Aaron - Day 18

Later that evening, I informed Megan that I wanted to eat dinner at my dining table. When she sat my food in front of me and attempted to run away, my hand clamped around her wrist to keep her in place. I’d caught a hold of her rougher than I had intended to, but my action stopped her in her fast-moving tracks.

My glance stayed on my hand wrapped around her warm, soft wrist. Without looking up at her, I spoke. “I want you to join me. I want to hear the story from your mouth…the story of how you landed this so-called maid’s job with my MC. We’ve had fucking deep cover agents that couldn’t have done what you’re doing right now.”

Once I released her wrist, she rushed off to fix her plate, returned to the table, and took the seat across from me. I listened to her story intently as she updated me on her sister’s drug use and her constant struggle to save her from herself.

The military had taught me what to look for in body language to spot lies, and Megan appeared genuine in the telling of her story. The flow of her tense words and the strain of sadness she tried to cover when she spoke of her sister were indicators. However, if Megan was telling me the truth, it wasn’t the whole truth. She was leaving out more than a few sentences. She was leaving out complete chapters.

It did fascinate me to find out that she truly was an author. The fact that she made a living from writing was impressive. This was a new endeavor for me, to have a genuine interest in someone other than a target or potential business associate. I was interested in Megan. Previously, my interest in women had never gone past me wanting to fuck them.

When Megan handed me her smart phone, I paused. My gaze pivoted between her and the phone before I reached for it. She’d pulled up multiple online sites that sold her books, and to my surprise, there were many. The information made me that much more curious about this woman.

Her story caused me to question some of the negative shit that had been drilled in my head about blacks my entire life. Megan didn’t fit into any of the stereotypes that I’d been taught. The more I talked to her, the more I was convinced that lies had been shoved down my throat from the start. Thankfully, common sense made me acknowledge as much, and I was starting to realize it was possible that everything I’d been taught could have been a bunch of lies and stereotypical bullshit.

Interested in more aspects of her life, I swiped through her cell.

“What kind of music do you listen to, Megan?” I asked as I searched through more than just music. I wanted to know about the things she wanted to keep hidden. The damn chapters she’d skipped over when telling her story.

She reached for her phone. Once she had it, she swiped and tapped the screen a few times and handed it back to me. “This is my master playlist. I listen to everything.”

After raising an eyebrow, I tapped the screen and hit shuffle. The first song that popped up was a country tune that I enjoyed by Florida Georgia Line. While the song played, I glanced at her, eyeing her with suspicion. I listened to about a minute of the song before I shuffled to the next one. A classic rock tune by Journey played, followed by a heavy metal song. A rap song followed that song, and a few other different genres of music after that.

Her voice interrupted my thoughts. “You thought because I’m African-American that I only listen to rap and R&B, right?”

That was exactly what the hell I’d thought. I couldn’t lie.

“Yes. That’s what I thought. As a matter of fact, a lot of what I was taught doesn’t seem to be true, not for you anyway.”

The ice had been broken, and some of her tension eased enough for her to talk more openly with me now. She wasn’t as tense now that she saw that I wasn’t a monster.

A tiny crease lined her forehead. “Unfortunately, a small percentage usually represents the whole of us in society’s eyes, and it’s usually the worst of us that the spotlight gets shined on,” she said.

I understood exactly what she meant. The media always found the biggest, meanest, and most illiterate redneck around and presented him to the world as representation of all of us.

I let the music play when one of my favorite country tunes by Garth Brooks spilled from the speakers. My feet tapped under the table as my mood lightened even more. My eyes skimmed over the delicate features of Megan’s beautiful face before landing on that silky brown shoulder that peeked from the top edge of her shirt and gave a glimpse of what she tried to hide. Although she didn’t appear old enough to be a widow, I’d found out that Megan’s husband was a soldier that had been killed in Iraq three years ago.

As a former marine, I understood deployments and military life. I’d nearly had my head blown off in Iraq and was damn near blown to hell in Afghanistan. I still had a few tiny pieces of shrapnel in my back as a result of my time served.

After her husband’s death, Megan claimed she’d turned into a recluse and poured her heart into her fiction writing. The writing paid off and turned into a livable income. Other than her sister, she had no family. She’d told me when she was younger, the state had dumped her into and yanked her out of six foster homes by the time she was twelve.

The mournful look on her face when she spoke of foster care indicated that she’d likely had a hard time in the system. She’d shown more emotion talking about foster care than she had talking about her sister. That sad look on her face sparked a pang of sorrow within me, and I wanted to do something to take that look off her beautiful face.

Wait! Where in the hell was all this coming from and more importantly, how was she making me feel this way? I changed the subject before more unusual shit decided to creep into my brain.

“So, you spent all of your savings getting your sister into a top-notch rehab facility? Then, you turned around and did something as crazy as pawn yourself off to a bunch of dangerous bikers like us, all so that you can clear up the mess that she’d made? Have you considered that we could still end up raping or killing you?” I leaned forward a hair. “Just because you shot someone in front of my MC doesn’t mean you’re safe. We are not good people. We have lots of enemies gunning for us, and you could get caught in the crosshairs of our turmoil.”

Her facial expression never changed as she let my words sink in. There was an unexplainable look of alarming intrigue in her expression. My comments should have been frightening to her, but I didn’t think they were. There was something peculiar about this woman that intrigued me as much as it alarmed me. Was she naïve, stupid, or manipulative?

“You do realize that any number of things can happen to you just by hanging around with our kind? We have been attempting to refine our behavior and the way we conduct business, but we are still very dangerous people.”

I squinted my eyes as I stared at her, speaking my words with purpose so that she’d understand what she’d truly gotten herself into by dealing with the August Knights. Aside from the steady flow of her breaths, those big brown eyes with their long, flirting lashes were all that moved as she took in my words and observed me with a curious glint. I was so aware of her that I could literally see her dark pupils swell each time her gaze landed on my lips. She was checking me out as much as I was checking her out, studying me just as I was her.

No matter how fascinating Megan was turning out to be, something was strangely off about her. I’d talked of raping and killing her, and she hadn’t even flinched. Something wasn’t adding up, and I couldn’t put my finger on what was off about her.

“I think there is a lot more you’re not telling me, Megan. For you to do this, something this extreme, tells me you’re not as afraid of this environment or any of us as you’d like us to believe. I think you’re insane or you’re probably one of those women who gets off on being scared.”

Something I couldn’t identify sparked in her eyes at my statement. I’d always been a good puzzle solver. I could tell by studying her that she had some jagged parts and pieces that were never meant to be put back together. Hints of darkness peeked out from the veneer of innocence she presented.

People took in my appearance and assumed I was some dumb redneck biker, but I’d always been more inclined to learn and plan before I acted and I’d become a good problem solver and business negotiator as a result. I’d also become a predatory killer, one of my MC’s most dangerous weapons. Being this way has made me patient; patient enough to piece together a good puzzle, even one as complex as I suspected Megan was.

“I am going to download one of your books,” I blurted out.

A smile.

I’d finally put a smile on her beautiful face. Straight white teeth flashed in front of me and made her face even prettier than before. I tightened my lips to keep from returning the smile.

There was nothing that I’d noticed that I didn’t like about Megan. I liked the fact that she didn’t have to wear fancy clothes or spend hours on hair and makeup to look beautiful. Nature had taken care of everything where her beauty was concerned. Although she worked constantly, she always managed to look clean and smelled fresh. But not perfume-fresh, though. It was more like she kept fresh showers in her pocket.

My gaze fell to the small diamond studs in her earlobes and then moved to those long, flirty lashes that introduced the seduction hidden behind her eyelids that I wasn’t sure she was aware was there. The lushness of her full lips lured my gaze to her mouth. My gaze paused there before traveling down to her neck, which was not lost or sunken into her shoulders.

Her neck was long enough for me to wrap my hand around it comfortably to enable me to control several positions I’d like to put her in. The fluffy and bouncy texture of her curly dark hair was as flirty as those damn lashes.

My lips twitched at the roundness of her tits. By my eye’s measurements, they would fit perfectly into the palms of my hands. The tempting curve of her ass, that I’d eyeballed multiple times, was surely capable of taking a good pounding from the back. My eyes hadn’t missed that ass, not even the first time I’d seen her at the clubhouse.

Although I hadn’t seen her naked, I’d pieced together enough to know that her body was toned and sexy as fuck like she spent her free time working out when she wasn’t working for dangerous bikers.

She was sitting there watching me virtually undress her with my eyes. Unlike before, she didn’t seem bothered by it now. Her gaze followed my finger when I pointed at what appeared to be a scar on her arm, higher near her shoulder.

“What are those marks on your arm?” I asked, dropping my hand on the table to stop myself from reaching over to touch her.

“It’s a birth control device,” she said, glancing down at the spot I’d pointed out.

“That’s good. Smart. That way, if one of us raped you, you wouldn’t have to worry about getting pregnant.”

Her lids lifted to me, but she didn’t comment. I sat there and stared at her for a solid minute, trying to fill in the blanks of what she wasn’t telling me. My unflinching gaze finally made her fidget, and I don’t think it was because she was scared. She picked at the food left on her plate, avoiding my eyes.

She was hiding something, and I wanted to know what it was. I wasn’t going to stop until I figured her out. She was on my radar now, and I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing for Megan.

Unable to take my staring, she stood, gathered the rest of the dishes, and proceeded to wash them by hand despite my dishwasher. I remained at the table with a smile spread across my face. My beast was stirring, and he wanted to devour Megan in every way imaginable.

* * *

The light drum of my fingers against the table sounded as I scrutinized Megan and half listened to the music spilling from her phone. She’d finished the dishes, but to avoid me, she’d started wiping the countertop down, rubbing so hard she was about to take chunks of the granite with each swipe.

Standing, I intended to leave. All I had to do was step away from the table and head towards the living room, but her presence had drawn me in and kept me from leaving. I crept up behind Megan and invaded her personal space as she continued to pour her anxious energy into that countertop.

Her hand stopped moving the moment she realized I was close. She didn’t turn in my direction when I placed my hands on the counter on either side of her warm body and locked her in place. My nose sat above her curly ponytail, and I sniffed loud enough for the sound of my deep inhale to carry.

My nostrils flared, taking in the soft fruity scent she emitted. Her hair smelled of freshly plucked peaches. I dipped my nose closer to her neck and found that her skin smelled of chocolate covered strawberries. The soft, flowing scents mingled as they invaded my senses and caused me to close my eyes to savor them longer and deeper.

Her accelerated breathing over the low tunes I’d left playing on her phone in the background heightened my arousal. I inched closer and didn’t stop until my hard dick was pressed into the soft curve of her ass. She gasped at my invasion but didn’t push me away.

My body sank into her soft flowing curves. With my chest pressed into her heaving body, I placed my lips to her ear. “You’re out here in the middle of the woods alone with me. There is no one that can help you for miles around. No one can hear you if you scream. What would you do if I fucked you right now?”

Her breathing kicked up a notch, and I liked it. No, I loved it. The pulse in her neck jumped, straining to keep her heart from exploding, and I didn’t know if it was fear or arousal that caused her to react this way.

Her body heaved up and down against mine. Breath after noisy breath brought a spark of life to my kitchen that the music couldn’t, but she didn’t say a word. The movement of her body, however involuntary, made my dick harder, so hard, in fact, it was starting to ache. My lips brushed the tip of her earlobe, causing her to shiver as I sent more hot words into her ear.

“What would you do, Megan? Because I’m not going to lie to you. I want to fuck you right now.”

She turned her body around, rubbing her warmth against mine. The tremble in her limbs revealed that I was scaring the shit out of her. Despite her obvious fright, she managed to look up at me. Her words were low and shaky, but she had the courage to speak them.

“There’s not a thing I could do. It doesn’t matter that no one can hear me because no one around here would help me even if they did hear me screaming.”

My hands had grown heavy with an ache I’d never felt in them before. I peeled them from the counter, fighting not to do what I knew I shouldn’t—touch her. If I touched her right now, there was no telling what kind of rules I was subject to break.

The ache in my palms started to spread. Before I tore my hand away from her, like I’d intended to, it raked up her side until my thumb passed across the hard tip of her nipple. The action made her breath hitch. Her eyes fluttered closed, but she recovered quickly and returned her gaze to mine.

She was afraid of me, but at the same time, my touch turned her on. I could tell by the way her lips fell apart and how hard her nipples were, as I continued to pass my thumb across one.

Megan was giving it a good effort, but she couldn’t hide the flaming heat blazing in her gaze or the lust that hung heavily in her eyes.

Seeing her react this way to my touch heightened my arousal and reminded me that I hadn’t been with a woman in a lot of fucking months. The realization made my breathing kick up a few notches, and noticing how turned on Megan was didn’t help my dilemma.

I could no longer fight it. I was about to lose it. I was about to lose control of my actions. One second I was testing her to see if it was lust or fear she was hiding. The next second I’d lifted her onto the counter top and pulled her roughly into me, spreading her legs around me. She dropped her gaze and heaved deep breaths as her arms were forced to rest at my sides.

One of my hands gripped her ass, holding her against me while the other one roamed her body taking liberties I didn’t have permission to take. One of her hands started to rise. It sat shaking against my abs as if she were unsure of what to do with it.

Her other hand had a tight grip of my shirt on the opposite side. She was displaying the same behavior I’d seen that caused me to act this way in the first place. On one hand, she was terrified while on the other hand, she’d taken a hold of me.

I pressed my bearded cheek against hers, enjoying her soft warmth as it radiated into me. My lust-filled whispers kissed her ear.

“I want to fuck you, Megan. I want to fuck you so fucking bad that I can hardly stand it. Fuck, you’re killing me.”

My lust had turned me into a raging monster I’d lost control of. But, I had to regain control and calm myself because Megan obviously had no idea what she was doing to me. She was so afraid but so turned on at the same time. I needed to pull it together or I was going to lose it. Plus…rubbers.

I’d never had a woman in my house, so I was sure I didn’t have any fucking rubbers. The fact that Megan had made no attempt to fight me or push me away made me linger.

“Can I fuck you with no condom, Megan?”

This question got her attention, and for the first time, she eased her head away from mine before she scooted away from me. She’d released my shirt, and her trembling fingers were no long massaging my abs. Her gaze captured mine.

“I hope that you won’t, but there is not much I can do about it if you force it.”

The word force dialed down my intensity. She may as well have poured a bucket of ice over my head. I’d never had to force myself on any woman. Most, freely offered me their pussy.

“I don’t have anything,” I informed her; unsure of why I felt the need to tell her that.

Megan had me talking crazy and ready to do crazy shit. At twenty-seven, Megan had me ready to break a major rule I’d set for myself and had followed emphatically over the years. The last time I’d fucked with no condom on, I was a loose-dick eighteen-year-old boy who battled a constant pussy-drought as I searched desperately for a sliver of wetness in a sea of stingy teen girls.

“How do you know that I don’t have anything?” she asked, her voice low but serious.

“Megan, I believed you when you said you’d become a recluse. I’m willing to bet you haven’t had sex since your husband was killed. Your pussy is probably tighter than a virgin bride and wetter than a fucking dripping faucet.”

She dropped her head further, a tell-tale sign that I’d likely hit the nail on the head. I wasn’t going to fuck her without a condom, but I’d be damned if it wasn’t taking every ounce of my willpower to leave her alone. My dick was as hard as a steel support beam, but I managed to back away with a loud groan.

After placing Megan’s feet back on the floor, I turned away from her quickly. It had barely been forty-eight hours, and I’d almost done the one thing my father had ordered me not to do. I swiped at the beads of sweat that had gathered at my hairline and forced myself to get as far away from Megan’s tempting ass as I could get.

I didn’t need to store up any firewood or chop it. I’d used my fireplace twice in three years, but I was about to go and pick up an ax and start chopping down some fucking trees. I’d never reacted to a woman like that. I needed to expend some of this built-up energy. The way I was feeling, those fucking woods were about to catch hell.