Page 56 of Taming Raptor

He covered his face with his hands and breathed deep and slow several times. Finally, he dropped them, looked me in the eye, and nodded.

The next several minutes were a blur until I found myself under his sheet without my clothes. He turned his back to me, and I heard a rustling.

“What are you doing?”

He huffed. “I’m putting on a condom.”

“What? Why?” I was confused.

“Cover your eyes.”

I complied and the bed dipped as his warm skin brushed against mine and I froze.

“Open them.” This time the excitement wasn’t there with those words.

Up on his elbow, he looked down at me, his dark blond hair falling over one eye. “Because you don’t want to get pregnant, Sage.”

My face flamed. My lower lip trembled. I felt so ignorant, I wanted to cry.

“Don’t,” he softly pleaded. He pulsed against my thigh, and I froze. “Jesus, this isn’t going to work, Sage.”

“I’m sorry. I just… I mean, how are you… like that?”

He snorted a humorless laugh. “Sage”—he looked up at the ceiling—“it’s a dick. It doesn’t really take much.”

“Oh.”

“Sage, I’m probably gonna have to get you ready.”

Oh shit. I truly hadn’t thought this through. What the fuck were we doing?

“Can we turn out the lights?”

His sigh was heavy with relief.

And so, my first time was with my best friend. I didn’t love him the way someone should when they did that with them, but in that dark room, I shed the last of my innocence—on my terms.

A week later and we were racing away on his dirt bike with his blood-soaked shirt between us as I held on for my dear, bruised and battered life.

“Bed of Roses”—Bon Jovi

The mysterious package that Venom was sending still hadn’t arrived.

“Do you need another beer, Prez?” Lola asked as she leaned on the bar across from me. With the way she was positioned, her tits pushed up and practically spilled out of her low-cut tank top. She had come with Gator when we reopened and she’d been very clear that she’d love to fuck me, but I simply couldn’t. And that pissed me off because it was confusing as fuck.

Actually, that was a lie and I’d lied to myself enough over the last several months. The reason I’d stayed away from Sage for so many years was because deep inside, where my hawk had lain dormant, was the reason. I’d known if I had one single taste of her, I wouldn’t be able to let her go—that she would own me.

Heart.

And.

Soul.

And I’d walked away from her thinking I was doing what was best for both of us. I was a fucking idiot. Another fuck up to add to my ever growing list.

“Prez, there’s a guy out at the gate with a Bastards cut. Says his name is Blade and wants to see you,” Torque called out from behind the bar where the security monitors were currently placed.

Leaving my beer sitting, I got up and went around to get a better look. Sure as shit, Blade sat on his bike, visor lifted on his modular, flipping off the camera with a shit-eating grin. My gaze narrowed as I noticed the chick on the bike with him with her hands wrapped around his waist. For a second, I wondered. Hoped. Until I saw the dark strands that escaped her braid, blowing in the breeze. Relief and disappointment warred within me, and I wanted to hit something.

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