Blood & Bones: Deacon (Blood Fury MC 4)

“That wasn’t an answer to my question.”

“Why are you sitting out here in your underwear?”

He brushed his palm over his erection. “Just tryin’ to save time. But that still wasn’t an answer to my question. You tryin’ to avoid it?”

“I heard from the body shop today. My car won’t be done for another three or four weeks. I can get a rental.”

Once again, not an answer to his question. The woman was normally direct, so it made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand. “You got my truck.”

“You won’t be here for that long.”

“I’ll drop you off at a rental place when I leave.” Once he caught that Warren bastard.

She nodded and went to the deck railing, perching her glass on the flat top. She stared out into the dark.

He was beginning to unfold himself from the lounge chair, to go to her, when she spun and faced him.

“Deke...”

Oh Christ, here it comes.

He plopped back down as if she’d shoved him. The way she said his name made him think he wasn’t getting ridden tonight.

“Listen,” she started.

He mentally groaned.

“I need to make a couple things clear first...”

First? That gave him some hope.

“I don’t have time for anything more than sex right now. And sometimes not even that. Sex can get complicated and my life is complicated enough without some man trying to be my... hero.”

Hero? Who the fuck was she talking about?

“I don’t need a hero,” she continued. “I can take care of problems myself.”

“What problems? Warren?” No, she couldn’t. Where was this coming from?

But if he wanted to get laid tonight, he couldn’t argue that point with her. He’d end up the loser. She’d end up in her room with her vibrator and he with his fist.

“What you did was sweet...”

It wasn’t meant to be sweet, just a time saver. But okay...

“And I appreciate it. But...”

That fucking but. Time to butt in. “But nothin’, was just tryin’ to save time and let you know I was out here willin’ and able. That’s it.” That wasn’t it, but it would have to be it.

Goddamn it.

“Listen,” he started, because he couldn’t just leave it alone. Fuck no, he had to risk the chance of getting her naked, like a dumb fuck. “When’s the last time you let a man in?”

Even in the dark, he could see her brow drop low. “What do you mean? Like in my vagina?”

Fuck yeah, he wanted to know that, too, but... “I mean let a man in. Where you dropped your goddamn walls and just enjoy spendin’ time with a fuckin’ man. Naked or not.”

Her mouth opened for a few seconds, then she lifted her glass and took a long sip of wine.

Well, there was his answer.

He got to his feet, grabbed the wine glass she was guzzling from and set it on the nearby deck rail. “When’s the last time you let anyone in?”

“How about you? Do you normally talk about your feelings with your ‘brothers?’”

“Ain’t talkin’ about me. Talkin’ about you.”

“So, it’s okay for a man to keep shit buried, but not a woman.”

“Women normally let their shit be known and do it loudly.”

“Not all,” she whispered.

“What’s more perfect than to free yourself of any clingin’ shit than to share it with someone who won’t fuckin’ judge you and you’ll never see again?”

“What? You’re volunteering?”

“Well, yeah.” Of course, he wanted to know more about her than what he could find out online. In truth, he wanted to know everything about her.

But then, that didn’t fall under the category of “just sex.” Which was where she wanted to stay and where he normally did, too.

“Who are you? Oprah?”

“Do I look like fuckin’ Oprah?”

At least that made her lips curl slightly at the corners before she flattened them out.

“When’s the last time you let a man in?” he asked again.

It took her a few heartbeats, but she finally admitted, “My ex-husband long before he was an ex.”

“You haven’t had sex since your ex?”

Her chin jerked back. “I didn’t say that. Sex isn’t the same as sharing... stuff with someone. Sharing is more intimate than sex.”

He recycled her words in his head as he stared at the woman in front of him. Was she secretly a man? No, he’d done a complete inspection, she was definitely not hiding anything. She was a woman and what woman didn’t overshare? He wasn’t sure he’d met one yet.

Until Reese.

“Some men don’t want a strong, independent woman. They feel threatened.”

“And some men do,” he countered. “For some, it’s a fuckin’ turn on.”

“Yes, well. Maybe a turn on for one night, but they don’t want to deal with someone like that long term.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” He couldn’t imagine being with someone long term who was a doormat, who didn’t have a fire inside and a spine of steel. Who gave as good as she got. Who wouldn’t fall to pieces at a little heated argument.