Page 141 of Beautifully Wounded

As embarrassed as I am, I nod, not wanting him to feel ashamed just because I do.

Well, I kind of do.

Shit. I don’t even know.

“Maybe one day you’ll let me shoot my load a little closer.” He smirks even wider, and I know he’s trying to make me smile. Trying to turn my mood around.

I want to hug him for that.

“Why do you want to do that?” I ask him bravely, and this time his teeth make an appearance as he smiles wider.

“I’d fucking love to see my cream glistening your skin, Angel.”

Oh.

He shifts closer and presses his nose to mine, our breaths mingling under the sheet.

“I’d love to see it oozing from your pussy one day. Hopefully,” he admits, and oh wow.

Heat flushes my entire body, and damn it, but horndog Abbey is back.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this. Flushed. Glowing.” His thumb moves to my lips, gently gliding over the bottom one. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

He waits for the first bob of my head and I see the long stubble framing his lips kick up before he leans in and presses his lips to mine.

31

Ican still feel Abbey on my lips as I take my seat at the table for tonight’s church session. I can’t remember the last time I kissed someone so thoroughly. Maybe when I was a teenager. Even Kylie and I never kissed quite like that.

Soft.

Gentle.

Savouring.

Something has shifted in me, and I can’t fucking figure out what it is exactly, or why the fuck it’s happening, and to be fucking honest, I don’t want to overanalyse it.

Because the fact of the matter is, I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow or the next day, or next fucking week, when it comes to my little charity case. This was only ever meant to be temporary, and there’s a whole world of fucking trouble chasing her tail that could change everything in the blink of an eye.

“Our combined investigations with the Marx crew have turned up the same result for the warehouse raid, although, to what end hasn’t been figured out yet.” Smitty addresses his club from the head of the table where ten of us sit, and the others lean against the wall around the table listening quietly.

“The only conclusion is that the pigs orchestrated the raid to get us out of the way so they could come in and find the girl.”

At Smitty’s words, all eyes fall to me.

I don’t move, keeping my expression neutral, remaining relaxed back in my chair even though I want to rant and rave that the pigs need to die.

“But medical equipment was stolen.” JD pipes up, his frown directed at our President. “Surgical equipment, to be exact. I fail to see why the pigs would go to the trouble of actually stealing the equipment and killing our men just to step foot inside the compound while the women were vulnerable.”

“I have to agree with JD,” Mex states, while some of the other men nod in agreement.

I want to nod too, but because I have a conflict of interest, I remain quiet. Still. Observing. Yet wanting to beat my chest and demand we burn the city to the ground to find answers.

“Well, we don’t have any other theories, and neither does the Marx crew.” Smitty lights up yet another fucking cigarette. The second since church started.

“What about the missing prospects? Any word on them?” Spud, our VP, asks, and Smitty shakes his head.

“They are either dead or in hiding. Their families haven’t seen them.”

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