Page 27 of Shadow’s Protection (Hurricane Heat MC #1)

Violet

Dinner is lively tonight, and to my relief, no one talks about Clive and what happened. Maybe it’s part of some unspoken code here. I don’t know.

The only way I can stop my hands from shaking and myself from feeling sick is to repeat in my head over and over that I’m safe for now. I had no idea Clive could be capable of really hurting anyone—let alone tracking me down and showing up with a baseball bat studded with nails. Who does that?

I must be staring into space because Jackie shouts over the conversations at the table. “Hey, nerd girl! You wanna pass that salad you spent so much time on?”

I reach for the salad bowl and send it down the table. Tonight, most of the guys are sitting on the couches, drinking and watching college sports. They’re eating together with plates on their laps, and just the women are at the table.

It hits me that this is my last meal here.

The last time I can look over and see Cammy laughing her butt off.

The last time Stella will grab my sleeve to whisper some hilarious detail about a running joke that I’m too new to understand.

This is the last time I will follow Shadow’s massive arms and shoulders with my eyes as he jokes around with his biker brothers.

“So, what’s next, librarian? Where’s home when you’re not riding out a storm at the compound?” Stella’s question is innocent enough, but it brings the reality of the situation back in a rush.

I give her the simplest answer, swallowing down a mouthful of salad, my throat suddenly very dry. “I’m hoping the condo I’m renting is ready.”

She gets dragged into some conversation by Penny. I finish my dinner in silence, just listening and watching the women chat. There are curses and laughter, shouts, and even smoke as someone lights up something that definitely isn’t a cigarette.

I feel someone looking at me, and I glance up to meet Shadow’s intense stare.

He’s frowning, and that expression only deepens when he sees me looking back at him.

Is he ready for me to go? To get out of his hair and stop freeloading?

I haven’t eaten or drunk that much, and they’ve all been really generous about feeding me, but I wonder if I should offer to pay for my food or something.

There is still so much about this place and these people I don’t fully understand.

As much as this place shocked and terrified me at first, one thing I do believe is that it’s a home. There are people who care about one another here. Meals and shared experiences, games and love. Lust, I correct myself. Lust.

What Shadow and I have sure as heck can’t be anything more than that. But these people share a certain kind of love with one another. And I feel fortunate to have been included in it for as long as I have.

When we’re done eating, I clear the table with Penny and one of the prospects, Jizzy.

“You all right?” he asks me. “After today?” He looks nervous. He either doesn’t think he should be talking to me, or he doesn’t want to bring up what happened.

I smile at the kid. “Thanks for asking. And don’t worry. I told Shadow I forced you to let me outside.”

“Shadow’ll get over it. What matters is that you’re safe. I kept you inside when it mattered.”

He wanders off toward the kitchen, his arms full of dirty dishes.

I follow him and am rolling up my sleeves to start loading up the dishwasher with Stella when Shadow appears in the kitchen.

He doesn’t say anything. Just leans in the doorway and watches me.

I look at him sadly, until Stella nudges my hip.

“Go on,” she says. “We got this.”

“I don’t mind—” I try to argue. I’m happy to help. After all they’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do, but Stella points.

“Go,” she says. “You cooked. No need to clean up too. Cammy’s just trying to get out of her turn.”

“Shut up, bitch.” Cammy is suddenly at my elbow, giving Stella a smirk before turning to me and holding out her hands. “Now, give me that plate, and go fuck your man.”

I flush hard. My man. I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond to that, so I don’t. I just hand Cammy the soapy plate, give Stella a sad smile, and walk to Shadow.

He doesn’t say anything, just turns, and I follow him back down the corridor toward his bedroom. Once we’re in his room, he shuts the door. The lights are off, and he slams my body against the closed door, locking me into place with an arm positioned above me.

“Violet James,” he breathes.

“Johnny Butcher,” I say.

We don’t say anything else. He lowers his mouth to mine and snakes a hand under my hair, pulling my face toward his. His lips tease mine, kissing lightly, slowly.

It’s like he’s imprinting the memory of how I feel on his brain. I think that’s what he’s doing because I’m doing it too.

I run my hands along the sides of his neck.

I stroke the stubble on his throat, cup his chin, and hold his bearded jaw close to my face.

I savor the taste of him, the mellow sweetness that will always remind me of whiskey.

I memorize the way his tongue probes my mouth, tasting, tangling, dancing with mine.

The kisses grow more intense, and I feel Shadow’s erection as he presses his hips against mine. I don’t know how many times I have had sex with this man, but tonight, I want to make love to him.

I have to leave this place soon. Nothing is holding me back now. The roads, my condo, Clive. I can make every excuse in the world, but what matters is that Shadow’s and my time has come to an end.

This is goodbye, and I want to make it count. I try to ignore the sting of tears that burn through my nose and behind my eyes. This is stupid. I’m still here, and this is a fling. Fun, right? This is what people my age do. We meet people, we connect. Story over. Chapter complete.

I’ve never been a casual person, but what future is there for me and a man like Shadow? I fumble with the zipper on his pants.

“Will you tell me about your tattoos?” I ask, my lips just inches from his. “I want to know all your stories.”

If he’s feeling anything about my question, he doesn’t reveal it.

“One last game?” he asks. “I don’t have any whiskey.”

I laugh in spite of my sadness. “No drinks,” I tell him. I want to be sharp tomorrow. When I have to make the tough decision and walk away. “Just questions and answers tonight.”

We move to the bed.

He gently takes off my top and pants, then unfastens my bra.

I feel cold, but I ignore the chill in the air, and after he unzips his jeans, I tug them down over his hips. I memorize the hairs on his legs, the muscles of his thighs. I kneel on the floor and kiss the tiny birthmark under his belly button.

Then we climb into bed. We hold each other for a few minutes, and I run my fingers along his right arm. “Start here,” I ask him. “Tell me everything.”

We talk for what feels like hours. He tells me about the shitty tattoos he got when he was in high school and let one of his buddies who wanted to be a tattoo artist work on him.

He has some cover-ups and some faded older work, but the gorgeous ink on his right shoulder and arm is what I’ll never forget.

His right shoulder has a skull etched in only black, the detail of the bones and shadows so intricate that it’s hard to look away from. The skull is what you’d notice if you only saw him in a sleeveless shirt, but along his triceps and over his shoulder are a flowing cloak and a scythe.

“The Grim Reaper?” I ask.

He nods. “King of Shadows.”

I rest my head on his chest and trace the lines of the skull with my fingers. “Are you a Shakespeare fan?”

Shadow snorts. “Sweetheart, I coasted through high school and never looked back. I don’t think I’ve ever even watched anything by Shakespeare, let alone read it.”

My hair spills out across his chest. “There is a fairy king in A Midsummer Night’s Dream ,” I explain.

“He is a contradictory guy. He’s a bit of a matchmaker in the story, and it all works out in the end, but he toys with people’s hearts,” I say.

Shadow’s heart beats hard under my fingers, and I breathe in the scent of his skin.

“At one point, he’s referred to as the King of Shadows.

Obscure literary reference, I know. Nerd girl,” I explain, grinning.

“You’re that and more,” he says quietly.

He rolls onto his side to face me. We hold hands facing each other, and Shadow kisses my forehead, my eyes, my nose. I lift my lips to him, and the kisses are soft again, exploring. I feel the press of his thick erection bob against my skin, and I sigh.

“I’m gonna miss this.” I reach my hand between us and wrap my fingers around his shaft. I fondle the underside of his penis, the silver barbell threaded through the skin. “And this,” I say, stroking the silver balls on either side with my fingers.

He groans and flops over onto his back. I kneel over him and kiss the head of his penis, then lick long, wet strokes up the underside. I wrap my lips around just the tip and suck lightly, using my tongue to lap at the base of his head.

He relaxes into my efforts. I suck him into my mouth, using my hand to add pressure to the shaft and stroke my way up and down his erection while my mouth forms a tight seal over his head.

“Fuck, Violet.” He grabs my hair and helps me set the pace, moving my head up and down gently.

I suck him hard, wanting to finish him in my mouth. I want to feel him inside me. I want one more night of his mouth on me, his perfect body fitted to mine. But first, I want to please him. Give him the one thing we haven’t shared yet.

When he stills his hands in my hair and murmurs, “Sweetheart, stop,” I don’t. I look up at him, my lips still wrapped around his cock.

He groans deep in his chest at the sight, and I smile, pulling my mouth from him only long enough to say, “Come in my mouth, Shadow. I want you to.”

He shakes his head. “I want to fuck you.”

“Later,” I promise. “First, I want this.”