Page 46 of Wild Side (Vicious Reapers MC #3)

LIGHTNING

ONE MONTH LATER

I may not be able to catch the fucker who shot me, but what I can do is watch the fuck who was stalking my woman for months and scaring the absolute fuck out of her. Viking stands next to me, and I hear him let out a grunt at the sight of the weaselly fuck as he walks from the parking garage.

“That’s the guy?” Viking asks.

“That’s the asshole,” I quip.

I know it’s him because after Briana gave me his name, Piggy looked him up. He’s been arrested in the past for menacing stalking, but no charges have ever stuck. I’m here to make sure he never does this shit again.

“What a little piece of shit,” Viking snorts.

I concur. A speck of goddamn shit is what he is.

Sliding my tongue along my bottom lip, I tilt my head to the side and take him in.

He’s watching someone else. He’s hugged up against the side of a building, his focus upward.

Following his gaze, I notice it’s an apartment building he’s got his sights on.

Fuck this.

I don’t have to say a word to Viking. He knows exactly what I have in mind when I start walking toward this asshole. The little piece of garbage doesn’t even realize we’re approaching him as we do. He’s too focused on the building in front of him.

We crowd him, standing a bit too close, making it so that he cannot get away from us, even if he tries. He is forced to switch his focus from the building to us. When his gaze flicks to me, I watch as the color drains from his face.

“You have a little problem, don’t you?” I ask.

His eyes widen, his lips part, and he lets out a loud exhale, but otherwise doesn’t say a single word. Riding seven hours to get here should feel like a waste of time, especially since I’m not going to actually do anything to this idiot.

My incisions are sore, but my body is mostly healed. Just the look of fear in his eyes is worth it. Worth every goddamn hour on my bike.

“You got a problem with following women around and making them feel uncomfortable. You get off on psychologically fucking with them, don’t you?”

His mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words come out. The only good thing about this guy is that he’s not so obsessed with Briana he followed her back to North Carolina. It seems as if he’s got no problem adjusting his focus when one woman doesn’t work out.

I think he might just be a pervert. That doesn’t make it okay, and it certainly doesn’t make it right.

“You need to get in your fucking car and drive far away from this woman and every other fucking woman on the planet,” I grind out.

I know without a doubt that what I’m demanding isn’t even possible. Not when women make up more than half of the population. Doesn’t matter. It’s what I fucking want. This asshole needs to disappear.

He doesn’t speak. He swallows what I assume is a lump in his throat, making it almost impossible. I actually hear him swallow audibly, then I hear something else. And without even having to look, I know this fucker has pissed his pants. I would laugh if I weren’t so annoyed with his existence.

“We’ll be watching you, and if you ever fuck with another woman, we will find you. You will pay for what you’ve done,” Viking grinds out.

We take a step backward, allowing him to run away. He does like the vermin he is. Looking over to Viking, I jerk my chin, my lips curving up into a smirk.

“I hate assholes,” Viking states.

“Let’s go back home.”

Together we walk away, hopefully having helped another woman find a sense of freedom from that asshole. And also, hopefully, we’ve saved countless future women from his brand of weird.

I am going to continue to keep an eye on his digital footprint, though.

Climbing onto our bikes, we ride home. I have a woman waiting for me.

My woman.

brIANA

SEVEN HOURS LATER

The front door opens, and I shift my attention from the television to the man standing in the doorway.

My man.

I search his face for any indication of pain. He takes a couple of steps toward the living room, then sinks down in the armchair with a whoosh. I watch as his eyes slide closed and he tips his head back with a groan.

“Fourteen hours on a bike was too long,” I state.

I’ve been watching him on Life360 since he left. I know how many breaks he didn’t take and how long he rode that bike without stopping for more than a few moments to refill the tank. He should have taken longer. There is zero reason that he couldn’t have spent the night in a hotel and rested.

“I wanted to get home to you, babe,” he says.

Standing from the sofa, I walk toward him. I think about sinking down on his lap, but I don’t want him to be in any more pain than he’s already in. So instead, I sink down between his legs, and he widens them to accommodate me.

Placing my palms on his thighs, I look up into his eyes as he flicks them down to me. Our gazes connect, and my heart soars. Butterflies fill my belly, and I wonder how it’s possible to always feel this way about him.

“Your body needs the rest, Light, to heal.”

He shakes his head once, then I feel his hand cup my cheek. His thumb slides across my bottom lip, tugging on it slightly. Reaching for his belt, I unbuckle it, then unbutton and unzip his jeans.

“Briana,” he says, his tone full of faux warning.

Standing, I shove my sleep shorts down before I climb into the chair, straddling him. His hands grip my hips as he holds me. “I’ll do all the work, you just rest,” I whisper.

His lips twitch into a smirk as I lower myself, taking all of him inside me. Once I’m settled down, fully seated with his thick length filling me, I lift my hands and rest them on his shoulders.

My eyes are focused on his, the connection unbreakable as we stare at one another, both of us unmoving. His hands move from my hips, his fingertips gently glide up my sides, and then I feel him cup my breasts. His thumbs slide across my already hardened nipples as his gaze searches mine.

“You never have to worry about him again, babe. Not fucking ever. I will protect you with my life. Always,” he murmurs.

I know who he’s talking about, I know where he went, and while I wasn’t extremely concerned, I can admit that there was a level of worry that I don’t think was ever going to go away completely.

That man watched me for weeks, followed me, and made himself visible to me at every moment possible. He did it to mess with my head, and it was working. I hadn’t been going outside, I hadn’t been living any kind of life.

I’m back to living now.

“I love you, Briana.”

My eyes widen, and I’m taken completely out of my head with that declaration. My lips part in awe as I look down at this man. This wild man who owned me with a single touch over a year ago, even if I didn’t know it yet, even if I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself, it was still a fact.

Grant owns me. Every single piece of me. I was meant for him and meant to be his.

I begin to move my hips, to rock them and feel the way he stretches me. The way he fills me and consumes me all at the same time. Shifting my torso forward, I touch my mouth to his, my lips pressing against his, and only then, when I can feel his warm breath against my mouth, do I speak.

“I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you, Grant. And I will love you with my final breath.”

No other words need to be spoken. His fingers flex against my breasts, and that’s when I continue to move. I keep my mouth against his, needing to feel his breath on mine, needing to inhale his exhale. I want all of him, as much of him as possible, inside me.

Lightning is my present and my future. There is nobody else on this earth who makes me feel the way that he does. My soul is at peace. I no longer feel the need to run, because there is nowhere else to go.

This is where I belong.

In his arms.