Page 86 of Worth Risking It

Chapter 35

Chastity Pampinella

Slouching in the chair next to the stage, an arm over my stomach, my elbow propped on top, I was tugging at my bottom lip, not seeing anything at the bar. All I saw was Wyatt’s face smeared with my blood, the savage glint in his eyes as he threw me against the wall, lifted me from the floor and fucked me to a whole new experience that awakened my own untamed urges.

Who did that? When I first slept with Milo, he had, but that was different. That was blood from torn flesh. What Wyatt did…

A shudder undulated down my spine, pushing a longing sigh from my chest, making my nipples hard, and my thighs quiver. My god, that was a sensation I would never be able to forget. It was surreal. Never had I felt more connected with someone after that afternoon.

When I woke up on that floor, it was because he was pinning my hands above my head and growling, shoving inside me to brutally claim me again…then again…for hours, we were insatiable. It was insane, unnatural, and left us both battered, bruised, chafed, and too raw to move most of the next day.

Thank god Milo had been expected to be in New York for a week and a half that time, because even though that happened the day he left, some marks were still there when he returned ten days later. I had had to lie and tell him I’d fallen down the steps one night when I was still partially asleep.

Days like that needed to be better controlled. My husband fell for that line once, but I seriously doubted he would be so accepting if it happened again. We could not get careless! We could not end up like Amanda and Meyers.

Thinking of her, I blinked and lowered my hand to pull my cell out my purse. Activating the screen, I tapped my thumb around to send her a text.

Just checking on you. How are you doing?

I tossed the phone down and stared at it. She had three months left before the baby was due. I could only imagine she was getting more apprehensive as the days went by, knowing that meant she was getting closer and closer to her death.

Wyatt yanked a chair next to me, spun it around, and plopped down, folding his arms over the back. His chin on a wrist, he watched my friends performing on stage and curled one side of his mouth. Speaking loud enough for me to hear, he said, “You know, they aren’t that bad to hang with, but they really suck as musicians.”

I snorted and slapped at his bicep. “It’s because you don’t like what they play.”

“I ain’t gonna argue that,” he laughed.

He rolled his chin to gaze at me and for a moment, we lost ourselves in the stare. I thought, for sure, after what happened that day a few weeks ago, I would never be able to make eye contact with him again, but it was easier now.

That afternoon had been magical. It shed us both of any doubts or silly insecurities. We were now one being, in a way. It was weird, the click that happened afterwards, merging us and bonding us on a level that far surpassed anything I even imagined could happen between two people.

Now, when I looked in his eyes, I saw a piece of me looking back from those beautiful blue irises. He consumed me that day, my body, my soul, and made me a part of his very existence.

Lowering my focus, I smiled, not wanting anyone to see us eyeing one another too intimately. My phone lit up and Melinda’s name flickered on the screen. Leaving it where it was so he could see, too, I tapped the screen.

Everything’s going well, Mrs. Pampinella. Thank you for asking. I’m doing good, just working and getting ready for the baby. He’s rolling around in there, ready to get out and kick ass.

I giggled and typed, I bet he’s a handful, being a Shaw. I admire you for willingly taking on the responsibility of incubating such a tenacious baby.

“Tenacious. Rude,” he teased.

The screen went black after I sent it. I picked up my drink and took a sip, watching my friends.

“So, whose idea was it for her to talk to you like that?”

“Mine. That way if Milo snuck in my phone, he wouldn’t get suspicious. Has Bobby said anything about Jack trying to find her?”

“Nope,” he huffed, turning his profile to me. “He just doesn’t care. He’s too busy grooming his daughter to…”

My brows furrowed as I cast a sideways glance. “What? Finish that sentence.”

His lips pursed and he shook his head, picking up his beer to take a sip. “Naw, not important.”

I shifted my weight to face him better. “Finish the sentence.”

Groaning, he rolled his eyes and set the bottle on the table. “Long story short, Jackie boy plays both sides of the field.”

“Yeah?”