Page 28 of Zeppelin (Satan’s Angels MC #9)
“Hold yourself open just like before. I want you to watch as I split you in half with my cock. Want you to see me glistening with your juices as I pull out and force your tight little hole to stretch back around me. I’m going to make you take it all, right to the hilt, right until my balls are slapping against your sweet little ass.
I’d flip you over and eat you there too, Ginny.
All you have to do is ask. Or beg. I like to hear you plead nicely for me. ”
“I changed my mind. You truly are an asshole.”
He grins above me, half feral and half so hot that my chest aches and my breath stutter-stops in my throat. “I’m an obsessed-hole. Obsessed with your gorgeous body. I want to make you come, over and over, until you’re so worn out that you can barely stand. I want to baptize you in my cum.”
“Baptize? I don’t know that there’s anything holy about semen.
” He frowns, but even that’s sexy as hell.
Probably more so because his dark eyes get even darker, bordering on deadly.
“And you should be careful. That sounds dangerously close to attachment.” I sass him because I’m so dangerously turned on that I could come from just the feel of his fingers digging into my ass.
I expect his scowl to crack and allow that cocky grin back, but it only deepens. “What’s wrong with my come?”
“Nothing. I was just joking.”
He jerks away, swinging himself easily off of me and over the bed. I sit up slowly, my head spinning like I just gave myself whiplash anyway.
“Zep?”
He snatches his shirt off the floor and tugs it on so brutally over his head that the fabric rips along the shoulder.
The right sleeve hangs there, gaping and useless.
It’s probably a mirror of what my face is doing.
I have no idea what’s happening. I’d jerk the sheet up over myself, but that would imply that I did something wrong and I was just joking.
We were playing. We’ve joked like this before.
I have no idea what’s wrong, but I’m sure that whatever it is wasn’t me.
I just triggered something, or pressed on something that already existed.
I sit up, dangling my feet over the edge of the bed, making it pretty darn clear that I’m not going to leave until we talk this out.
Zeppelin has other ideas. There’s nothing playful or joking about the way he goes into the bathroom and storms back out carrying my clothes. He dumps them onto the bed. “You should get going. It’s late and you still have to get to your sister’s yet.”
“Excuse me?” What the fuck is even happening right now?
“Tyrant and Raiden might change their mind about believing this is platonic if you’re in here too long. Best get going. Now.”
I shake my head, wet strands of hair whipping all around my face and neck. “Whoa. I- we were having fun . Together. We were both into it. I was just sassing you. I was running my mouth. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t. I should have known better.
This whole thing is fucked up. How could I ever have thought…
” he shakes his head just like I did, but harder.
He stomps two feet, turns around in agitation, stomps another, turns again.
“Get dressed. Please.” It’s not a kind please.
It’s a hard word with something borderline desperate in the undertone.
I grind my teeth together, scraping up what dignity I can muster, throw on my clothes, and snatch my bag from the bathroom. I stuff it all into my duffel and sling it over my shoulder.
The happiness I felt coming here, all the butterflies, the wild anticipation, fuck—even the strange sort of hope, it all surges violently up into my throat and burns at the backs of my eyes as it dies a hard death.
I bite back a sob. There’s no freaking way that I’m going to humiliate myself and cry over being rejected like this.
It doesn’t make sense. My heart slams against my ribs so loudly that I can practically hear it in the silent room.
And there’s Zeppelin, standing by the door like a statue. A pillar of marble. Carved. Beautiful. Solitary. Lonely.
I should just walk out.
I didn’t even want him involved in my life in any way in the first place. He’s the one who forced his way in and… made me want him. Not just his body, but his dry sense of humor. His closeness. The unforced honesty that flows so naturally between us.
The air becomes even more charged when I walk over. Like a pressurized canister of gas, this place could explode at any moment.
My feet take me straight to the towering statue by the door. He’s like something Dom made. Lifelike. Hard. Cold. So, so shut off and isolated. So far gone suddenly that he might as well be stone.
Where did the warm, open, almost vulnerable man who I was getting used to go?
The man who cradled me in his arms when I was sick?
The one who held my hair back, cleaned me up, and cradled me against him like I was the most precious thing in the world?
Where did the playful man go who was just fine with giving orders and listening to raunchy, dirty talk?
Where’s the man who met me joke for joke, wit for wit, a sparring partner in a battle of wills that we were both very much into.
This is the man who just fucking shaved me and now he’s walled off and basically unreachable. His eyes move to my face, devoid of emotion, blank, as though we’re strangers.
“Zeppelin.” I cross my arms, unwilling to get the heck out of this room unless he picks me up and physically sets me outside the door.
With the way this is going, I wouldn’t even put it past him.
“I didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t want you in any way.
That you’re inferior or wrong, or- or- give me something here.
I’m floundering. One second we’re okay, and the next second…
” I wave my hand down the length of him.
“This. This is what I’m getting. I don’t understand.
Do you need a minute? Some time? Will you talk to me? ”
I’ve never been stonewalled in my life.
I can see why people hate it so much.
I’m at a complete loss as to how to deal with this.
What do I say past sincerely apologizing.
How can I try and understand? How can I offer empathy if I don’t know what I’m supposed to empathize with?
A note of panic claws up my throat like discordant music, jarring my insides and echoing in my brain until it’s foggy and sore.
There might as well be a piece of smashed glass in my lungs.
My breathing is harsh and raspy, coming out all over the place. It’s the only sound in the room.
“I’d like to say that you probably just need time and space, but I know that doesn’t always change everything.
It’s not going to make the wrong things right.
If I’m one of those wrong things, I sincerely apologize.
It was never my intention to come here and insult you or hurt you.
I was into this and really wanted to do it.
I’m going to go because you clearly need to be by yourself.
You’re not going to communicate with me, but I hope that you can talk to one of the guys here if you need it, to get whatever this is sorted out.
The urge to touch him somewhere, even just a brush of my fingertips against his arm or hand, is nearly overwhelming, but I walk past him and make it out the door, shutting it behind me quietly, without giving into the compulsion.
I’ve never done a walk of shame in my life. Shame is in the head. It’s in the stomach. It’s regret and acid chewing up your throat, your chest so tight that your breath is locked in collapsed lungs.
The hallway to the clubhouse’s backdoor where my truck is parked might as well be a thousand miles long.
Each step, the acid gets stronger, until I’m sure that I’m going to throw up.
Not from morning sickness, but from a different kind of sickness that I can’t even begin to explain.
I know that nothing is okay, not since Jack died, but nothing is really not okay. It’s as not okay as not okay gets.
I need to be alone to sort this out, but after getting in my truck and being let through the compound’s gate by the same prospects who let me in, and driving around aimlessly for twenty minutes, alone isn’t a place I want to be.
Not in this truck, not in my head, and not in my heart.
I’m one of the most closed off open people there is. I can share anything and everything except the deepest parts of myself. All the truth except for the whispers I save for myself. If you give the shallow, that’s often enough, but tonight, I need a deep dive, and I need it with my big sister.