Page 1 of Creed (Satan’s Fury MC- Little Rock #6)

“ D id you talk to him?”

“Hmm?”

“Preacher...” That familiar blush crept across her bare chest as she tilted her head back and let out a needful sigh. “Did you talk to him?”

I didn’t answer.

Answering would mean I would have to move my mouth, and at the moment, I was doing my damnedest to make my lady come. She was sprawled back on my bed with her knees up and her back arched, and if her ragged breath was any indication, I was succeeding in my endeavors.

I hoped it would be enough to disrupt her train of thought, so I kept at it. Teasing and tormenting in the way that I knew got to her the most. I almost had her to the breaking point when she suddenly inched her hips back, breaking the latch on her clit. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Come on, baby. Do we really gotta talk about this now?”

“Yeah, actually, we do.” She rolled to her side before reaching down and grabbing her panties from the floor, hastily jerking them up her legs. “This is just a waste of time.”

“I don’t know. I thought we were making pretty good use of time until about two seconds ago.”

“You promised.”

And just like that, my dick went limp, and my hopes for a sated, restful afternoon shot out the door.

Damn.

“You make it sound like I had a choice in the matter.”

“You did!”

“I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t get it.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” She threw her hands up. “You have an entire life filled with people you clearly love and want to protect, but you won’t share them with me. I just get little snippets of stories or pictures on your phone, and that’s not fair.”

“It’s complicated.”

Devin was a five-foot-ten absolute stunner with a mouth that could cut me down just as fast as it could make me beg.

I’d never met a woman like her. She was headstrong and had a drive in her to succeed in whatever she wanted.

Didn’t matter how hard or out of reach something might’ve been.

If she wanted it, she was going to go after it.

And for just over two years, I was what she’d wanted.

She loved me hard and loved me good. Better than anyone had before, and I wanted her. God, how I wanted her.

But God liked to look down on me and laugh at the fuckery that was my life. He knew when he sent her walking into that bar with that short damn mini-skirt and barely-there tank top that she was a cop, and I couldn’t have her.

Most men wouldn’t have cared that a smoking hot chick like her wore a badge, but I wasn’t most guys.

I was a member of one of the most notorious MCs in the South, and I’d fought hard to get there.

I couldn’t jeopardize their lives and mine by bringing a cop into the fold.

It wouldn’t just be dangerous. It would be a betrayal, and even though I loved her, I couldn’t let that happen.

She leaned in and rested her head on my shoulder. She would never say it, but she was hurting. I could feel it in my bones, and it killed me that I couldn’t do anything about it. “I love you, Jameson.”

“I love you, too.”

“Then, why haven’t you talked to him?”

I didn’t answer right away.

I just stared across the room like I was trying to think of the right thing to say. My gut twisted as I dragged my hand over my face. "This isn’t the right time, Devin. There’s too much shit going on."

That wasn’t a lie.

Fury was working hard to make a name for itself and the Vault, and rival clubs weren’t making it easy. Tensions were high, and we couldn’t afford any distractions. Couldn’t afford any weaknesses. This thing we had going on was both.

She shifted her body, and I immediately missed the warmth of her skin next to mine. "You always say that. Another time. Another day.”

"You know I care about you."

"I do." She gave me a soft smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And I care about you.”

“We’ve got a good thing here.”

“We do. We really do; I was just hoping for something more.”

I could’ve told her how I really felt.

I could’ve told her that if life were different, if I wasn’t who I was, and if she didn’t have that badge, I’d claim her and put a ring on her finger.

But those words wouldn’t change anything.

I knew it. She knew it, too. No matter what either of us felt, there would come a time when one of us would have to test our love against our loyalties.

I couldn’t let that happen.

She got up, and there was a finality in the way she slowly started getting dressed. She wouldn’t look at me, and it made my chest ache. This was it. Fuck me, I was losing her. I knew it was coming. I couldn’t keep stringing her along, but I was hoping I’d have more time.

She pulled on her hoodie and slipped on her shoes and started out of the room. I didn’t bother trying to convince her to stay. I knew there was no point, so I got up and followed her to the door.

She turned to face me, and for a second, I saw it.

That flicker of hope. Hope that I might try to stop her. Hope that I might fight for her. For us.

I didn’t.

She gave me one last smile.

Soft. Familiar. But empty.

"Take care of yourself, Jameson."

And then she was gone.

I closed the door, went back to the bedroom, and collapsed on the bed. The sheets were still warm where she’d been, but the room already felt cold. I knew deep in my bones I wouldn’t be seeing her again.

And I’d never stop regretting the fact I’d let her walk out that door.