Black (The Devil's House MC) #4: Motorcycle Club Romance (The Devil's House MC Pennsylvania) by Mhairi O'Reilly

Author:Mhairi O'Reilly [O'Reilly, Mhairi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

ANN

HANGING UP with my call from Mary, she is worried about me and suggested I come to stay at the clubhouse. I don’t want to have to do that. I simply wouldn’t be comfortable. And besides, Black is staying with me to keep watch, so I felt safe.

Listening to Black talk about his childhood was hard. To be abused by your own parent was awful, and I get the feeling he is carrying scars from it. But still, Black always had that smile and goof off attitude like he hadn’t a care in the world. I enjoyed being with him and was amazed at how easy it was for me to open up to him.

Mary didn’t even know about some of the things I said to Black.

I hope I wasn’t making a mistake letting him inside of my life. I liked Black a lot, and the more time I spent with him, the more I fell for him. It wasn’t just sex, which was mind-blowing, hotter than I could have imagined.

It was more, way more.

Since there wasn’t any pizza left, clean-up was easy. I rinsed the plates putting them in the dishwasher, waiting for Black to finish his phone call and come back inside. I was trying not to think of the fact that right now, someone was out there watching me. I kept wracking my mind as to who it could be. I don’t go out and party nearly like I used to. Having responsibilities cured that fast. I hadn’t even hooked up with anyone before Black in a year, so I had no idea why suddenly someone would target me.

I walked over to my recent painting; I wasn’t quite finished. It was a homeless man who was begging on the street. I sat across the street sketching him. His loneliness and desperation were all over his face and went even more profound when you looked into his eyes. When I was done, I walked over to him, slipping him a hundred, and hope replaced the look in his eyes for a brief moment. I walked back to my car, sketched the look of hope on another page, and was now trying to merge the two into his face on my canvas.

“You really are good, you know,” Black said behind me, causing me to jump. I hadn’t heard him walk up.

“Thank you, and I’m hoping this one that I’m working on now will be the one that I enter into the art contest during the fair this year.”

“Have you entered before?”

“Yes, I’ve come in second the last two years. I want that first-place ribbon. But, not that second is bad; both my painting sold after the contest at the auction they hold,” I said, pride in my voice. There had been hundreds of submissions, so I was proud of my work.

“This year will be your year. I can feel it,” Black said, putting his arms around me and kissing my neck. “Now that your belly is full, I am ready for dessert.

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