Chapter 24
Shooter
Shoving down the thoughts of how she looked good in her own cut was hard enough, but the thought of it one day having the words “Property of Shooter” was harder to shove away. It fit her like a second skin.
She stood in the same spot after she stopped by her truck, her hands rested on her hips. “If you think that I’m going to ride on that death trap, you’re crazy.”
Crazy was one word for me, obsessed was more accurate. “Get on the bike, peaches.” I yelled over the engine, the bike humming under my legs. Maybe she was scared, or maybe she was just stubborn.
“And what if I don’t?” She tossed her hips to the side.
“You will, or else.”
“Or else what?” she asked. Yep, definitely stubborn.
“Or else I’ll kiss you.”
She tilted her head. “That’s the worst you can do?”
I swung my legs over again, stalking toward her, “No. There are plenty of things that I could do, especially when I found out how touch starved you are, how deep your soul cries out for release, and you beg me to come all over my dick, and I simply just leave you there in a heap of mess, it still won’t be my worst.”
Her body relaxed, debating whether she was turned on or not. “Shall we find out?” she playfully said before brushing past me and waited for me to get back on. I’d find her limits and push them; I’d silence every thought that held her back.
She challenged me more than any brother, any soldier ever did, and it only made me smile inside. Her arms wrapped around me tight, clinging on to the last bit of hope for a safe ride. She almost couldn’t fully wrap around me, and her hands started to panic, reaching to hold on to something.
Her hand brushed over my already hardened dick and I fought back the groan bubbling in my throat. I needed to get through the first portion of the night before I could have my way with her, allow her to spread those wings.
She settled in, almost like this wasn’t her first time. She leaned when she was supposed, she relaxed, melting into me. Her citrusy scent filled my senses, driving me crazy. She felt like she had belonged there for a long time.
I stopped short of the warehouse, Whispers, waiting for her to start questioning or withdraw with sudden regret, but I should have known my girl better when she said, “When I imagined your kink room, I should have guessed it to be in a warehouse with some warning.”
“Much to your disappointment, it’s not a kink space. But we'll put a pin in that conversation.” I winked at her as she turned back around once she was off the bike. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.” I took her small hand in mine as the rush of nerves flowed through me.
I didn’t know why I was so nervous. It wasn’t like it was a life-altering secret or something. Maybe it was something that part of me needed to show her that with all the darkness that surrounded me, there was a slight glimmer of hope, the light at the end of the tunnel.
Through the winding halls and a twist of a key, I showed her the hidden world that most would never guess about me. I turned on the light, revealing the colors of my mind, my dreams, my anger, everything.
She took a few steps in the center, twisting around, with a mouth open wide.
Amelia shucked her cut off, placing it on the chair in the corner before exploring the room.
She’d take a few steps toward some works in progress, itching to touch the canvas.
I stood back, letting her explore the world of my own.
Her eyes drifted to the corner of a finished piece, lightly brushing over the “R”, her breath caught in her throat. “River,” she whispered, putting the pieces together. “These are beautiful.”
I shrugged. “They’re alright.”
“Stop, they are more than alright. These should be seen by others.”
I shook my head. “Nah.”
She took a step back, throwing her hands in the hand almost halting at something, “I’m a little confused.”
“About?”
“You.”
I walked toward her. “Explain.”
“Who are you? Why are you the way you are? Do people see you as this dark cloud that you’re perceived to be? Or are you the type of man that cares too deeply that it scares people?”
“You know who I am.”
“Barely.”
“Well, that’s kind of why you’re here, Amelia.
” I took her hand, bringing it to my lips to kiss it slowly before dragging her to the enormous canvas for the little date I had planned.
“Some days can be dark. When I was in the field, some days were endless, it was one thing after another. They never tell you that war is truly a hell until you live it. The army was my way to escape. I had very little family, very little drive, and then being recruited to go through trauma medical education.” I paused, the memories of the life before this flooded very quickly.
I wasn’t ready. But a gentle brush from Amelia’s hand pulled me back to the present.
“Sugar, you don’t have to go back to those memories.” Her voice remained soft.
“It’s okay. Just hard sometimes. When you lose the amount of people I did, that will barely scratch the surface.” I had a plan after all, and this was part of it. “You trust me?”
Her eyes scrunched. “Um, I feel like I should be saying no, but yeah, I trust you. Why?”
Before she could question my intentions further, I snapped a cuff that was tied around one of the structured poles. “Because I’m ready to paint my next masterpiece.”
“And that requires a leather cuff and a huge canvas… yeah, I trust you.” She rolled her eyes. Her curious eyes drifted from side to side, trying to piece together the truth of what was going to happen.
I chuckled, finding a pair of shears, “Are you fond of this t-shirt?” I opened and closed the shears a few times.
“Don’t you dare!” she yelled, but it was too late, I had to cut the fabric of her old t-shirt, needing my other canvas with some room for the art I had envisioned. The little squeak that came from her was too damn adorable.
She huffed out, “Now what? Why am I feeling like a prisoner?”
“Do you?”
“I mean, no, but if you wanted to explore a kinky side, I’m sure we’d be having a discussion.”
“Good to know, peaches. Now, just trust me, please. I’d hate to stuff something in that pretty little mouth of yours.” Heat rose to her cheeks, and suddenly she quietened down.
All I wanted from her was for her to give in a hundred percent and allow us to be what I know she needed and what I dreamed of.
I adjusted her to center her in the middle of the canvas.
I had already painted the canvas a darkish midnight blue, because what I had in store, the real beauty would be shone.
Warm light cascaded around her, making her skin look even softer.
“To answer your question, I wanted to show you a piece of me that a lot will never see.” I turned away grabbing the palette of paint I set out and chose an array of different size brushes.
The chain jingled for a few moments as Amelia became more antsy, waiting for the next move.
I loved bringing her to the edge, it just made her pleasure even sweeter.
As I turned, she kept looking up and down her body, like she was uncomfortable or even self-conscious.
Never did I want her to hide her body from me.
“You ready?”
“For what?”
“To become a masterpiece,” I teased, but she bit her lower lip thinking of accepting it.
I kept her standing still as I bent down with paint on a brush and leaned to the side of her and started to press the color to the canvas. Every passing movement brushed against her skin. The tiny chill bumps skimmed across my arms as I moved.
Color started to surround her, highlighting every curve of her body.
She shivered as I moved down her legs. Between every dip of the brush and pressing it back to the canvas, I fought off the thought of kissing her, tempting her.
But that wouldn’t be until later. I had her there, and she wasn’t going anywhere.
“River,” she called out, breaking my focus for a moment. “Why do you need an outlet like this?”
I sighed. “I was an angry man, okay, I still am. After a certain number of years and training with the army, I got out. Too many ghosts came back, and I couldn’t stay any longer.
Once my time was up, I left and more importantly, I never went back home.
I was a nobody from Louisiana. There was nothing.
Spent a couple of years doing underground fighting and it wasn’t enough. ”
“So, you went and looked for something?”
“Sort of. A buddy of mine, D.R., told me about a club that one of his club brother’s brother was starting to go into and said, I needed a place where people could look out for me and I could displace my anger for something better.
Brotherhood, a family. I won’t lie, the first couple of years were hell. ”
Her eyes traveled to me, as I looked back into her soft gaze. “What happened?”
“I got involved with the boxing gym that we had been fronting and gotten into some of the fights they were hosting. Hanks and Skaggs found I was pretty decent with gloves and bare-knuckle fighting. One night, I had an opponent that was pissing me off and talking shit all night. I remember my body and mind working against common sense and soon, a few almost fatal punches and the other guy barely moved. I blacked out. I just remember what he had said, and Hank told me it was like watching a switch turn.”
“You turned into a different person.”
“Perhaps,” I said, bending back down to highlight more color on the canvas.
“You weren’t yourself.”
I shook my head. “No, peaches, I was exactly who I was, a mad man that would make someone's worst nightmares come alive. I am the overprotective man that would snap the hand of another person for touching someone they weren’t supposed to touch. People turn in the opposite direction. I have laid hands on my brothers, flicking that switch at the mention of your name.”
Amelia carefully moved her freed hand toward my face, tilting it back to her. “Sometimes being protective isn’t a bad thing.”