Page 15 of Blood Revealed

I move closer to Blood, whose face looks ravaged by sorrow, to wrap my arms around him. He clings to me like if I let go, he’ll collapse. This woman means a lot to the brothers. I swallow back my tears and smile at Dawna.

She can only move one finger, and she uses it to stroke the side of Duke’s. He clasps hers. “What’cha need?”

“I want Hannah to st-t-tay.” She stutters and has to take a breath. “At the club. Permanently. To take care of you and the other boys.”

“Don’t know—”

He’s about to deny her when she whispers, “Please, lover.” The man squeezes his eyes shut and swallows hard. That must be her pet name for him.

He nods. “Promise.”

She sighs and it’s almost inaudible. Boss, Chaos, Carver, and Sneak file in. They each walk over to the bed and bend down to kiss Dawna’s cheek or forehead. Her eyes drop closed and her chest takes in one last shallow breath. The last exhale is her final exhale. This is the hardest part. I’ve never seen men full of such sorrow for a woman before.

Duke stands at her bedside, his hands resting on his hips, tears rolling down his face, the look of a man who just lost his entire world. I go up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to Blood’s wet cheek, then I walk over to Duke and hug him. When he hugs me back, his arms go so tight, they crush me and he sobs into my shoulder.

I stay there letting him get it out, not saying a word. What can I say that will be of any comfort? Finally, he drops his arms and I step back. Duke clears his throat. “Right. Arrangements to be made.”

“Let me do it,” I find myself offering. “I’ll take care of whatever you need me to.”

“Naw, but thanks, sweetheart,” he says. “I gotta do this for Dawna.” His voice breaks on her name. “Blood, got yerself a good one. Don’t let her go.”

I don’t know what to say because what does a girl say to that? Blood’s had Shelly. He doesn’t want me. I usher the men out of the room so Duke can have a private moment with his wife.

Boss hangs back. “I’m gonna stay. Y’all go on now.”

Given what I learned, that even at his young age, Boss is the VP of the club, it makes sense. The boys walk slower back to the clubhouse. When Blood keeps us moving back to his room, I don’t hesitate or argue. I just go. He needs me.

I lay back on the bed, pulling him down to lay next to me where he immediately rolls to bury his wet face against my chest, gripping my blouse in his fists, and sobs—his whole body racking with them. I hold on tighter than I’ve ever held on to anyone letting him grieve. I press kisses to his hair and forehead as a way to hopefully convey without words that I’m here for him. To speak would be to break the magic of the moment, a moment where he trusts me enough to give me this part of him.

Cheeks still damp, he tips his head up to look at me. No, that’s not right, he looksinsideme, deep inside, and his breath turns sharp. He kisses me. That’s not right, either. Hekissesme, pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss. Every high and low from the moment we met and further back. He gives me a lifetime of life, love and sorrow with his lips pressed to mine.

Where he leads, I follow. My teacher finds that for the first time in my life I’m a very willing student. Forget belly flutters, a hive of activity comes to life inside me—and all of it good,exciting.

His hand sifting through my hair drops to caress the prickled gooseflesh of my neck, then slowly moving lower until reaching the hem of my shirt. His thumb strokes the delicate flesh between the waist of my jeans and my bellybutton while continuing to work me with his mouth. I still his hand and we lock eyes.

His asking,are you sure?

Mine answering,yes.

I release his hand allowing him to push my shirt up my chest and over my head. Only then do his eyes move from mine, drinking in my lacy ecru and black satin bra. He licks his lips before dropping them to the exposed swell of my breast. Suddenly I get the urge to see him without his shirt and he helps me remove the fabric, tossing it to the floor. As spectacular as his chest looks fully clothed, it’s nothing compared to the exquisitely chiseled pecs and abs on full display for me now covered by only a spattering of chest hair and a few well-placed tattoos.

One in particular runs down the left side of his ribs. It’s of the back of a man in a Lords’ cut, gun in hand hanging by his side, walking into what appears to be the fiery pits of Hell. There’s a date underneath it. It’s as sad as it is beautiful. I run my hand over the ink and the muscles of his stomach contract at my touch.

I chuckle. He smiles, dropping another kiss to my lips. As he works my mouth with his tongue, he works us out of the rest of our clothing. Naked—me. Under a man I want to be naked with. I shift my legs to allow him between them.

“Need you,” he finally whispers, and that’s it.

In his bed, on the night a good woman passed away, I give myself to Blood.

He’s everything I hoped he would be. We’re lying still naked in his bed, under his covers. Blood holds me. “I want you, Hannah. I want to claim you with the club.”

“Claim me? Really?”

“Baby. Shit.Old ladyis written all over you. I need you and I want to take care of you. Let me claim you.”

“Well, ok—”

There’s pounding on the door cutting off my reply. “Sorry, brother,” Boss calls to Blood. “Fuck. Just what we don’t need tonight.”

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