AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He wanna be found?”
“Don’t know,” Trip answered Judge.
“You might want good things for the Fury, not so sure Sig will. And not so sure that ‘brotherly love’ Deke was rippin’ on will exist between you two.”
It sounded like it hadn’t been twenty years since Judge saw Sig, which surprised Trip. “You know where the fuck he’s at?”
“Nope.”
“You willin’ to find him for me?”
Judge turned to Deacon. “Man must got a fuckin’ monster set hangin’ between his legs.”
“Takin’ that as a compliment,” Trip told him.
“Don’t. Havin’ a set like that only makes ‘em a bigger target. And it hurts a fuck of a lot more when you get kicked in ‘em.”
“True. But I’m tryin’ to not only rebuild but repair the past. Willin’ to take the hits if I need to.”
“No reason to. Could let it all lie where it was.”
“I could. But it’s all I got and I’m gonna take what I got and make it into something.” He paused, then added, “With or without you, Judge. Though, I hope you join us.”
“Don’t sound invitin’. No pussy, no booze, and a bunch of assholes.”
Trip grinned at Judge. “Means you’ll fit right in.”
Deacon snorted, whacked Trip on the back and said, “Leave lookin’ for Sig to me. I’ll see what I can do.”
“If Deke can’t find ‘im, no one can,” Judge said. “Hope you don’t fuckin’ regret it when he does.”
Trip hoped he didn’t, either.
Chapter Five
Stella sat at a table in the back by the old jukebox. She had slipped enough quarters in it to play a few of her favorite songs while she paid bills.
Or attempted to pay bills.
She looked at the mountain of torn open envelopes sitting in front of her. She had divided them up into past due, due now, due soon and you’re-fucked-if-you-don’t-pay-these piles. The last one included a couple of her utility bills and liquor invoices.
Without electricity and booze, she might as well board up Crazy Pete’s. But the collection of unpaid bills in front of her was a lot larger than the balance in her checkbook.
She scrubbed her hands down her face and sighed loudly so she wouldn’t scream instead.
She couldn’t afford to pay her expenses without customers. It was only a little after midnight, closing time wasn’t until two, and she hadn’t seen a customer since ten. Even then, it was only the guy who lived down the street and regularly walked in to buy a six-pack.
Thank fuck for him.
As Joan Jett’s rendition of Crimson and Clover wailed from the speakers, Stella also wanted to wail.
She wanted to kick, scream, cry and stomp her foot. But she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Instead, she dropped her head into her folded arms and breathed deeply in and out of her nose.
A few minutes later she was back at Trip’s barn, seeing him shirtless and working hard. Determined to do everything he could to bring the Fury back better than ever.
Her memory began to shift... Instead of releasing her wrist when they were standing toe to toe, he refused to let her go. And when he dropped his head, he did it until his lips were right above hers.
She didn’t want him to kiss her then, but she wanted him to kiss her now. She wanted to feel his lips against hers.
And then he did. Firm lips taking control, his tongue sweeping through her mouth, tangling with hers.
She didn’t fight back. She didn’t shove him away. She allowed herself that moment in time to simply let go. To forget her worries, forget everything else except for him.
Nothing else existed but them. In that moment.
No past. No future. Just the now.
Deepening the kiss, he lifted her hand and put it on his chest over his heart, so she could feel the strong thump, thump, thump. Her palm absorbed the warmth of his skin and her fingertips pressed into his rock-hard muscles.
He pinned her hand there, his so much larger than hers. So much stronger than hers.
His kiss became desperate, like he couldn’t get enough of her. He released her hand and dug his fingers into her hair, holding her where he wanted her. Forcing her face up, her lips to open wider.
Her own heart beat as quickly as his. A longing shot through her, making her clench in places that hadn’t been touched in ages, because she’d been too exhausted and too distracted to even take care of her own needs.
Her mind had been occupied solely with surviving.
Her breasts ached for his touch, and so did everything else.
She had wanted to marry that boy. But what she wanted from him now had nothing to do with love, commitment, or even “forever.”
Nothing at all.
She groaned into his mouth, encouraging him, begging him to touch her.
She needed his touch to remind her she was very much alive. How she wasn’t dead inside and to stop going through life like a zombie.
