Page 18 of Stitch
Iwatched him leavewith regret, although it was quite funny watching him manhandle his Club President out of our premises, like a security guard removing a shoplifter from a store.
Lissa was still giggling, and then I remembered the shouting.
“You okay, girl?”
She nodded. “He’s a sweetheart, really. He’s got a lot going on, and a lot of anger, but he never made me feel uncomfortable.”
I wished I could say the same, because for the third time since I’d met the bastard, I was wet. Obviously the first time was a gimme, I mean, he was tonguing me like he wanted to fuck me. Earlier when I dragged him to the back to make him a drink, I felt almost like I was dragging him off somewhere for us to, guess what, fuck like animals. It got me more excited than I’d ever admit. But just then?
Just then, I like to think that the intense look on his face, when he saw Reacher beside me, was possessiveness. Maybe even jealousy. I wanted it to be that. I wanted him to feel territorial and aggressive toward other men being anywhere near me, and how fucked up is that? Clearly the kinds of books I read have corrupted me, to the point where any hint of behaviour I could liken to a hero in one of my books, had me on auto-moist setting.
“Cammy! You’re not listening!” I suddenly realised I’d been lost in thought, or let’s be honest, horniness over Stitch.
“Oh my god. It was him, wasn’t it? It was Stitch you were dry humping at the clubhouse.”
“Dry humping? You don’t say things like that! Where’s the Lissa I used to know? Ice has turned you into… into… well, me!”
She was giggling again.
“I can’t believe it was Stitch. I mean, I had no idea what he looked like, butoh my god, why didn’t I just take you to the wall of pictures! You could have pointed him out and then we could have asked someone. Where was my head last night?!”
“Probably in Ice’s lap.”
She slapped at my arm, but I noticed she didn’t disagree.
“Yeah, it was him. Stitch. What a weird name. Like, I don’t even know anything about him, except that crazy name. Like does he make his own clothes. Oh! Does he stitch all their damn patches on? I have no idea.”
“His real name is Seth, not that anyone should call him that when he’s with the club.”
“If he’s wearing his cut, it’s always his road name. That’s what I read somewhere.”
Lissa leaned on the front desk and stared at me.
“So… you and Stitch…”
My shoulders dropped, some of my excitement waning.
“Yeah? There’s nothing to tell. He snogged my face off, then apologised and… Oh! Oh my god, you don’t know what happened when he got here!”
She raised her eyebrows. “Talk, girl. We have nothing else to do here right now.”
“He thought I was you.”
She looked surprised, her gaze leaving mine for a moment.
“Is that why you guys were in the kitchen?”
“What, are you asking me if I pretended to be you? Of course, I didn’t. But he was mortified, because he thought he’d forced his lips on Ice’s old lady. It was quite cute actually.”
Lissa chewed her lip, watching me carefully.
“So you like him?”
“I don’t know him, Lissa, but he seems nice, and the things he can do with his tongue… I want to feel that all over.” She giggled, then sobered up.
“I can’t talk about why he’s here, obviously, but give him some time. He has a lot going on, and he may not stick around.”
I had so many questions, but I knew she couldn’t answer any of them.
