by M. N. Forgy
Having cabin fever and with Shadow in the shower, I slip on a robe to go out onto the patio.
I let out a squeal when greedy hands grab my from behind, dragging me to the bed. My body comes crashing down on Shadow's.
“Mmmm,” he breathes in. “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice, sexy and deep, vibrates off my neck as he nuzzles his face deep within.
“Shadow, my body needs rest,” I laugh.
“Rest is for the weak.”
“We only have today left; let’s go eat breakfast on the deck, go swimming,” I whisper against his temple.
“Mmmm, fine,” he says, kissing all over my face. I laugh and start heading for the door again.
Shadow grabs his trunks and shuffles into them, his bronzed skin looking immaculate. His muscles bulge and flex as he ties the string on them. My tongue darts out and licks my bottom lip, he is sexy as sin.
“You keep looking at me like that, I’m keeping you in here for two more days.”
How I have the urge to keep going after two days of sex is beyond me. Then again, looking at him, no woman could tell him no.
“I think you might be going for a world record if you do that,” I reply jokingly, walking toward the dresser.
Shadow chuckles and grabs me before I'm out of reach.
“Well, I’m always up for a challenge,” he says arrogantly, sliding his hand down my belly. My body arches into his touch; I can’t help but be weak when it comes to him.
Shadow leans in and bites my collarbone, making me throw my leg around his waist.
“Up for a challenge, huh?” I whisper, my arousal making it hard to speak.
Shadow pulls back and looks at my expression; amused.
“I bet you can’t keep your hands off of me for the rest of the day,” I taunt, knowing he won’t take the deal and I don’t want him to anyway.
“Hands only”? he asks, his voice borderline sneaky. I could see him now fucking me with no hands; he wouldn’t be breaking the rules and he would be proud of that.
“As in, no having sex with me all day,” I say, making the terms more clear.
Shadow sucks in his bottom lip and looks to the floor deep in thought.
“Deal,” he says, reconnecting our gaze, his words surprising me. Shit, how will I live a day without him touching me? I wasn’t thinking when I made this deal.
I open the drawer with that, wondering how I am going to keep to my own terms, when my eyes spot the bikini I had as a surprise. Maybe getting Shadow to lose this challenge would be more fun than I thought.
I grab the bikini and go into the bathroom, afraid that if he sees what I am putting on he will make me take it off before he is slammed with the full effect.
I slip the top on; the thin little triangles cover my breasts, but barely. I reach for the bottoms, slide my legs in, and tie the strings at my hips.
“I’m going to get a drink, babe.” I hear Shadow call out. I hurry and open the door and walk out, throwing my hair over my shoulder casually.
“Huh? Yeah, okay,” I say, acting as if I don’t look like a piece of fuck-me candy.
“What. The. Fuck.” Shadow bellows, his mouth hung open in astonishment.
“You play dirty, Bitch,” he says, sexually. He walks over and brushes his fingers across the material on my breast. I look down and watch.
Shadow smirks. “Mine looks fucking sexy as hell in leather.” He continues admiring me .
When I saw the black-as-sin leather bikini, I knew I had to have it. I was sure it would buckle Shadow at the knees.
He grabs me by the hips with a growl and throws me on the bed.
“What about the challenge?” I plead. He can’t give in this easy; I have all kinds of taunts and teases in my head.
“Bets off”! he says, pulling his trunks off and releasing his massive erection. It was so hard it looked like it would explode.
“But-“
Shadow pulls my bottoms to the side, not taking them off, just giving himself enough room and slams his erection into my wet heat quickly. My head is thrown back as his hand slides to the small of my back lifting my torso slightly off the bed. Arching my back gives him that angle where he rubs my g-spot and he goes in deep.
After another round of hot, mind-blowing sex, I lay next to Shadow panting and staring. He has been so playful lately, will he go back to being an ass when we get back to the club? I know he will never leave the club and, to be honest, I don’t want him to, we just need to find a balance. I wonder if he always wanted to be part of a motorcycle club.
“What?” he asks.
“I was just curious, what did you want to be when you grew up?” I play with the skull being crushed tattoo on his back, the club's insignia.
Shadow sits there for a second, pondering. “I wanted to be like my dad,” he says with sorrow, making me regret my question.
“What about you?” he asks.
I smile at him, knowing my answer will shock him.
“A ballerina.”
Shadow snorts, making me laugh.
“So why didn’t you?” he asks seriously.
I shake my head. The thought of why I wasn’t a ballerina causes my chest to constrict with anger. I sigh loudly.
“I started ballet young; I loved it. I did it almost every day. As I got older and my mother became the bitch she is today, it became my escape. I felt like a princess, ya know?” I look at Shadow, his lips turning into a smirk. ”As I got older, I got good, too, really good. My instructor wanted me to help teach younger children, maybe even get a scholarship. When I told my mother, she was anything but excited. She told me acting like a princess wasn’t a career choice for her daughter and to stay in school. She made me not only decline the offer, but drop out. She said I needed to focus on school. She drained my bank account so I couldn’t pay for the classes anymore, in case I tried to go behind her back.” A tear escaped my swollen eyes as I retold the hurtful memory. I remember it as if it was yesterday, but in reality it was only a few years ago.
“If it wasn’t for your mother, would you still be doing it today?” Shadow asks quietly, his thumb brushing off the lonely tear.
I look into his blue eyes. “Absolutely.” There is no doubt in my mind I would still be doing ballet if it wasn’t for her. She would never listen to what I wanted, even if it made me happy. She wanted the status of what others would think of her, even if it made me miserable.
Shadow shakes his head in agreement, his thumb that brushed my tear away now rubbing his bottom lip.
“Your mom is gone, when we get back you're starting ballet again.” His tone is serious and dominant.
Before I can tell him no, he interrupts me.
“You’re not getting out of this, I can see how much passion you have for this. She’s not here to weigh you down anymore. You’re doing this and you’re going to be amazing, I can’t wait to see you teach little girls how to be princesses.” He says every word with a big goofy grin.
I can’t help the smile that creeps up on my face, his caring words infuse themselves into my soul.
“We leave tomorrow,” I state. I don’t want to go back to the club and the danger of Shadow's escaped mother.
“Yeah, probably going to leave early. I bet they need help setting up for the after party.” Shadow sits up on the bed, his hair sticking out in all directions. The man is more sexy when he has bed hair than ever.
“For the bike rally thing?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s usually fun. But there have been problems in the past,” he says, running his hands back and forth through his hair.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, cops are usually swarming the place, waiting for a biker to fuck up; get a chance of probable cause to dig deeper; rival clubs going at it and shit,” he says, rubbing his hands over the stubble on his cheeks. It has grown out a little over the last day or so and gives his face a darker look.
“Nothing has happened in a while, but stay close to me,�
� he says, eyeing me .
“Thanks for bringing me here, Shadow. It really has been great.” It has been a big step for us, getting away, but I still need to know more. I need to know everything about Shadow.
“What you said you would tell me, are you ready?” I state, frustrated.
Shadow climbs from the bed throwing the sheets off him and onto my lap. His cute butt cheeks greet me, causing me to stare.
He grabs some boxers out of the drawer and slides them on, blocking his cute buttocks from my view.
I look up and see him glaring at me, trapping me with his intense stare.
He breaks his glare and looks off toward the beach.
“I kill people,” he mutters.
I know that. I saw how he killed Ricky without a second thought. He told me he killed people, was that what he was so afraid to tell me.
“Yeah, I know that,” I respond.
“No, I mean I kill people for a living,” he replies, his tone alarming.
My heart stops beating briefly. “What?” I gasp, in dismay.
“What, not the prince charming story you wanted to hear? You wanted to know this shit, so here you are. I kill people for money!” he shouts at me, angry.
“Like a hit man?” I ask, my voice timid.
“I guess you can call me that,” he says, sitting on the bed. His elbows rest on his knees as he rubs his thumb back and forth over his bottom lip.
“Why?” I ask.
He turns and looks at me. He seems to be gathering his thoughts.
“Growing up the way I did, I had to learn how to ignore things to live. I eventually became numb, just a shell of a person.” He pauses, staring at me before continuing.
“When I joined the MC, Bobby and I were instructed to kill a potential witness, a rat. Bobby wussed out, so I did it. When I killed that person was when I realized how numb I had become over the years. Suddenly, I felt alive, raw and powerful for the first time, finally in control of something.
“Bobby and I were sent to take out a lot of threats after that. When I would kill, for a brief second, I would feel something other than the numbness that had become my tomb. The recoil brought back a high that no drug or pussy could offer. It became an addiction.” His vivid blue eyes go gray. “I was good at it and I enjoyed it.”
Shadow pauses, looking at me for something, but I am dumbstruck with the information he is giving me. He enjoys killing people; his dark shadow is something I can never compare myself to.
“Word got out how good I was and I did jobs for local clubs. They said I was the kid that lives within his Shadow, no soul, no remorse. Eventually, word got out further and I did side jobs for civilians.” He looks at me, his eyes penetrating down to my soul.
I don't know what to say; he is a hit man. I didn’t think for a million years that the man I love would enjoy killing people and get paid to do it. That it would be the only way he could escape his demons. If I feel deep down, I feel sorry for him. I feel like I could stab Cassie a million times for what she did to him, what she has made him.
“Say something,” he says, snapping me from my thoughts.
“That’s how you’re so rich?” I ask, in a trance.
“What? I’m no millionaire. I get paid; I get paid well. I don’t use much of it, so it has piled up over the years,” he says, standing.
“When was the last time you did it?” I ask.
“Not since before you showed up; I don't feel the need to. You bring me out of my darkness. When I tried to push you away, I felt the need to do it; helpless and out of control.” He walks up to me and grabs my cheeks and looks into my eyes.
“So, you won’t do it anymore?” I ask, hopeful. Shadow sighs and runs his hands through his hair back and forth before looking at me.
“I won’t do it out of the club anymore, no. What Bull and the club need of me, is out of my control,” he says. I shake my head in knowing, as my eyes sting to hold back tears.
I look up at him, and see him staring at me, needing me to accept him. I love Shadow, even if it comes with a darkness. Who am I to judge, I have dark shadows as well. Who’s to say mine aren’t as messed up as his.
“Why didn’t you trust me to tell me this sooner? Were you afraid I would run to the cops or leave you?” I question.
Shadow shrugs.
“Kind of both,” he answers truthfully.
Given my mother’s history of running off, I can see why he would get that assumption. Truth be told, if I were not completely smitten with Shadow, I probably would have run far away from him before.
I look around at the house and the clothes he bought; all paid for by blood. The blood of innocent people?
“What kind of people did you have to kill?” I ask. His jaw ticks, he’s getting frustrated with my questions.
“I don't know. I never asked why I was hired, I just did it and got paid,” he says sternly before looking at me.
“Well, there was one time I asked why. When I received my info on the hit, I saw it was on a female minor. I have never had to kill a minor.” Shadow stops and looks at me. I can tell he is uneasy about giving me this kind of information. I take his hands, so big they swallow mine, and give a reassuring squeeze.
“You can trust me,” I whisper.
“When I asked the reasoning for the termination, I was told the girl was a babysitter the family had hired since the child was born. One day the girl was caught hitting the baby. It was so bad the child was sent to the hospital. She hit that baby to make it stop crying, they said.” Shadow looks up at me, darkness swimming in his eyes.
“I took the bitch out with pleasure,” he says.
I look back at him, in understanding. If my child was hurt under someone else’s watch and was a minor looking to slide under the system for her actions, I would have hired Shadow, too.
“Don’t look at me like I’m some fucking hero, I doubt everyone I killed was in the wrong,” he says, snapping me from my fantasy.
“Look, I know it’s a lot to take in. I would understand if you wanted to leave-“
I cut Shadow off. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say quickly.
“I was going to say, if you wanted to leave, too damn bad, you’re my Ol' Lady now.” His lips come up into a sinister smirk, reminding me I am his, until he says otherwise.
We arrive at the apartment after our week of luxurious bliss and sinister truths to find it trashed and foul smelling.
“Oh, my God, what’s that smell?” I ask, covering my face with the crook of my arm.
Shadow comes in behind me without luggage and winces at the smell.
“That would be Bobby, man is a fucking pig,” he mumbles, not pleased.
“Bobby!” Shadow yells, kicking through the trash on the floor.
“Bobby!” he yells again.
“I don’t think he’s here,” I say, trying to make a path to the kitchen.
I hear Shadow growl and curse as he makes his way to our bedroom, earning a chuckle from me.
I reach under the counter, pull out a garbage bag and start picking up trash.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Shadow demands.
“Someone has to clean this up.” I answer as I pick up an empty pizza box.
“No, he’s cleaning this shit up.” Shadow walks over and rips the trash bag from my hands. “He must be at the club, let’s head over there. I’m sure Babs will need your help and the whole gang should be there. Tonight is the bike show,” he says, eyeing the apartment.
He looks over at me, “You think you can ride with your ribs all messed up?”
I look down at what I’m wearing; a shiny, gold sequined top that falls mid-thigh with black leggings and gold sandals. Not exactly something I would pick to wear for bike riding, but I've missed that feeling of freedom and I don't care to change.
“Yes, my ribs are fine!” I say excitedly.
“Good, I miss my bike,” he says, grabbing two helmets off the couch.
We head downstair
s and get on his bike. Within minutes we are hitting the highway. The sun’s shining and the wind is warm. I should have grabbed my leather jacket for after the sun goes down, but I haven’t been able to find it since before our trip. I hope I left it at the clubhouse.
Shadow curves his arm behind him to rest his hand on my thigh. My body screams alive at his claim.
When we pull up, the courtyard is nothing but a sea of bikes, more than usual. Shadow backs his bike into its usual spot and helps me off. There's loud music blaring from the clubhouse, kids running around with a basketball, and the smell of BBQ in the air.
“What is all this?” I ask. Did we miss the bike show?
“Looks like a pre-party before the after party,” Shadow says, smiling. “This party is more family oriented, the after won’t be.”
He takes my helmet, looks me over and frowns.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing, it’s just you need a property patch. You look available, like a sweetbutt, and I don’t want to have to beat another brother's ass for looking at you.” He runs his hands through his hair.
“A sweetbutt?” I'm totally confused.
“Yeah, like a club whore,” he says, seriously.
“Did you just call me a whore?” Now I'm offended. My mouth is gaping open like an idiot.
“No, I said you look like one.”
“That’s much better!” I say, sarcastically. I can’t believe he just said I look like a whore.
“Shadow! Welcome back, brother,” Bobby says, walking toward us from the house. He has a blond girl laced to his side who is wearing a tiny black skirt and a too small black tank top. You can see her hot pink bra covering more of her tits than the tank. She tops it off with fake jewelry and slutty pink heels.
“You look pissed,” Bobby says to me.
“Sorry, that tends to happen when I'm called a whore,” I say, looking off in the distance.
Bobby looks at Shadow with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s not like that; I said she looks like a sweetbutt.” Shadow sounds irritated.
Bobby laughs. “You look stunning as usual, Dani,” he says and gets a glare from his arm candy.