Page 9 of Pickle

“Don’t worry,boys. I won’t make a habit of it,” she parries, finally looking around at the carnage. “But I figured I’d offer to lend a hand.”

“This one’s a keeper.”Malik quips. Rurik cuffs him at the back of his head, muttering something soft enough none of us can hear, but it has Malik’s ears turning bright red.

“Planning on it,”I say.

Thyrie crossesto the shelves of industrial cleaning agents and grabs what she needs to join in the cleanup without comment. It strikes me again how different she is than any woman I’ve ever known.

It’s morethan just her confidence. Thyrie Brandon has competence and an inner core of strength that makes her a perfect match for me. I don’t think there’s anything I do that she can’t readily throw in with and pull just as much weight as I do. That kind of partnership is one I never expected, much less that I’d be lucky enough to find it.

Thyrie matches me,strength for strength, complementing my skills with her own, much like Malik and Rurik match each other. More than heating my blood, the realization she’s absolutely made for me lights my soul on fire.

“You’re staring,”she teases.

“I am,”I say. “Not sorry.”

“We’ll finish up down here,”Malik offers. “Why don’t you take Thyrie upstairs and get cleaned up? Leave your clothes in the burn bin, and we’ll see to them, too.”

“Thanks, man.”I don’t need to be told twice. I trust my brothers will ensure no evidence is left behind, and I’m ready to get Thyrie alone, so I can show her what it’ll be like to be claimed by the president of the Lexan Ghost Born MC. I also don’t want her taking off the bloody clothes she’s wearing then showering with the rest of the guys when everything’s done down here. Dipping out early just makes sense.

“Come on,Spitfire. I believe we’ve got some rudely interrupted business to get back to.”

CHAPTER TEN

Thyrie

We’re taking a risk by traipsing through the clubhouse to Hyram’s suite without cleaning off all the evidence covering us. Logic wrestles with the lizard brain, demanding I get this man horizontal so I can ride him immediately. I have zero regard for the worries future me may have about being accessory to murder. I just need the bliss of his body under mine.

“Shower fast.Together. We can make sure to get clean fast that way,” he gruffs the instant he has the bathroom door shut behind us. I tear my shirt over my head and toss it into a brown bag Hyram grabbed from the clean-up room downstairs before shucking my pants and socks. Everything goes into the same bag, and I look over to watch Hyram disrobing just as quickly.

He hustlesme under the shower spray the second all our clothes are sealed in the brown paper bag. There’s a moment, just as the water begins to rinse away the sticky drying blood from his hair and skin, that I wonder at the depravity of beingthis turned on while covered in a man’s death. Shouldn’t I feel some sort of moral castigation? Mitchell Vance’s death is no tragedy, but does my disregard for his life mean am I just as bad?

“Are you scared of me now?”Hyram asks softly.

I lookinto his eyes and see a vulnerability there I’m not used to.

“No,”I answer simply. Hyram’s never given me reason to fear him. After watching him with his sister and niece for all these days, it’s obvious everything he does is for his family and his club. And maybe, it’s selfish of me to care more about the way he loves than the way he kills, but so be it.

“Would you rather shower alone?”It’s a bit late for that question, but it’s sweet of him to notice my hesitation and care enough to check in with me.

“No. Stay with me,”I plead. Whatever existential bullshit is going on in my brain, I know it’ll be worse if he leaves. Besides, the internal strife hasn’t done anything to cool my lust.

“Good. Tilt your head back.”Hyram guides the handheld showerhead to get my hair wet, then hangs it back up and dumps what has to be half the bottle of shampoo over my head. I giggle as he has to alternate between scrubbing and rinsing over and over again.

“Probably overdid that,”he admits. It’s charming and endearing and, it turns out, the perfect bridge from the earlier violence to the desire building between us again. His cock’s been digging into my hip since the second we got into the shower, so I know he’s not having the same moral questionings I am.

The wayhe’s giving me space to work through my hangups without rushing or abandoning me is another surprise. Everything about the man’s appearance, from his sleek Harley Davidson to his inked and pierced skin, screams bad boy, yet he’s anything but when it comes to me.

“It’s okay.At least, it’s a two-in-one product,” I laugh.

“Are you laughing at me, Spitfire?”he teases. He wrings the water from my hair and pushes it away from my face, before grabbing the bar soap from the hanging shower caddy.

“This okay for your skin, too?”

“Sure, for now, at least.”I’ll use my fancy soap later. Right now is about getting clean, so we get dirty. The good kind of dirty.

Once he’s done washingmy face and body, with an almost manic attention to detail and more clinical care than romance, I take my turn doing the same for him. It’s impossible not to trace the lines of his muscles or enjoy the mouthwatering buffet of his body, but I do my best. If a couple kisses and licks are exchanged between us along the way to getting clean, who can blame us?

Hyram grabsevery towel from the cabinet below the sink and wraps us both up before leading me back into his bedroom and laying me down on his enormous bed. Water droplets from our wet hair and skin soak the comforter, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.

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