Thunder (Desert Phantoms MC Book 1)

by Verlene Landon

  Andrea blinked her eyes repeatedly to clear her vision. When she focused on him, she gifted him a smile. A different one than she’d shared previously. This one was not only happy but content. Maybe she was ready for something, too.

  10

  Andrea

  When Nick removed the blindfold, it was like seeing him for the first time. Or with renewed vision, something like that. She was different somehow and so was he. They were different.

  She snuggled in closer. It wasn’t enough. It was as if she couldn’t get close enough. If Nick’s constantly contracting hold on her were any sign, he felt the same way.

  As the girl in the scenario, her inner voice was trying to convince her she was overreacting. Putting more stock into sex than her male counterpart. But Andy was sure that wasn’t the case. Hell, she didn’t even feel this way after she lost her virginity or any time since. Even her long-term relationships never elicited that sort of response from her and some had been pretty damn good in the sack.

  Plus, Andy never, never got attached after sex. She was usually shuffling the men out of the bed they shared at warp speed or sneaking out herself. If she had a dime for every time she’d said, ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ she’d be richer than shit.

  This was different, Nick was different.

  “That was. . .incredible.” She hated being vulnerable, hated it with a passion, but she felt it was the most honest she could be to honor the moment.

  The contented groan he made just before burrowing into their embrace deeper, spoke volumes. She got the distinct impression he wasn’t a cuddler.

  “Not over yet, I need to take care of you.” He didn’t move and she wasn’t sure what taking care she needed, but she didn’t ask. After just a few quick seconds, he grabbed the helmet and stood. Placing it on an empty dummy head on the shelf.

  He strode to the bathroom. She heard the water running. When he returned, he scooped her off the bed and carried her to the bathroom. The garden tub was filling with steaming water and musky scented bubbles.

  Shit, this man is damn near perfect. A wave of sadness and regret washed over her. If only she’d approached him like she wanted to three years ago, they might have started something special. The kind of something that would have them planning or starting a family by now. Whoa.

  Andy didn’t want kids, like seriously considered taking a surgical route to prevent it. So why now was she thinking of families and mortgage payments?

  That line of thinking after great sex on a woman’s behalf was the exact reason men didn’t call back and ghosted like nobody’s business.

  Even knowing she was likely stoned on dopamine and whatever other drugs flooded the brain after sex, she couldn’t rein in her thoughts. There was something about the man that drew her in. Even years ago when he didn’t have the long hair, ink, or the beard. When he was rocking the all-American boy next door vibe, it sucked her in.

  Now that they’d been intimate, she wanted to know more about him. Like the military men in the picture, who were they? They obviously meant something to him.

  Or the flight helmet he’d put on her but seemed to regard reverently.

  He lowered them both into the water with a sigh of relief. “The helmet? You said you wore it every flight in the hog. It seems really special to you?”

  Nick reached for the bath wash. Squeezed a generous amount in his palm and rubbed them together creating a “him” scented lather. He worked the lather into her shoulders, raising one arm and caressing it. She accepted he wasn’t in a sharing mood when he focused his efforts on her hand. It felt amazing. She allowed her eyes to close as he soaped and massaged her fingers.

  “First, it’s hawg, not hog.” Even though it was low and soft, his voice startled her. He continued cleaning her, moving to her other arm as he went. “I flew the A-10. Made some lifelong friendships along the way. Brotherhood and flying were my life, still is. Just the uniform and the vehicle have changed.”

  There was fondness in his voice, but a profound sadness too. “Did three tours overseas. Saw more shit than I ever imagined. Lost more brothers than I ever wanted to. More death than any human should ever know. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, never want to go back.”

  Andy could feel there was so much more to the story than just that summarized version. However, she got the impression he didn’t share with many people, so she didn’t push him.

  His hand stilled on her skin. She dipped her arms to rinse and reached for the wash. After encouraging his leg up, he propped it on the front of the tub and she reached for it. Soaping his foot and calf with the same massaging technique he’d used on her.

  “Ummm, no one’s ever done that for me before.” His words weren’t directed at her. “It’s nice.” They seemed more of a thought for himself. Not wanting to spur him to visit a place in his past which may be painful, but still wanting to know more about him, she took a chance.

  “So, they let you keep the helmet when you got out.” It was a statement instead of a question, but he answered.

  “Um hm. And the flight suit.” She turned her head because the tone in his voice piqued her curiosity. Her breath hitched in her throat. He was laid back with the ends of his hair in the water. Face a picture of complete relaxation and a wicked smile. He popped one sinfully dark eye open. “You know the zipper goes both ways? Quick access. I bet you’d be downright irresistible in one.” He pulled her back against him and washed her hair.

  In hindsight, she wished she’d known the bliss they were sharing was about to end. Maybe she would’ve committed more to memory or at least dried her hair.

  “Why did you drop off the face of the planet three years ago?” His query filled her stomach with butterflies.

  “You noticed me back then?” Andy couldn’t believe he’d seen her around. Sure, she was at a lot of his fights, but she always hovered around the back. Hidden in the crowd. Even from a distance, this man elicited responses from her that were not her norm.

  When she found a man attractive, she didn’t hesitate to approach him. If it was a bar, she’d buy him a drink, or attempt to, some guy’s masculinity was threatened by a woman taking the lead like that. She simply walked away from those types. Others, well, she was honest and upfront about what she expected and what she was offering in return.

  But Killer, Nick, had an air about him that was just different. She was drawn to him from the first time she saw him.

  Not love at first sight, but definitely lust and a longing to see beyond one night. So, the fact he’d noticed her too, well, maybe something beautiful could be between them for however long they both enjoyed it.

  Nick’s fingers stilled in her hair. It was already rinsed, he’d been lazily massaging her scalp. Somehow, there in the tub, she felt more exposed, more vulnerable than she had when she was at his complete mercy.

  That level of intimacy normally sent her for the hills. Grab the discarded clothes, leave a fake number, and basically change jobs and move to another state, kind of discomfort. But, she allowed herself to embrace it with Nick. She had a moment of panic realizing the power she was surrendering to him. The power to break her. But, he’d promised not to abuse it, so she allowed herself to indulge.

  Andy was so lost in her head and the connection to a man, she forgot he’d asked a question until he turned her in the tub.

  “Why did you ghost me?”

  The edge to his voice and cold shadow in his eyes did not give her the warm and fuzzies. The butterflies had all fluttered away, her heart plummeted down to her stomach to take their place.

  The soft full lips that had wrung pleasure from her body and tenderly kissed her neck were set in a hard line. Alarm bells were going off in her head and she stood. Stepping over the side of the tub, she fumbled for a towel and dried her body, creating a distance between them.

  A distance that allowed her to breathe and process his words. He remained in the tub like a wet angry statue. What had she done to flip his switch like that? />
  Andy felt a connection to this man, but she wasn’t sure if dropping her TBI on him when he looked like that was a swell idea. Plus, a part of her was a little ashamed. She didn’t freely tell anyone about it. Would he look at her differently? Brain injuries weren’t exactly sexy. ‘Oh, yeah, I like women with long legs, a huge rack, and a TBI. Fuck yeah, that’s my dream girl.’ She had to say something though. Andy tackled it the way she did everything. Spontaneously. Open mouth and see what comes out.

  “I had a lot happen three years ago and well, it forced me to take some me time.”

  Nick got out of the tub and stood right in front of her dripping wet and looking like a vengeful Greek god. “Scratch the first question. That was me trying to be nice. Why did you ghost me?”

  No mistaking his anger, but there was a hint of hurt and openness to him as well. The conversation was getting more and more confusing to Andy.

  “I didn’t ghost you; I didn’t even know you. Sure, I fantasized about meeting you and doing other things. But I never got the nerve. Hell, I didn’t know you even noticed me back then.”

  His face became unreadable for a moment before… holy shit. If she thought he was angry before, she was wrong.

  “Lexi had finally talked me into approaching you, and I think I was almost there before—”

  “What fucking game are you playing? What are you running?”

  His shout echoed off the tile surrounding them and made her jump. That just pissed her off. She hated being scared. She made a promise to herself a long time ago she was nobody’s victim. Never again.

  She threw her towel at the mad giant. “I don’t play games. Games are for children, insecure women, and assholes with fear of commitment and mommy issues who like to have power over women. I’m none of those things.” After hurling her words at him, she stomped to the bedroom and pulled on her underwear and began the search for the rest of her clothes.

  As she found them, it hit her, he might have thought her last words were an assessment about him. For a split-second, she almost apologized and explained. Andy turned to do just that but found him towering over her with rage oozing from every pore of his body.

  Even so, something told her he wouldn’t hit her, or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part. But she’d seen him in fights. He never let anger control his fists. His face would be a mask of rage occasionally, but his hits were planned and controlled. If not for her borderline obsession with him as Killer, she would’ve been crapping her pants with fear.

  Another thing that pissed her off.

  “Almost there?” His words transported her back in time. “Shoving your hand down my shorts and fisting my dick in front of everyone is almost there to you? Letting me rail you from behind in a dirty locker room is almost there? Shit, woman, if that’s your almost… I guess you fucked so many guys that night you can’t remember them all.”

  Andy didn’t think. Didn’t even process all his words. She understood enough to know he’d called her a whore. Slut-shamed her when he was the one who carried her to his room and buried his face in her snatch before even saying hello.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She could see Nick through her fury and his, but she also saw someone else. Someone from her past who made her feel ashamed and helpless.

  Fuck that, was all her internal voice screaming at a deafening volume. Fuck you and every man who has ever slut-shamed me for liking sex as much as them. Fuck you for everything. Just fuck you.

  Then she said fuck you out loud. But it wasn’t loud or even laced with anger. It was barely audible and monotone. She’d flipped the switch. Nothing good came from two angry people hurling insults or God forbid, fists.

  As angry as she was now, she was in control of her physical response. She wanted to bust his fucking nose, but she didn’t. Andy would retreat to assess everything that had happened, and only then, respond accordingly. She’d learned years ago that anger and logic were mutually exclusive. She lived her life spontaneously, but not with emotions. Nope, those were Fort Knox and could only be accessed with a series of steps.

  She tried to let go of her anger at him for being a grade-A cunt bag, and at herself, for allowing the security breach of her feelings. She could beat that dead horse later, and she would. Heaven knows she would.

  Nick took a small step back with the force of her flat whispered words and plunged his eyebrows south. She recognized that look. It was the re-evaluation of his own words or thoughts. How many times had she done just like that? Hell, she’d literally just done the exact same thing.

  Not the place or the time, Andrea. She shoved all her doubts deep inside for later analysis. She needed to get dressed and get the hell out of there.

  She picked up her jeans, boots, and shirt, then studied his expression. Shit, he did not subscribe to the same philosophy she did. Retreat and reevaluate was clearly not his style. He wasn’t done hurting her feelings. Her words earlier had apparently, albeit unintentionally, struck a chord. She had enough presence of mind to recognize it for what it was. Coupled with his nightmares and his words in the tub, the man suffered from some sort of PTSD. No getting through that, not here, not now.

  “Get out.” It was low and growly and soaked in fury.

  She wanted to stop him before he said words she may not be able to cope with. She turned to flee before she could hear them, but his voice thundered after her.

  “I couldn’t give a shit that you’re a lying bitch pretending not to remember fucking me. I only care if you’re running games on my club, my brothers.”

  Oh, God, oh God, oh God. His voice was getting louder. She needed to move faster. She felt it coming like a hound of hell on her heels.

  “I don’t do games and I don’t do liars, well, I did do one. Won’t make that mistake again. You were easy pussy, Andy, and now it’s time for you to do what easy pussy does and get the fuck out.”

  Logic be damned, she was hurting. Those words were ones she couldn’t shove down and digest later. “I may be easy pussy, but you’re the liar, Nick. Not me. You said I could trust you. That I wouldn’t regret it. Well, I fucking do. More so than anything else in my life, and boy is that saying something.”

  As her feet carried her away from the door, there was no way she could let it go. What he’d said ate away at the person she used to be. The one she was working hard to be again. She let her mouth get the best of her. She reached the hall door that led to the main part of the club. Thank God, she didn’t need the code to get out too. She turned; he was standing in the doorway watching her retreat.

  “Well, I may be a slut. But I’m not your fucking slut. The dick was good, but your fucking ego is out of proportion with it, so you might want to check that attitude.”

  The sharp sound of his slamming door ricocheted through her very soul. Dressed in only her underwear, she stepped into the bar praying no one would be around, but there wasn’t a God listening to her today.

  The men playing dominoes stopped more abruptly than if someone had pressed the pause button on a DVR. She recognized a few of the faces frozen and looking at her tits.

  Taps was the first to recover and stood. Her brain must’ve short-circuited from her overwhelming emotions because she smiled at his shirt that read, Sleeping with the bartender won’t get you free drinks, but it’s worth a shot.

  “Shit, baby girl, you look like you could use this more than me.” He approached and handed her a shot. Not even caring that it was in the a.m. or that she was about to drive. Or that she was standing in an MC clubhouse in her underwear, she downed it and winced. Tequila. “You want a donut to wash it down?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Before she could put Taps in his place, a man she hadn’t met shouted their direction. “Dude, give it a break. Your obsession with tongue fucking food is getting old and she just left a brother’s bed. Probably not the best time to put the moves on her.”

  “Oh, God.” She groaned. “Thanks for the shot and the sexual food offer, but I’m going to jet.
” She was trying to laugh so she could get out of there without crying. She hated fucking tears, but they were coming.

  “Seriously.” Taps took the shot glass but draped his arm around her. “You, okay? You want me to slay that dumbass fucking giant, just say the word and I will.”

  Her smile was weak at best. “No, thanks. He’s not worth it. Besides, who will insult the women of Vegas if he’s gone? It’s a big job and I’m pretty sure he’s doing the lion’s share of the work for Clark County, so. . .”

  Taps laughed, and it was a soothing sound. “I like you. I hope he gets his head out of his ass and grovels. It’d be nice having you around. However, if he doesn’t, I’m available. I’ve been told my oral skills are impeccable, I have the voice of an angel, and, this is the real selling point.” He pitched his voice low. “I know how to hit the hamper, every… single… time.”

  “The last thing I need or want right now is another dick. Whether we’re talking about the one in your pants or your personality. So, just keep it yourself already.”

  Andy hated to take out her frustration on Taps, he’d been nothing but nice to her, but she was fucking done.

  She hadn’t realized he’d walked her to the door until they were there. “Noted.” It was the first time he appeared semi-serious since she’d met him. “Get dressed and give me your keys.”

  Taps reached over to the motorcycle handlebar coat rack by the door and removed a plain, long-sleeved denim jacket. Holding it up in front of her like a curtain, he nodded for her to dress. She did. Then he slipped the coat on her and turned to where the men resumed playing dominoes.

  She gasped when Blast stepped forward at some silent understanding between him and Taps. “Keys? Taps’ll take you home and I’ll bring your car.”

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded and handed them over.