Page 11 of Skully’s Property (Savage Knights MC: NW Chapter #2)

Madison

“ H ey, Madsters! Would you mind taking another package down to Skully’s room?”

Ripper hands me another box, and I nod, quickly darting off into the bathroom to check my appearance and touch up my makeup before I go down to deliver it. My stomach is filled with nerves, but I’m braced for his anger today, knowing what to expect.

All night I was thinking about what Ripper said, and Skully’s reaction, and I’m certain it’s the truth.

He’s determined to push everyone away. Whether it’s his pride or the pain over what happened, he’s latched onto the anger and now it’s become his safety net.

Now, that I know that, I’m determined to become the one he clings to instead.

“Hey, Skully! It’s Maddy again.” I knock twice. “I have another package for you.”

His grunt for me to come in has the tension loosening a little.

It’s already a better reaction than the one he had yesterday.

He’s sitting at his table drawing again.

This time, I don’t hesitate. I walk right over and place the box down for him.

And instead of trying to flee, I linger, studying his drawings.

He has pages and pages of them scattered across the table.

I notice one of me, every detail perfect down to my aqua-colored eyes.

Then another. And another. He has so many of me.

My heart starts to race. I don’t think he would be drawing me if he didn’t still care.

I pick one up, noticing that the eyes are off.

I look scared in the image. I wonder if that’s what he saw when he woke in that hospital bed.

I wonder if that’s the reason he sent me away.

It was the terror that he wasn’t going to make it.

He’d lost so much blood, and when they did the surgery, his body went into cardiac arrest. I’ve never been so afraid in my life.

“Why do you draw me?” The question slips out as I study the picture, but when his entire body tenses in his chair, I wished it hadn’t.

The paper is suddenly ripped from my hand. He grabs the others too and starts to shove them under his pile. In his frantic movement, his pens get knocked to the ground. Colored pens scattering everywhere. I quickly drop to my knees, crawling around to pick them up. Wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

I chance a glance over my shoulder to see if he’s angry with me, but I’m struck by the look in his eyes.

He’s staring at my backside, and there’s desire burning fiercely in his stare.

His teeth are biting into his bottom lip as if he’s swallowing a groan.

It’s a look I remember, and it makes my blood run hot.

The buzz starts to trickle through me, and I crawl forward to get another pen, spreading my legs a little wider, hoping he can see the evidence between my thighs.

My skirt has ridden up, and if he looks closely enough, he can see how soaked I am.

I reach for the pen and chance another glance in his direction, but he notices this time and is quick to redirect his attention.

But he can’t slow his heaving chest or stop his cheeks from burning red.

I can see what I’m doing to him, and I want to do more.

I turn and start crawling toward his chair, trying to garner the nerve to make a move.

My eyes drift down between his legs, and when I see the effect I’m having on him, the massive prominent effect, it gives me the courage to keep advancing.

His cock is making a tent under his jogging pants, and it draws a moan straight from my throat.

He jerks at the sound. Like I’ve snapped him from some kind of trance. He quickly shifts his chair away from me, putting a cold distance between us, and his entire face has gone frozen again with that anger he wears so well.

“Leave the fucking markers and get out.”

I swallow back the nerves that are creeping up my throat and rise off the ground.

I don’t understand what’s wrong. I don’t understand why he’s so angry with me.

He obviously still wants me. And I want him more than I can breathe.

The ache is pulsing so deep within my gut I wake up in a sweat at night longing for him to take the ache away.

It’s drilled deeper and deeper every day since he left me in this room, promising he’d come back and finish what we started.

I so desperately want to ask him why, but the look he gives me has me placing the markers back on his table and rushing out.

As soon as I’m out of his room, I take a deep breath, trying to regain a hold on my shaking nerves.

Trying to make sense of what just happened.

It’s obvious he still desires me, but he still shut me out.

I don’t understand it. But I do know one thing is for certain: I’m not going to stop trying. Tomorrow and the next day, I’m going to keep coming back. I won’t stop until he remembers what we had, until he remembers how good it was. Because it was perfect.