Page 3 of The Biker’s Savage Desire (Chaos Brothers MC #4)

I stare toward her as though the words I need will materialize in time, but they don’t. Instead, my cock thumps at the edge of my zipper, reminding me that I’m, in fact, a man who’s available for sexual healing.

Christ. I need to get out of this conversation.

“I mean, this is what people do. They get hurt and they find someone else to fill the cracks, right?” she continues, and I’m pretty sure I have to respond now.

“I haven’t dated in a decade, so I’ll be no help, but you’ve gotta pretty face. I’m sure you’ll bounce back.” Yeah, not sure that applied at all to what she said.

She glances at me in the dim light of the fire. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

“I think so.” I adjust the crackling log with the poker. “Not in a creepy way, though. It’s just an observation.”

“Phew.” She tucks down next to me at the fireplace, another granola bar already in her hand. “As long as it’s not creepy.”

“Not creepy,” I repeat, doing my best to keep my eyes on the fire and away from her curved frame.

“So why haven’t you dated in a decade?” She sips from a bottle of water she found in the bag. “Is there a tragic heartbreak backstory, or are you just wildly unlikeable?”

I huff out a dry laugh. “There’s no tragedy or dramatics. It’s worse. I let time slip. The club took priority, and the silence was easier than trying to figure someone out.”

“That’s tough, especially for a guy your age.”

My chest tightens. “My age, huh? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Calm down, Grumpelstiltskin. I didn’t mean to offend you.

I just… I don’t know. You’re old. You’ve been through a lot of shit.

I’m sure you’re tired.” She shrinks a little, as though she didn’t mean for her words to come across as harshly as they did.

“I’m tired and I’m only twenty-four. I can’t imagine what I’ll feel like at what… fifty-five?”

I sigh. “Forty-nine, but thanks.”

“Shit,” she drags in a deep breath and brushes her fingers back through her hair, “I’m sorry. Maybe I should take a nap. I’m exhausted and my brain is completely fried from all the drama yesterday. I could use like twelve years out here relaxing and I’m not sure that would be enough.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause love fuckin’ sucks. Not just love, feelings in general. That’s why I don’t see you handling the one-night thing very well.”

“What?”

“I mean, sure… it sounds good in theory. Screwing some stranger, having a wild night of fun and craziness, but, I don’t know, I think you’d have a hard time walking away after that.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Her tone is defensive.

“Okay… you wouldn’t. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I really wouldn’t,” she presses as though she’s trying to convince me. “I don’t even want to know the dude. I just want him to take control of me, show me a good time, and send me on my way.”

There’s that cock again, reminding me I’m the man for the job.

Fuck!

“Seriously,” her tone lifts, “I mean, what do I do with myself now? Am I supposed to go on like my ex didn’t cheat? Pretend like I don’t feel completely unlovable, unattractive, and unworthy?”

“Jesus, that how you’re feeling?”

“Yeah,” she nods with raised brows, “I can’t shake it. What’s so much better about the other girl? I mean, everything judging by the nudes, but… that’s why it sucks.”

“Okay, you need to stop. What he did isn’t a reflection of you. It’s about him. He’s empty. He’s seeking something you couldn’t have filled even if you wanted to. This other girl won’t fill it either.”

She blinks and her voice drops as she says, “So then, why does it feel like I have no value, like I got thrown away?”

I think over her question as I grab another log to toss into the flames.

“Reckon it’ll feel like that for a while, but throwing your virginity out the window and having a fun night with a random guy isn’t going to fix anything.

You’ll feel better when you stop lettin’ some asshole determine your worth. ”

She tilts her head to the side, her long crimson hair illuminating in the light of the fire. “Insightful, for a big, rough, inked-up biker man. I should listen, but my heart says the only thing that’ll pull me out is taking the power back.”

I narrow my brows and laugh under my breath. “And the power is…”

“Wild sex on my terms. Rough, crazy, out of this world, no holds bar, fucking. The dominant kind, where I can let go and enjoy myself. Feel adored and needed.” Her voice is breathy as she speaks, and I swear I’m about to volunteer as tribute.

“What about you? I saw that patch on your back. I’m pretty sure you know a thing or two about crooked decisions. ”

I stare at her for a long moment, unsure of what to say. Part of me wants to make some shit up and hide my past, but people talk. I’m sure she knows enough already. “And you’re not scared of me?”

She shrugs like it’s nothing, but her fingers worry at the edge of her dress, tugging, releasing, and then tugging again.

“I figure if you wanted me dead, you’d have done it already.” A flash of a smirk, quick and crooked appears. “You’d have done it before I got back to the cabin. I mean, the woods would’ve been cleaner. It was a prime opportunity.”

I huff out something between a scoff and a laugh. “You think that’s how it works?”

“I don’t know how it works.” She pauses, then softens as she says, “But if you were the kind of man I should be scared of, I think I’d feel it. I mean, your size is kind of intimidating, and your attitude earlier was giving off murderer vibes, but now, you seem kind of harmless… to me anyway .”

I don’t move. I just watch her and the way her eyes narrow slightly, like she’s trying to match puzzle pieces with missing edges.

“You should be scared,” I say finally. “I’m definitely fucked up.”

The air between us tightens, pressed heavy by an honesty that’s harsh but real.

“What made you start… killing people ?” she asks, still fiddling with the end of her dress.

“I don’t know… desperation, probably. I grew up poor.

Real poor. The kind of poor that leaves you invisible.

My ma and I lived in an old cabin west of Amarillo.

Soon as I was old enough, I started taking care of us.

Robbing stores to get food, sometimes a beer or two.

Spent some time in the hospital for a robbery gone bad, and found myself in the military after that, but I sent every penny back to my ma.

” I scrub my hand down over my beard and grab a toothpick out of my shirt pocket, chewing on the end as I say, “I watched good people do horrible things my whole damn life. That kind of violence brands itself on your bones.”

I shift the toothpick at the corner of my mouth and stare toward Mae, hoping maybe she can see past the broken parts of me, though I’m not sure why I care. The second this storm stops, we’ll go our separate ways.

“That sounds difficult, growing up like that.” Her voice is soft. “I bet feeling like you have no choice in life makes you do things you never thought you’d be capable of.”

“Ah, I don’t make excuses, but I didn’t wake up wantin’ to be a killer.

Truth is, I did what I had to. Got back from war, was offered big money for going after the scum of the earth with the MC, and I took it.

Set my ma up real nice, and she lived out her final days in luxury.

It wasn’t right, but it’s a part of who I am.

” I pull the wooden stick out of my mouth and toss it into the fire, watching as the flames snap and throw light across the cabin walls.

There’s a low hum behind my ribs. The kind that shows up when the truth lands and there’s nothing left to hide behind.

She didn’t bolt, didn’t recoil. That’s good. She just listened. Not sure what to do with that. That said, she isn’t saying much.

“You probably think I’m a monster now, huh?”

Her hand slides from her sleeve and slowly lands on my arm. “You’re not a monster. You’re a man who’s had to carry too much all alone.”

For a second I don’t say anything. Instead, I watch the flames coil around the newly placed log as heat spills into the room and something tighter coils around my chest. Something unfamiliar.

“Where’d you go?” Her voice is nearly a whisper.

“Ah, just watchin’ the fire.” I risk a glance her way.

It’s deadly.

She shifts closer, the soft fire glow warming her perfectly smooth skin.

I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I don’t speak. If I do, the cage doors will swing open, and I’ll be doing things animals do. Things that’ll wreck us both.

The resolve doesn’t last.

I lean in slowly, instinctively, without thought, as though she belongs to me, as though she always has.

Her breath catches as her hand fists into my shirt, and her eyes search mine.

I’m frozen in the moment, tangled between something not earned but offered. Lord knows I’m not a smooth talker. I’ve lived horridly, but this… this isn’t about charm. It’s about need, and heat, and the quiet desperation of two people trying to forget the world outside this cabin.

Her lips press against mine, slow and deliberate, and damn if I don’t feel it in every worn-down part of me.

What the fuck is happening?

I shouldn’t be touching her.

I definitely shouldn’t feel a damn thing about it, but I do.