better not,” he growled, pinching my hand against his chest with his one last time. “Cause after that sweet taste of your lips, I'm gonna need a whole lot more when I wake up. I want you, Alice, need you under me so fucking bad...”
Holy shit. Even when he closed his eyes and started snoring next to me, I couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said.
It left me frustrated, hot, achingly wet. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep for several hours. When I couldn't, I watched through the blinds, waiting until the sun was just about all the way overhead.
I kept my promise to stay with him until he was well. Hadn't slept a wink myself by early afternoon, just listening to the sound of his sleep, less troubled than before as the hours went by. Downright peaceful, actually. He sounded like a big bear hibernating.
Seeing him, feeling him, smelling him made it so hard to break away. But I knew if I stayed a second longer, it would only be worse when I finally did.
I had to get out of here. I had to leave this clubhouse, and then find a ride far, far away from Missoula. I needed to get away from Sting before I never wanted to escape ever again.
Grounding myself here meant I'd be permanently grounded when Stinger woke up. He really did want me, and I wanted him. Thinking about what would happen if we gave in chilled me to the core.
How could I give myself to this man – to any man – if I didn't even know who I was? Sure, I could offer him sex, indulging in the carnal delights I'd always wanted.
But it wouldn't be honest. My whole life was still half-suffocated underneath a shroud. I couldn't offer this man anything when I didn't know what I had to give.
Waking up in a dark closet with a corpse next to me and clawing my way to sanity left me an emotional wreck. I'd treated these people who gave me shelter and safety like shit. Shit, I'd treated myself the same way too.
I had to go, and I had to move now, when Stinger was safe and blissfully asleep. With him out, there'd be no painful goodbye, no fighting him when he wrapped me in his wild grip and told me to stay.
Tears prickled my eyes, the same thorns tangled around my heart. Slowly, I slid off the bed and stood next to him. I leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead.
All the determination I had welling up inside me to figure my crap out didn't mean anything to my tears.
They overflowed, spilling down my cheek. I sniffed and wiped them away, careful not to make too much noise. I threw a few shirts and toiletries in an old backpack he'd given me and quietly shut the door, taking the long hallway to the bar area in hurried steps.
I'm the one who's sorry, Sting. So fucking sorry. I just can't do this.
It's better this way, better for us both...
I'm not the right girl for you. I'm not even sure what kinda girl I am. All I can focus on is finding out.
The clubhouse was a lot quieter now. Some of the guys were in their rooms and the rest were home, recuperating from the party gone bad. Blaze was sitting up, hunched over at the bar with a huge carafe of water. He looked like hell, and jerked a little when I gently tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey.”
Anger shot through his eyes. Probably pissed that I'd rattled him a little without meaning to. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, clearing my throat. “I heard about what happened to the Rams. They're dead and gone, aren't they?”
“That's club business. Not yours,” he snapped. Then after a long second, he grunted and rolled his eyes.
Blaze gave me a slow nod, leaning closer to me. “Keep that shit to yourself. Not everybody knows. I haven't even had time to debrief the club after everybody's been puking their guts out all night. Thank fuck Tank and the boys got their asses good. ”
The way he growled it left no doubt the Rams suffered. Filled me with a sick sorta satisfaction, and that only stiffened my resolve to get on with my life now that this awful chapter was done.
Shit, I
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