Page 41 of Wild Side (Vicious Reapers MC #3)

brIANA

THREE MONTHS LATER

Well, the fact that I thought moving locations would make my life easier is laughable.

I was able to snag a fully furnished apartment when I landed in Cleveland, Ohio, for under fifteen hundred bucks a month.

It was a boon for me, being within budget and also completely and totally furnished with a view of Lake Erie.

It’s stunning.

I love it, but being here hasn’t fixed me.

In fact, I think I might be worse off than I was when I left Thunder Rock. Chewing on the corner of my bottom lip, I flick my gaze down to the man standing across the street. His focus is on me, his head tipped back, unabashedly, unashamed—he’s watching me.

When I moved here, the first thing I did was probably the worst thing I could have done. I joined the apps. I’m almost forty years old, and I don’t know what I was thinking. No, that’s a lie, I know exactly what I was thinking.

I was hoping to get over one man by getting under another.

It didn’t work. Not even a little bit.

And now I’ve got a stalker. I’m not sure what this guy thinks he’s going to gain from watching me, but I’m less than exciting. And he is unabashedly watching me, which means he doesn’t care that I know he’s there. He also knows that even if I call the cops, there’s probably nothing they’ll do.

Closing my curtains, I step backward and turn toward my bedroom. This is a one-bedroom apartment, and that’s using the term bedroom loosely because it’s more like a studio than anything.

Climbing into bed, I tug the sheet up to my chin and lift my hand, turning the television on. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but I have a feeling it’s time for me to move again. I also have a feeling that coming here was one gigantic self-misguided mistake.

LIGHTNING

Sinking my teeth into the corner of my bottom lip, I watch as the girl walks around the front desk of the motel.

I haven’t been here lately, haven’t had a need to fuck her, but here I am.

She narrows her eyes at me, lifting her hand as she places her palm against the center of my chest and tilts her head to look up at me.

Arching a brow, I wait for whatever she’s going to say. “Thought you were done with me,” she states.

She doesn’t say it nastily, but I can hear a bite to her tone, likely one of hurt. But I am not going to waste my time analyzing her words. I was done with her—until I wasn’t. But that’s more because of me than it is her.

None of which I actually voice.

Instead of responding to her, I reach behind her, tangling my fingers in her hair before I spin her around. She places her palms on the counter and bends over slightly. She’s wearing a skirt, no panties, almost like she was expecting me.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I look down at her ass peeking out from beneath her skirt, and as much as I try not to, I fail, because I imagine it’s Briana. I don’t even have to try either.

That’s the fucker of it all.

My body craves her so damn badly that every woman I’ve been with since she left, my mind has turned into her.

I imagine her body, her touch, her scent, and her fucking feel.

It’s her cunt I slip inside when I slam into this woman’s body.

I know it’s beyond fucked up. I know that, but I still do it.

I never once thought that I was a good and decent man.

That ship sailed years ago, but even I realize that this is a new kind of low.

“Yes,” she cries out.

Closing my eyes, I do my best to attempt to forget Briana. When that doesn’t work, the way I knew it wouldn’t, I focus my attention on both of us orgasming. It’s not this girl’s fault that I’m fucked in the head over a girl who walked away without even a second glance.

But did you give her a reason to stay?

The question hangs in the air around me. I try to shake it off, but it plays on a loop, over and over, inside my head. Over and over as my hips thrust, as our skin slaps with each stroke, and then I feel her fingernails graze my balls, and I know she’s close.

I continue fucking her until I feel her pussy clench, and her body trembles beneath mine. When she cries out, I allow myself to finish. Though I don’t come inside her, instead I pull out and jack myself until I come all over her ass.

Taking a step backward, I tug my jeans up and run my fingers through my hair. She looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes finding mine, and she smiles, although it seems like a sad smile.

“Go back to her, whoever she is.”