The bed dips from Big Chief’s weight when he lies on his side of the bed, the pillow wall we built yesterday gone from the night’s activities. A hand rests on my head and he brushes the hair from my face. Licking my lips, I open them wanting to say something but the bliss from the alcohol and being nearly asleep has me moan instead.
“You’re going to get me killed,” he whispers with so much pain in his voice I feel it in my heart.
13
Big Chief
A loud humming sound startles me awake. I shoot up and look all around the room finding the lights are on, the electricity is back. The curtains on the window are fluttering just above the air-conditioning and the room feels cooler.
“Thank god,” I mutter, getting out of bed, I grab the remote and turn the TV on, tossing it on the nightstand. My body is sweaty from the hot night and I need another shower. Going to the bathroom, a bobble-headed blonde is on TV is pointing to all of the destruction in the downtown area from the storm last night, looks bad. Closing the bathroom door behind me, I stand in front of the mirror, my hands on the counter, I stare at my reflection. The man before me looks tired. The stubble on my cheeks has grown into scruff and I need to shave. Rubbing my cheeks, my knuckles are stiff and ache. They always do this in the mornings. Removing my hand from my face I stretch out my fingers wondering if this shit is ever going to go away. It’s from bull riding, gripping the straps of the bull for fifteen seconds at a time every weekend for years has taken a toll on my hands and body.
Grabbing the aspirin on the counter that Delilah has been using for her face, I pop two into my palm, turn the faucet on and gulp them down with the cool rusty tasting water coming from the tap.
Turning the faucet off, I shake the droplets off my wet hands and dry them on my sweats. God, I miss the rodeo. The adrenaline rush and competitiveness. My mother hated it, which every mom, wife, or girlfriend usually did. The time I ended up in the hospital with three broken ribs, concussion, and a punctured lung, my mom cleaned her hands of me. I don’t blame her though, I can’t imagine what she felt always getting a phone call from the emergency room every time I had my ass stomped.
Eventually I learned the life of the rodeo wasn’t the life for me, more like I didn’t have a choice but to leave but it was for the best. If I stayed, I probably would’ve been killed or injured to the point of not able to wipe my own ass.
Years ago I helped the club handle some serious shit, we killed someone, so they owed me one. So when shit hit the fan back home, I ghosted the rodeo gig and came to the Devil’s Dust, haven’t left since.
“Big Chief…” the little sweet voice has me snap out of memory lane and glance toward the doorway. Delilah stands there looking at me with big beautiful doe eyes, my shirt looking sexy as ever on her. “About last night…” She looks toward the mirror with embarrassment reddening her cheeks, her hand lifting in the air as if she’s gripping at what to say next.
My heart hammers against my chest looking at her this morning, I’ve tried so hard to be a good man and stay away from her but I can’t help myself, I want her so fucking badly and she wants me. Her dad’s fucking rules are unrealistic. How can he raise a girl like D in a club atmosphere and not expect her to be attracted to that kind of life?
Closing the space between us in two large steps, my hand firmly grips on to the nape of her sweet neck and I jerk her head upward so she’s looking right at me; only me. Her bright eyes show me more than she lets on, she might be hard on the outside but there’s something gentle and begging for love on the inside. Fuck, they’re so bright and full of anger and desire. Her lips part, her eyes fluttering with lust, she’d do anything to have me touch her, to make her my woman and doing so would make me feel like a goddamn king. Looking her mouth over, I can’t help but think it’s perfect, the natural color of her lips, their shape has me imagining them wrapped around my cock.
“Delilah.” Groaning, I grab her tit and rub my thumb over the thin material of the shirt, her nipple instantly hardening beneath my palm.
“What are you doing?” she whispers huskily, her body swaying into me. She knows what I’m doing, but I sure as fuck don’t.