Page 54 of Run Little Killer
RHETT
Lennon startles beside me as the jarring metallic clang of metal crashes outside the door, her body jolting upright in bed.
"The fuck?" Nix groans from his position on her opposite side in my bed, swiping a hand down his face.
I throw back the dark grey comforter with an annoyed sigh and push up, swinging my legs over the side of the mattress. My bare feet slap against the tile flooring of our bedroom at the clubhouse, sweats hanging low on my hips as I head to the door, twist the handle, and yank it open.
Two prospects whip their heads up, looking at me like damn deer in headlights as they try to right a toppled-over keg.
"If you shitheads can't even wheel a keg to the kitchen, you think we'd trust you to not lay down your bike and wipe out half the club on a ride?" I growl, glaring daggers at them.
"Sorry Rhett," they murmur almost in unison, still struggling to get the keg on the dolly.
I step out into the hall and grab the rim, lifting andgiving it a quick tug to slide it onto the toe plate of the dolly. "There," I deadpan. "Now get the fuck out of my sight."
They scurry off down the hall as I turn and step back into my room, clicking the door shut behind me and stalking back towards the bed.
Nix has a pillow over his face, one arm slung over it and his other tattooed hand resting on Lennon's bare thigh as she finger-combs her mess of chestnut waves.
Fuck, she's so damn pretty.
Her eyes are half-lidded with sleep as she sits cross-legged in the middle ofmybed, inmyDeviant Devils shirt, withmycum still stuffed in her cunt–mine.
The mattress dips beneath my weight as I sink down beside her, scooting back to lean against the headboard. "C'mere, darlin'," I say, lifting an arm in invitation.
A dreamy little grin plays at her lips as she shuffles closer, body molding into my side. Her palm rests on my chest, finger idly tracing the outlines of one of my tats. I smooth back her hair, hand running down the curve of her spine and back up as she lets out a little hum of contentment and nuzzles closer. It's cute as hell.
After Tess died, I never wanted– let alone expected– for someone to come along and dull the ache of loneliness that’s taken root since. I've spent the years caught somewhere between wanting to move on and not letting anything change, frozen in the deep seated fear that somehow it'd be disrespectful to Tess to let another woman get close, that I didn't deserve these quiet moments of contentment and peace.
I wasn't there when she needed me. If I'd just fucking gone with her, she'd still be here. She'd have stayed tucked safely in the car while I changed the tire. That's why Icouldn't leave Lennon on the side of the road that night– it was like some twisted sense of self absolution. I knew that it wouldn't bring Tess back, but it was a small way to starve off the guilt that’s been eating at me for years.
It was only supposed to be for a night or two, but in the short time we've spent together, something shifted. The thoughts of betrayal and self loathing that usually creep beneath my skin seemed to vanish, replaced by feelings I didn't know I was capable of having again. Now, one look at Lennon, they roar to the surface, raw and real, thrumming in my veins. Slowly bringing me back to life.
Lennon drowns out the part of me that says I don't deserve to love. She calms the storm waging in my chest. And even manages to quiet the chaos in my head that until now, had me convinced I’d fucked up too much to deserve to feel anything real again. Hell, she even manages to make Nix less of a lunatic, which really says something. She's more than just peace, she's mine–ours– and I don't know if I'll be able to let her go.
She sighs contentedly, pulling me from my thoughts as I sweep a few rogue strands of her hair away from her face, revealing the light pink scar etched across her cheek. Tilting her head, she looks up at me, those stunning grey eyes of hers glossed with serenity, and I swear to god my heart falters.
The raised skin is smooth beneath the pad of my thumb as I brush over it, my jaw clenching at the thought of someone hurting her. But the scar doesn’t taint her beauty. If anything, it makes her even more beautiful; even more real.
"Don't," I rasp as she tries to pull away.
Her bottom lip quivers, shoulders curling inwards in an attempt to hide herself, but I don't let her. I shift her in myarms, pressing a gentle kiss to the scar. "There isn't a goddamn inch of you that isn't fucking beautiful," I murmur. Lennon's throat bobs with a hard swallow as I continue. "I don't need to know what happened, but I need you to know nothing like that will ever happen again, darlin'."
I can see her fighting within herself to accept what I've just said, searching my face for any indication that I don't mean every last word. She can look all she wants, but she won't find it, and I'll remind her every day of the truth.
"Can I shower?" she finally asks, voice soft and raw.
"There's fresh towels in the cabinet, help yourself," I say, motioning towards the door.
Lennon nods against my chest, slowly peeling herself back and swinging her leg over me. Her hips sway gently as she heads toward the attached bathroom, the luscious curve of her ass cheeks peeking out from beneath the hem of my shirt.
I reach down and adjust my thickening cock through my sweats as she disappears into the bathroom. Blowing out a slow breath, I lean back, propping myself up against the headboard.
"Where's my morning cuddles?" Nix mocks from beneath the pillow.
Extending my leg, I nudge Nix's. "Get your ass out of my bed, Hawthorne."
He chuckles lowly, lobbing the pillow off his face and kicking back the covers. Pushing up off the bed, he pulls on his jeans and sweatshirt. "I'm gonna grab some coffee, want any?"
