Glory (31 page)

Her mascara ran down her face, giving her that undone look that I found undeniably sexy.
Holy—
My hand shot out to the tiled walls to steady myself, rushing to the end too quickly. Indy wrung out the orgasm, swallowing everything I gave her until I felt wobbly on my own legs. “Holy shit.”

“I should’ve warned you that my blowjobs would take you to heaven,” she teased.

“Kinda glad I found out myself, to be honest.” I would never get enough of making her smile. Indy made me feel like the hero I wasn’t. I’d always been the villain. The kind of guy who had had women in the past, sometimes in pairs, and ignored them like strangers the next morning. I took pleasure in dishing out pain, even killing for the club in necessary circumstances. And I sure as hell wasn’t clean of drugs, having sampled enough to be knowledgeable on it, but not enough to be addicted.

But when I was in the presence of Indy, that changed. Suddenly I protected her. It was all about putting happiness in her eyes, not fear. It was about intimacy over intimidation. I found myself wanting to be close to her, wanting to gain her trust, even though I wasn’t a man who deserved it.

“Come on,” I said through the chasm of emotion in my chest. As we got out of the shower, Indy wrapped a towel around her head and slumped into the bed. I followed, not caring about the puddles I was making.

“I think I could sleep for a week,” she mumbled.

“We got ’til morning.”

“That’ll do,” she said as she relaxed further into the bed. Her skin looked incredibly tanned against the white sheets, her body looking good enough to eat. I decided I liked her there.
A lot.
I could spend my entire life servicing a warrior woman like that.

But if Indy wanted to spend the night here to sleep, we’d need to cover her body up or I’d never take my eyes off her enough to fall asleep. I dug around for a clean T-shirt to let her wear but when I returned, Indy was already fast asleep, snoring softly against my pillow.

Indy

I woke to the sensual slips of Hastie’s fingertips on my breasts. He turned me over before I was fully awake, his mouth latching onto the velvet peaks that grew harder as he suckled on them. “Wake up, beautiful,” he murmured.

Oh, I was definitely awake now. Who could sleep through
that?
My back arched as his hands joined the exploration, tweaking my nipples between his fingers. As Hastie moved his head from one breast to the other, I dug my fingers through his hair, reveling in the soft rasp of his stubble against delicate skin.

Then, Hastie moved down, lower and lower until he was between my thighs. His tongue shot out to lick my slit and I groaned.
“Hastie.”

“Your skin is so smooth,” he said, running his hands along my stomach and inner thighs. Frozen in place and unable to breathe, I prayed for some self-control as Hastie and his magical mouth worked me.

But Hastie wasn’t a gentleman about it. He pushed my thighs apart, pinning them to the side while his mouth found my core. As I arched into him, he yanked the rests of the sheets off us. “I’m going to love you, Indy. Even when you beg me to stop.”

The sound of those words leaving his lips in a hoarse moan started a violent shaking within me, one that destroyed all thought. I clutched at the sheets around me, holding on for dear life as my limbs shook. Hastie surged up, settling between my thighs before pushing his way in.

I screamed, rocked by the climax that hit me as soon as he filled me. Teeth gritted, Hastie pounded into me, spurring me into another shattering orgasm that seemed endless. Nails biting into skin, I forced my muscles to unclench as pleasure ripped through me. All this time, Hastie still moved within me, his eyes gone heavy-lidded with lust, but in them, I could see his focus, his intense desire. “Hastie, let me.” I flipped us over so I could give him the release he needed, but a quick shake of his head told me that he enjoyed me like this, splayed out for his pleasure.

“Beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Broken,” I corrected.

Hastie lifted his hand, fingers brushing against my cheek before he dropped them to my hips again. “Beautiful,” he repeated right as his thrusts increased, hitting me in that spot that had me gasping. There was no more argument from me, not when he was spurring me towards another climax so quickly.

When I broke again, Hastie was there, whispering more words against my heated skin. Wrung out and blissfully happy, I realized that no matter how many times I broke, I could count on Hastie to be there to put me back together.

TWENTY-SIX

Blood and Smoke

Indy

“A
re you really going to tell her?”

I spun around to face Hastie. “What, you thought I was just saying that?”

“I just can’t believe you’re really going to go through with this.”

“I think it’s important that Seven knows, too.” Since telling Hastie about my disorder I found myself resting easy. It hadn’t hit me until recently that keeping my secret from everyone was eating me alive. And if I wanted to continue on the route I was on, it was time to tell the people around me of my disorder. Hastie looked at me weirdly then. “Are you okay?”

“Just proud of you, baby.” I beamed underneath all that praise. Don’t get me wrong, I was still scared as shit. But as any person who had ever had to hide a big secret about themselves knew, being exposed before you were ready became what you feared most. After divulging my soul to Hastie, I never wanted to be afraid anymore.

As we entered the home I shared with Seven, I could practically hear my heart beating in my ears. But I knew I had to go through with this.

I used to believe that if I hid my disorder from people, it’d become less real. I could deal with the symptoms in private where no one would judge me. Working towards wellness was all up to me, but having a support group would help in creating more stability in my chaotic life. They could help me cope with my problems or even change the way I thought of the world. More obviously, it would improve my relationships with people. Telling Seven was the best thing for all of us. I called out her name.

“In here!” she yelled from the kitchen. Pots and pans were strewn everywhere. Egg shells were thrown haphazardly on the countertops, some even reaching the floor. A white substance I figured to be flour covered the entire kitchen in a fine dusting. She smiled when she spotted me.

“What the hell is going on here?” I asked.

“I’m baking! A street vendor had fresh eggs, Indy! Can you believe it? Eggs!”

I grinned, feeling her excitement in the room. Seven loved to cook. She was always experimenting in the kitchen, finding new recipes with what little variety of ingredients we had in the post-flare world. The last time we had eggs was when Hastie and Lucky had stayed the night during the storm. I could only imagine the delectable things we could make if we had access to all kinds of ingredients.

Seven cursed when she opened the fridge. “There’s no buttermilk. How am I going to make red velvet cake without buttermilk?”

I eased into a chair, trying to make myself comfortable. “Why are you making red velvet cake?”

“I’m making a cake for Hanna. You know, a test run for her wedding.”

“You’re going to bake her wedding cake?”

She nodded. “Cool, huh?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had red velvet cake,” Hastie admitted from behind me. Seven and I looked at him like he admitted to being from another planet. His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It just never seemed like my kind of thing.”

“You can have some of mine.”

Hastie’s phone chimed with an incoming text. “Lucky is looking for me,” he explained.

“He’s not welcome,” Seven said as she pulled out an electric mixer from the cupboard. I grinned at her nasty tone. Were they back to hating each other?

No. Never mind. It was time to get back to the reason why I was here. “Hey Seven,” I began before I lost courage. “I have to tell you something. It’s something about me that I’ve been hiding from you.” Why did I suddenly feel like a closeted teen trying to tell my parents that I was gay? But like those who liked the same sex, I didn’t have anything at all to be ashamed of.

“What’s going on?” Seven asked, looking back and forth between us.

“I didn’t want you to think differently of me, which is why I didn’t share this with you before.”

“Oh my God,” Seven cried. “You’re not like a convict on the run or something, are you? Have you killed people, Indy?”

“What? No! No, Seven. That’s not even close.” Where the hell did she get that idea? Even if it were true there were no cops to come after me.

“Then whatever you say next will not change how I feel about you in the least.”

I hoped that was the case. On an exhale, I told her about my disorder explaining everything down to the fact that Hastie knew too. Seven blinked. Then she blinked again. I shot a worried look at Hastie.
Oh God, she was cracking! This would ruin everything between us!

“So . . . you have a mood disorder?” she said slowly.

I nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want you to think I was some psycho chick with raging emotions.”

Seven walked up to me, pulling me in for a big bear hug. “Indy, I already knew that.”

“What?” I pulled away from her. “
How?”
I had kept it from everyone.

“Hey, give your best friend a little more credit here. I’d be a shit friend if I noticed the symptoms all these years and didn’t put the puzzle together. I figured it out myself.” She shot me a smile. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you thinking it was a big deal. I know you have a hard time with it. But it would never make me change my mind on how I felt about you.”

I felt as if my bones were being rattled inside of my body. She knew and she never cared.
Seven knew and she never cared!
It felt like a revelation in some way.

“I’m glad you told me though.” Her arms circled me and I clung to her, grateful to have her as a friend.

My voice wobbled as I tried to overcome my shock. “You really knew all this time?”

“Well, yeah.” Her smile was teasing. “With you acting like a psycho bitch all the time, it wasn’t hard to figure it out. Why do you think I let you drink all the alcohol in the house? What kind of friend would I be then?”

Laughing, I hugged her once more before cutting the Hallmark moment short. This felt more anticlimactic than I was hoping for, but no less relieving. It gave me hope that this disorder wouldn’t rule my life forever, that there were people out there willing to accept me despite it.

My own fear had kept me apart from those I cared about. I had isolated myself, making excuses when I should have believed in my own strength. Everyone was afraid of something, but it shouldn’t ever stop them from finding happiness.

Seven slid back behind the counter to do what she did best. When she called me over, I helped her make the cake batter. Later, Lucky came despite Seven’s refusal to talk to him, resulting in icing being thrown across the kitchen. I smiled, watching as it all happened and being glad for the first time that I had people around me who knew me.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult after all . . .

Hastie

Since the explosions, Neptune’s had stayed closed to the public but would re-open again tonight. As the staff worked like a well-oiled machine to get everything ready, I sat at the bar having a drink, waiting for Indy to arrive for her shift. I hadn’t been home since I last saw her, driving straight to the clubhouse for a church meeting to work out some more Glory biz. The club had made a decision to locate Anthony Cavezza of the Phantoms. Since he’d taken part in the gas station explosion, Glory MC saw him as a threat that had to be taken down swiftly.

Hanna ambled over, fisting two shiny new bottles of whiskey in her hand. She caught me smiling at her. “Just one,” she allowed as she carefully settled them on the bar. I smacked my lips as she poured me a shot.

“How’s the wedding prep going?”

“On hold until . . .” She waved her had in the air a bit. “All this shit passes.”

Understood. Nobody could’ve expected what had happened to the club. “It’ll pass,” I muttered, hoping it was true.

“You coming to my wedding?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Are you going to wear a tux?”

I gave her a crazy look. “Fuck, no.”

Hanna cackled, shrugging her shoulders. “Well, it was worth a shot. I’m just imagining what all you boys would look like all dressed up.”

“Not going to happen, Hanna.”

The back employee entrance opened and a breeze of hot air wafted in. Indy appeared, smiling and wearing her Neptune’s uniform. I twisted so she could drop a kiss on my lips. “Hi,” she said. “Look what I got.”

In her hands was a bouquet of red and white carnations. “Who gave you those?”

“Oh relax, Hastie. I thought you were over your little jealous streak.”

But it wasn’t jealously making me act this way. It was fear. Stone-cold fear. “Who gave you those?” I repeated, more sternly this time.

“A guy outside.” Indy shot Hanna an exasperated look. “Said he was a friend of the club. He wanted to send his condolences.”

I froze. Would they dare bring war to our front door? “Leave through the front,” I growled as I pulled out my pistol. “Both of you.
Now
.”

Indy’s eyes grew wide. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Those are the Phantoms colors. Red for blood and white for smoke.” I eyed the door Indy had just come through, alarm bells blaring. “Something’s up.”

The color left Indy’s face, only to be replaced swiftly by anger. Chin jutting out defiantly, I watched her turn, stomping towards the back exit she came from in fury. “I’m gonna string that motherfucker up by his balls for tricking me like that! I can’t believe he’d come here!”

Jumping up, I scuttled after Indy, catching her around her waist before she got herself into trouble. At the same time, Hanna moved into action, calling for backup. Indy had just made it to the door, slamming it open to yell, “Show your face, cocksucker!” when a hail of bullets made Swiss cheese out of the doors. I tackled her to the ground where we landed hard on the asphalt. Pain radiated up my side where I took the brunt of the impact. “Baby?”