Page 45 of Liberate Us (Next Generation 8)

Me: That can’t happen. Not by me. Not by you. He knows people.

Sammy: So do I, babe. So do I.

I put my phone away before I said something stupid. Like how I would like it if he did that for me. Will was a problem. And he was one I couldn’t figure out how to solve either. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake him off.

“What’s wrong?”

My head snapped up, finding my mother standing with a tray of sandwiches in her arms.

“I was talking to you, but you didn’t respond.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, a deep frown settling between her brows.

I nodded, helping her with setting the rest of the table. Once everything was in order and we began eating, my thoughts traveled back to Sammy. How he had been with me. How different he was compared to Aaron. How different he was to most of the bikers I had met and come across. While he was rough, aggressive, and outright mean at times, there was a piece of him that was made solely for me. It was like he had never shared it with anyone before and knowing that I could reach it, made him feel vulnerable. I wondered if that was why he seemed angry all the time.

Maybe he was scared of what I would find out or that I would get too close. Maybe he was scared that he would fall in love with me. We had both joked about it but the fact that we weren’t sleeping with anyone else, it made me wonder if it could actually happen.

“You like him.” Mom smiled. “God, I miss that. Those butterflies. The pitter-patter of your heart. The sweaty palms.” She sighed. “It’s been a long time since a man made me feel that way.”

“I thought you had a new guy,” I said, realizing that I never denied that I felt those things with Sammy because there was no sense really. My mom knew me. Between her and Shawnee, I wasn’t sure who knew me more.

“Yeah, but he’s just...” She waved it off. “It doesn’t matter. So, I heard Shawnee met an older guy.”

“They’re just friends and he’s married. She’s looking into things for me though. I’m hoping she can help me figure out what Will wants.” I had texted her the other night, asking her to keep it on the down low. I didn’t need word getting out that she was trying to find out information on Will. He wouldn’t think twice about having her killed, so I warned her to keep her safe. I had also learned quickly that with Shawnee, if you wanted something kept a secret, you tell her. She would close that shit up tight until she was told she could reveal said secret. And even then, it wasn’t enough. If she said she wouldn’t tell anyone, she wouldn’t. It was one of the many things I loved about her. Especially when I had told her I was going to divorce Aaron. Even though it was too late and it had never happened, it was nice having a friend by my side when a lot of the time I felt so alone.

My mom and I spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the guy she wasn’t overly interested in but every time she brought up Sammy, I turned the conversation back to her. I didn’t know what was going on between me and Sammy, but I knew that I liked what we were doing. There was nothing wrong with just having sex. It wasn’t like I was ready to settle down and get married again. But if Will had his way, I would end up with him. I grimaced at the thought.

Later that day, my mom had gone out. Only after I insisted that I was fine and didn’t mind being alone. I was about to curl up on the couch with a book when my phone rang.

My eyes widened when I saw who was calling me. And not just calling but video calling.

“Aww, Sam, did you miss my pretty face?” I teased, resting the phone against a throw pillow and curling my feet under me.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Nah but I do miss your pretty pussy.”

I grinned, my cheeks heating. “I have to say that I’m surprised you’re calling me and a video call no less.”

“I’m bored.” His eyes burned into me. “You alone?”

“Yeah, my mom went out.”

“You didn’t want to go with her?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No. Going out means I have to deal with people.” I wondered where he was. Looked like he was leaning against a headboard. “You in bed?”

“I am.” He smirked. “I hate going to the apartment, so I’m not at home.”

“Oh.” My stomach fluttered that I was getting a little more insight into the man I was currently fucking. “Why do you hate the apartment?”

“Too many memories. Morning afters. Awkward moments.”

“Ah, yeah.” I laughed lightly. “I get that.”

“Why, Red, do you have a lot of notches on your bedpost?”

I snorted. “Not as much as you, I’m sure.”

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