Chapter Seven
Shasta
Sandman’s kisses were everything I pictured in my head. He was strong yet gentle, and there was a basic desperation behind it, but also a strong possession in the way he silently prodded me for more.
Maybe it was the fucked-up situation I left back home, or my undying need to even the score. Whatever the reason, something led me to Sandman’s arms, and now I was powerless against him.
I wanted this to happen, and I didn’t give two shits who found out about it.
Very delicately, his fingers moved into my hair, grabbing hold as he crawled over me, positioning his body between my legs. My greedy fingers dug under his shirt, caressing the muscles I’d been dying to touch since the whole thing started. He groaned, quickly shedding his cut and shirt and shimming out of his pants and briefs until he was nothing but solid muscle and flesh.
My breath hitched when I saw the mammoth thing, harden like steel, swinging between his legs.That isn’t a penis, that’s a goddamn broomstick!
I already knew it was big since I could barely fit it into my mouth and I only made it half mast before he was buried in my throat. But seeing it like this… fully visible and hard as fuck, had me second guessing if it would tear me apart and fucking kill me.
Tugging at my shorts, he moved them down my body, growling when he noticed the tiny wet spot in my panties that had already pooled between my legs.
He kissed his way down my body, but abruptly stopped when he noticed my greatest secret.
“Darlin’, what’s this?” he asked, fingering the scar.
I covered my stomach in embarrassment, not sure if I should even bring up that skeleton always lurking in my closet.
“It’s nothing,” I said weakly, forcing myself to look anywhere but at the pity in his eyes.
“Hey now, Shasta, don’t do that. Don’t shut off when we’re just letting each other in.”
I wanted to tell him. God, did I want to tell him. But I was afraid of the repercussions. Sandman seemed like the kind of guy who would rage over something like this, and I didn’t want that to backfire on either of us.
“I can’t—” my voice broke. “I want to tell you, but I can’t. It will only cause more problems for me.
“Darlin’, please. If you think I’d let that man harm one hair on your pretty little head, you’re sadly mistaken. Besides, I have two brothers at the clubhouse who I’m sure would say the same.”
My gaze returned to his, and my whole body melted. He looked utterly concerned, and thinking about Sandman, Clash, and Snyder brought tears back to my eyes. I’d felt more wanted in the last few weeks than I had in years at Sabbath’s side. Laying here now, looking up at the beast of a man above me, only solidified that desire for more attention. It was nice to feel coveted and craved. It was nice to think that there were men in this world who would treat me like a fragile cup, and cherish me like I was made out of gold.
“It’s a scar,” I whispered, horrified that I was even speaking at all. “A scar from the botched abortion Sabbath forced me to have.”
Sandman’s eyes went from concerned to deadly within seconds. “He fucking made you do what?”
Tears spilled down my cheeks as the warm summer breeze chilled my skin. I sat up, curling into a frightened fetal position, clutching my knees for comfort as my body swayed back and forth recklessly. I knew that what I was about to do was going to change the course of everything. There was no more hiding behind the secrets and lies of Sabbath’s past—not after Nina—and definitely not after today. I was done covering for a man who blatantly didn’t give a fuck about me. I was just ready to slice open the wound and bleed out everything I was holding in.
“It’s a long story,” I whispered weakly. “One that I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to tell.”
His hands clenched as he tried to contain his emotions, anger vibrating the very core that looked so strong and comforting. But I was too caught up in my own past to ask for comfort, too consumed with all the fucked-up shit that brought me to this time in my life.
“I have time,” he whispered, pulling me into him until I was curled up into his lap and we were pressed together, flesh to flesh.
Being in Sandman’s arms made me feel completely free, and safer than I ever felt before. He was easy to talk to, and sexy as all hell, but I needed him more than he realized. Hell, I needed them all…
But I knew that revealing Sabbath’s secrets and lies was going to turn his club against him even more. Now, all I could do was wonder if I was ready for the isolation and resentment that came with an apocalypse once all my truth bombs were dropped. I was holding the proverbial pin, but I wasn’t too sure if I should pull my arm back and launch the grenade that would force us all into oblivion.
Chapter Eight
Sandman
One minute, we were seconds away from fucking. Now she was a blubbering naked mess in my arms. I could feel her trail of tears running down my biceps, and I felt for this woman who was the epitome of perfection and a catalyst for despair.
“Tell me everything, Shasta. Don’t hold this shit in anymore.”