Page 84 of Blood Revealed

“Something wrong, baby?” I ask, walking to drop down next to her.

“I know the bruises look nasty,” she says. “But are they really that bad?”

What?“Not sure I’m following.”

“The bruises. Do they make me unappealing?”

“Fuck no—you’re as beautiful as ever.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she asks. “Why haven’t you touched me? Even when we weren’t together officially, we always came togetherthatway, Raif. Now… nothing.” Dammit, she looks about two seconds away from crying.

“You went through all you went through, it had to be you to come to me, baby. Only you can let me know when you’re ready. If it’s tonight—thank Christ because my hand’s getting calloused from jacking off. You and that sexy, throaty voice. You sayhiand I’m ready to bend you over the fucking sofa and take you from behind. But if it’s not for another week, a month, six months—I can wait, Hannah. You’re worth the wait.”

She climbs onto my lap, the insides of her knees pushing against my thighs, then she holds my face, staring deeply into my eyes. Damn, she’s beautiful. The longer she looks, the faster my heart beats and I want to see if hers beats as fast as mine. If I affect her the same way. I lift one of my hands, pressing the palm lightly to the pulse point in her neck. Those bruises are a giant crevasse between us and I can’t tell her because I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I swallow hard. This ismyissue. I’m the one who needs to get over it. That decided, I glide my palm over the worst of the bruising and stop to stroke my thumb over the hinge of her jaw.

Her chest heaves as the seconds pass between us. Tears rim her eyes and she squeezes them shut, dropping her forehead to mine. She brushes her soft lips over my bottom one, then moves up to take the top one separately.

A sob rips from her and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her in close to my body. “It’s okay, baby,” I whisper, pressing kisses to her mouth and cheek and jaw—anywhere she lets me touch her. Her delicate hand fists my shirt and I don’t need a pulse point to feel her heart beating now. I move her legs to lock around my waist and stand, walking us into our bedroom, where I lay her back, my big body covering her smaller one. Andgod, the way we fit.

Now that I’ve broken the seal, I can’t stop touching her. I’m a moth, she’s the flame. I curl my hands to cup the back of her head and lift it to bring our mouths even closer. She grabs my hands, not pulling me away, but bracing them, and she opens her mouth to me, allowing me access. I use my tongue, probing as hers tangles with mine in a seductive dance and she sucks my bottom lip inside.

“Touch me,” she begs, and even if I wanted to, in that throaty voice, I can’t deny her. Cupping one of her breasts, I lift it, kneading it as I swipe across her nipple and she gasps. “More.”

She wants more? I’m happy to oblige. I switch to the other, giving it the same treatment. She runs her hand down the front of my jeans at the fly, pressing in, and I hiss out a sharp breath, losing purchase of that damn delectable mouth. The next thing I know, she has the button undone and the zipper down, her hand inside my pants, freeing me, stroking me. Dammit, that feels good.

As she continues to rub, I somehow gain the presence of mind to lift her shirt up over her head and toss it to the floor. Then I don’t bother to unhook her bra, trailing the straps down her arms, and I flip it down. Bending in, I take her breast again, this time sucking the rosy nipple into my mouth. Her body begins to vibrate beneath me and the harder I suck, the more of a reaction she gives. We both need more. To give her more, I tuck my fingers under the elastic waistband of her shorts, snagging her panties, too, as I drag them down her legs.

I watch my hand leading the fabric down, enraptured when she uses her hand to turn my face back to look at her. “Come home, Raif,” she says, widening her legs and lifting her hips to welcome me inside. I rub my dick up and down her center to make sure she’s good and wet. And when I finally sink inside her, I relive every moment of our lives together, from the first time we met when I saved her from that trucker to that glorious night she gave me her virginity through our wedding night and every moment she touched my soul in between.

I close my eyes, just feeling her surround me, and force myself to breathe. This is Hannah.MyHannah. She presses her hand to my cheek and when I open my eyes she’s smiling up at me, her hair spread like an aura around her body. I press a firm kiss to those luscious, smiling lips, and I finally remember to move. Together, we scale mountains, lifting each other higher and higher. Slow and steady, we ascend until there’s nowhere else to go and we come crashing down, she having reached the summit first, wrapping her legs tighter around my hips, clinging on so she wouldn’t fall alone.

She never has to fall alone.

21.

Blood

Twenty years later…

“Boy, quit your staring,” I say. Gun jumps and spins, sloshing his beer over the side of his red Solo cup, and I laugh. The boy’s the spitting image of his old man. Sandy hair, brown eyes and built like a MAC truck. You wouldn’t think a guy who looks like him would be shy around a woman. Getting pussy runs in his family, and he’s no stranger to the pieces who hang around.

“Jesus, goddamn.” He swipes the amber liquid from his hand, flicking it to the ground. “I wasn’t starin’,” he argues. “Just watchin’.”

“Looks like staring from where I’m standing.” I reach up to fake swipe at his whiskers. “You might want to wipe the drool from your chin.”

“Fuck you, Blood.”

“Nah, thanks for the offer, but I’m happy with my wife,” I tease. “The girl you’re looking at, however, is Sneak’s only daughter.” I point over to Briar Rose. Sneak and Trish’s daughter is all grown up. I love her like a niece, and to me, she’ll always be that little girl who sat on my lap and called me “Unkie Blood.” But I can see why these young bucks might want to go wading in her watering hole. She’s a beauty. Tall and lean, big blue eyes, all that blonde hair—plus, she’s smart and quick as a whip.

She and the terror twins—boy, that’s another story; those girls are going to run Scotch into an early grave—pretty much run the show now that Gun patched in as a full-fledged brother. They come up with most of the trouble. Even my baby girl, Harley, who has my strawberry blonde locks, but otherwise looks so much like her mama, and whose been Daddy’s Little Girl since the doctor set her in my arms for the very first time almost thirteen years ago, got grounded for the first time ever because of shit the older girls talked her into. My older boys, Nash and Colt, didn’t have the heart to stop her. Harley has the Baxter men wrapped around her pinkie, just like their mom.

“But you might want to think twice before making that offer to her,” I say, still chuckling.

Though Bri could do worse than Gun for an old man and everybody knows it. Because he’s just like his dad, he can take care of any woman he chooses to call his own. And with how his parents are, he’s only ever seen love in his home. Boss treats his wife like she’s the Queen of fucking Sheba. Even after all these years of being married and adding two more sons, Ride and Bastian, to their home. Gun’s smart, quick-witted, and loyal as fuck. I’m proud to call him a brother.

Diesel, Duke’s son and Gun’s best friend and partner in crime, saunters up to stand next to Gun along with my nephew Jack, Hero and Brinley’s oldest. Diesel’s a real even split between his dad and his mom. Duke’s dark hair. Caity’s green eyes. He’s tall and lean, but solid and strong. A good man to have at your back. Jack, they named him after Hero’s father, is a chip off the old block. Hollywood, pretty boy just like his pop. He’s a prospect with the club. Poor kid, I remember those days. Hero thought he got off lucky after Jack came along. Boy, was he wrong. Brin gave him three daughters after that, Rocket, Rebel and Raven, every bit as beautiful as their mother. They’ve had the boys sniffing around since those young bucks discovered girls. It’s been a struggle. Diesel points over at Bri. “Heard she went off with some quarterback from Cumberlands at a party last weekend,” he says. “Don’t know what happened, but I heard some people talkin’ shit about him spreadin’ shit—if you know what I mean.”

“Goddammit,” Gun grumbles.

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