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Riding Blind (Hell Ryders MC Book 3) by J.L. Sheppard (12)

Chapter Eleven

Her head pounded so hard she swore it’d split in two. Eyes swollen, she refused to try to part them. No wonder. Last night, she cried for hours. She’d only sobbed so much once. Still, she knew she had to try. She couldn’t stay in bed.

She slid her eyes open and remembered where she was—Bryce’s bed. On her side, her gaze landed on the door leading into the bathroom. Her back pressed against the heat of a body. That same warmth snaked around her waist. Carefully, she angled her head to look down and found an arm wrapped around her waist, his arm. One of his legs in between hers, his face at her neck as his breaths heated her skin.

It felt good. She woke up every day for more than five years wishing she had this. It was bittersweet knowing it meant nothing to him and everything to her, and even knowing that, she’d give an arm to wake up like this every day for the rest of her life.

God, she was pathetic. Sleeping beside the man who destroyed her was stupid. Wanting him was weak. Still loving him was pathetic.

He tightened his arm around her waist. Then he shifted. She stilled, holding her breath. He rubbed his face against her shoulder blade inhaling as he glided a hand to her lower abdomen and pressed his hips against her. Feeling the length of his shaft on her butt, she jumped slightly.

A second later, he spoke in his groggy, deep voice. “Fuck.”

She held her breath, hoping to God he’d go back to sleep. No way in hell he’d look at her and not know how much she enjoyed waking up like that.

“Know you’re awake, Em.”

Her chest warmed. He used to call her “Em” all the time. He was never much for pet names, only “babe” when he teased her, but he’d called her “Em” all the time. Even though she’d been living at the compound for close to a month, he never called her Em or by her full name, not until last night. She wasn’t that stupid to think it meant something though. He probably felt bad for her. Poor, weak, pathetic Em going all those years still loving a man who never loved her, loving a man who broke her.

She didn’t know what she expected. She never imagined seeing him again, never imagined telling him why she left. He made her, and she had. All it cost her—more heartbreak. He’d been shocked. Of course, he never knew she knew and proved it last night. And the fact he didn’t have anything to say, not an excuse, not an apology, was because it was the truth. He broke her again, and she had to watch him walk away. Ironic that the last time she’d run away.

That hadn’t been enough for him. He forced her in the shower, making her think he cared about her getting sick when he’d been the one to leave her outside for hours. Then he made her sleep in bed with him.

“Em?”

Her chest tightened, this time painfully. She closed her eyes firmly forcing the memory of last night away.

“How’re you feeling?”

She should tell him the truth. She felt like she’d been run over by several eighteen-wheelers driven by him. Instead, she whispered, “Fine.” The truth. Right then and there, with his arm around her, his breath on her neck, she was just fine.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His hand at her waist gripped her hip. He flipped her until she laid on her other side, her chest to his. Then he scanned her face for endless moments. God help her, but he actually looked worried about her, just like he had the night before.

It’s all a lie. Don’t believe it. He cheated, broke you.

“You sure?”

She looked like shit, knew it. And he was still looking at her intensely. She should’ve gotten up while she had the chance even if she’d pay for it. Better than him seeing her looking like shit, right?

God, she was so pathetic!

“You dreaming with your eyes open?” He smiled wide and big and at her.

She’d seen him smile a lot, even recently. For a long time, she thought she’d never see it again. Then she thought she’d never be rewarded with it. And out of nowhere, there it was. He smiled at her while he teased her.

So shocked by it, she stuttered when she responded. “N-no.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“You sleep good?”

Afraid her voice would betray her, she nodded.

“Glad.”

Yep, he definitely thought she was weak and pathetic. He slept beside her, cuddled close because he felt bad for her. Could her life get any worse?

“Bree should be coming back soon. We should get up.”

Yeah, she just didn’t want to. Still, because she had no choice, she nodded and moved.

****

The next several days flew by, Em in a daze, forcing herself to forget—as much as she could—her breakdown. She worked, cooked, cleaned, and spent time with Bree. As for Bryce, something in him had changed that night she told him the reason she left. He didn’t seem angry as often anymore. There were times she spotted him in the garage while Bree was at school, and he seemed mad, but he hid it when he spoke to her. The biggest change—the way he treated her. He didn’t lose his temper, didn’t say mean or crude things, didn’t find random excuses to pick fights. Meaning, he wasn’t an asshole anymore. Granted, it hadn’t been long, but this gave her hope that maybe one day, Bree would have parents who spoke to each other without resentment or anger, that one day she and Bryce could raise their daughter in a healthier environment for all of them.

She and Bree had been living in the compound for more than five weeks. They’d both settled into a routine of sorts, but she had yet to hear about Chip. Thinking on how to broach the subject with Bryce or even if she should broach it, a customer walked in. She greeted him pleasantly and asked how she could help. He gave her his name and handed her his credit card stating he had to close out a bill. She charged him, updated the file in the computer, printing an invoice then had him sign his credit card receipt. She stapled the invoice and receipt copy, handed them to him, and said a quick “thank you” before she went back to work.

“You should smile more.”

Her gaze trailed away from the monitor and moved toward him. For the first time, she took a good look at the man standing in front of her. Handsome, a little over six-feet with golden-brown hair gelled back. Eyes a dark-brown shade, he wore a pair of dark pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and tie. The type of man Chip wanted her to end up with.

All those years ago, when she told Chip about Bryce after their third date, Chip hadn’t been pleased. He knew about bikers, considering he was one, and he had high hopes for her. He wanted her to end up with a man who made an honest living. Chip lectured her, but she hadn’t listened. She’d been so adamant Bryce was different or that he was different about her. Chip gave in eventually, but she never thought it had anything to do with her convincing him. More likely, it had to do with him wanting her to be happy and letting her live her life the way she wanted. Maybe Chip figured when Bryce messed up, he’d be there to catch her fall. If it hadn’t been for the fact she’d been pregnant, he would have.

Looking at the handsome man in front of her, she hated to think what would’ve happened had she fallen for a man like him. Maybe she would’ve never been hurt. Maybe she would have, but she wouldn’t have Bree.

“You’ve got a beautiful smile. You should smile more.”

Times like these she wished she was over Bryce, wished she’d move on. She’d definitely go for a line like that, simple and sweet, a man who subtly tried to find out if she was interested, a man who didn’t press her but let her make the next move, so she did.

She smiled softly. “I’ll try.” Then she looked away, nicely telling him she wasn’t interested. Before she did, she caught him smiling.

A loud bang sounded as the door leading into the garage crashed open. Her gaze shot up. The customer’s hand on the knob to the other door, leading outside, he stopped mid-stride and turned to the sound. She did as well and spotted Bryce, jaw hard, hands in fists, eyes dead.

She knew that look, knew what would come… Just when things had gotten better between them, a shame. Holding her breath, she steeled herself for the verbal assault.

Bryce glared at the customer then looked at her. “Babe, hungry.”

Not what she expected him to say.

He took a step, ending by the window with a view of the garage, and snapped the blinds shut. Walking toward the other side of the office, Bryce made it to the other window and shut those blinds as well just as the customer left. When the door closed, Bryce locked it then strode back to the other door and locked that one as well.

Walking toward her with a hungry yet livid look in his eyes, she spoke quickly, “I’ll make you a sandwich.”

He strode past her.

She expelled a breath then heard the blinds of the window behind her snapping shut and turned. “I’ll make you—”

The next instant, he crushed his lips against hers. His tongue parted her lips, arms wrapped around her back, tugging her to him. And she didn’t fight. The scent of him around her, the taste of him in her mouth, she couldn’t fight. She’d wanted him for so long, never stopped, so she couldn’t push him away. She gave in just like the last time, and just like the last time, she encouraged him, hooking her arms around him, digging her nails into his back. When he trailed his mouth down her neck, she moaned.

“Don’t want a sandwich. Want to eat you,” he whispered against the skin on her neck.

Goosebumps erupted, her whole body shivered, his heat burning her. The next moment, he pushed her up against the desk and gripped her ass. Lifting her effortlessly placing her butt on the counter, his fingers unfastened the button on her jeans. Before she knew it, he tugged her pants and thong down her legs.

Bare and dripping wet, he knelt in front of her. Her eyes met his, her legs actually widened on their own in anticipation. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he shoved her forward until his mouth met her core. Then he fed.

The second she felt him there, she screamed a scream that turned into a moan. His tongue lapped against her clit, the stubble covering his chin and cheeks making the pleasure more intense. In seconds, she was there. He knew it, must’ve felt it because he pulled away just before.

Her legs convulsed. “No… Please…”

“You want it, Em?”

Breathing heavily, she nodded, frantically. “Please…”

“Watch me.”

She held his eyes for a long moment. Then he fed from her, again. He did it faster, harder, holding her eyes the entire time almost as if willing her to look away. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She wanted to watch him there, pleasuring her, wanted to watch his face when he made her come. It didn’t take long.

His fingers bit into her thighs as it hit her. Powerful, so mind-numbingly powerful her head snapped back, her whole body shook as she let out a deep moan.

The next thing she knew, he stood, grabbed the back of her neck, and brought her face to his, so she met his strange, beautiful eyes. Those eyes that weren’t dead but hungry. For her.

Jaw clenched, muscles on his shoulders bunched, he pressed the length of him into her. She hadn’t noticed when he’d dropped his jeans and boxers. Holding her breath, she wrapped her legs around his waist, helping him inside.

Then he was in, stretching her, owning her, and the feel of him…like nothing she’d ever felt.

He held still for an endless moment, eyes holding hers and widening when he let out a groan. “Fuck.” His hand at her neck trailed down her side then gripped her hip. He pulled out of her slowly then slammed into her, hard and sudden.

She screamed, and her head flew back, arms went around his shoulders, holding on.

“Look at me.”

Instantly, she did. She realized in that endless moment and not for the first time just how handsome he was.

His ragged breaths hitting her, he drove into her again and again. Then she forgot everything but the feel of him around her and inside her. He tensed a moment before it hit her again. She was gone, but she refused to lose sight of his eyes.

He thrust harder and faster. His cock jerking inside her, he groaned so loud she heard it over her own moans. She couldn’t do anything but stare at him connected to her and catch her breath until the high faded. Only then she became very aware of what they’d done, what she let him do to her, again.

He fucked her, hard and rough on top of her desk at work! They hadn’t been discreet either. She’d been loud. At least he’d closed the blinds, right?

He had been her first and last, the father of her child, the man she fell for at eighteen and never got over, but he cheated. He never loved her. He destroyed her. She knew all of this, and still, all he had to do was kiss her, and she was spreading her legs?

Feeling her cheeks heat, she tore her gaze from his. Still inside, he hadn’t moved. It seemed he didn’t have plans to. She should make him. A part of her wanted to, but she couldn’t find the strength, which only made her want to cry. She hadn’t managed to do anything she should’ve, so she promised herself in that instant, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, again.

He pulled out of her, slowly. Because she was stupid, weak, and pathetic, she missed it, missed him. She didn’t let herself think on that long. Her hands went to his chest, she shoved him hard, hopped off her desk, grabbed her thong and jeans on the floor, and tugged them on quickly. As she did that, her gaze landed on the camera at the top left corner of the room.

How had she forgotten? She noticed it weeks ago, the same week she started working in the office, so she knew they watched her every move.

Oh God, she’d let him film her. Bryce and his brothers would watch how easily he’d taken her on top of her desk at work, how easily he made her his whore. Because having his brothers hear them hadn’t been humiliating enough; now they’d get to watch her too, over and over again.

Damn it. Bryce could put that video on the Internet, or he could blackmail her with it, make her do whatever he wanted.

Shit! She’d get fired too, and then, she’d have nothing to occupy her time in between taking care of Bree. She wouldn’t be able to save money and would be out on the street as soon as the shit storm with the Falcons ended.

How was it possible she still loved him?

Realizing this, she broke the promise she made to herself a moment ago. Her eyes watered, and tears fell down her face. At least, her voice didn’t tremble when she spoke. “Leave.”

His eyes went dead when he hardened his jaw. Then he tugged on his boxers and jeans. “Scratched the itch, so you’re done with me?”

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re unbelievable.”

He closed the distance between them. “Gotta speak up, babe. Can’t hear you.”

“You got what you wanted, Ripper. Now, just make it quick and tell me what you want.”

Brows furrowing, he cocked his head. “Come again?”

Not in the mood to play his mind games, she shot back, “You got your video.” She pointed toward the camera.

He looked to it. Then his body locked.

“Now you can show your brothers how easy I made it for you, how quickly you made me your whore. Though you really didn’t need to because I’m sure they heard. Then again, you probably wanted a video for other reasons, right? So you can use it against me?”

She got on the tips of her toes and leaned into him. “Well, do your worst, Ripper. Do it. You forget, I’m already broken, and just an FYI, nothing will make me give up my daughter.”

He just stood there. Body strung tight, looking at her, his eyes dead yet shining. Why the hell? She had no clue. Maybe because she figured out his plan.

He should’ve said something, anything. He should’ve at least told her what he wanted, but no, he just walked away. No surprise there, not the first time he walked away without so much as a word, and she doubted it’d be the last.

Thinking this, she inhaled, exhaled, and got back to work.

****

Bree passed out. Thank God. Emelia grew tired of hearing her ask when her father would be home.

Em hadn’t seen Bryce since that afternoon. After he had her and walked away, he picked up Bree from school. She caught sight of him when Bree strode into the office. After four, Bryce usually swung by the office for Bree. He took her to the backlot of the compound where he’d built her swing set. Other times, they sat in front of the television and watched a movie or show. But that afternoon had been different. Bryce, it seemed, disappeared into thin air. Bree asked several of the brothers where he went, and no one knew. After work, she took Bree to the backlot herself and let her play for half an hour before she made dinner. She left Bree in the living room watching TV. They ate afterward without Bryce since he was still gone, which in itself was odd. He never missed dinner. In fact, he never missed a meal. When he ate out, he took Bree, always.

Bree asked several brothers again when she spotted them after dinner, and she asked her repeatedly. The brothers didn’t know or refused to say. Emelia didn’t know what to say. She called him three times. He hadn’t answered, so she told Bree Bryce probably had a work emergency.

Finally, Bree fell asleep. She hoped by the time morning came Bryce reappeared. She hated to admit she worried. It wasn’t like Bryce to disappear without telling Bree. He spent the afternoons and evenings with her, ate dinner with her, said goodnight, and tucked her in.

With those thoughts on her mind, she headed into her closet to find the Harley shirt she always wore to bed. You’d think after Bryce got so mad seeing her in it, she would’ve stopped wearing it. She hadn’t. She couldn’t. She’d worn it for years now. Because he was tall and she wasn’t, it hung low on her reaching her mid-thigh. It was also old and raggedly, which made it all the more comfortable. And yes, it had once been his. He gave it to her. She loved it then. She loved it now. She didn’t know why he’d been so angry to see her wearing it, didn’t know why he let her keep it in the end, but she was glad.

Stripping down to her thong, she donned the tee then stepped out of the closet. The door to her room parted, and Bryce strode in. His stare went to the bed where Bree lay. He released a breath then spared a glance at her tee before meeting her eyes. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her chest, wishing she waited to dress for bed.

“Lost track of time.”

She guessed that much. That or he lay in a ditch somewhere. Bryce didn’t miss spending time with Bree, ever.

“Did she ask for me?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Could’ve called.”

“I did. Three times.”

His brows rose. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. Looking at the screen, he mumbled, “Fuck.” Then he met her stare. “On silent.”

“I told her you had a work emergency.”

He lifted his chin. “Thanks.”

Bryce walked toward the bed, gave Bree a kiss on the forehead as he simultaneously dragged a hand through her hair. Then he straightened and advanced taking step after step toward her. Em fought the urge to back away. Stopping a couple of feet away, his arm sprang forward, holding out a CD. She had no idea why and must’ve looked confused.

“That’s it.”

It didn’t answer a thing. She quirked a brow and asked, “What?”

Looking down at his feet, he released a frustrated sigh like she should know what he meant. He shifted his hand from the top of his head to the back before he looked at her again. “The video of…today.”

Shit. The video. Of them. Not a CD but a DVD, proof of just how easily she became his whore, and he was handing it over. Why? Trying to trick her? Did he have another copy?

He walked a little closer then spoke in a low voice. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but I didn’t mean to get us on film. I don’t want anyone looking at a video of anyone banging my kid’s mom even if it’s me who’s banging her. I’d never even think to use it against you ’cause I couldn’t bring myself to share it, ’cause I don’t want anyone to ever see it. I acted on impulse, so I wasn’t thinking about the camera. Meaning I didn’t plan it, and I sure as hell didn’t have a motive.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, the brothers probably heard you. They heard me, too. I wouldn’t care except I wasn’t banging some tap. I was banging my kid’s mom, so I care they heard you. I care they heard me. We’ve never been quiet before. The walls here aren’t sound proof, so I’m sure they’ve heard us before. When you were mine, no one said shit to you, so as my kid’s mom, no one’s gonna say shit to you.”

Had he just… Shit, he had. No way in hell she’d hallucinated. Her hand went to her throat, she swallowed thickly. She should say something, thank him at least, but she couldn’t put two words together.

“And you aren’t gonna be fired.”

She didn’t know how long she just stood there, looking at him, but it had been a while when he spoke again.

He held up the DVD. “You gonna make me wait all night for you to take this?”

God, he was beautiful, so rugged and handsome with those thick, arched brows, stubble-covered, squared jaw, and unique eyes.

“Em?”

She needed to focus, concentrate. Maybe Em shouldn’t believe him. He never said anything he didn’t mean though. Yes, he cheated and broke her, but he never said they were exclusive, never said he loved her. He bought a new bed, one he hadn’t fucked taps on, but maybe he hadn’t had sex with Lilliam there, or maybe he and Lilliam had been more than just meaningless sex.

She believed him, and the fact she did made her feel like shit for assuming the worst earlier and snapping at him.

His eyes hardened to slits. “Fuck it.” He turned and stormed off, but before he walked out of her room, he set the DVD on the armoire.

Insane that it made her feel bad for letting him go thinking she didn’t believe him. After all he’d done to her, she didn’t owe him anything, and still, guilt choked her.

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