Page 39 of Cheshire

Jo reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “You won’t. It’s reality, Eliza. Just hold on to him with all you’ve got… and ride out the storm as best you can.”

Jo walked me to my room, and I lay awake for hours. Closing my eyes, I’d done my best to envision my future with Cheshire. Did he want a family? Would we always live here at the clubhouse? Would our lives always be filled with danger and chaos?

At some point, I fell into a restless sleep, my dreams plagued by nightmares. Cheshire dying at my father’s hands, in multiple ways. Over and over… but the worst part was how helpless I felt each time, unable to stop it from happening. I had no choice but to cry over his lifeless body, unable to change what happened, even when I knew it was coming.

By the time I woke in the morning, my head ached and my heart hurt. What would I do if those dreams became a reality? I didn’t think I could handle losing him. Wasn’t sure I wanted to.

With my thoughts dark and heavy, I forced myself out of bed. Whether I wanted to or not, I needed to get up and face the day head-on.

Chapter Fourteen

Cheshire

The first rays of dawn sliced through the blinds. I rolled onto my back, the sheets tangling around my legs -- a poor man’s embrace compared to Eliza’s touch. Would she be in bed with me right now if we hadn’t been interrupted? Or would I have found the strength to hold back once more?

I slung my arm over my eyes, blocking out the light but not the images of Eliza playing in my mind. Flashes of her smile, the curve of her hip, the innocent look in her eyes -- they played on repeat, a damn film reel I couldn’t shut off.

Frustration built inside me. Her image was burned into my mind, seared onto every damn thought. It was more than wanting. It was a hunger, clawing from the inside out. Even now, my cock was hard as a fucking rock.

I shoved my hand down inside my boxers and started stroking. The mere thought of her lying under me, legs splayed, my name on her lips, was nearly enough to make me come. I pumped my cock in quick, short strokes, biting back a groan as I came all over my hand. I hadn’t been that quick since high school.

I threw the covers off, my skin prickling. The air was cool, but it didn’t touch the burn under my skin. Each breath was heavier, thick with desire for her, and I knew -- I was done fighting this. But first I needed to clean myself up.

Eliza. Her name was a bullet, shot straight through the armor I’d built. She was the wrench in my plans, the unexpected twist in my road -- my road that had always been clear and straight.

I ran a hand through my hair. The club, my brothers, relied on me to be sharp, to think ahead. But now, it was like I was wading through mud, her pull dragging me down, deeper and darker.

“Damn woman,” I whispered, half-curse and half-plea. There was no choice left. I had to have her, had to claim what was mine.

I went into the bathroom and ran the shower. After I stripped off my boxers, I tossed them into the hamper in the corner and stepped under the spray. A quick scrub was enough to clean away the evidence of what I’d done and clear the cobwebs in my brain. More awake and alert, I was ready to find the woman haunting me day and night.

I threw on a clean pair of boxers and tugged on a T-shirt. Hatter would probably lose his shit if he saw me leave my room like this. I had a feeling he and Jo were still asleep. I was counting on it. If not, I’d get my ass handed to me.

The floor was cold as hell under my bare feet. I stalked toward the door, yanking it open with a force that made the hinges protest. Now that I’d decided what I would do, there was no point waiting.

Eliza was under my skin, a fever I couldn’t sweat out.

I stepped into the hallway, the dim light throwing shadows across the walls. They were like ghosts, whispering her name, echoing the throb in my veins. The clubhouse was quiet, most of the brothers still knocked out or passed out, resting up for whatever chaos we were diving into next.

But there was no rest for the wicked, and right now a devil was sitting on my shoulder, whispering Eliza’s name, urging me to snatch her and run.

She was the itch I had to scratch, the storm I had to chase. The tension coiled tighter inside me with each step. Every sound was too loud in my ears -- the soft snoring from one of the rooms, the rustle of sheets as someone turned over in their sleep.

But none of that mattered. It was all background noise. Static.

Where was she? Still in her room? I made my way to the common area, just in case she’d had a sleepless night. If she wanted me anywhere near as much as I wanted her, then she wouldn’t have been able to sleep well.

The common area was dim, with only a few slivers of light cutting through the blinds. And then I saw her. Eliza. She sat on the worn-out couch like she was part of the shadows herself.

Her gaze lifted, catching mine. “Cheshire,” she whispered.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. One step after another, I drew closer to her. Eliza watched me, her breath hitching just enough that I noticed. Good. It meant she was every bit as affected by me as I was by her.

I was close now, could almost feel the heat coming off her skin. I reached out, my hand wrapping around hers. It was a lifeline, pulling her into my world, into the chaos that had been building inside me since the second I laid eyes on her.

I helped her off the couch without a word and started leading her to my room. I could tell she was trying to keep up, her slight frame swaying slightly.

The hallway stretched out, seeming endless. Anticipation coiled tight in my gut with each step. It was a hunger, gnawing at me, desperate to be sated.

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