21. Roxie
ROXIE
Make me feel something good.
“Fuck, that was rough.”
I stare out the passenger window of Addison’s vehicle.
We just left Rae at the LTMC clubhouse with her mom and sister.
When I told her about Saint, she broke down, begging me to tell her I was lying.
Of course, I couldn’t do that. What I could do was hold her while she cried, so I did.
My borrowed hoodie is wet, and my heart is in pieces.
“Yeah,” I agree quietly.
Addison reaches across the console and squeezes my hand. “She’ll be okay, Roxie. It’s going to be hard, and she’ll have days where living seems impossible, but with time, she’ll start to move forward and heal.”
I scoff. “Is that what you would do if Crow died?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. A life without him… It’s unimaginable.”
“Exactly.”
Silence surrounds us for a few minutes, and I think about Saint and Rae. Shit, they were so in love. He’d happily have given his life for her, but to give it because of me… It’s not right.
“So,” Addison says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You and Screamer, huh?”
“There is no me and Screamer,” I say.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“We don’t even know each other.”
“Let me ask you a question.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “How would you feel if that had been Screamer and not Saint?”
I contemplate how to answer that. The truth is, I don’t know. An image of Screamer lying on the road with lifeless eyes flashes in my mind, and I shudder.
You do know.
All of my arguments about us barely knowing each other, all of my fear and doubt and trust issues melt away.
I’d be devastated if Screamer died. How I got to this point, I don’t have a fucking clue.
Maybe it started when he told me about Ally.
Or maybe it was when he asked me who broke my ribs because at that moment, I knew he cared enough to look beyond the surface, despite having just met me.
“Roxie?” Addison prods.
“Sad,” I say. “I’d be sad.”
The rest of the drive passes by in a blur. When we reach the clubhouse, I spot my brother’s bike, as well as Bear’s. The rest of LTMC seems to have left.
Addison and I walk inside, and I immediately scan the room for Screamer. Relief washes over me when I spot him at the bar with Crow and my brother. As if linked by an invisible tether, he turns, and his eyes land on me.
He sets down his beer and closes the distance between us.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Addison says before I can answer, and she crosses the room to Crow.
“Answer me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”
I burst into tears, shaking my head. “No.”
Before I know what’s happening, Screamer scoops me into his arms and carries me to his room. He kicks the door shut behind him and sets me on the bed. Then he straightens and stares down at me.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Even when you’re crying.” The sound that passes my lips at his assessment is a cross between a snort and a laugh. “Tell me what to do,” he pleads.
I rub my eyes, and my breath hitches. “Hold me?”
He doesn’t hesitate. Lifting me with one arm, he yanks his comforter back with the other, and then he sets me back down and slides in next to me. I curl into his side, and he wraps me in his embrace.
“How’s Rae?” he asks after several minutes.
“Broken.”
“Understandable.”
I nod and push myself back so I can look him in the eye. “I don’t know how she’s going to get through this.”
“She will. She’s got a lot of people looking out for her.”
“I know.”
“What about you? Will you get through it?”
“I…” I clear my throat. “Will you help me?”
“I’ll do anything,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Anything?”
“Anything,” he confirms.
I slide my hands under his shirt and up his chest. Screamer tenses, and his skin ripples under my touch.
“Make me feel something good.”
He grabs my hands to stop my movements. “Are you sure about this, Roxie? Because once we cross that bridge, there’s no going back.”
Am I sure? No. Am I going to do it anyway? Hell, yes.
“I’m sure.”
Screamer climbs out of the bed, pulling me to my feet with him. His heated gaze travels the length of my body, from my head to my toes and back again. “You look fucking incredible in my clothes.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks, but there’s no time for embarrassment. Screamer grabs the hem of the hoodie and tugs it over my head. Next, he pushes the sweatpants over my hips, exposing my green lace thong.
“Goddamn, you’re beautiful,” he breathes. “Every inch of you is perfection.”
Dropping to his knees, he tucks his thumbs into the waistband of my panties and slides them down my legs to pool at my feet. Then he’s on me, feasting on my clit and pussy like a starving man.
My legs shake, so he urges me back until I hit the bed. I fall to my ass, and he grabs my ankles to dangle my limbs over his shoulders. All the while, he doesn’t stop flicking his tongue over my clit.
“Ah, fuck,” I moan.
“That’s it, sweetheart.” He brings his hand up and shoves a finger inside my cunt, then another. “Come for me,” he orders, and my orgasm crashes over me like a breaking wave in the ocean.
As my body begins to calm, Screamer stands and begins to strip. My eyes are heavy, hooded, and saliva fills my mouth at the sight of him. The tattoo on his chest catches my attention, and I reach out to trace my fingers over it.
“Python’s work,” he tells me. “Got it after Ally and my parents were killed.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It is,” he agrees as he pushes me to my back and climbs on top of me to straddle my hips. “But I don’t want to talk about that.”
I lock eyes with him. “Me either.”
Screamer dips his head to capture a nipple between his teeth. He nips then licks to soothe the sting. He repeats this several times before he trails kisses up my chest and over my chin.
I cup his cheeks and pull him to my mouth, kissing him with feral need. Thinking becomes impossible, which is exactly what I want.
Breaking apart to catch my breath, I move my lips to his ear. “Fuck me, Screamer,” I whisper.
He reaches between us and grabs his hard length to line up with my entrance. My pussy is soaked, and when he pushes inside, I swear it weeps with joy. He wasn’t kidding about his eight inches.
“You take me so well, Roxie,” he pants.
We find a rhythm, and with every one of his thrusts, I lift my hips to meet his. My body stretches to accommodate his length and girth, and the way he fills me feels exquisite.
“Make me come, Ben,” I beg. “Please make me come again.”
“Say that again.”
“Ben,” I say, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “Fuck, Ben.”
He slides his hand down my stomach and presses his thumb against my clit to rub hard and fast circles. My breathing is ragged, my flesh is slick with sweat, and I’m loving every second.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he groans. “Come with me.”
His cock swells, and his movements become jerky. We shatter, clinging to one another as if our lives depend on it. The orgasm seems to go on forever, but eventually, Screamer rolls to the side, sliding out of my slick heat, and pulls me into his side.
“Feel better?” he finally asks after he catches his breath.
His question brings the events of the day to the forefront of my mind. “Physically, yes. Emotionally, no.”
“Fair.”
Unable to stop it, I yawn, stretching my body as I do. “I’m so damn tired.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Get some sleep.”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?”
“Promise, sweetheart.”