I grin; my nerves now shot to hell. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”
He kisses me, like he’s sorry for wanting me but can’t help himself. His hand slips under my shirt, fingers digging into my skin, like he’s desperate for the closeness.
I pull him into me, needing to feel him, needing to rid him of the doubts. The booth is hidden but not soundproof. “Back room. Five minutes,” I breathe against his mouth.
He grins. “Can’t wait that long.”
We sneak away, hearts pounding. The storage room is cold, crowded with bags of flour and coffee, but we don’t notice. Dean has me pressed against the wall, his mouth on mine, as his hands work fast to get my jeans down.
He doesn’t waste any time dipping his rough fingers into my drenched pussy. “Yes…Please, Dean.” I grip his forearms, nails digging, as he gives my sweet spot a ‘come hither.’
“Fuck, Aubrey, you’re so wet,” he growls, his lips brushing my ear. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me,” I gasp, tugging at his belt.
He doesn’t hesitate, lifting me, so my legs wrap around his waist. Every thrust is a promise and a warning. I want to drown in him, lose myself, and forget all the questions, all the fear.
After, we’re spent and breathless, clothes half-on, half-off, clinging to each other in the dark. He buries his face in my neck. “I don’t want to fuck this up.” His voice is muffled.
“You already did,” I tease, tracing circles on his back. “But I’m still here.”
He lets out a shaky laugh. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere.”
He’s silent for a long time. Then, he gently kisses my forehead. “One day, I promise I’ll tell you everything. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s all I can give you right now.”
He’s right. It’s not enough. But it’s something.
When we walk back into the diner, no one’s oblivious to what we’ve been up to. Gina winks at me but leaves it alone. Dean heads out, but not before squeezing my hand.
My heart twists as I watch him leave. I want him so bad. I want the truth. I want it all, even if it rips me apart. I have to figure out who Dean Michaels is, no matter how many walls he throws up. Because that’s who I am.
I’m stubborn, and I can’t let it go. Not when I’m this far gone.
Chapter 6
Dean
The bruiseon my jaw throbs every time I move…a souvenir from a little unwelcomed reunion. I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, pushing at it with a knuckle, jaw flexing as the pain shoots up the side of my face. It’s ugly, deep purple and blue, and it makes me think of bar fights, fists, the bad old days I’ve been trying so fucking hard to outrun. Makes me think of the men who left it there, the ghosts of a past I can’t seem ever to shake.
I didn’t want a fight, but sometimes trouble comes looking for you, especially when you owe it blood.
It started two days ago. I was heading back to the inn from my night with Aubrey, cutting through the alley behind Main, when I saw the bikes, three of them, parked on the street by The Cozy Corner. All black and chrome, custom paint jobs, with the Rising Tension’s skull logo glaring. Immediately, my heart dropped. After all this time, they still managed to find me.
I tried to keep my head down and look like any other local. But Jax spotted me. He always was a mean fucker, quick to swing, quicker to sniff out a rat. He hit me with a punch before I could even get a word out. It was meant as a warning, a hellofrom the club, and a promise: “We know you’re here. Don’t forget who you belong to.”
I spat out blood and walked away. I didn’t run, but my pulse and the adrenaline rush from it all haven’t slowed since. Now, every time I step outside, I feel eyes on me. Shadows at the edge of every fucking street. I catch glimpses of the faces of men I used to call brothers. They’re hanging around the gas station, smoking outside the liquor store, lingering in dark corners at Maggie’s. Laughing and chatting it up like they own the place, like they own me.
I know why they’re here. They want me back. Or they want me dead.
Aubrey’s face flashes in my mind, the way she looked at me, worry in her eyes when she saw the bruise. I shrugged it off like it was nothing. She didn’t believe me, not for a damn second. But that’s the kind of girl she is, sees right through the bullshit and doesn’t blink. But it’s too fucking dangerous to want her, to bring her into my life.
I light up a cigarette, pacing the length of my room. Every window feels like a target. I’m wired, jumpy. I think about texting, but don’t. I can’t drag her into my mess.
The best thing I can do for Aubrey is let her go. Knowing I should pack my shit and be gone before sunrise…get out of Crystal Falls, out of her life. But with those bastards circling, I can’t leave. Not yet. Not until I know she’s safe. And that’s going to be the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
The next morning, I keep my head down, watching for anyone associated with Rising Tension. I spot two of them outside The Cozy Corner, laughing, tossing back coffee, watching everyone like they’re getting a feel for the town. I don’t dare go anywhere near the diner. The risk is too damn high. If they see me talking to Aubrey, if they even get a whiff that she means something to me, she’s an automatic target. They’d hurther just to get to me, or worse, use her to pull me back in. So, I cross to the other sidewalk, keep my hands shoved in my pockets, and stare at my boots, forcing myself to keep moving.
