Reaper

by K. L. Savage

  “Because I love you, doll.”

  She inhales a sharp breath, and her tears dry up instantly. Her lips are puffy from the salt and look a bit raw, just like when I get done kissing her. “You love me?”

  A hot burn slithers up my spine from my wounds being open again. I still manage a smile and bring her knuckles to my lips. “How could I not love you? You think these last few years have been easy? I’m so much older than you. You had no idea how it felt having to wait for you to turn eighteen. Staying away, being rude, fighting you. It was the only way for me to stay sane. It hasn’t—” I close my eyes when another round of pain hits. “It hasn’t been easy, and I can’t promise it will always be a smooth ride, but I promise to always love you.”

  She cups my face and peppers me with a bunch of kisses. “You think I loved you because I thought this would be easy? This life is anything but easy, but loving you, it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Boomer is wrong. I know I’m young, but I knew I loved you the moment I saw you, Jesse.”

  “You better go get Eric.”

  She straightens and nods. “You must be in so much pain and here I am, blabbering.”

  “I love your blabber and love you, but I want him to clean me up so I can fuck you how I want.”

  Her lips shape into an O. “Oh.”

  “Oh is right.” My pain might be hitting the top of the scales, but my cock is raging. I need to be inside her, feel her heat, feel how wet she is, and how she says my name when she comes.

  “You are in no shape for that,” she says on a half moan when I run my hand down her chest and twist her hard nipple.

  “Doll, I’m in any shape I want to be in. Go get him because once my back is patched up, you better believe I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days.”

  She tilts her head back when I pluck her bud again. “I still feel you from earlier.”

  “You sore?” I cup her pussy through her dress, and that’s when I notice she still hasn’t changed, and I can feel my dried cum on her thighs.

  “A little.”

  Her heat tickles my fingers, and part of me wonders if I want to fuck her right here and now in these blood-ridden sheets.

  She pushes down on my hand, and that’s when I remember I still have her panties. She’s bare. She’s ready.

  “But I like it.”

  With a growl, the pain suddenly vanishes, and my body awakens. I fly off the bed, whisk her into my arms, and plant her against the wall. I spread her thighs and prepare to take what is mine.

  20

  Sarah

  We didn’t get to have sex for the past three nights. Doc came down right as Jesse was about to fuck me against the wall.

  I have a feeling that’s going to be our thing.

  He ordered Jesse to put me down and to lay in bed, and Jesse wasn’t a happy man about that. His chest and shoulders heaved, and when he didn’t listen, Doc did something I never thought he would do.

  He sedated him.

  Jesse has been asleep for three days so his wounds can heal. Apparently, Doc’s professional opinion was if Reaper kept getting out of bed and ripping his stitches, it would take longer to heal, and the chance of infection would get worse. Jesse would have fought him on it too, so Doc did what he had to.

  I’ve been by his side for three days, reading to him and sleeping next to him. I don’t know if he knows I’m here, but I like to think he does.

  On the right of me is Moretti. There’s been no change in his condition. Doc—I’m really trying my best to call people by their damn road name, but old habit dies hard—he believes that Moretti might have brain damage.

  So I read to him too. I pull out a book, settle between the two men, and read science fiction novels. I hope they’re imagining the stories and are in a dream state in another world.

  I flip the page and am about to read the next chapter when the basement door opens and light spills through. That’s another thing about this basement. There are no windows, so it’s easy to lose track of time. When Tool comes into view, he doesn’t look much better than Reaper, to be honest.

  He still lives in guilt. My cheek is fine. A little sore and when I eat, my jaw clicks now, but no one needs to know that. “We can’t find Boomer. Hawk’s bike is gone. We don’t know where he is, and his phone is off.”

  I set my cup of coffee down on the table and do my best not to lose my damn shit. I’m not sure what Boomer’s problem is, but we need him here, especially now. Especially with Moretti’s stepson wanting revenge on the MC, on me. It makes no sense. I have no enemies. I don’t think I have them, anyway. I mean, bouncing around from foster home to foster home, I didn’t have time to exactly make friends in order to turn them into enemies.

  “Um, how does church work?” I ask, feeling a bit naïve that I’m talking to the head honcho here now that Jesse is unconscious. The VP takes over all responsibilities if something happens to the President, but the problem Tool has is that he doesn’t know everything that is going on, and we need to be vigilant.

  “Usually at the same time every day, but with him being down like this, I haven’t called it. I’ve ordered everyone to stay at the clubhouse.”

  “Everyone?” I ask. “That’s a lot of brothers.”

  “It’s a hard time. People want to be here for Reaper, especially since we need to remain on high alert.”

  “Tool, I need to talk to you about something. Reaper didn’t get a chance to tell you before Doc knocked him out.”

  That knowing smirk that all the men seem to have lifts the right side of Tool’s beard as he grins. “Yeah, Doc is going to get an earful for that when he wakes up. It won’t be pretty.”

  “No, it won’t,” I agree.

  Tool drags a chair up and spins it around, and then swings his leg over the seat like it’s a bike before sitting on it. “What do you need to talk about with me, Sarah?” He leans to the left a bit. “Your cheek looks better than it did. I’m still so sorry about that. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “Stop.” I get up from my spot and make my way over to him, leaning against the bed that’s closest. “It was an accident. Don’t fret about it. It was my fault. I’m not even a little mad. I’ve moved on. You should too.”

  “I can’t. Not without knowing if I’m going to lose my patch. The club is everything to me, Sarah. Everything. It’s my home. It’s my family.”

  “You aren’t going to lose anything. I promise.” I bend over and give him a hug. He doesn’t hug me back for a few seconds, but when he does, he holds on tight like he has never been held before.

  “I hope you’re right,” he mumbles into my neck. “Anyway…” Tool leans back into the chair and sighs. “What’s so important that you want to call church?”

  “I can’t call it. You can.” I point out.

  “What’s up? Are you going to tell me, or are we going to keep beating around the bush?”

  “Reaper talked to Moretti before he got put in a coma.”

  “Shit, that guy must be in a lot of pain. He didn’t seem bad. Him and Reaper seem to be on good terms. His guys are upstairs, and everyone is getting along well.”

  “Good. He said it was his stepson who did this. He was forced to tell Reaper to come to the hotel because his stepson was threatening his daughter. Before the hotel blew up, Moretti sent Reaper a text to stay away.”

  “Damn, that’s fucked up.”

  “He also said that the stepson wants to break this MC; he wants to get to me.”

  “You?” Tool stood, sliding the chair back to its spot. He is alert, protective. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have enemies. I don’t have friends. I keep to myself. I went to school, came here; anything before that was just foster homes.”

  “Shit, so the MC is a target, along with you?”

  “It sounds like—” but I’m cut off by Reaper’s sleep voice.

  “It sounds like his stepson is going to kill whoever he has to that is a part of
the club to get to Sarah.”

  I shake my head, and Tool makes a sound of disagreement. “But why blow up the hotel? Why try to kill Moretti?” Tool asks.

  Reaper grunts and lifts his hand. “Water,” he croaks. “Fuck, how long have I been out?”

  “Three days.” I hurry over to him and pour him a tall glass of cold water. “Here you go. Sip—”

  He guzzles it down, and water spills from the corner of his lips.

  “It,” I finish saying, but not in time.

  “More please, doll?”

  “Anything for you, baby,” I say, kissing him on the cheek before pouring another glass.

  He drinks that glass down too, and then peeks under the sheet, cursing. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. I’m sick of these catheters in my dick. I want it out. Go get, Doc. I’m going to kill him.”

  “If you want to have sex again, you’ll kill him after.”

  Reaper lifts his middle finger to Tool, and I giggle from the banter.

  “Why does this kid want anything to do with us, Prez? Why the hell come after us?”

  “He blew up the hotel because it is associated with us, and so is Moretti.”

  Reaper spoke about Moretti in the present tense, which only makes the air around us thicker because Moretti, while he is here, he isn’t at the same time. He isn’t breathing on his own, and the ventilator is doing it for him. Doc says it’s to give his body a break to heal, but I’m not too sure that’s really the reason.

  “What do we do?” Tool asks. “We have no idea where he is, and it seems like the person who might know is in a coma. Can we wake him?”

  “Not without causing him so much pain that it might send him into cardiac arrest.”

  “Shit.” My hand flies to my heart. “You’re going to cause me to have a heart attack if you sneak up like that on me again.”

  Doc laughs and jumps off the steps, ignoring the last four steps. “Sorry, Sarah. I wouldn’t want that.”

  “What do we do if we can’t wake him? Wait around until he takes us out?” Tool questions all of us, but I know the question is really aimed at Reaper.

  “Call for church. Tell everyone to be on alert. I want everyone carrying a gun at all times. Tell Boomer to get his crazy explosives and shit, and I want patrols around the clubhouse. Lock the gates. Install more cameras. It’s time to lockdown.”

  “There’s a problem with that, Prez.”

  “What?”

  I fall in my seat and wring my hands together. “Boomer isn’t here.”

  “Okay, so call him,” Reaper says.

  “No, Prez.” Tool uncrosses his arms and swallows, nervous and a bit afraid that Reaper might punish him for what he is about to say. “Boomer is gone. He hasn’t been back. Phone is off.”

  “He left?”

  “Seems like it.”

  Reaper nods, sniffs, and clears his throat, obviously fighting emotion. “I see.”

  “He’ll be back,” I say. “He has to come back.” Boomer said he’d never leave me. I thought we were closer than that. He and I grew inseparable. Apparently, I’m easier to leave than he said. What am I going to do without him? The MC won’t be the same. Yes, I have Reaper, but if Boomer isn’t here, my heart won’t be complete.

  Something will always be missing.

  “I’ll call church now. I’ll let everyone know. I like seeing you awake. MC needs you.”

  “Tool?”

  Tool turns his wide shoulders to the side to make it through the doorway and peeks over his round muscle.

  “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the punishment I have in store for you for hitting Sarah. I haven’t.”

  “Understood, Prez.”

  “You aren’t losing your patch, so you can stop thinking that. You’re my VP, and I know it was an accident. You’re my best friend, but I can’t let this go.”

  Tool’s shoulders sag with relief, and he nods. “Thank you, Reaper. I’ll take any punishment you give.”

  After Tool leaves, I crawl into the bed with Reaper, and Doc double checks his wounds. “You’re looking good. You might just heal after all.”

  “Good. Now, get out. I want to be alone with my ol’ lady.”

  I’ll never get tired of hearing that. I cuddle into his side, and Doc turns down the lights, so they aren’t as harsh.

  “Let go, doll. It’s okay. I got you.” He kisses the side of my head and holds me tight as I do what he says, obeying him effortlessly.

  I cry into the crook of his arm, the pain from Boomer leaving finally escaping. The sobs are grotesque, stomach turning. I feel like I’m going to be sick it hurts so much. He left. He said he’d never leave. I feel abandoned again. The one person I thought would always be here for me.

  “Everyone always leaves me.” I clutch his side, digging my fingers into his ribs as I hold onto him. Reaper has always been my anchor, the one man who saves me from destruction.

  “Not everyone.” He flips me over onto my back and pushes my hair out of my eyes. “I’m never going to leave you, doll. Never. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “No, Sarah. Look at me. Open your eyes.”

  I had no idea I closed them.

  “There you are.” He brushes my tears away. “I love you so much that it is an obsession. It consumes me. It’s unhealthy. I want to possess you. Every inch.”

  “You do. I’m yours, Jesse. Always have been.”

  He kisses me gently, taking my heart into his hands. “And always will be.”

  Always.

  21

  Reaper

  It’s been an entire week, and a few things are really starting to piss me off.

  One, I haven’t had sex since our first time.

  Two, we haven’t had sex.

  And I’m fucking horny.

  She’s been parading around in these tiny little black lace panties, teasing me, provoking me, knowing damn good and well that I can’t do anything about it because Doc threatened that if I did anything to open my wounds, he would put me in a medically-induced coma too.

  But guess who has just been cleared?

  “Still be careful!” Doc shouts at me, but all I can hear is my blood rushing through my veins, pure static blinding and drowning out any unnecessary noise. If it isn’t Sarah crying out my name when my cock is planted deep, then everything is most definitely unnecessary.

  Careful.

  I’m done being careful. She’s been teasing me for a week. How the hell can we have sex once, just once, and then she turns me down because of doctor’s orders? It’s fucking bullshit.

  “Sarah!” My voice carries through the house.

  “Oh, you’re in trouble,” Poodle taunts.

  “Ye, shut it,” Skirt says. “He won’t like it that yer teasing his gal.”

  “He is right.” I enter the main room without looking at anyone else and zero in on Sarah. She’s playing pool with Tank, and the guy is sweating up a storm. I don’t blame him. Anytime I get around her, I get hot and heavy too. “Sarah!”

  “Stop bellowing; I’m here. Jeez.” She lines up her shot and bends over, waving that ass in the air, fucking taunting me again. When I get her alone, I’m going to fucking spank her for the shit she has pulled the last week.

  She hits the ball into the pocket and then grabs the chalk, never taking her eyes off me as she blows the excess off the tip. I can’t wait to feel those lips around me. My time waiting to experience everything is over.

  “Drop the stick and come with me.”

  “I will after this game,” she says.

  “You’ll come now,” I growl, deepening my voice so my authority is noticed. Tank gets the hint and drops the stick, putting his hands in the air in surrender.

  The guy is way too skittish to be that big. It’s such a contradiction.

  “Is that so?” she says, ignoring me, and all the guys look everywhere else but us.

  It’s been a stressful time. I’ve been grumpy as fuck for a wh
ole bunch of reasons. Badge found out who Moretti’s stepson is, but he can’t seem to locate him anywhere. The guy is in the wind, along with Boomer. Moretti is still in a coma, the only one who can give us answers, and my cock has been hurting for far too long.

  I need to release all my pent-up frustration.

  “Come here. Now, Sarah.”

  She licks her lips and places the stick on the table. She’s wearing tight low-rise jeans and a purple shirt that’s a little too short for my liking. Her flat stomach is showing, along with her golden skin that’s meant for my eyes only. She saunters over to me, and I watch her movements. She glides, almost like a cat with how soft and elegant she floats across the floor to me. Damn it, never in my life has a woman commanded my attention like this.

  “What is it, baby?” she asks and rubs her lips together. I inhale, smelling that goddamn cherry lip gloss that drives me up the wall.

  I’m going to fuck that mouth with my cock and mess up that silky perfection that has messed with my mind for far too long. I say nothing else; I give her no warning. I throw her over my shoulder and slap her on the ass in front of everyone.

  All the guys holler as I leave, celebrating my win. And it is most definitely a win.

  She’s a trophy I plan on admiring every fucking day for the rest of life.

  I kick my door open and then slam it shut again. The room is still a little messy, but it’s big, and the bed is freshly made. It’s a bachelor pad, that’s for sure. The curtains aren’t even real curtains; they’re a blanket. That will all change. Sarah has been dying to make changes to this place to make it feel like a home, and I’m going to let her do whatever she wants.

  I toss her on the bed and watch her tits bounce under her shirt. “Get undressed,” I growl, grabbing the back of my shirt collar to shuck it over my head.

  Sarah gets on her hands and knees, crawling to me, that ass in the air again just begging for my hand. Once she gets to close enough to me, she flattens her tongue along my happy trail and licks all the way up until she gets to my lips, giving me a sloppy kiss. I hold her head still, making sure she can’t move until I want her to.