Page 20 of Royally Twisted

Chapter Seven

Ivy loved the slightscratch from his beard as he rubbed his cheek against hers, after giving her a kiss that nearly stole her breath. Her body still tingled from his possession, but god, she was ready for round two.

She drove behind him as butterflies danced in her stomach. The slow pace this time was different than the one up to the clubhouse. A shiver wracked her as she thought of all the ways the meeting could’ve gone sideways. Her lips trembled at the image of Rooster holding a knife to his throat. “Never again,” she promised the night. The club had been her life before. Now, her life was going to be whatever she made it. She just hoped Tymber wanted to be a part of her life after what he went through. “I’ll convince him some way.”

A bright star above flared, drawing her attention. She smiled at the sight of a shooting star crossing above her. She kept her eyes open and on the taillight of Tymber’s Harley as she made a wish. Looking back up, the streaking star was gone. “I loved you, Luke,” she said in a low tone, letting the night take her words away through the open top of the Bronco. And she had loved Luke just as he’d loved her. If either of them could’ve changed him, she was sure they’d have done it. Life wasn’t all sunshine and roses, She knew that from her time living with her mother and her stepdad. Yeah, she’d had it bad, but some had it worse. With Tymber, she wanted a fresh start, yet she didn’t want to forget her past. Every mark, every memory, is what made her who she was today, warts and all.

As promised, Tymber slowed his bike, turning onto a drive that was nearly as hidden as the Royal Sons clubhouse. Her breath caught in her throat at the view in front of her. His home looked like an old farmhouse, combined with an industrial structure. The concrete part wasn’t as cold stacked against the barn like structure. Lights lit up the front in a rainbow of colors.

Pulling up next to him, she twisted the key, letting silence greet her. “This is beautiful.” Beautiful and expensive.

“This is or rather was my grandparents’ place. I was left it when they both passed away.” He stood just outside her door, waiting for her to make a move.

Oh, she was aware he wanted her like she wanted him, but he was letting her make the choice. Stay or go. Her door creaked as she shoved it open. “Do I get a tour?”

His chuckle made all her girly parts stand up and sing. “You really want a tour?”

Ivy hopped down, shaking her head. “Later,” she said.

Her words triggeredhis need, making him eliminate the space between them. “Grab whatcha need, baby. This is going to be a long night.”

“Shit, my purse and everything is back at the clubhouse.”

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it’s about you and me.” At her nod, he leaned his shoulder into her stomach, lifting her onto him. “Woman, I hope you know I plan to stamp my claim on every delectable inch of you. If you aren’t on board with that, tell me no.”

Ivy laughed, her hands going into his back pockets, giving a squeeze to each firm cheek. “Oh no, your wallet’s gone.”

Tymber slapped her ass, then pulled the wallet out of the front pocket of his jeans, a chain connected to the end kept him from misplacing the thing. He punched in the code to his front door, opening it once the locks disengaged. He moved forward, the alarm blinking red told him nobody had been there since he’d left. With a quick motion, he put the numbers into the keypad, waiting until the box blinked green. Once he made sure the door was locked, he set the alarm again. He didn’t want to be disturbed by unwanted visitors. Small lights illuminated the hallways, allowing him to see his way to his bedroom. Ivy’s silence almost unnerved him.

“You still with me?” he asked.

“You can’t get rid of me. I’m like a tick on a hound dogs back,” she joked.

At the side of his bed, he laughed. “I’ll show you hound dog,” he warned, tossing her down onto the huge California King bed. “There’s something I want to show you, something I should’ve explained before.”

Ivy scrambled up, sitting on her knees facing him. “Whatever it is, just say it. Surely, it’s worse in your mind than reality?”

Tymber touched the lamp next to the bed, the soft glow giving light to the darkened room. “I should’ve opened the curtains.” He motioned toward the bank of windows across from the bed.

“Quit stalling and tell me. I’m assuming the light is so you can see my reactions?” Ivy bit down on her lip.

“I always was better at showing than telling,” he muttered. His eyes locked on hers. He grabbed the bottom of the T-shirt, pulling it over his head, the material held in front of him. “I, fuck. I had cancer. Breast. I mean I had breast cancer. I had a partial mastectomy followed by a round of chemo.”

Ivy’s hand covered her mouth, horror lit her green stare. “Are you, okay?”

He tossed the black T-shirt onto the hamper. “Yeah, I’m at the five year mark.” He explained what that meant.

“Your tattoo, did you get it to cover the scars?” She shuffled closer to the edge of the bed.

Tymber turned away, not wanting to see pity on her face. “I already had a tattoo that covered my chest. Once I knew I was going to live, I decided to have plastic surgery to fix the outer package. The meetings helped with the inner package.”

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