Page 46 of Savage Guardian

She shuddered, her nipples perking up at the memories of all he’d done with his tongue on them, his hands on her breasts, her pussy….

Jackknifing up to a sitting position, she took in the room. Last night, she’d been so caught up in the emotional upheaval of the head in the box…and then Hawk’s kisses and…other things, that she hadn’t taken the time to really see where she was. She knew it was Hawk’s room at the Savage Raiders’ compound, and from the looks of it, he spent a lot of time there.

Clothes were thrown over the only chair in the room. There was a tall, black dresser beside a narrow doorway that lead to the dark interior of a small closet. The plain, masculine dresser matched the all black, boxy headboard, and the black comforter over the gray sheets. The walls were white and empty, and the only window was draped with thick blackout curtains, which were open to peer out over the desert in the distance. The other doorway was wider and looked like it led to an en-suite bathroom.

In that moment, her bladder screamed obscenities at her. Grunting at the frantic urge to pee, she slipped from the bed, nearly busting her ass as she tripped over the sheet in her hurry to the toilet. Once there, she took the time to observe the bathroom as well. White subway tile on the walls and floor, a white pedestal sink, a glass-enclosed shower but no bathtub, and a single towel rack. No fripperies or fancy touches for a Raider’s bathroom. There was a single toothbrush in the white holder near the faucet. On an open shelf beside the single vanity mirror, there was a beard trimmer beside a hairbrush, and a small bottle of beard oil. Through the glass of the shower, she could see three bottles—black—they were probably his shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. She wanted to walk in there and sniff them, because Hawk always smelled like man, leather, and something like sage. Hawk was the aroma of sex, danger, and badassery. If she showered there, would he care if she came out smelling like him?

Finishing her ablutions, she washed her hands using the bar of Irish Spring and checked the room for a linen closet. She would shower, then she’d pull on her big girl panties—the same ones she’d worn the night before because she had no clean clothes to change into—and find out what the hell she was supposed to do next.

Thirty minutes later, dressed in her clothes from last night, she shuffled her way into the large, open common area of the clubhouse. Along one side was a breakfast buffet, and in the middle of the room, three tables were occupied—two with bikers, and one with women. All in all, there were nine people in the room.

Hawk was nowhere to be seen.

He’s either back to work guarding Carrie or he’s avoiding you until the last possible moment.

How he planned to avoid her when he’d plopped her right in the middle of his MC’s clubhouse, she did not know.

At the table with three women, a gorgeous black haired, cat-eyed woman looked up, spotting her. She grinned, her eyes twinkling.

“Come, join us, we don’t bite,” the woman called, waving her over, making the other women, and the bikers, turn to look at her. “Come on,” she encouraged, her smile soft and her expression open and welcoming.

Hungry, anxious, and completely out of her element, Fae walked to where the woman had pulled out a seat beside her and sat down.

“You must be Fae,” the woman said. “I’m Skathi, Odin’s woman, and that’s Tessa and Daisy.” She pointed to the smirking blonde and then the dewey-eyed brunette, respectively.

“Fae? Are you the one Hawk’s been shittin’ himself over?” Tessa asked, her smirk growing into an all-out grin.

“Uh…I don’t know what you mean by shitting himself over, but I am the one he brought here last night. I don’t know where he went or what I’m supposed to do now.”

“He’s having Church with the officers right now, but they shouldn’t be too much longer. Why don’t you get yourself some breakfast, and we can get to know you?”

Fae looked at the woman, confused. Why would she want to get to know her? As far as Fae knew, she was just passing through until Hawk drove her back to the hotel, and then promptly forgot about her again. But the women looking at her now didn’t seem to know that.

“She looks like she wants to hightail it,” Tessa remarked, crossing her arms to lean back in her chair. “Not that I blame her. These men are hard as fuck, and not so good at communicating.”

She could say that again. Fae was confused, frustrated, ashamed, and so damn weary.

“But who needs to communicate when they get hard?” Daisy asked, her dewy-eyes gone heavy lidded.

Skathi snorted, and Tessa grumbled under her breath. “What? There isn’t much talkin’ goin’ on when I get mine,” she said, shrugging. “My mouth is usually full, anyway.”

Uh…what was Fae supposed to say to that?

Tessa rolled her eyes at Daisy. “Daisy here is what one would call a club commodity, since she gets passed around like a joint or a favor.”

Daisy shrugged again, apparently unbothered by Tessa’s explanation.

“I enjoy what I do…andwhoI do. No shame in liking sex.” A cat-ate-the-cock grin spread over her face, a face Fae now noticed was covered in day-old layers of make-up. She probably slept in it overnight.

So, Daisy was a club whore. Likely one of several, since she wasn’t either of the women Fae had seen that first night at the clubhouse.

Which means she’s probably fucked Hawk, too.

In his bed.

The same bed he’d fucked her in.

Then left.

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