Page 35 of Gatling
I ducked back into the Gala, grabbed my purse, and bolted. I didn’t tell Noah or Ryker or anyone where I was going, and I prayed they didn’t follow me.
Hurrying down two blocks, I stumbled into the pharmacy. After frantically scanning the shelves, I finally found the pregnancy tests, grabbed three boxes, and bolted for the ladies’ room.
I closed my eyes, waiting, holding that damn pregnancy test and praying harder than I’d ever prayed in my life.
Then I opened my eyes and looked.
Two pink lines.
Positive.
Fuck.
I’m pregnant with Ryker’s baby.
Chapter eleven
Gatling
I forced myself to stay at the party for one hour. Long enough to mingle, grab a drink, making sure that Noah witnessed me wandering around the room. He couldn’t bitch about me never showing up to these damn things after this.
Then I finally made my escape.
Yanking at the collar of my uniform, I grabbed my bike and climbed on. I could still smell Kelsie’s perfume clinging to my clothes, my skin, filling my lungs.
I came here for her. Not Noah, not the veterans. Just her.
And now I could smell her on me. Sweet and light and—
Fuck, I was hard as a rock.
I debated drowning myself in a bottle of whiskey at the clubhouse in an effort to put Kelsie behind me. The curve of her waist fit so perfectly in my palm. And the dip of her collar offered a tempting glimpse of her cleavage.
I’d tasted those tits at one time. My mouth watered at the memory and my dick throbbed even harder. Jesus, I felt like I was falling apart, unraveling, crumbling.
And this damn uniform was strangling me.
Despite my service in the military, I never truly felt like a soldier. I was a hunter, and the military needed men like me who knew how to use a gun. Taking orders got my hackles up though, and I often butted heads with authority figures who attempted to boss me around in order to establish some form of dominance. That didn’t go over well either.
For Noah, the uniform became part of his identity, defining so much of his life. He was proud of his military days and he wanted the world to witness that.
Racing back to my cabin, I shoved the front door open, stripping off my uniform as I went.
A shower. I needed an icy cold shower to cool my blood and tame this hard-on. Goosebumps prickled across my skin as I tossed my shirt on the foot of my bed, striding toward the bathroom. I didn’t have central heating in my cabin, relying on the fireplace for warmth. But the coals had burned to ash while I was at the Gala, and my breath frosted in the air.
A flash of pink caught my attention, peeking out from beneath my pillow.
I screeched to a stop, heart hammering against my sternum.
Kelsie’s panties. The pair I’d stolen when I broke into her apartment to fix her shower.
I forgot I had them.
Sinking onto the edge of the mattress, I reached out and plucked the lace up. Twisting it in my fingers.
My cock pulsed with every thunderous heartbeat.
The fabric was worn to silky softness, and the lace looked so delicate in my callused, rough hands. The dirt under my fingernails. The scars across my knuckles.
