Page 39 of Flyboy's Nightingale
“Yes, I plan on being at the office tomorrow.”
“I’m doing good, I swear.”
“No, I spent the day at the clubhouse with the girls.”
“What? No! Okay, there is a small chance that he was involved too.”
“She’s currently in my bed if that’s what you’re wanting to know!” I shout, feeling content and playful for the first time since the day I was taken out by the person driving recklessly.
Riley’s shocked face turns to me before she smacks me on the chest.
I watch her face turn bright red before she drops it onto my chest. “I promise I’ll tell you absolutely everything when I get into the office tomorrow.”
“Yes. Yes! Fine! You win, I’m paying,” she huffs in fake outrage before disconnecting.
“Let me guess, that was Avery. Wasn’t it?” I question, rubbing my hand over the top of her head.
“That it was. She was worried because she hadn’t heard from me since I left for lunch yesterday. We usually talk all the time, and with everything going on…” Riley stops talking and starts rubbing her hand across my bare chest and stomach.
“How long have they been in town and following you?” I inquire, trying to connect some of the missing pieces that have been plaguing me.
“To be honest, I’m not really sure. I was afraid that they would have been here sooner. A friend of my dad’s club showed up in the E.R. a few months before Avery took over the clinic where you’re doing your physical therapy. I only realized they were actually here when I found a picture of me milling around town taped to my door. I should’ve run then, but to be honest, I’m happy here.” She whispers the ending almost as if saying it out loud will ruin it.
“Call it selfish, but I’m beyond happy that you didn’t. So, why did you bring the information to the Ol’ ladies when you did? You’ve been fighting this on your own so long.” My tone comes off harsher than I meant for it to, and I feel her stiffen slightly.
Riley sits up, looking at me with pure concern. “I swear, Flyboy, I wasn’t trying to pull them or the club into my shit. I was just scared and knew they would be able to give me some advice.”
“Hey, hey. Shhh.” I sit up cupping her face in both my hands. “I know I sounded harsh just now. I’m sorry! It’s not you bringing this to the club that upsets me, it's the thought of you going through all of this in the first place that makes me want to subtract numbers from the population.”
Riley brings her hand up and smacks me on the chest without thought. I grab her hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing it.
“And why did you decide to assault me?” I growl, watching her closely.
I keep my eyes on her face as her emotions play out, starting with anxiety, moving to fear, and the most shocking is when a smile breaks out across her face.
“That was because you, sir, are a jackass and deserve so much more!” she sasses, with a mock glare.
I lean forward, so close that you wouldn’t be able to slide a piece of paper between the two of us. “It appears that orgasms are exactly what the doctor ordered to bring out your sass.”
“Oh, you think that’s what this is about?” Riley licks her lips slowly.
Unable to hold the monster back anymore, I kiss her like a man starved. Nipping and licking her lips, demanding entrance into her mouth. When Riley finally gives in to me, I fist the back of her hair, pulling her over so that we’re chest to chest. I run my right hand down her side, gliding it over her hip and grabbing a handful of her ass, preparing to pull her across my lap. That way, the fantasies from last night can become a reality when my phone starts vibrating on the nightstand beside me.
Pulling back from the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, I glare at the piece of shit. “I’ve got to answer that.”
She smiles at me sweetly as she turns to grab the phone for me. I take it from her hand, seeing it’s indeed, Pretty Boy calling me.
“Hey, brother. What’s going on?” I mumble, watching the goddess in my bed stretch her arms high above her head.
“Fuck me. Are you two ever going to be fucking ready to go get her shit?” Pretty Boy snaps. “If not, I’ve got shit to fucking do that ain’t fucking here.”
I growl low at his words. “We’re up and about to get ready. If you’ve got something else to fucking do, don’t let us fucking stop you. If you’re going with us, you might want to drop the fucking attitude.”
“If you two wouldn’t mind getting a move on it, that would be great. I have other things I need to do,” Pretty Boy says, his tone now smooth as he pretends to be a proper gentleman.
Chuckling, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fuck you, asshole. You go take care of your shit. Smith, Wesson, Razor, Torch, and Coin are going to come with us. That should be plenty of men helping, especially since the girls are also tagging along.”
“Thank fucking Christ! I’ll see you assholes later,” Pretty Boy calls out as he hangs up.
