by Zahra Girard
Without a word, she gets on the bike behind me, still clutching the envelope to her chest.
I drive deliberately, but still fast enough to catch up to Stone and Tricia, who are flying down the road to Lone Mesa as fast as his bike will take them.
We roar through the quieter areas of Lone Mesa on the way to Adella’s apartment, eventually losing sight of Stone and Tricia as our paths separate.
At an intersection close to her home, she taps me on the shoulder.
“Can we stop?” She shouts above the rumble of my bike.
I scan the surroundings, see that it’s safe, and pull to the side.
“What is it, Addie?”
“This,” she says, holding out the envelope so I can see it. “Can we please go to the post office?”
“I need to get you home, Addie. It’s not safe.”
Her lip quivers. The sight of her fear is poison to my ability to deny her. All I want is to comfort her, to take away her tears and her pain.
I kill the engine. Look at her long and slow. Even as she is — eyes full of tears, a total mess — she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. None of the club girls, none of the women I’ve spent time with in all my years riding, can hold a candle to Addie Stone even when she’s at her most disheveled.
“Please, Snake. These are my photos for the art show. I worked so hard on them and, if I don’t get these in the mail soon, I’ll miss out. I know it seems small and stupid, but I need something; I need some kind of win, some kind of little, stupid, pathetic victory, just so I can have something to hold on to and keep my mind off the horror that I’ve been through. Please, Snake. Please help me forget.”
She bats her teary eyes at me and I’m done for.
“For someone so innocent, you sure know how to tempt a man to break his orders,” I say, smiling. My smile grows a bit as I see her smile back at me. There’s just something about this woman that touches a piece of me deep inside, reaches a part of me I thought long dead from the shit I’ve seen and the blood I’ve spilled.
“Is that a yes?” She says, her smile surfacing even more.
If I wasn’t sunk already, I would be now; there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to see this woman smile.
“Yeah, we’ll go,” I say.
And I take her to the nearest post office, park my bike in back of the building, out of sight from the street and any passers-by.
“Give me the envelope. You stay here, and I’ll be right back. If anything happens, you take my bike and get the fuck back to the clubhouse.”
“What? I can take care of it myself,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow, run my sight up and down her body.
“You sure? Look at yourself, Addie. I think you look sexy as hell, but you will definitely raise some questions if you walk in there looking like you do. Most people don’t go for the bloody look.”
She looks down and remembers that she’s covered in dirt and blood.
“Oh.”
It only takes me a minute to race inside, hand the envelope over to the clerk behind the counter, along with a stern warning that, if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll make sure that parcel gets where it's going as fast as possible, and then I’m back outside.
Addie’s waiting for me. Her smile grows when I get closer and, though I’ve had the kind of day that’ll definitely rank among the most terrible days of my entire fucking life, her smile makes it worth it.
I’ll be damned if this woman isn’t something special.
I get back to her side and swing one leg over my bike.
“You ready?”
She nods.
Then, quick as a flash, she leans in and kisses me on the cheek.
“Thank you, Snake.”
“Don’t mention it,” I say as she swings a leg up behind me and mounts up. Addie doesn’t need to put her arms around me to keep her balance — she’s spent as nearly as many years on a bike as most of the guys in the club — but she still does, slipping them around me and pressing her chest tight to my back. It’s heaven.
And it’s dangerous; it makes breaking from my duty even more tempting.
Frowning, I pull us out of the lot and get us back on the road. I think about my duty to the club, about the loyalty and honor that — however bloody of a beast I am — is still part of my identity. I’ve twisted so much of myself in service to the club, done dark things that will haunt me until my dying days, but I still have a code. Still have honor.
Now I’m twisting it even further, breaking rules and corrupting honor. All for her.
Where will it lead?
Is she going to be the reason for happiness in my life?
Or will she be the source of my ruin?
I may not know, but one thing’s for sure: Addie Stone has a powerful effect on me. With a kiss, she can make me forget for a time all the shit I’ve seen. She makes the scars on my soul feel like nothing more than a haunted memory.
Most of all, she can make me smile.
If I’m not careful, it might get us killed.
We reach her place and hop off at nearly the same time.
She’s got her keys out and her hand locked in mine as she leads me to her place.
The shiny steel shakes in her hands and the glow that lit her cheeks earlier is gone as she opens the door for me. The door’s hardly shut behind us when she looks down at herself — at her shirt covered in blood — and her face changes. The agony and remorse surfaces again and, in manic haste, she strips her shirt off.
“I have to get it off. I can’t take it,” she mutters. “There’s so much blood, I have to get it off.”
Her shirt hits the floor along with her bloody jeans and, in seconds, she’s standing in front of me, stripped bare, with her hands wrapping herself in a cradling hug while she shakes.
“What the fuck happened, Snake? Why is there so much blood? Why do I still feel like it’s on me? Am I ever going to forget what he looked like? Help me. Please. Help me.”
I’d always pictured my first time seeing Addie Stone naked as something to be fucking proud about; she’s not some club slut, not some hanger on, not some woman I’ll throw between my sheets for a night and kick out before the sun rises because I have no inclination at all to do anything even approaching a relationship. Addie Stone is a prize. A woman to cherish.
But now?
Addie Stone is broken.
It stirs painful memories inside me. It wasn’t that long ago that I felt like her. On the edge of ruin, wondering what the fucking point was to keep living, wishing I had the courage to do what was necessary to take away my pain.
It makes my heart hurt. Hurt so deep and sincere that it almost strips my voice away.
But that profound pain spurs me to action. Reminds me that this beautiful, bright woman needs me more than anything in the world right now.
“Come here, Addie,” I say in nothing more than a whisper, and put my arms around her. For a moment, I hold her, and then I kiss her on the forehead. “I will take care of you. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”
Slowly, I lead Addie to her impractical bathroom, where the hot and cold water are so variable and tempestuous that you’d have more luck casting chicken bones than trusting the temperature knobs and, after a lot of fussing, I draw her a passable bath.
Then I help her into the tub.
She settles into the water, knees clutched to her chest, grimacing only slightly at the heat, and looks at me with eyes so wide they swallow my world.
“Do you ever not see it? The blood, I mean.”
I take a bar of soap in one hand and her arm in the other. Gently, I scrub, washing the blood from her tanned skin. It comes off in thick, foamy rivers.
“No,” I say. “It’s there. Every day. But some days are better than others. Some days, an entire morning and even an afternoon passes and I realize I haven’t thought about it. Sometimes I even make it to sleep before my dreams remind me of what I’m trying to forget. And they do it in s
uch terrifying, vivid ways. Those are the good days. The bad days? It’s always there. It’s all I see. All I think about. And I hate it so much.”
The words flow from me as I wash her, cleaning her skin of the blood and the gore, spilling the confessions of my war-haunted heart. Addie watches. Ears open, eyes wide, heart — wounded, confused, afraid — shining at me from her transcendent brown eyes.
I clear my throat.
She doesn’t need to hear that from me right now.
Doesn’t need to hear my pain. Though it feels so inexcusably good to talk about it to her. To feel like I can finally speak to someone who only cares to listen, who only cares to care, and doesn’t even think about judging me for the monster I am.
Except she needs me to care for her.
She needs me to give her hope.
In this moment, I stop washing her. I look into her eyes. Speak from a place deep inside that I have spent years running from.
“Addie, I won’t lie to you, won’t try to deny that you’ve seen something horrible. But, if you can find something or someone to hold on to, it gets better. Day by day. That someone can make the pain fade to nothing, can make the hurt become a foggy memory, can make your days so much brighter you don’t even see the dark. Whether they know it or not, whether you tell them or not, they can make all the difference. Trust me. I know.”
With a smile on her face, she squeezes me back.
With her other hand, she flips the switch on the drain.
Then she stands in front of me. Washed clean. Naked. Eyes so full of pure emotion and expectation staring back at me.
She kisses me.
And then brings her lips to my ear.
“Snake, you’re the one I want to hold on to. I want you to take me to bed.”
Chapter Eleven
Adella
Shaking, naked, hurt, vulnerable, wanting to feel this protective and powerful man as close as I can, I lean forward and kiss him. Kiss him and speak the words I’ve had waiting on my lips from the second I met him: “Take me to bed.”
A moment passes where I stand in front of him, naked, watching a struggle play out behind his eyes. Duty against desire.
And the side I want to win, wins.
The man I want, wants me.
His lips return to mine with a vengeance. Devour me. His hands roam my body with naked hunger, caressing my tits, my back, my ass, and I moan to finally have him touching me in the way I’ve wanted for so long.
Then he lifts me, scooping me into his arms.
Turning, he carries me to my bed and hurls me upon it.
I land on my back, smiling, watching as he stares down at me.
“Fuck, I can’t tell you for how long I’ve wanted this. Ever since you started to grow up, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he says, looking down at me as he strips off his shirt, revealing a body hardened by his life as a soldier and a member of the MC. Abs and shoulders and chest muscles and biceps, scars and ink, including a large tattoo of his namesake snake on his arm, all bare, all mine.
I’ve thought about this moment for so long and, now that it’s finally here, I feel about ready to faint, my heart is palpitating so wildly in my chest.
“I want you so bad, Snake. I’ve always wanted you to be mine. My first,” I say.
He doesn’t startle as much as I expect to hear that I’m a virgin; he has to have known my father would’ve intimidated most every man who thought to even get close to me.
“Your first?”
I nod.
He smiles.
“Then let me show you what you’ve been missing, Addie.”
Then he’s on top of me. Arms at my sides, lips on mine, tongue meeting mine, drawing moans from my throat with his passion while my hands caress his hardened body. Beneath him, I forget about everything but kissing him, touching him, wanting him to take me and use me, to be the first that I’ve waited for.
When he pulls back, looking down at me with one of those smiles that I so scarcely see but cherish above anything else, I’m shaking. Shaking with desire. With anticipation. Shaking so much my breath comes in gasps and moans.
“I’m going to taste you now,” he says. There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice, like he never expected he’d be in this position — going down on the club president’s virgin daughter.
“Please, Snake.”
Though I want to feel his tongue on my pussy more than anything, he takes his sweet time. Keeps me floating on waves of temptation and desire. Kisses my neck, my shoulders, my arms, until he reaches my tits.
Damn, do I ever moan while his tongue plays with my nipples.
I shift and squirm beneath him and my thigh rubs against his crotch. Beneath his jeans, he’s thick and hard and my pussy tingles in eager anticipation; I’m slick, wet, aching for him.
“Snake…” I start. Thinking to urge him faster. Now that I have him, I want him; I’m sick of waiting.
He puts a finger to my lips.
“I’ve waited fucking years for this, Addie. And it’s better than I could’ve asked for. So I will take my fucking time with you and enjoy every fucking second I have.”
But I’m sick of waiting.
Of having men tell me what to do. Hell, it’s been my entire life as the president’s daughter — go here, don’t go there, stay safe, stay away from this, stay away from that — now I will take what I want.
I grab his hand in both of mine and, before he can react, I wrench it down between my legs. Against the part of me I so desperately want his touch upon.
I take his hand and I use it.
I guide his fingers through how I want to be touched. How I’ve touched myself.
“I’m sick of fucking waiting,” I gasp. “I want you now.”
My toes start to tingle. So fast it surprises me. But then, I’ve never had any man touch me like he’s touching me now. Never wanted any other man to touch me like he’s touching me.
I rock my hips while I use his fingers, guiding and holding his hands exactly where I want them. Until the tingling heat building in my toes grows, until it rises through the rest of my feet, to my calves, all the way to my thighs, and I can feel my body tensing and tightening as the rest of me prepares to break.
It’s never happened this fast.
Though, in my fantasies, it’s always happened with him.
Every time.
Alone, when my hands were doing the work that his are now, I’ve thought of him. Ever since I was old enough to know what I was doing, I’ve wanted him. Here. In this moment.
And then he takes his hand away.
My eyes open wide, the heat fades, and angry words find their way to my lips.
But he’s quicker than my words.
“I’m not going to half-ass making you come, Addie,” he growls. “And I’m sure as fuck not going to miss out on having your pussy on my lips, either.”
And he stretches out, laying by my side and putting his head between my legs while his lips and tongue turn my body to electrified jello.
I shake the second he licks me. The second his lips kiss my pussy.
This is something more. Something powerful. Something all-consuming that will light my whole body up and ruin me.
And, though I’m tempted to just shut my eyes, lay my head back, and enjoy that — finally — the man that I’ve always wanted is focused solely on making me come, I don’t.
I keep my eyes open.
First, I look down to remind myself that this is real; Snake really is between my legs, tasting me, pleasuring me, this isn’t some exceptionally real fantasy; this is the man I want, giving me what I want.
Then I look to my left.
His crotch is inches from my face, still covered in jeans, and his bulge is crying out for my attention.
It’s tricky to get his jeans undone when my fingers are twitching and tingling like they are, but I manage.
I’m determined.
I want him in my mouth.
He shifts
his hips, making it easier for me, and I pull him free.
I turn a little, take him in my mouth, and taste him for the first time. The first time I’ve ever tasted any man.
“Oh goddamn, Addie,” he says, stopping for a moment to moan and thrust his thick cock deeper in my mouth.
I don’t answer, except for a moan; I’ve got his dick in my mouth, and I don’t think there’s any force on earth that could take this away from me.
I may not be experienced, but I’ve thought about this moment for so long; I make up for being a novice with the enthusiasm I have for finally having the man I’ve always wanted.
He’s shaking and moaning because of what I’m doing, I think to myself with pride.
It’s my tongue that’s making him clench and thrust.
It’s my lips that’s making him freeze up like a deer in headlights because he’s so overcome.
It’s my hand wrapped around his cock and pumping it into my mouth that’s making him gasp like he’s already about to break.
But I don’t have long to enjoy my feeling of accomplishment.
It doesn’t take Snake much time to get his bearings back, and then his tongue returns to my pussy, his lips kiss my clit in a way that makes stars burst behind my eyelids and makes my lips go numb, and then all I can think about is that I have his cock in my mouth while I’m twitching and shaking and coming against his face.
My mind goes blissfully blank. My senses rocket into empty space.
And when I come to, he’s between my legs, thick cock resting against my pussy.
“I need to fuck you, Addie. I need it so fucking bad,” he moans.
“Wait,” I say, shocking myself that I can even get any words out at all. “Are you…? Do we need a…?”
“I’m clean.”
I smile. Glad that my first time with him can be free of any worries.
“And I’m on the pill.”
He chuckles. “So I don’t have to worry about knocking you up.”
“No. Not a chance. I want all of you, Snake.”
Snake positions himself between my legs, and I feel him gently thrust himself inside me. I’m tight and, though I’m excited and ready, I’m still a bit anxious.