“Now you know why I am how I am. What’s behind my motivation and my need to succeed.”
“Yeah. Thanks for trustin’ me enough to share it.”
“Talking about it isn’t quite like living it. Believe me, it was way worse at the time.”
“I believe it. When I said life’s unfair, you’re proof that’s true. A child shouldn’t raise a child. A kid shouldn’t ever be liftin’ that heavy burden. So, I realize what you said ain’t nothin’ like what you lived. I get it. But, babe, here? You’re surrounded by people who are survivors of their fucked-up family life. If anyone would understand, they would. Remember that when you look at them. Or if you get the urge to judge them. Look past their fuckin’ cuts and sleds, their tattoos, drinkin’ and cursin’. Instead, see how far they’ve come. Just like you. Your measure of success just might be a little different, that’s all.”
“How about your childhood?”
“Mine was fuckin’ awesome. We might not have been rich, but I had great fuckin’ parents. Maybe you’ll get to meet my mom. She’d love you unless you got that stick jammed up your ass when you meet her.”
His lips curled up slightly when hers did.
She ran her fingertips from the hollow of his neck to one of his nipples where she gently flicked his barbell with her fingernail. “What about your dad?”
“Cancer took him when I was a teen.”
Her fingers stilled for a moment. “Sorry. That had to be difficult.”
“It was. But thank fuck I had him for as long as I did. I was ten when Jemma and Judge came to live with us. Can’t imagine raisin’ a baby at that age. Hell, I was pissed I had to share my room and my fuckin’ toys.”
Her soft laugh had him grinning. It was a good sign that they were done talking about serious shit and could get down to serious naked business instead.
“Now you get the D you so desperately want.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re just...” She sighed.
“Yeah, I know. I’m so fuckin’ amazin’ I make you speechless.”
“That’s not why.”
“Anyway, got a coupla hours before you gotta sneak out. Trip don’t want women stayin’ overnight in the bunkhouse. Don’t want it to turn into a whorehouse.”
“Great. So, I’m a whore for sneaking down here?”
“Babe, whores don’t have sticks up their asses. Just dicks.”
“Are you saying if I like anal, I’m a whore?”
He rolled over her, caging her in again. His voice was gravelly when he asked, “You into anal?”
“It was a rhetorical question.”
He narrowed his eyes, tilted his head and studied her face. “Sure it was. But we’ll explore that deeper at another time. Got other plans for now.”
“What kind of plans?” she whispered as he lowered his lips to hers.
“Shit that’ll make you forget any man’s name but mine.”
“Wow,” she mouthed.
“You think I’m kiddin’.”
“Honestly? I hope you’re not.”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Fuck yeah,” she repeated as he took her mouth.
Chapter Seventeen
Reese quietly turned the key in the lock and opened the door.
She hadn’t left Deacon’s room as early as she should have. One reason was, every time she tried to leave, he pulled her back into bed.
She also knew she left too late because bikers in the form of zombies were wandering around the bunkhouse in various states of undress. Sig hadn’t been lying when he said no one on that farm was shy. Not one of them cared that Reese had gotten an eyeful. Or more like many eyefuls. She tried not to ogle them too badly as she found Reilly’s flip-flops she’d kicked off, then escaped using the back door.
She stepped into the apartment, turned after closing the door and... froze.
Her sister was awake already? Showered and dressed? Her hair was neatly pulled back into a cute ponytail and a Pop Tart was clenched between her teeth as she poured a glass of OJ.
“Morning.” Reese cleared her throat since her greeting came out rough and scratchy from lack of sleep. Aaand maybe from calling out Deacon’s name one too many times. In a very high pitch.
Reilly took a bite, then asked around a mouthful of the frosted toaster pastry, “Where’ve you been?”
Her baby sister seemed amused.
Justice loped up to her and Reese gave the bulldog his required ear ruffle and pat on the butt. “Walking. I couldn’t sleep.”
Reilly’s gaze dropped to Reese’s feet tucked into her flip-flops and her lips twisted. “Right. Walking. I think you mispronounced fucking.”
She ignored that by asking, “Why are you up so early?”
“It’s not so early, sis. I’m surprised you don’t know that since you have every minute of your life scheduled.”
“What time is it?” She wondered if Justice had been outside yet.
“Almost seven.”
“That’s early for you.”
“I have a job, remember?”
One she was taking seriously? That was surprising. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah. It’s great. Dutch is a bit gruff, as well as rough around the edges, but, hey, one of the benefits of the job is a great view.”