by M. Merin
“Huh, yeah; got a couple myself.” He shrugs and I feel like shit; I suddenly remember closing one of his wounds like that when he first got patched.
“She’s got one on her side, fresh enough that she got it since her husband died.”
“I’m in, whatever you need.” Gunner swears. “I’ll crash at your place with her dog until she’s out of the hospital, ok?”
“Maybe a bit longer than that, too.” I stand, needing to get back to her; it’s been too long and now that I know the burden she’s been carrying, I want to hold her more than ever. “I want eyes on her until we know what else is coming.”
Before opening the door, Gunner turns back to me. “You know, I liked her pretty quick. Never sexual; just, she’s good people, you know?” I nod back to him when he pauses.
“Now, I fucking love her. She got justice for her old man. She’s not like us. She was straight-laced, y’know? Had some desk job. But she went fucking rogue and did what needed doing. Whatever you need, Boss. Whatever it takes to make sure she’ll be safe.” Gunner vows.
I clap him on the back and follow him down the hall; Gunner doesn’t talk like this so the knot in my throat makes it hard for me to respond.
“So, Boss?”
“Yeah?” I finally manage to get a word out.
“Her scar, you have seen her fully naked then?” Asshole’s got a huge shit eating grin on his face.
“Shut the fuck up, Gunner.” I try not to laugh as he breaks the tension.
“Nice job, Boss.” He throws over his shoulder as he heads to his wheels.
Chapter 11
Bree
The next time I wake up, I’m in a puddle of drool and I barely recognize either man in my room. The names Connal and Jake come to mind but the morphine has made me hazy. I frown at both of them before falling back to sleep.
Next, I wake up to Flint watching me intently. “Water?” I croak out.
He leans forward with some. “Feel any better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“You know, I never asked you; tell me about your husband?” Flint shifts in his seat. “What was he like?”
“Funny, smart, grouchy.” I start, enjoying my small sips of water. “Not grouchy with me, but he had a low threshold for idiots.” Flint’s face splits into a grin and I pause, trying to figure out how to put Alex into words.
“He spoiled me; if he knew I really wanted something, he got it for me. I had been single for so long, having someone who cared so much was always surprising to me. We both had tempers, but when one of us was pissed the other would cool them down; not try to incite anything worse, you know?”
He nods at that.
“I loved him so much, Flint. So much and then he was killed.” I am beyond tears at this point, but am overwhelmed and almost grateful that Flint asked about him. Finding relief in talking about Alex after so long; at keeping memories of him alive.
“Randy isn’t on you, Bree.” Flint leans forward to cup my cheek. “Wrench looked into him. He was on his own collision path. He wasn’t here to start over. He was here to hide out. Light a candle for him if you want, but don’t lose any sleep over him.”
I nod, knowing it won’t be that simple. “Has the doctor been by?”
“Yes, I’m bringing you home tomorrow.” He states in his usual take charge way. I think about debating this with him but have to admit defeat at the thought of running Ragnar up and down stairs for a while, let alone working. Flint gives me a moment to digest this before adding, “You’ll stay with me until you’re better and I have a guy helping Rusty out at the bar.”
“Thank you.”
“None of that now. I’m tired though; can I lie beside you again?” I smile and shift a bit to make room for him.
He spoons in behind me after kicking off his boots. “Just think, Bree; I can give you sponge baths when I get you home!”
“Dirty. Old. Man.” I say, trying, and failing not to laugh at the overly creepy tone of voice he used.
“Hmmm,” He hums. “And I get to wash your hair.”
“Oh, God!”
“What Bree?! Did I hurt you?” He leans up to see my face.
“No, the thought of you rummaging through my underwear drawer if I send you home for my things is pretty darn painful though!” He barks out a laugh at my teasing.
“Do you actually have underwear, Doll? I haven’t found you in any yet.” He laughs, running a hand down along my side and I groan after I accidentally shrug my wounded shoulder. Strangers going through my things creep me out either way.
“Tell me about the MC, Flint. About ‘Ol’ Ladies’ and stuff?” I ask and surprise myself when I stay awake listening to him.
Flint takes things neatly in hand the next day. Once I prove to the doctor I can walk a little and pee on my own, I get wheeled out after paying a king’s ransom.
He drives me to his house and settles me on the couch before Gunner brings Ragnar in from the backyard. My dog goes nuts for a time but eventually, he settles down and curls into me; instinctively knowing I need comfort. Flint heads to my apartment for my things, leaving Gunner to babysit.
“Gunner?” I call out to him as he makes our lunch.
“Yeah, Pretty Lady?”
I wait until he walks back into the living room with our plates. “Thank you.”
“Hush, eat your lunch.” He grunts.
“You saved my life…”
“You didn’t have me arrested for dognapping, so we’re good.” He says in between bites. I can’t help but laugh at the serious expression on his face.
Ragnar knows I’m not well and for once doesn’t try to steal my food. I’m not very hungry but have noticed Gunner staring at the second half of my sandwich, so I opt to give it to the human instead of the canine.
“Gunner?” I ask hesitantly, nervous about my next question.
“Uh-huh?”
“Are you suffering from some life-threatening illness?” I say, stealing a glance at him from the corner of my eyes as I click through TV channels.
“Is that one of the rumors?” He grins at me. I’ve overheard about thirty different reasons why this man suddenly stopped touching women earlier in the year; months before I moved here.
“There are a slew out there, just wanted to make sure you aren’t dying.”
“I’m good, Pretty Lady.” He winks at me.
“I’m glad, Gunner.” I wink back. I have my own guess, but I won’t pry. I hand him the remote and drift in and out of sleep as he watches some show about sword making.
Gunner
Bree had barely stopped talking before she fell asleep. I’ve heard enough over the past few months to know everyone has an opinion on my celibacy. I like that Bree doesn’t push; but oddly, out of everyone I know, she’d be the one I tell.
I’d tell her all about the woman I can’t touch. Not yet anyway.
Flint
I get back to find Bree resting and Gunner watching over her. I tap him on the shoulder and motion outside, Ragnar jumps up to join us in the yard.
“Gimme a smoke, Brother.”
“Trying to quit,” Gunner shrugs. “Don’t have any on me.”
My jaw drops, Gunner’s been at a pack or two a day most of his life.
“Fuck, guess we’ll go for something stronger then.” I head back in for a bottle of Jameson and a couple glasses.
The first glass goes down quickly. We sit in silence until I’m nearly done with my second. “Anything you need to get off your chest, Gunner?”
“Nah, Boss. I’m good.”
“No women and no smoking, Gunner? If you weren’t still drinking with me I’d probably have to shoot you.” He sits quietly, watching me. We both know I could never get the drop on him.
When he doesn’t say anything further, I change to the current issue. “I know you’re building your business and have MC things to deal with, but I want to work it out that one of us is around here the next couple weeks. If anyone else is comin
g for her, I don’t think they’ll wait.”
“I agree and I’ll make it work; I know she’s important to you.” He smirks at me. “So where am I sleeping, Boss?”
“In the guest room; she’ll be in my bed,” I reply and Gunner starts laughing.
“Good luck with that.” He says after throwing back his whiskey.
“Fuck off.” I say, grinning back. Bree may have let me lay next to her these past two nights, but I know going forward will be a challenge.
*
“Back off, Flint! I can do this.” Bree snarls at me the next day.
“Baby, I’ve seen you naked. A few times.” I try to reason, but she tosses her sponge in my face. “Oh, good! So you will let me bathe you then?” I approach, waving it at her.
“Flint!”
“Jesus, Woman! If you pop a goddamn stitch I will take you back to the hospital.” I stand over her frowning until she starts laughing.
“Flint, I’ll let you wash my back and my hair, but please, leave me some dignity?” She pleads, looking up at me and I cave.
She’s sitting on the bench in my oversized shower with a robe around her. I’m in my boxers and a t-shirt and I drop to my knees rather than hover over her. “I’m worried about you, Bree; I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I just want to take care of you.”
In this moment, I see a shift in the eyes of this woman I want as my own. She simply nods before shedding her robe. I move it to the side and using the handheld spray, I reverently clean her. When I finish with her body and her hair, I help her stand. Before I can reach for her robe, she wraps her arms around me, fitting herself into my body. Right where she belongs, if she’d just admit it.
I gently pull back to kiss her forehead; as I start to lower myself to my knees, I pause to kiss the area right above the wound on her shoulder. Kneeling, I move my lips to the ill-patched knife wound on her side, over to the faint scars from her surgeries. Next, I kiss a milky patch of skin near the gunshot would below her hip. Turning my head, I rub my beard across her naked hood that hides her clit; getting a giggle from her.
“Always so smooth here, Doll,” I whisper, lightly kissing her naked, outer lips.
“Electrolysis.” She sighs, her fingers in my hair, gently massaging my scalp. I pull back from her.
“Fuck, Bree! A Brazilian electrolysis?!” My jaw is hanging open. “That’s hardcore.”
“I didn’t want to deal with it anymore,” She shrugs like it was a simple thing. “Take off your clothes, Flint. Let me see your body.”
I finally pull her robe around her shoulders before stripping and carrying her to my bed. Beside her, I lean back and let her study my body.
While her fingers trace my tattoos, she occasionally raises an eyebrow; wordlessly asking for one or another to be explained. She avoids the scaring I have from my own bullet and knife wounds until she’s done studying my ink. Then, copying my earlier motions, she kisses each scare before curling back into my body.
“Why haven’t you asked me about the Sanchez brothers’, Flint?” She quietly asks.
“Because you did what needed to be done, and when I put it together? That was the moment I absolutely knew I loved you.” I say, kissing her forehead. I guide her face up with a finger under her chin, looking into her eyes, willing her to see the love in mine. “Your strength, Bree; it’s amazing. Have you talked about it before?”
“Who else knows?” She asks as she shakes her head. Bree rubs her hands through my rough haircut as though it brings her comfort.
“Wrench and Gunner. Wrench tracked down the parts of the story that pieced it together. Gunner was already a fan of yours, but that pretty much made him a devotee.” I smile into the top of her still wet head.
“I was such a zombie after my husband died, Flint. I could barely get out of bed. I couldn’t, well, I’m really not a ‘forgive and forget’ type of gal. The rage I felt, Flint; it was like a living entity inside of me. I focused it.” She takes a deep breath before continuing.
“It took me so long to find him. Alex, I mean. I was alone for so long, and then we were together, almost constantly. Just in our own happy bubble, you know? Strangers would comment on how cute we were together.” I hold her close as she pauses. I tell myself that feeling jealous of a dead man is ridiculous but cannot help myself.
“I would kick him out of the house sometimes on a Saturday or Sunday; I could get stuff done then and I knew how much he liked to play poker. Win-Win, you know? We would still text all day. I was in bed already that night, waiting for him to let me know when he’d be heading home. The police came to notify me and bring me to him in the hospital. He squeezed my hand once but never opened his eyes again. I had to tell his family. To tell mine.” Bree’s breathing has become steadily more ragged but she isn’t crying.
“The detectives working the case were certain it was Reynaldo, but the Grand Jury said there wasn’t enough evidence. He was smirking when he walked out of court. By the time I ended him, I had already quit my job. I had an offer our home, donated, stored, or sold off our belongings, and bought my truck. I knew it wasn’t fair to Ragnar, but even before the verdict I just kinda wanted to escape for a while. I let another month go by, thought of every aspect of what I had planned.
“That night I followed Reynaldo; he had fucked some woman in an alley behind a bar, walked away from her and headed home. He kept cutting through alleys, I caught up to him behind his apartment building and he turned to look at me but didn’t seem worried. Just thinking a woman was walking up to him, I don’t know – I think I stabbed him two or three times really deep before he slashed at me with a switchblade he had on him.
“I got out of there with both knives and just kinda waited for a few weeks. Certain the police would at least notify me. It was pretty anti-climactic in retrospect, but I was a nervous wreck. I spent a lot of time with my nieces and nephew then got on the road like I had originally planned.”
“Do we need to go back for your things, Bree?” I ask.
“Day by day, Flint; that’s all I have in me right now, OK?”
I nod and let her drift off to sleep.
Chapter 12
Bree
We’ve slept in the same bed for a week now and wounded or not, I want Flint so badly. I’ve come to crave his touch but I’ll be damned if I can get him to make a move.
He watches me constantly, anticipating everything and driving me out of my mind; Gunner watches us and is retreating to the guest room more and more rather than watch our interactions. My trip is coming up soon, anyway.
Gunner
This is fucking painful.
Bree is like a junky strung out for Flint.
Flint has started going outside to smoke in an effort to hide his hard-ons. Fucking makes me want to smoke, too.
Flint
I get home late after being out riding for a few days. Close quarters with Bree was overwhelming me; I can’t imagine she’s ready for sex yet and it’s taking all my control to hold back. I’m pissed as I see Gunner’s duffle, packed and near the door, with him waiting up.
“Thought you’d be staying a while longer?” I ask him.
“Naw, I volunteered for the next run then Connal and I are going to take a ride. Leaving tomorrow for a week, or so. She doesn’t need a babysitter anymore,” We stare each other down. “Look, none of my business, but if you want her you’ve got to make a move. This whole honorable nursemaid routine is starting to work against you.”
He clasps my shoulder, grabs his bag, and leaves.
I must be fucking up if Gunner has started doling out relationship advice. Heading to the shower in the guest room, I get cleaned up then go to slide into bed with Bree.
The covers are twisted all around her; they always seem to be. I brought a host of nightshirts over for her but she seems to prefer my flannels shirts lately. As I lay down next to her, she opens her eyes and smiles.
“I missed you.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
I lean in to kiss her gently, taking my time and exploring her mouth. Her tongue moves to dance with mine and her arms pull me closer.
“Do you still want me, Flint?” She murmurs, leaning back from me after a moment.
“So fucking much, Doll.” She nods at me and I reach down to unbutton the shirt she’s in. “How are you feeling?”
“Take off your kid gloves, then ask me that again in thirty minutes.” She smirks at me. Reaching down through the waistband of my boxers, her small, soft hand caresses my cock. It jerks to attention, needy for her touch.
I lean over and start suckling one of her nipples while I caress the other one, pulling a deep moan from her. Music to my ears. Moving greedily between the two, her hands thread through my hair to keep me close. But she can’t hold back a laugh as I move my chin, tickling her with my beard.
“Please, Flint,” She shifts her pelvis up into my hip. “They’re so sensitive.”
“Don’t you worry, gonna take good care of you,” I lap lightly at her hard nipple as she tries to arch further into my mouth. “Gonna take my sweet time though, Bree.”
Twisting in my arms, she takes one of my hands and guides it down to her pussy. I chuckle around her nipple and lift my head to swipe my beard over her sensitive points again. “Need something, Bree?”
“I need your cock, Flint. It’s been so long, I need it hard and deep.” Fuck, what man wouldn’t love hearing that? The way she watches me with half-hooded eyes has my balls tightening already.
“Oops,” I run my finger down along her slit, before slowly sliding it inside her. “Did I make this all wet?”
Her mouth splits into a grin and she draws my hand up to her mouth, seeing her suck her juice off my finger snaps my control. So fucking hot.
“Shit, Doll, you like that?” She doesn’t respond other than to wipe my finger off on her nipple as she shifts her right leg out and up while raising an eyebrow at me. “You can’t love it as much as I do.
“Hard and deep, huh?” I confirm, but my Bree knows what she likes and reaches for my throbbing cock, lining it up to her wet sheath.