It Ain't Me, Babe

Page 65

I coughed out a short laugh. “I b-bet. I c-couldn’t speak for shit b-back then. The only two people I-I’d ever uttered a word to were my ol-old man and Ky. But seeing you, curled up in that p-pilgrim dress and w-whimpering, forced me to talk. Y-your beautiful eyes d-drew me in.” Mae’s pouting red lips tugged into a shy smile. “Still do. B-been torture you sh-shutting me out like this for d-days.”

I had to ask the question burning in my mind. I just had to know. “You l-like R-Rider, Mae? You want h-him?”

She sat up, shocked, and her mouth dropped. “It is not like that! Rider is a good friend. He has never been anything but nice to me. He risked his life for me at the park, for goodness sake. He saved me, took a bullet to save my life. He understands how I was raised, Styx. I like him. He is a kind and honest man.”

“You t-told him ’bout your b-background?”

“No, I did not tell him! You now know most about me, Styx, but he understands the scripture I—we all—had to live by. Rider has lived by it too, I think. He helps me make sense of this outside world… this club… even you, your role as President, things you must do to protect your brothers.”

As she stroked my cheek, the bristles of my unshaven jaws scratched underneath her short nails. “You have to understand, Styx. Life out here, outside the commune, is so confusing for me. Half the time I have no clue what people are talking to me about. I just smile and nod, hoping they do not realize my confusion. I do not know all the modern devices that dominate your day-to-day life. I certainly do not understand the rules and the behavior of the men at this club. The way you speak to each other, to women, seems so wrong. It scares me at times. Rider understands my faith; no, my old faith. I do not know what I believe anymore or what to believe for that matter. Rider has not pushed me to be any different than I already am. He really did care for me when you were away, when you entrusted me to his care. I admit I do like him. Rider is my closest friend here in your world. I shall not give him up willingly, Styx. I… I need him.”

A great f**kin’ sinking feeling materialized in my stomach. I didn’t know shit about her, did I? I wasn’t sure I could deal with Mae being that close to Rider and sleeping in my bed. I was possessive and not into sharing. But I’d f**kin’ pushed them together. I wanted to shoot my own ass for being so goddamn stupid. Of course the brother would fall for Mae. She was f**kin’ perfect. The brother had clearly fallen hard, and shit, he was a better choice for her than me, that was for sure. Didn’t mean I was giving her up, though.

No. Fuckin’. Way.

Mae cleared her throat and her big blue eyes lifted up to meet mine. “I have only ever liked one boy in my life. I have only wanted one man to have as my own. I have only ever had one dream since I was eight. Styx, the dream is you. You stole my heart fifteen years ago and you still haven’t given it back.”

“B-babe,” I murmured, my heart f**kin’ slamming. Flattening my palms to her stomach, I ran them up and down her torso, smiling at her hitch in breath as my nose ran along her neck, my teeth scraping against the exposed skin.

Pressing my lips to her ear, I whispered, “I w-want you too. F-fuck, I want you in m-my bed, by my side, on m-my bike. I w-want you as m-my old lady. Taking c-care of me, n-needing me… letting me inside you.”

Her breath paused, but the release of a long, relieved sigh said it all.

Mae wanted that too.

As she laid her head in the crook between my shoulder and neck, she reached up around my head with her hand and played with the back of my hair. Damn. I actually felt happy. Despite all the shit threatening the club—the Russian deal, the shooting, Lois taking lead to her skull, and the Nazis gunning after me—I was happy. For the first time since my old man had gone to the boatman last year, I felt f**kin’ good.

Mae was mine. Fifteen long years of wanting her to be mine, and here she sat, curled up in my arms—a f**kin’ angel in hell.

“Styx?” Mae asked as I pulled her even closer.

“Mmm?” I murmured, licking around the shell of her ear, loving her tensing her stomach in need as I did so.

“I loved what you were playing. When you play the guitar and sing, it… well, I think it is my most favorite thing in the world. We were prohibited from listening to music at commune. When we were younger, my sister and I found an old radio in the forest. We managed to listen to it for thirty minutes before a guard found us. He took it away. I have never forgotten it, though, hearing the melodies, adoring the poetry of the lyrics. Prophet David issued an order shortly after that. Music was banned from then on.

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