Page 36 of Flyboy's Nightingale
On the fourth slam, Torch walks over wrapping a large arm around her waist, pulling her into him. My whole body tenses, waiting for the hell that’s going to come. Vixen’s assault slows when her back comes in contact with Torch’s chest. He leans over, and whatever he whispers in her ear causes her to blush. Vixen lets the club whore go before turning toward Torch, who picks her up, and carries her from the room. I smile at the love that shines between them. The club whore has blood streaming down her face as she tries to get to her feet.
Razor turns to me with an eyebrow raised, asking, “You good with a brother removing the trash, or do we need to wait until you’re out of the room?”
“I’m good!” I firmly state, not at all feeling okay.
Razor steps aside letting me pass, and I hurriedly make my way toward the hallway that will lead to Flyboy’s room, and ultimately, my escape. When I make it into the hallway, I sigh and lean against the wall. The adrenaline from the day has completely depleted me.
“Woah. You okay? We’re almost there!” Flyboy whispers.
I close my eyes, searching for the right words to use, showing a hint of a smile. “I’m okay, just ready to take a nap.”
“Fucking hell, woman, me too. Let’s get in the room and do just that.” Flyboy moves around me, not as steady on his crutches as he had been earlier in the day.
“Do you have meds in your room to help the pain that you’re in?” I wonder, following close behind him.
“Yeah, I do, and a mini fridge with some drinks in it,” he answers, unlocking the door and holding it open for me.
When I make it through the door, anger washes over me when I take in the fact that the room has been cleaned. Whatgame are they playing at? If this man is going to claim me, then why would he have someone else in here cleaning his room? I turn, leveling him with eyes that I know are filled with fire.
“Why’re you so angry?” he questions looking around.
“Tell me that you didn’t send a club girl in here to clean your room.” I get out smoother than I could’ve imagined.
“Are you kidding me? I might be slow sometimes, but I’m not a damn idiot. Blue and Lil’ Red offered to do it so that you didn’t have to stay in a nasty ass pigsty, as they put it. No woman has been anywhere near this room in over a damn year,” Flyboy defends, going to sit on the recliner in the corner of the room.
All the anger inside of me drains like a balloon being deflated of its air. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me or why I got so angry.”
Flyboy chuckles under his breath. “To be honest, if you didn’t get angry, I’d be worried you didn’t want this.”
I walk over to him, standing between his open legs, and ask, “Are you serious? I’ve drooled over you since the first night you walked into the ER with all that swagger and charisma. I still don’t get why you would want me. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’ve got curves in all the right places, but I also have seen the women you normally go for.”
Flyboy smirks, leaning forward and wrapping his large hands around my thighs, just under my ass cheeks. “Oh, and what kind of woman is that?”
Goosebumps pop up all over my body at having his hands on me. My pussy clenches with need in a way that I’ve never known. Since I’ve left my father’s club, I’ve experimented here and there but have never felt the overwhelming need to have a man's hands on my body. Unconsciously, I shuffle closer to Flyboy, being dragged into the depths by the most magnificent eyes I’ve ever seen.
Flyboy lightly squeezes my legs and licks his lips before speaking, “Tell me exactly what kind of woman my forever woman is!”
“All I’ve ever seen you with are women who are tall, skinny, with tiny waists, and long blonde hair,” I squeak out at the same time I quiver due to Flyboy kissing the center of my chest.
“Oh, my sweet, sweet, Sunshine, what you always saw was me trying to sate the man that couldn’t have what he truly wanted,” Flyboy murmurs, running his hands up over my ass to my hips.
I close my eyes, taking in the feeling of his hands on my body. I squeal in fear and excitement when he shifts me to sit on his uninjured leg. I place my hands on either arm rest in an attempt to lift myself off his lap.
“Don’t you dare move,” Flyboy demands in my ear.
A flash of pure terror slams into me, causing me to go immobile to the point that I start seeing spots from lack of breathing.
“Sunshine, Riley, talk to me. Why are you barely breathing?” he wonders, rubbing my thigh but not adding any additional pressure to keep me from moving.
“You demanded for me to stay. I don’t want to hurt you. I wasn’t trying to not obey,” I gasp, finally taking in some much-needed oxygen.
“Riley, I need you to look at me. Look into my eyes so you can see for yourself that I mean you no harm, and that if you really want to get up, I’ll let you,” he softly coos.
I struggle to turn and look at him, the need to see the door taking hold so deep that I don’t know if I can overcome it. To my complete surprise, I’m able to turn and look at him, seeing exactly what he’s telling me. This man means me no harm and was just trying to be playful and close to me. I crumble into him, taking in his warmth and understanding.
“I hate that I’m this way with you and everyone. I’ve had so much therapy that I thought I would’ve been over my shit by now. I just don’t know what to fucking do anymore.” I cross my arms over my chest, frustrated that some days it seems like I’ve made no progress whatsoever.
Flyboy takes a deep breath, causing me to lift and fall with him. “We all heal from trauma and shit differently. Some people can just put that shit in a box and never go back, some can talk about it and that's how they deal. Hell, I've known people who have put themselves in similar situations just to get over it. You just have to deal with it the best way that works for you.”
