Page 3 of Craving Francesca

He’d already pulled his boxers back up, but the rest of his body was still on display. I wasn’t sure where to look first. His thighs were a work of art. His torso layered with muscle and covered in too many tattoos to count. The hair I’d tangled in my fingers was hanging around his face as he bent over.

I gulped, then started in surprise when he tossed my bra and tank top on the bed.

My stomach sank as I snatched them up and awkwardly, and as fast as humanly possible, pulled them on. Kneeling, I pressed my thighs together tightly as he dropped my underwear and shorts in front of me.

Fuck, I had no idea what to say. I felt raw and embarrassed for some reason. We’d both known what it was when he’d led me to his room. It wasn’t as if I was looking for some kind of happily-ever-after. We were attracted to each other, and we’d scratched a very satisfying itch. That was all it was.

Scooting off the side of the bed, I quickly stepped into my underwear and shorts, pulling them up my hips in one movement. The cement floor was freezing against my bare feet. My hands were clumsy as I buttoned up the shorts, missing one but choosing to ignore it as I slid my sandals back on.

“You want me to walk you out?” he asked casually as he walked to the window and pushed it open.

“Uh, no,” I replied quickly. I hadn’t been so uncomfortable since I was twelve. I just wanted to get out of there. I forced myself not to hurry as I straightened my shoulders and strode to the door. “See you later.”

“Hey, Francesca,” he called, making me pause. I glanced at him over my shoulder. He’d lit up a cigarette and was bracing his elbow on the window, letting the smoke drift outside. “I had a good time.”

It felt like a blow, but I wasn’t sure why.

“It was all right,” I replied with a shrug. “See you around, Gray.”

I left the room with my dignity intact, but the moment I’d closed the door behind me, a lump tightened my throat. I’d been dismissed.

Myla and I were staying in a tent out back while her dad’s motorcycle club had a big party, and I headed out the back door in search of it. Curling up in my sleeping bag in the dark sounded like an excellent idea. I didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone until I had gotten my head right. What the hell was wrong with me?

Sure, he’d been abrupt there at the end, but it wasn’t as if he’d been an asshole. We’d been done. Maybe he’d thought he was being considerate by rounding up my clothes for me. It wasn’t as if he’d told me to get the fuck out—even though the implication had been clear. I was probably overthinking the whole thing.

It wasn’t like me. I didn’t get hung up on the small stuff.

I waved at the members who were seated in lawn chairs keeping an eye on things and shuffled over to our tent, ignoring the sounds coming from the others. Gray and I hadn’t been the only ones to find a little privacy.

Clearing any expression from my face, I bent over and pushed inside the tent, fully expecting Myla to ask me what was wrong—but she wasn’t there. What the fuck?

I looked around. Her shoes weren’t there. Her sleeping bag hadn’t been slept in. Nothing had moved since I’d been in the tent earlier, exchanging my boots for a pair of sandals. Myla had left the clubhouse hours earlier to come to bed. Where the fuck was she?

It had been a mistake to leave my phone in the tent earlier, because it took me forever to find the damn thing in the dark. I tore through my bag blindly, finally wrapping my fingers around it once all the contents had been flung onto the plastic floor.

Where are you?

I watched the screen, waiting for a response.

Hello?

Just got back to the tent and you’re not here.

Myla

Myla

Myla

It was late, and maybe she was asleep somewhere, but she wassupposedto be asleep in our tent. That’s where she’d said she was going when she left the party. She wouldn’t have just left without saying something. We didn’t do that shit. If she’d decided to sleep somewhere else, she would’ve let me know. I should’ve at least had a text waiting for me when I got back to our stuff.

Dropping to my ass, I sat on my sleeping bag and waited. We were at the club, a place where we’d always been reasonably safe. There was no need to panic. Even so, worry churned in my stomach. I stared at the phone, my knee bouncing.

Ten minutes later, I climbed back out of the tent and went looking for the Aces who were keeping an eye on things.

“Have you guys seen Myla?” I called quietly.

Their shaking heads were barely visible.

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