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“She has a story.”
“Yeah. She’s got a story. One that ain’t gonna be told tonight. Go find Deke. Heard he wasn’t happy when you bolted earlier like your ass was on fire.” With that he turned and went into his apartment, closing the door softly behind him.
She stared at it for a second, hoping she didn’t insult one of Deacon’s “brothers” when she hadn’t meant to. In truth, they’d been nothing but accommodating since Reilly arrived last week.
She should be grateful.
She was grateful, but she still couldn’t help but worry. She’d worried about Reilly for the past twenty-four years, even when it shouldn’t have been her job to do so. When Reese should’ve been a child herself, she had to step up and be the adult. She thought back and wondered how she, at only ten, figured it all out.
Had she made mistakes raising Reilly? Too many to count. But she learned from them. And she wanted to protect her sister any way she could.
But even Reilly looked and acted more worldly than Autumn.
Reese had to remind herself that Sig’s “Red” wasn’t her problem. The rough-around-the-edges biker seemed to dote on her and she him.
She headed down the steps, made a left and found the back door to the bunkhouse unlocked, just like Sig said. With only one light midway down the corridor, the interior was bathed in shadows and she made her way inside, pausing long enough to let her vision adjust.
While it was dark, it wasn’t quiet. The sounds of someone—or someones since they didn’t sound alone—having sex echoed down the long hallway.
The shouted chant of “Yes! Yes! Yes!” was pretty high-pitched. Loud, deep grunts accompanied each one.
She peeked in at the first open door and saw it was a bathroom, which consisted of a couple stalls, showers and sinks. It reminded her of a shared bathroom in a college dorm.
Even though she couldn’t afford to live on Villanova’s campus, nor could she leave her sister alone at home, she had used a few while studying with classmates. The ones she’d had the pleasure of using made her appreciate not having to use it on a daily basis.
She was pretty sure if she turned on the light, she’d find this one much worse since a group of bachelor bikers used it. She wrinkled her nose and then gasped after doing so, forgetting how messed up her face was. She needed to perfect her “resting bitch face” so she wouldn’t cause herself pain until she was healed up.
She wandered down the corridor, cursing silently when none of the rooms or doors were marked with whom they belonged to. And she wasn’t about to start opening them to peek inside. Not unless she wanted to bleach her brain afterward.
The sounds of the enthusiastic coupling got louder as she made her way toward the front of the bunkhouse. She wasn’t sure if it was Deacon doing all the grunting. Her stomach twisted.
She had no idea how to find him without yelling out his name.
A door to the right, near the end of the hallway, opened and a naked man stepped out with his head tipped down and he was running his fingers through his long, hair as he walked her way. Reese froze and made a small warning sound so she wouldn’t spook him.
His head popped up and he only hesitated for a split second before continuing to saunter towards her, not bothering to cover any of his nakedness.
Reese was thankful because she kind of appreciated the view. The man’s hair was now loose, unlike earlier when he had it pulled into a man-bun for their ride. Undoubtedly to keep his long hair from knotting in the wind. She noted he looked good either way.
Christ. Not counting the prospects, she hadn’t met an ugly Fury member yet. No wonder those sweet butts liked to... hang out.
He gave her a crooked grin when he recognized her. “Lookin’ for Deke?”
Did he just ask if she was looking for dick? No, that couldn’t be right. Her tired brain just changed Deke to dick since it was hard to ignore what was hanging casually between his thighs.
She tried to remember his name while not staring at it. When he reached down, she figured he was going to finally cover himself. She was wrong.
He scratched his balls instead.
When her eyes rose again, he said with a low, rumbling chuckle, “Easy, remember?”
“I’m not easy,” she whispered.
“Not you. Me.”
Oh shit, that was right. His name was Easy. Seemed like his attitude was the same way. Easy.
He slowly and deliberately dragged a hand up his tattooed chest.
Gah. He needed to stop drawing her attention to everywhere but his face. He was baiting her on purpose.
His repeated, “You lookin’ for Deke?” got her attention back on track. Barely.
“I... Yes, I... uh...” Since when was she at a loss for words? She shook herself mentally. “I have something I need to discuss with him.”
