Her Hidden Valentine by Monique Moreau

Author:Monique Moreau [Moreau, Monique]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Monique Moreau

Hoodie tried and tried, but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth.

Words of comfort, words of truth. Every time he tried to express his true feelings, they got tangled up in his throat and never made it out.

He’d choked again, and fuck, it pissed him off.

All because of that one day, locked in the closet, pounding his head against the door until it bled, when he screamed until he’d lost his voice. After that, he’d gone mute.

His best communication came through images, whether painted or graphic design. It took escaping and becoming part of the Squad before he talked again, but those early lessons were embedded in his very soul. They’d taught him that, at best, words were useless. At their worse, they led to more pain. Even against his will, he was incapable of speaking words that might leave him exposed.

Unfortunately, words were something Jazz needed.

Despite his broken relationship with language, Hoodie was no fool.

Jazz clearly had no idea how he felt about her. Guilt over betraying the club had clouded everything. The conversation he’d overheard between her and Tasa solidified those suspicions.

And no, he didn’t feel an ounce of remorse for eavesdropping.

Tasa had always been a sharp one, with her own bucketload of secrets. Why else would a woman who looked like her scour every room she entered, searching for threats? She was the only one who’d clocked him for the besotted fool he was. He was grateful she’d outed him, yet Jazz still walked away as clueless as ever.

It was like he was cursed.

Jazz was convinced he’d taken her on, that he’d saved her, because he was a pushover. He let out a snort of disbelief. Him, a sweetheart? There wasn’t a sweet bone in his body.

Verbalize it, he had kept pushing himself in the hallway outside the bathroom of the clubhouse.

Go on, tell her. Say the words, dammit!

But no matter how much he railed against himself, no sounds made it past his Adam’s apple.

Exhausted and demoralized by his own limitations, he allowed the temptress to take his hand and lead him out of the clubhouse thinking the only thing she had to offer him was sex. What he wanted was so far from a simple fuck. Hell, she’d run for the hills if she ever discovered the depths of his fixation with her.

Although he’d known Jazz for years, she’d been wrapped up in Whistle, and he wasn’t about to step in that pile of steaming dog shit if his life depended on it. After escaping his parents, his one goal in life had been to avoid disaster and falling for a chick in love with his best friend was a fucking tragedy waiting to happen. He’d had to grin and bear it every time he heard her tinkling, happy laugh like a goddamn angel come down from heaven to torture him and his dick.

Like the panting dog he was, he took her home and fucked her into the wee hours of the morning. While she lay beside him, hand flung over his waist in her sleep, he thought and thought and thought.

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