Page 60 of StoryTeller's Tale

Ignoring where we are, that passengers are filing past, I strike fast. Closing the distance between us, I curl my hand around her neck and pull her in tight. I swallow her gasp as I firmly place my lips over hers. As she tenses, I graze my teeth against her mouth until she opens and lets me inside.

Fuck, her taste.Just like it happened to me the first time, my dick starts to stir.

I’m not a fan of kissing, but it seems that I am with her. I can’t get enough. Her tongue tangles with mine, twisting, sliding together, and fuck me, those sounds coming out of her mouth. She’s pushing herself into me as though she can’t get close enough.

I swear I feel electricity spark between us.

When my need for air becomes too great, I pull away, cradle her face in both hands, and stare into her eyes. She moans, cups her hand around my head and pulls me down for another taste.

Once again, I’m swept away.

There’s chemistry between us, there’s no denying that. Maybe our bodies speak volumes more than anything that comes out of our mouths.

This time it’s she who pulls away for air. As we part, our eyes meet.

“Fuck, babe. You do things to me. Take a chance. Come with me.”

“I’m pregnant,” she reminds me.

“I know. Whether you want the baby or not, give me a chance, Sheri. Come back with me.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

SHERI

The last half hour has had my brain spinning, well, the whole morning come to that. Ever since seeing those two lines appear on the test, to stupidly going to my dad, only to basically get thrown out of my childhood home.

Then for StoryTeller to turn up like a knight on a white horse, already knowing the problem reconnecting with me would cause. If he’d walked away, I wouldn’t have blamed him. But he didn’t. He came looking for me even with the knowledge of what that might entail.

At first, I was suspicious that he, too, would pressure me to have an abortion, but he seems pretty adamant whatever course of action I take would be up to me. Then, there was that out-of-the-blue offer to go to Arizona with him. When words didn’t persuade me, he’d tried with a kiss.

We’d met again as two awkward strangers, when he pulled me into his arms my body recognised him as a kindred spirit, a lifelong partner or friend. There’s no denying there’s a connection there, though it could be on the most basic of levels.

He’s a biker. He belongs to a notorious motorcycle club, and I’ve no idea what kind of home he could offer to me. But what have I got to stay here for? A housemate who only tolerates me as I help her make rent, and a parent who’s shown his comfortable life and happiness are far more important than mine.

It should be the stupidest idea in the world to go off with someone I really don’t know, but I’m carrying his baby. And while I wouldn’t have chased him down to tell him he’s a potential father, now he’s turned up, I can’t block him out of any decision I make.

He’s studying me, his hand reaching out, touching my hair, pushing a wayward strand away from my eye. His touch so gentle, I want to lean into him. His stance so strong, it makes me want to give him all my problems and have him deal with them.

In many ways it’s an attractive proposition, getting out of town for a while, getting some space in which to make my life-changing decision. I doubt he’s offering me anything permanent, just the time to get my head sorted out.

But he’s a biker.I shudder as the image of the Dominators come into my mind. What if the rest of the Wretched Soulz are more like Knuckles than StoryTeller? How do I know they don’t mind sharing women around?

People are passing around us while we’re sat in our own bubble, all oblivious to the problems I’m wrestling with. How I wish I was one of them, just getting on with ordinary life.

He gives me time, not pressuring me. Stealing a sideways glance, I remember that StoryTeller came to Texas to find me. Can I read into that he’d missed me as much as I missed him?

I need more time before making such a momentous decision. “You offered me dinner,” I start, not quite meeting his eyes. “And suggested we find somewhere to stay for the night.”

“I did,” he confirms, with a spark of interest.

“Can we start there?” My voice now contains eagerness. “We never really had the chance to get to know each other before.”

An easy grin comes to his face. “Sure, you’re the local. Anywhere particular you recommend or want to go?”

I shake my head. At the moment, any decision seems beyond me.

He holds out his hand, giving me the choice whether to take it or not. I do, immediately comforted by the feeling of his warm fingers surrounding mine. It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt that anyone was on my side.

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