Page 94 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

“Of course you fuckin’ can. Only this time, do me a favour. Don’t sit on my lap.”

Her colour fades. “Did I hurt you?”

Barking a laugh, I tell her the truth. “Nah, but I nearly fuckin’ came in my pants just like a schoolboy. Here.” I motion her to sit back on the couch and move my wheelchair closer. Then I pull her between my legs.

When our mouths meet, I swear I’m tasting a slice of heaven. This time I’m emboldened and take charge of things, sweeping my tongue into her mouth. After only a second’s hesitation, she’s following mine when I retreat.

I wrap my hand in her glorious soft hair, angling her head so I can get it just right. She moans softly, showing she’s into this as much as I am. With my free hand, I trace her cheek, then her jaw. Her skin’s soft, flawless.

Our kiss is gentle, with a wealth of emotion from both sides. It’s not a prelude to getting off, but the main event.

Saffie is fucking perfect. Her taste is intoxicating. While our caress is having a predictable effect on my cock, I ignore it, knowing I need nothing more than this and could go on just kissing her for hours.

I probably would have done, or at least for a few more minutes, were it not for the clearing of a throat behind us.

Reluctantly, I pull back, turning to see who dared interrupt. It’s Bolt.

He’s standing, grinning widely. “The clinic called. Your prosthesis is ready.”

“Yeah?” My face splits into a grin much broader than his.

As I’m calculating whether I can call on him again to drive us there and how soon, he gets in first, “Preacher said he’d fly us there if you want.”

I fucking want. Oh, how I fucking want. To have a leg back again? I can’t think of anything better, even if I’ll still have to use crutches.

In almost less time than it took to drive the route one way, I’m at the clinic, and have had my fitting and am now equipped with a prosthetic leg, much like the one ruined in the Crazy Wolves’ clubhouse.

As it was only a short trip there and back, Saffie had stayed behind. She’s the first to stand and greet me as I ‘walk’ into the clubhouse, taking care to balance myself on the prosthesis and crutches while keeping my injured leg off the ground.

Applause and cheers sound as I enter under my own steam, but I don’t get long to enjoy my new vertical status, as Snatcher appears and calls out, “Church! Now!”

I take it that includes me, so tossing an apologetic look toward Saffie, I follow the men heading that way, noticing the three old-timers have stayed in their seats. Exchanging a chin lift with Grinch, I know he’ll keep Saffie company.

It’s great to be able to sit on a chair, though it takes a bit of manoeuvring and a helping arm from Road. I’m used to using crutches, but that’s with a flesh and blood leg. Couple that with getting used to a new prosthesis and I’m like an ungainly newborn foal.

When I’m seated, I notice the serious faces of the men sitting opposite me.

Snatcher bangs the gavel, then hands over to them. “Honor, Duty?”

Honor kicks it off. “Niran, we’ve got some information about your sister. Would have told you privately, but Snatcher wanted it brought to the table so we can decide what to do.”

Cyn? My eyes crease. What the fuck has she done now?

“Token’s been monitoring her communications. She’s in contact with Susie.”

“The fuck?”

“Yeah,” Duty takes over. “I can show you the transcripts, but basically Susie’s trying to see whether you survived, and if so, to track you down.”

“And Cyn’s helping her?” My eyes go wide.

“We don’t think so, Brother,” Stormy puts in quickly. “Susie’s playing her. Came up with a cock-and-bull story about why she hasn’t been around. Cyn was a bit cagey, but confirmed you weren’t in San Diego, but were with one of the other chapters.”

Fuck.That’s bad enough. “Susie knows I’m alive.” I quickly shake off my despondency. “There’s no way she can be in contact with Duke. She knows what he’s like. She wouldn’t go near him.”

Duty opens a folder and shoots something across the table at me. From this way up it’s only a piece of blank paper, so I pick it up and turn it over.

“Oh hell,” I utter with feeling.

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