Page 23 of Other Woman Drama (Content Advisory #4)

Twenty

Are you okay? No, I’ve been the same height since I was twelve.

— Silver’s secret thoughts

SILVER

The doorbell rang, and Webber jackknifed off the bed, thankful that he had a reason to leave.

I was angry.

For the first time in two weeks, Eedie was at a sleepover at her friend’s place—not that I didn’t love having Eedie around, but Webber used her as an excuse to keep me at arm’s length, so to speak—and the house was empty.

I thought this would be my day.

I thought wrong.

I flopped onto my back with a groan as I watched Webber’s backside disappear out of the room.

It didn’t appear to be on fire, but he was acting like it.

I was frustrated.

Both sexually and mentally.

Webber wouldn’t touch me.

Not because he didn’t want to, or I didn’t want him to, but because he was treating me reverently. Like I was some spun glass gift that would break if he handled me too roughly.

Maybe, instead of spending the last two weeks recovering at his place, I should’ve spent it recovering at Aella’s.

At least if I’d done that, I would’ve had my sister seeing me battered and bruised and not Webber.

He couldn’t use the “you’re healing” and “you’re still really roughed up” as an excuse not to touch me in a sexual way.

There was plenty of touching—I’d cuddled the big, sexy beast of a man every night for two weeks—but nothing inappropriate.

Webber’s deep voice sounded from the living room, and I had to squeeze my legs together to keep the ache at bay.

Sadly, the pressure only made it worse, and I started to get angry.

A second man’s voice sounded, and I had to count to ten as I forced myself to sit up, then slide off Webber’s massive bed.

My feet hit the ground, and I looked down at what I was wearing.

For the last two weeks, I’d survived on Webber’s t-shirts and sweats.

I wore my own underwear, but that was the only thing I’d worn of mine in what felt like forever.

Hell, I was even wearing his deodorant.

That would change tomorrow.

I would be going back to work, because the first step in proving that I was healthy enough for him to move beyond the platonic touching stage was to show him I was getting better.

Even if the thought of leaving Webber’s house sent me into a full-blown panic.

Moran was still out there.

And though I knew that Webber had given my dad enough warning to stay the hell away from me, I knew that he wouldn’t be gone forever.

He’d lick his wounds, regroup, then show back up.

Not that I was too scared of my dad.

He was a scary man at times, but I’d had years of training to deal with people like him.

People like Cadence Moran, too.

I wouldn’t be caught unaware again.

Tomorrow, I’d also go to Jiu Jitsu.

Shaw had been begging me for a week to come out and get a little sparring in, even if it was light.

I’d been putting her off, but I wouldn’t be doing that anymore.

When Webber left for work tomorrow, I’d be heading out.

Hopefully, that allowed me to have a bit more confidence, too.

I couldn’t stay cooped up at Webber’s forever.

One, it wasn’t healthy to stay inside that much.

Two, I had a feeling if I put it off any longer, I would never get back out there.

Three, I was desperate to see something other than Webber’s house.

I wanted to go to Target and aimlessly walk through the aisles and buy stuff I didn’t need.

I wanted to go to Tractor Supply and see the chicks that I knew would be out.

I wanted to go roll around on the mats at Slow Roll and get sweaty.

Decision made that I would not be this weak, timid woman anymore, I got up and walked to the bathroom, surveying myself in the mirror.

My hair was down around my shoulders, long and slick because I’d washed it this morning and blow dried it.

My eyes still had some bruising under them, but everything was fading away.

I could probably cover up what was left with some makeup and no one would be the wiser.

I was skinnier.

I’d lost some weight, but likely that was all muscle because I hadn’t been able to go to Jiu Jitsu and get a workout in.

I poked one cheek where there was an underlying bruise that was stubbornly staying ever present, then turned around and marched out of the room.

Both sets of eyes came my way when I walked into the living room.

Webber’s went dark with fury and Cakes grinned wildly. “Well hello there, Silver. Our fearless leader’s old lady.”

I tilted my head. “I’m not old.”

Cakes’ grin got even bigger. “Never said you were old. Just that you were his old lady. It’s a biker term. You need to start cramming since you’re gonna be the head old lady in charge.”

My brows rose and I looked to Webber. “Is old lady a bad thing?”

His eyes went from my bare legs to my eyes as he said, “No. It’s what you are. You’re mine.”

I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest, which only served to make the t-shirt I was wearing shorter.

Though, Webber was fairly huge, and his t-shirts reflected that. I still had about four inches to spare before anything vital was showing.

“What are you doing here, Cakes?” I asked.

Cakes eyes flicked to Webber, then back to me. “Uhhh…”

“You can talk freely in front of her,” Webber murmured. “I’ll tell her anyway.”

Cakes nodded, then said, “There’s been no sign of Cadence Moran.

The father, the FBI director, has also fallen off radar.

They’ve both taken leave of absences with their respective departments, though Moran took hers before she was fired but won’t actually have a job to come back to.

Anyway, they’re smart and they’re not using any of their cards or known cell phones, so we can’t track them that way.

Pretty much what I was telling Webber before you came in here, they’re ghosts, and we have no way to track them until they actually want to be found. ”

I nodded. “Is there anything else?”

His lips twitched. “Your dad moved out of state.”

“Awesome,” she said. “And that’s it?”

“That’s it,” he confirmed.

“Then you need to get out of here, because I’m about to take my shirt off, and Piers might not like you seeing my boobs,” I said as I grabbed the hem of my shirt.

Cakes laughed then turned around and gave me his back.

I had my t-shirt off before he was out the door.

Piers watched as I took it off and dropped it to the floor.

He didn’t make a move, which only pissed me off more.

“I’m not breakable, Piers!” I bellowed, throwing my arms up in the air.

Cakes cleared his throat and said, “I’m just gonna head out. Let me know what you want to do…later.”

Cakes exited, and I didn’t even care.

I stayed glaring at the man that wouldn’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.

Not only wouldn’t he touch me, but now he was telling me I was weak and breakable, and maybe it would be best for me not to ride on the back of his bike with him, but in a stupid truck by myself, on a poker run?

Absolutely not.

I refused to go if I wasn’t going to be on the back of his bike.

“You’re not breakable?” he asked, coming in close. “If you’re not breakable, why did you piss blood for a week?”

I snapped my mouth shut.

“If you’re not breakable, why did me holding you in my arms cause you pain for three full days?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes.

“If you’re not breakable, then why the fuck did I watch you wince every time you put on your panties the first three days?” he continued.

I didn’t have an answer for that.

“You had bruises on almost every inch on the left side of your body,” he continued.

“You had abrasions and contusions. Your eyes literally just opened up well enough to see for the first time in two weeks. Today, I watched you laugh and not wince in pain. So tell me, Silver. If you’re not breakable, why the fuck were you acting like it? Looking like it?”

I clenched my jaw.

“Tell me.” He came in closer until his mouth was closer to mine. “What would you do if that was me? Would you take advantage of me when I’m vulnerable?”

I poked him in the chest. “Yes! If you asked me to! And just sayin’, but the same things would’ve happened to you had you been in my situation!”

He blew out a breath that fanned my lips.

“That’s not how it works. I’m not breakable like you are.

I’m a man, honey. I wouldn’t have gone down with a punch.

I wouldn’t have had to lie there and protect my vital organs and head in the fetal position if I found myself on the ground.

You survived the only way you could. Yes, you’re breakable. But that’s not a bad thing.”

I threw up my hands, which caused the hat he was wearing to flip off his head.

“Well, it’s a bad thing to me when you won’t touch me!

When I physically ache to have you inside of me!

When I want to be thrown onto the bed we’ve shared for two weeks and fucked so hard that I can’t catch my breath!

This is the biggest nightmare ever, and the worst part wasn’t getting beat up.

The worst part is, by far, you treating me like I’m some broken doll that you have to handle with care!

I don’t need to be handled with care! I need to be fucked, Piers! ”

Something I said must’ve finally resonated with him because he moved.

He had me in his arms, and he was kissing the holy hell out of me.

I’d never, not in my entire existence, had a kiss like this.

Not even from the man doing the kissing.

It was angry.

Desperate.

Overwhelmingly, deeply, all-consuming.

It was everything, and I didn’t think I’d ever recover from this kiss.

He poured all of his frustrations, his need, his love…all of it went into the one kiss.

He growled into my mouth, and before I could really dig into it, he was pulling away with a growl of frustration.

I opened my mouth, ready to read him the riot act, but he had me spun around and bent over the back of the couch.

His hand came down my back, pulling my panties up and baring my ass, and then he was ripping them off of my body.

They were my favorite pair, too.

I’d worn them tonight because they were sexy, and also comfortable.

I’d been thinking to entice him.

And I guess I had.

Though, not with the panties.

I was fairly sure that he’d barely even looked at them before they were ripped.

“Is this what you want?” he asked darkly, and I felt something prodding at my entrance.

I gasped. “Yes.”

He pushed slightly inside, and I had a moment of panic thinking that it might not fit, but I was proved wrong when he thrust inside in one forceful push.

The air left my lungs, and there was nothing left inside of me to scream with.

Oh, god.

I was full.

So. Full.

And I felt like a million bucks.

This was exactly what I needed.

This, right here. Him inside of me, filling me up to the brim.

Bare…

Shit.

Bare.

“I’m not on birth control,” I breathed, my eyes screwed shut. “Oh, fuck, Piers, don’t move or I’ll come.”

He pulled out, and I didn’t know whether to cry or thank him, when he slammed back inside.

That was all it took.

“I’m coming.” I told him the obvious.

His big hand squeezed the globe of my ass as he said, “Yeah, you fucking are.”

“You have to,” I said between gasping breaths as my world blew apart and slowly pieced itself back together with Webber directly in the middle. “Pull out.”

He laughed manically.

“Thought you wanted a bunch of kids?” he asked darkly, fucking me into the back of the couch. “Thought that was your dream? To stay at home? Take care of your man?”

I licked my lips as all my dreams came so close that I could almost reach them.

“Well, guess what, baby. I’m going to give you your dreams,” he said in a deep, strangled voice.

“I’m going to give you all the babies you want.

I’m going to buy you a house in the country.

I’m going to come home to you every night and let you feed me.

I’m going to spoil the hell out of you. One dream at a time, I’ll make sure you have the world you want. ”

Then he came, repeating my name like a mantra, as he filled me up with the start of my dreams.