Stormy's Thunder: Satan's Devils MC Utah by Manda Mellett

Author:Manda Mellett [Mellett, Manda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781912288847
Publisher: Trish Haill Associates
Published: 2021-01-11T00:00:00+00:00

19

Cat…

I knew I was attracted to Jeremiah, and more than I’ve been to anyone before. It was why I hadn’t protested when he’d suddenly changed and taken the decision out of my hands.

If this is just once, it’s something I’ll remember for the rest of my life. I’ve never been with a man like him before.

I suspected he’d be too much for me to handle, and he almost was. I nearly faltered when he’d told me to undress. I would have objected were it not for that dominance in his tone which I’d found myself obeying, while feeling scared that he wouldn’t like the body I’d exposed.

He’d seen me before, but this time was different. When I was vulnerable I’d welcomed his indifference, this time I wanted him to like what he saw.

He’d described me as perfect.

Could it be that at last I’d found a man who didn’t expect me to order salads, or cut my hair or wear different clothes. I hadn’t adorned myself with makeup, had worn nothing more than what I normally do around the house. But it had been enough. His eagerness was the evidence.

And oh, the sex. I’ve never come so hard before, never been with a man so focused on my pleasure. So expert in his handling of my body.

He must have had practice.

Well, if all the women before had helped him acquire his expertise, I’m the one getting the benefit now. But for how long? That’s the question.

“Cat, we should talk.”

The words every woman dreads to hear, especially when she’s found a man who can give her multiple orgasms.

“No, don’t tense up. I’m wondering where we go from here.” He sits up. I’m prepared for him to stand, to pull his t-shirt back on and to leave with a few words of goodbye. He didn’t even bother to get completely undressed. Tears prick in the back of my eyes, but I’m determined they won’t fall, not yet. I’ll wait until he’s gone.

I hardly dare breathe in case I sob, but as my eyes follow him, he doesn’t move far. He perches on the edge of the bed, leans forward to remove his boots, and pushes his jeans down to the floor.

“What’s that?”

His back is turned toward me. I sit up fast, hearing his intake of breath as I trace the large tattoo on his back.

His hand snakes out and grabs mine as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. This isn’t like the small lightning tattoo I’ve noticed on his neck before, this is the real deal. I might not be an expert in tattoos, but isn’t it odd that he’s got the insignia of a motorcycle club inked on his back? It’s well done, but scary, showing the grim reaper holding a scythe hovering over three little demons, with the words, Satan’s Devils MC beneath.

The question seems pointless, but still I ask, “Are you in a motorcycle club?”

He drops my hand and leaves his back turned toward me. “Yes. And no.

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