheets but enough to feel the heat of his body radiate through the bedding.
“Daddy?” I said quietly. I wasn’t sure how the hell I felt as comfortable as I did around a man I’d just met to call him that.
A man who should probably scare the crap out of me.
One who was obviously bigger and stronger than me in so many different ways.
One who I should have felt was completely and utterly out of my league but with the way he looked at me had me feeling brave for the first time in my life.
My hand rose without permission and cupped the side of his face.
The long yet trimmed wiry hairs tickled the palm of my hand.
He groaned, a sound I felt despite the layers between us.
“I don’t want to scare you off,” he rumbled, his forehead dipping so low it almost touched mine, but he kept away.
“You couldn’t,” I argued. Not even if he tries. There was something about the way this bearded biker looked at me even in the darkness that made me feel safe. Cared for. Shit, I was really in over my head.
“You’re going to rest tonight,” he ordered. My lips twitched slightly.
“Or else, what?” I dared, still stroking his beard.
“Little girl,” he warned, an edge clear as day in his voice.
“Fine. But you should sleep under the covers,” I suggested, my voice softening as not only the day started to weigh on me, but what felt like the last three months of chaos that had been my life.
“Fuck,” he cursed and gave me a little more of his weight, his forehead pressing against mine. “You’re going to be the death of me, baby.”
“I doubt that.” I yawned. His blue eyes softened, and he kissed the tip of my nose before rolling off me, getting under the sheets, and before I could say a word, pulled me into the side of his body, my head resting on his shoulder and chest.
“Sleep,” he demanded in a gruff yet somehow sweet tone. I yawned one more time and rested my hand open palmed on his bare chest. I could feel his heartbeat under my palm, the calming beat of the organ a lullaby.
“Good night, Stone,” I said into the darkness of the room. His clear grunt was his only response, but it made me smile nonetheless.
My eyes drifted closed, and before I knew it, I was out.