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Jack
Jesus, that was the best lay of my life.
And it wasn’t just sex. If I’m going to be honest… there was a whole lot more there.
Fiona was the most incredible woman I’d run across in a long time. Maybe forever.
She was strong. She radiated that. You could feel it coming off her in waves.
And she was sexy as fuck. Feminine. All woman – but with a spine of steel.
She handled herself well back in the bar. No breaking down, no panicking. Calm, cool, collected. Grace under pressure.
She wasn’t a shrinking violet. She’d wanted to be in on what had happened when I came back to the house and talked with Kade.
She also wasn’t a fucking bleeding heart. She was fine with whatever the Santa Muerte gunman got. Didn’t bother her in the slightest.
But she wasn’t bloodthirsty. She wasn’t frothing at the mouth for his death. If Sloane, my ex-wife, had been in the same situation as Fiona in the bar? She would’ve wanted to be holding the shotgun instead of Lou.
If you slapped Sloane in a fight, you better watch out for the shiv about to get buried in your heart.
Back in the day, I liked that. I liked having a badass biker chick who didn’t take shit off of anybody, and who was as hard and tough as any man in the crew.
What I didn’t understand back then was the difference between strength and viciousness.
Fiona had strength.
Sloane was a fucking psychopath if you crossed her.
When I had my change of heart, which culminated three years ago – when I’d seen what viciousness can do to my own soul and the soul of the club, and decided to choose strength instead – Sloane suddenly became a lot less appealing.
Deeper truth?
She became repulsive.
She had all of my worst qualities from before, but none of the heart.
She loved me, I knew that. She loved me fiercely.
But I had changed.
And she wasn’t willing to.
She was a Rottweiler, a lioness, a cobra. There was no taking the venom out of her, because there was an endless supply.
But she was out of my life now.
And now there was Fiona.
God… the sex had been incredible. The way she felt… the way she fucked me… the way she gave herself over to me… the way she exulted in me dominating her…
Sex with Sloane was like 12 rounds in a boxing ring. Exhilarating, but it was a fucking contest. There was a winner and a loser, somebody came out on top, and both of you were probably going to be battered and bruised by the end of it.
Fun once in awhile. Not every fucking time, though.
With Fiona…
It felt like I was a teenager again, discovering sex for the first time.
