Page 35 of Property of Shotgun
“I’ve only been with one man, and he was arguably a boy the first time we had sex. No one else has seen me naked. My body looks a lot different now that I’ve had three kids. I don’t know that I’ll have the courage let alone the confidence to take my clothes off for another man.”
I can tolerate a lot of shit when it comes to Jade, but I won’t listen to her demean herself or shame her body. My control snaps, and the words spill from my mouth before I can stop them.
“Your body was perfect then, and it’s perfect now.”
Shock courses through her features for a brief moment before she lowers her top. “I didn’t think you remembered that night. You never said anything.”
“What the hell was I supposed to say? It wasn’t a big deal.”
That’s a big fat lie. It might not have been a big deal if it was anyone other than her. There is no shame in the Kings Of Anarchy clubhouse. We’ve all walked in one another at some point, but I don’t recall a time when one brother blatantly watched another fuck his wife. It’s unspoken rule—‘ol ladies are off limits.
“It was a big deal to me,” she whispers. Her lashes lower and she looks off to the side, giving me a clear view of her profile. “I liked it.”
“You liked being watched?”
Her teeth sink into her lower lip as she brings her eyes back to me.
“I liked that it wasyou.”
ELEVEN
SHOTGUN
I likethat it was you.
I don’t know what that means. Jade was happy with Irish. She didn’t want me. She didn’t yearn for me like I yearned for her. She’s drunk and confused. Her emotions are all over the place. And even if she wasn’t, she’s just saying that because I’m here. She’s scared to move on. I’m a safe bet. Like she said, we’ve seen each other at our lowest, and we’ve seen each other at our highest. There is a level of comfort between us.
“Forget I said that,” she mutters. “Actually, if you could forget this whole conversation that would be great. I’m getting my period, and I’m a horny mess when that happens. I don’t want things to be weird between us.” She stands, collecting the empty wine bottle. She walks it over to the recycling bin, her shorts still riding up her ass, and a sense of panic washes over me.
I don’t want her to go.
I don’t want to forget anything about this conversation.
She comes back to where I’m sitting, and reaches for the empty wine glass.
“I’ll leave the chips and guac out in case you get hungry.” She turns around, and steps between my legs. The urge to grip her hips and pull her onto my laps tugs at me. Lifting her free hand, she touches the side of my face. It’s such a small gesture, but it packs a powerful punch. “You know, Shotgun, it’s okay for you to move on too.” Her eyes leave mine and she glances at the fire pit before staring back at me, her thumb gently tracing my jaw. “He wouldn’t want you to be any more stuck than I am.” Her hand falls away from my face, and she offers me a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Something inside me snaps and a low, animalistic growl surges past my lips. She goes to step out from between my legs, but I lurch forward, grabbing the backs of her thighs. A soft gasp escapes her as she turns her head back to me, but before she can ask me what the fuck I’m doing, I pull her onto my lap. Her knees fold onto the chair, bracketing my thighs, and she sits back on her haunches, her eyes flickering as they search mine.
I know she’s waiting for me to say something, but everything I want to say to her right now is too fucking dangerous.
She places her hands flat against my chest and slowly inches forward until she’s close enough for me to smell the fruity remnants of wine on her breath. Then she angles her head, and I suck in a breath. Her soft lips touch mine, and everything in me ceases.
I don’t move a muscle.
I don’t kiss her back.
Hell, I don’t even think I breathe.
She blinks up at me, then goes in for another kiss, this one a little more firm. My hands move to their own accord, and I grip her hips, as her lips familiarize themselves with mine.
But I still don’t kiss her back, knowing the second I do—it’s over. I won’t be able to stop myself from exploring every inch of her.
“Kiss me,” she murmurs against my mouth. “Kiss me back, Shotgun.”
A groan sounds from the back of my throat, as my fingers dig into her hips. Her hips rock forward, and she grinds herself against my painfully hard cock. She moans softly, and the sound reverberates through me. She winds her arms around my neck, angling her head as her teeth nip at my lips. “Kiss me.”
I like to think of myself as a strong man. I can handle a lot of shit, and have, but I am no match for this. My hands fly up and I frame her face, pulling away from her only slightly so I can get a good look at her.
