Chapter 8 - Rachel
The knocking pulls me from sleep. Three sharp raps that make me jolt upright, heart racing before I remember where I am.
Safe. I'm safe. This is the Savage Riders clubhouse, not the Eagles' prison.
But old instincts die hard, and I'm already pulling the sheet up to cover myself before my brain fully catches up.
I tried to sleep with clothes, but the room was too hot and I was already drenched in sweat from the nightmare.
I'd stripped down to my underwear sometime around dawn, desperate for relief.
Now I'm sitting here in nothing but a ratty sports bra and the same panties that I've been wearing for three days, and someone's at my door.
"Come in," I call out, one hand gripping the sheet, the other curled into a fist. Ready. Always ready.
The door opens and it's him.
Shadow.
Fucking handsome Shadow in nothing but a tight black shirt that clings to every muscle, black jeans that hang low on his hips, and his hair still wet and slicked back from his forehead. Water droplets trickle down his face and neck, disappearing beneath his collar.
He looks good. Too good. Like he stepped out of some biker fantasy I didn't know I had.
"What do you want?" I ask, trying to sound defensive instead of flustered.
"Promised I'd check on you when you woke up." His voice is rough, like he hasn't been awake long either. "Wanted to make sure you were okay."
I stare at him. He actually came. He actually kept his promise.
I'm so used to promises being forgotten, to people saying they'll be there and then disappearing when it's convenient. Marcus promised he'd love me forever. My parents promised they'd always have time for me. The world has taught me that promises are just pretty lies.
But Shadow is standing in my doorway at—I glance at the clock—seven in the fucking morning, because he said he would be.
"I'm fine," I manage. "Just hot. Couldn't sleep wearing clothes."
It takes him a moment to process what I said. His eyes were on my face, avoiding looking anywhere else, but now I see the exact second he realizes I'm clutching a sheet to my chest because I'm in my underwear.
His whole body goes rigid. His jaw clenches. And when he speaks, he actually stumbles over his words.
"I'll—I should—give you time to get dressed. I can wait outside."
"It's fine," I say, surprised by my own boldness. "You can stay anyway. After all, if the Iron Eagles saw me like this, what's one more man seeing me? Won't make any difference."
He shakes his head slowly, his gray eyes intense.
"You shouldn't think like that," he says, his voice low and fierce. "Only a man worthy of it should see you like this. And those Eagles weren't worthy of shit."
Worthy. The word makes anger flare in my chest.
"Worthy?" I laugh bitterly. "Fuck worthiness. I'm nothing special, Shadow. No need to pretend otherwise."
Before I can second-guess myself, I stand up, letting the sheet drop. I'm standing there in my shitty underwear, my breasts jiggling as I move, my legs unshaven, my body curved in all the ways magazines say it shouldn't be.
I grab two rolls of my belly, holding them out like evidence in a trial.
"Is this worth something?" I demand, my voice sharp with pain and defiance. "I'm aware I'm chubby. I know I'm not what men like. So why would my body be worth anything? There's a reason my ex-boyfriend cheated, even though I did everything for him."
Shadow moves so fast I don't have time to react. He crosses the room in three strides and grabs both my wrists, pulling my hands away from my stomach.
His grip is firm but not painful. His face is inches from mine. My breasts are right there, barely contained by the sports bra, but his eyes never leave my face. Never look down.
"You're a bigger idiot than I thought," he says, and there's heat in his voice. "If you think your weight is a good reason to be kidnapped or cheated on, you know nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing."
I try to pull away, but he doesn't budge. His hands are like iron around my wrists.
"Then what is it?" I demand, tears burning my eyes. "If it's not my weight, what's my problem? Why do bad things keep happening to me?"
"That's just the way the world is," Shadow says, and his voice gentles slightly. "Sometimes the best people suffer the most. But I truly believe better things will come. That you'll be rewarded for everything you've gone through."
I'm crying now, sobbing and chuckling at the same time because the contradiction is too much.
"I never expected you to believe in things like karma," I manage through my tears.
"I need to believe it," he whispers. "Need to believe that if I'm better, the world around me will be better too. That maybe I'll feel less guilty for all the bad things I've done."
"You saved a bunch of women last night," I tell him, my voice thick. "The world better reward you for that."
His eyes soften, and for the first time since entering the room, they drop from my face. They roam over my body slowly, taking in every inch of me. His pupils dilate. His eyes widen.
"The world already is," he says, his voice rough.
I can't breathe. Can't think. Can't process what's happening.
"You can't be for real," I whisper. "You can't really like what you're seeing."
"Why not?" He steps closer, still holding my wrists. "Because you don't like yourself? Does that mean nobody will? Because from where I stand, I'm seeing a fucking curvy goddess right before me."
"You're lying." The words come out desperate. "Men like you don't look twice at women like me. It has to be a trap."
"I'm not fucking lying." His voice is almost a growl now. "I fucking love your body. Love the curves. Love every inch of what I'm seeing. And I feel like an idiot for even having to say it."
"Then prove it," I challenge, expecting him to back down. To admit this is all just words.
Instead, Shadow lets go of my wrists. His hands move to his jeans, unbuckling them. He pushes them down his hips, kicking them aside.
And then he grips his bulge through his briefs.
Holy fuck.
It's massive. Thick and hard and straining against the fabric. And he's not embarrassed. If anything, he seems emboldened, stepping closer and asking, "Is being rock hard in front of you proof enough?"
I can't stop staring. My mouth has gone dry. My pussy clenches, and I feel myself getting wetter by the second. The thin string of my panties rubs against my clit as I unconsciously press my thighs together, and it's almost too much.
Shadow isn't saying anything now. He's just standing there, looking devastatingly hot with his right hand gripping his massive bulge, watching me with those intense gray eyes.
"That's... that's proof enough," I finally manage.
He smirks and reaches for his jeans.
"Stop," I blurt out.
He freezes, looking at me with raised eyebrows. "Why?"
"Are you serious? You think you can just show me your bulge and that's it?"
"You wanted proof," he says, and there's a challenge in his voice. "Now you have it. If you want more, you have to prove it too."
Is he fucking serious? Is this some sort of test?
Fine. He wants to push things? I'll push them further.
I reach behind my back and unclasp my sports bra, letting it fall to the floor. My breasts bounce free, heavy and full, nipples already hard from arousal.
Shadow's cock throbs visibly in his briefs, the fabric now completely tented and straining.
He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. "You look fucking gorgeous. There are so many things I want to do right now. But we're both vulnerable, and I'm not sure if this is our biggest mistake or the best thing we've ever done."
"I don't know either," I admit, my voice shaking. "But I already feel stupid standing here half-naked, so I might as well go all the way."
He chuckles, and there's something playful in it. "The woman I met last night would be a lot ruder."
"Shut up," I start to say, but then his mouth is on mine.
It's not forced at all. It's passionate, demanding, hungry. His hands go straight to my ass, fingers digging into my flesh like now that he's close, he doesn't want to go anywhere else.
I'm gasping for air when he finally pulls back, my hands on both sides of his face.
"We might have met just a few hours ago," he says, his gray eyes burning into mine. "But I'm already impressed by you. And I want to impress you too."
He guides me backward to bed, and I go willingly. I don't want to be in control. For once, I want to let go and trust that the man will treat me right. That I don't need to always be on the defensive.
And I'm putting all of that trust in Shadow. A man I met last night.
He lays me down on the bed, his body hovering over mine. Then he starts kissing a path down from my neck, crossing the valleys between my breasts. One hand stays on my breast, pinching and rolling my nipple between his fingers while he moves south.
I'm already panting, my body arching into his touch.
He kisses around the edges of my panties, teasing, testing my eagerness. And fuck, I'm so eager. I'm dripping wet, and I can feel it soaking through the fabric.
"Please," I breathe. "Shadow, please."
He looks up at me, and that smirk is back, wicked and knowing. Then he simply pulls the string of my panties to the side and buries his face between my legs.
"Oh fuck!" The words tear out of me as his tongue runs along my slit, hot and wet and perfect.
He eats me out like a man starving, his tongue swirling around my clit before diving back down to lap at my entrance. He grips my thighs, holding them open as I arch off the bed, my hands flying to grip the sheets.
"Shadow, oh God, Shadow—"
His tongue is everywhere: flicking my clit, fucking into me, dragging along every sensitive nerve ending until I'm writhing beneath him.
My eyes roll back as he focuses on my clit, sucking it between his lips while his tongue works magic.
I've never felt anything like this. Never had a man worship my pussy with such single-minded intensity.
"I'm going to—fuck, I'm going to come," I gasp, my thighs trembling.
Shadow doesn't stop. If anything, he doubles down, his tongue moving faster, his grip on my thighs tightening.
And then I'm there, falling over the edge, my whole body convulsing as pleasure crashes through me.