“That ‘mess’ is proof that what we just did was real. I’m not going to wash it, or clean it, and I’m going to wear it proudly knowing the first time I felt your tight pussy around me was on top of it. I fucking love the mess we just made, and I’d do anything for a repeat. Preferably in the light of day.”
If he wasn’t holding onto my chin, my mouth would drop open at his words. Why is that so hot to me?
“I never would have guessed you’d have such a mouth on you, Rhys . . .” I stumble, realization hitting me. “God, I don’t even know your last name.”
“Hudson. Rhys Michael Hudson. I’m thirty-two years old, never had an STD, was tested the day after I met you, I haven’t been with anyone since I laid eyes on your beautiful face and knew you were it for me, I’ll always wrap it up until you decide you want me bare—full well knowing the intent would be toput my baby inside you—and I’d never, ever, do anything to purposefully make you uncomfortable.”
My chest cracks wide open, my knees shaking, my lip trembling, and not from the chill outside. There’s so much to dissect there that I don’t even know where to begin. Is that what being with a real man is like? Rhys makes everyone who came before him look like selfish, fumbling assholes. Or maybe this is just how a man truly in love behaves.In love.Is that what this is? Even as I think the question, I know the answer. I’m in love with him.
“I’ll get tested. I have only been with Blake, and he’s always worn protection. But I . . .” My voice clogs up, not wanting to continue. This man hasn’t been with anyone since he met me because he was so confident in what he felt, but I slept with Blake, even when my heart wasn’t in it with him, even though he degraded me and made me feel used and pathetic. How stupid of me to think our problems could be fixed with sex. Shame washes over me, and of course, Rhys reads my thoughts and feelings without me speaking them into existence.
“Hey, you’re engaged. You think I didn’t expect that you’d be sleeping with your fiancé? There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Bristol.”
God, he still thinks I’m engaged. Which, I guess, according to Blake, I still am. But as far as I’m concerned, I’m not.
“You aren’t mad?”
“That another man was touching you? Baby, I’m livid. The idea alone makes me want to burn cities to the ground. But I’m confident that no one has ever touched you the way I have, that you’ve never felt what you do for me with anyone else. I don’t need to hear the words to know the truth. I can feel thosethings and not be upset with you. I can know these things and still understand it. I’d never judge you, Bristol.”
“I don’t deserve you. No one does.”
“You’ve got it all wrong; it’s that no one is deserving ofyou.” My heart does that thing in my chest again, tumbling over before picking up speed. Everything in my body is screaming to not walk away from him, to stay put, to unload all my problems and new fears at his feet and ask for help. But I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve found myself in a terrifying situation, and I’m letting fear hold the reins. I can’t be the reason everything I love dies. I’m so scared of Blake following through with his threats. I can’t put that on Rhys.
The only reason I’ve been able to come here at night is that Blake has been working out of the house for days, stumbling into bed at four in the morning, reeking of scotch. He’s been too drunk to try anything physical with me, but the moment he gets home, fear floods my system, and I lie next to him in a paralyzed state of shock.
I’ve spent countless hours replaying the night I told him I was leaving. I should have seen Blake for what he truly is. A monster. I’m terrified to leave, not knowing what Blake is truly capable of. I couldn’t live with myself if this wonderful man or any of the people he loves got hurt because of me. If the shelter closed, or worse . . . burned down. I’m not worth the trouble. Even if Rhys would probably argue that until his dying breath.
“I need you to talk to me, love.”
God, he looks so solemn, so concerned. We stand there, shrouded in darkness, miles of meadow and woods between us and society, and all I really want to do is step into his big, warm arms and beg him to take me away from it all.Everything I want? It’s standing in front of me; I just can’t take it. But I also can’t leave here and let him think that I’m in love with Blake. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I open up.As much as I can.
“I don’t love him. I don’t think I ever did.” Rhys releases a long pent-up breath in relief, and my heart aches for him. All this time, he’s been trying to be a good man, to let me make my own decisions, but how could we ever fight this chemistry and connection between us? I could think I was in love with Blake at one point, all I wanted, but it’s not in the same universe as what I feel for Rhys.
I reach my hand out, stroking softly down the side of his face, running my fingers through his beard. Heat blooms low in my belly as I think about how good it felt between my legs. I’ve never been devoured like that before. Blake had never gone down on me during the time we were together, and only two men before him ever tried. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could compare to what Rhys just did.
Reality starts to set in, and I know I have to go home, to leave this bubble Rhys has created for us. All of Blake’s threats start to flood my system as nerves start to fester. The last few days have been rough. I’ve dehydrated myself with the number of tears I’ve shed. I could call the police; I could get help. But every time I get the courage to do it, Blake’s voice slithers into my mind, reminding me that he could kill Rhys, that he could kill me, burn down the shelter. Who the hell is he working for?
Thoughts start playing on the endless loop they’ve been on for days, trying to work out how to get out of this situation. How to walk away from something so threatening and controlling.
“Give me your phone, I want to put my number and address in it.”
“I didn’t bring it. He—I wanted to completely unplug. I needed to think without any distractions.” And Blake is tracking me. Stalking me.
“That’s okay, it’s okay. You’re good with directions. I need you to remember this address, then, baby. Promise me.” Rhys types out the address in Amberwood on his phone.
“I read over the address several times, committing it to memory. Okay. I’ll remember it.”
“You come to me for anything, got it? No one at the clubhouse would ever turn you away. There’s a gate at the front with armed sentries. Just tell them you’re there for me, and they’ll get me the message. I don’t care what time. You need me, you come, Bristol.”
Fear throttles me again, a disease thick and strong flowing through my veins. Armed sentries? A gate?
“They don’t even know who I am. Why would they let me in? Armed sentries sound like you live in a prison. It sounds dangerous.”
Rhys’s lips twitch, slowly turning up at the corners as he looks at me sheepishly.
“They wouldn’t turn any woman away looking for help. We may not seem like it, but as far as MCs go, we’re the good ones. The gates and armed sentries are to keep us safe. There are more than just club members who live at the clubhouse, and it’s our job to make sure nothing bad comes to them while they’re there.”
“They’re not dangerous?”
