Blood & Bones - Rev (Blood Fury MC 8)

In her stupor, did she grab it sometime during the night? Had she needed something out of it?

She unzipped it and dug through her stuff to find everything still where she packed it, along with the toiletries she had placed in the bathroom next door.

Someone had stuck all of her products, including her makeup, back in her bag.

Was that someone her?

No. Couldn’t have been. If she was so drunk she couldn’t remember doing it, how could she actually do it?

She stood, pursed her lips and stared at her bag for a few minutes while scratching the back of her neck.

So damn strange.

Unless…

She hurried back outside, leaving that metal hinge-y thingy in place again so she didn’t get locked out and tried her keycard in Rev’s lock this time. The light turned a solid green.

Son of a fucking bitch.

Had he taken her keycard by mistake and left his?

She stood on the threshold, only wearing her PJs covered by Rev’s T-shirt and stared inside the room, trying to determine what all of that meant or if it meant anything at all. Maybe it was just a simple mistake.

Speaking of his T-shirt… She fisted the cotton and shoved it against her nose.

Shit. Whiskey and pot. That could be the scent for any of the guys. Whiskey, beer, pussy, pot, leather and tobacco combo made up the typical Fury fragrance.

Her fingers loosened on the cotton and she let the shirt drop back into place as Rev’s Bronco pulled around the side of the motel and into the spot in front of his room.

Had he caught her sniffing his shirt? Damn it.

The engine cut off, she heard the unmistakable sound of the parking brake being engaged, then the driver’s door was flung open.

He climbed out of the truck and went around to the passenger side, opening the door, leaning in—unfortunately, from where she stood, not giving her a good look at his ass—and then shutting the door with his knee since his hands were now full of bags.

His face actually looked haggard, much older than his twenty-eight years. Likely due from a lack of real sleep, drinking too much, and, if he spent time in that house this morning with those people, he was probably emotionally worn down again.

He paused in front of her and whatever was in the bags smelled like heaven. Food! Hot food! Not vending machine shit.

“You look like a goddamn deer in headlights standin’ out here. And you don’t got any fuckin’ pants on.” He pushed past her and into the room.

She blinked, hurried after him and shut the door behind her. “You took my keycard. I’m locked out of my room.”

“Yeah,” was his only response, his back to her as he set the bags down on the tiny table in the corner.

She planted her hands on her hips and when he turned to face her, his expression was unreadable. “What do you mean, ‘yeah?’ I need to get in my room to shower and change.”

“You can do it in here.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why would I do it in here when I have a perfectly good room next door?”

His mouth twisted and suddenly she knew exactly what he was going to say before he said it. “Decided no point in payin’ for two rooms. Gonna share one.”

Her eyebrows launched to the top of her forehead. “We are?”

“Yeah. We are.” He tipped his head at the other queen bed in the room. The one that was still perfectly made. “Got two beds in here. Last night proved we can sleep in the same room without fuckin’ up.”

It did?

They had both passed out!

But, wait… She shouldn’t argue this turn of events. Not at all. This might actually help her plan.

She rolled her lips under.

He frowned when he read her face. “You in that bed. Me in the other.”

“Okay.”

His bloodshot eyes narrowed.

She smiled.

He jerked his head toward the bathroom at the back of the room. “Go shower.”

She had no idea what he bought for breakfast or lunch, or whatever, but it smelled way too good to wait. “I’ll shower after I eat.”

He wrinkled up his nose. “Gonna shower before we eat.”

She lifted her arm and sniffed her own pit. “I don’t stink.”

“Thought a fox always smells his own fuckin’ hole first. Guess that’s wrong. Shower. Then eat.”

“But I’m dying of starvation!”

He cocked one eyebrow and looked her up and down.

She rolled her eyes. “Are you saying I’m fat?”

“Didn’t say shit.”

He didn’t have to. “I know I need to lose weight. I’ve done nothing but put on the pounds since working at the shop. We eat like shit. Donuts, snacks—”

“Shut the fuck up, woman. You don’t gotta lose even one goddamn pound. Any weight you put on was needed and it all went to the right places.”

“Yeah, my fat ass.” She slapped one hand on each of her ass cheeks, then shook the junk in her trunk.