Chapter
Kimber
Rolling over on something soft and comfortable, I groaned.
Fuck.
My head.
Bringing a hand to my temple, I pressed on it, trying to get the pressure to redirect and take the pain away.
It never worked, but still, it was worth the move, right? If it helped, that was.
And sadly, it wasn’t helping.
I sighed, tossed the heavy thing off me, stood up, stumbled around, and flicked on a light.
In front of me was a black shower curtain.
Yes.
That would help.
Blindly, I removed whatever I was wearing, then opened the shower curtain and stepped inside.
My hands moved around, and once I found what I was sure were the dials, I turned them.
Thirteen seconds later, I moaned.
Hot water.
Yes.
There was just something about hot water that helped ease away whatever worry you had.
As the hot water from the shower poured over my skin, my brain started to come online.
Bits and pieces from the night before slowly started to filter in.
I ate something.
I drank.
A good bit.
I.... what else... oh shit.
A man.
Grey hair.
Gorgeous... and I told him that... oh. My. God.
I closed my eyes and dropped my head.
And then words I had never shared before came back with an alarming clarity, ones I had shared with that man. Grey.
Oh. My. God.
I wanted to slap my hand over my face for what had happened last night.
But what’s done is done.
I closed my eyes and let out another long-ass groan.
Oh, but how I wished I were one of those blessed people who suffered from amnesia the morning after getting rip-roaring drunk. Unfortunately, I wasn’t that fucking lucky.
Nope. Not me.
Not Kimber Diane Stevenson.
And then I recalled what had taken place with my sister.
Fuck.
Me.
Well... now that I wasn’t exactly drunk, and since everything that took place last night was back in my brain, I recalled what my sister had on.
Now... I didn’t know that the bar I went to last night was the clubhouse for the local motorcycle club, but I did read romance books about stuff like that.
And if I was being honest... my favorite was a motorcycle club romance. Actually, my favorite book was called Motorcycle Man. Freaking love that book.
And judging by what I know is referred to as a sweet butt, a bunnie, or a club girl, and from how my sister was dressed in a skimpy top that left nothing to the imagination, as well as a short leather skirt and sky-high heels... that’s what she was.
Her vagueness.
The unwillingness to go to our parents’ house.
Her need to be free ever since she was a little girl... yes, she was older than me by three years, but even I knew that about her.
I shook my head, then looked to the left where my shower caddy was and froze.
Cause this wasn’t my shower.
I hadn’t made it home last night.
No.
I had needed to pee.
Grey had led me through the clubhouse and to a room.
He’d given me some clothes to change into.
I had... and then... I’d seen a bed and wanted to lie down for a bit.
And now I was here.
I’d woken up in another bed that wasn’t mine.
I was in a shower that wasn’t mine.
I winced.
Way to go, Kimber. I mentally chided myself.
Then I looked around the shower, found some bottles, and seeing one was a two-in-one, I grabbed it.
Sniffed it.
It was a girl thing, shut up.
After I washed my hair, I grabbed the green bottle of Irish Spring.
I lathered up, then rinsed off.
I turned off the water, and that was when it hit me.
Towels.
Fucking hell.
I closed my eyes.
Then a deep raspy voice came from outside the shower curtain, “Kimber? You alright in there?”
I squeaked.
I heard a chuckle.
“Umm, yeah?” I asked.
He chuckled again, “It’s Grey, darlin’. What do you need?”
“Umm, well, two towels if that’s okay?” I asked.
Moments later, I heard a soft click, then, “Placed them on the sink. Future reference, they’re in the cabinet above the toilet. Yeah?”
Future reference?
What the hell did that mean?
But like this whole weekend had been a clusterfuck, I just rolled with it, therefore, I said, “Got it. Thank you.”
And then when I heard nothing, I asked, “Umm, Grey?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Can you leave me alone so I can dry off and get dressed?”
He chuckled. “You got it, baby girl.”
Then I heard the door close.
And that was when it hit me what he said.
Baby girl. He really said that. Right? My mind wasn’t playing tricks on me?
“You got it, baby girl.”
Yeah, he really said that.
Oh. My.
And then something that I’ve never experienced happened. Sure, it was another thing that I’d read about, seen it being discussed in movies... and that thing was instant wetness between my thighs.
Holy. Shit.
I shook my head because now wasn’t the time for this.
Yes, it was nice, but I didn’t do this.
I didn’t get drunk somewhere unfamiliar. I didn’t sit for hours and ramble on about things to a complete stranger. I didn’t fall asleep somewhere that I’ve never been before. And I damn sure didn’t stumble into someone’s shower.
I winced.
I peeked around the shower curtain, and seeing that the bathroom was empty, I stepped out and grabbed the towels.
One went around my hair, and then I used the other to dry off.
The clothes I had on this morning were still there.
And seeing them, I recalled what happened last night.
He had given them to me after I asked for something to change into.
Something in my heart seemed to do something funny.
Almost like his action had caused a hole in my heart to start to fill with something, and then the hole was no more.
Huh.
That was weird.
Shaking my head at the fact that I just thought all of that, I got dressed.
Then I towel-dried my hair and used my fingers to comb through it.
Then, wondering if Grey was still here, I asked, “Grey?”
His response came immediately, “Yeah, baby girl?”
Oh, damn.
Again.
I clenched my thighs together to try and stave off the feeling, and when that didn’t help, I tried to think about something else, anything else.
Because I just met this man. What kind of woman was I if I got all hot and bothered for someone I didn’t know?
I sighed.
Well shit.
I licked my upper row of teeth and cringed. Gah, I hated not brushing my teeth first thing in the morning.
“Do you have an extra toothbrush?” I called out.
“Nope. Use mine. Be fine.” He said.
I did just that.
And felt my inner self squee.
The handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on is letting me use his toothbrush.
Chill, Kimber. Chill.
After I was done and took one look in the mirror, knowing this was the best it was going to get, I opened the door.
Seeing Grey sitting on the edge of his bed, his eyes were on me immediately.
Sea green.
Sea green like the perfect water in New Zealand when we went there for vacation years ago.
They were mesmerizing, like the water there. Perfect. Life-altering.
Why did he have to look so good?
That grey hair, the perfect lips, the tight-fitted navy blue tee, and the loose-fitting jeans.
“You think I’m handsome?” he asked.
I felt my face pale, “What?”
He winked, “Last night. You called me handsome. That’s what you think?”
“When did I say that exactly?” I asked.
He grinned, “Does it matter?”
I shook my head, then dropped it.
He chuckled, “Kimber, babe, eyes on me, yeah?”
I sighed, then lifted my head.
The moment he had my eyes, he shared, “Glad you think I’m handsome, baby girl. As long as you keep thinking that I’ll be golden. Yeah?”
Then, for some stupid reason, I blurted, “I don’t think you're handsome. I think you're gorgeous.”
Alcohol. Hangover. Loosened inhibitions.
Yeah. We’ll blame it on that.
A slow smile spread across his face, “That right?”
I shrugged.
He threw his head back and laughed.
He shouldn’t have done that.
Because at the sight of his throat... my tongue... his skin... that vein... I had to squeeze my thighs together a-freaking-gain.
This man was lethal.
“I need to go,” I rushed out.
He shook his head.
I lifted a brow, “Why not?”
“Cause I’m sure you got a headache and a queasy stomach after last night. And I’m gonna feed you,” he said as he stood up.
“Umm, you don’t have to do that,” I said.
“Don’t have to. But I’m fucking going to.” He said.
I crossed my arms over my chest and asked, “Do you always get your way?”
He chuckled as he stepped closer to me, and when he did, I inhaled.
Oh. My.
Musk. Irish spring. And something that had to be all Grey.
I wanted to step closer, bury my face in his chest, and breathe in deeply.
Apparently... I wasn’t the only one, because I just watched his chest expand with a large inhale of breath.
As I looked up in his eyes, he winked, “Like that, you smell like me, baby girl.”
Fuck.
I narrowed my eyes up at him.
Then I asked, “Do you have to be so tall?”
He grinned then licked his bottom lip, “Think about it this way, I’ll be there to reach the high shit that you can’t.”
“You’ll be there, huh?” I asked.
He stepped even closer and then nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”
Before I could articulate a response to that, he reached around to his back pocket and pulled out a blue and white baseball cap.
Then the fucker put it on backward.
Backward.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus in a manger.
“Let’s go get you fed. Yeah?”
And at the sight of him with that backward baseball cap, all I could do was nod.
So that’s what I did.