Redemption (The Brazen Bulls Birthright Book 1) by Susan Fanetti

Author:Susan Fanetti [Fanetti, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-30T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Eight hissed as the hot water sprayed across his back and shoulders and turned them to fire. His back was a thicket of long red welts from Marcella’s nails, and his shoulder throbbed from her teeth. He was going to have to get the hydrogen peroxide out and tend to his shoulder. Mouths were filthy things. Even pretty ones like hers.

He felt fucking terrible. His head thudded, and his chest felt full of hot coals.

His dick did its Pavlovian thing, swelling full in the shower, but he was exhausted—and sore as hell—so he ignored it. Greedy asshole. It had fucked Marcella eighteen ways from Tuesday; it could go one shower without getting off again.

Plus, he wasn’t in the fucking mood. Leaning his forehead on the tile wall, he simply sagged there, letting the water run, trying not to think.

But his stupid brain would not shut up. If it would think in a straight line, maybe he could get control of it, but thoughts and feelings just spun around in there, and he could hardly catch one long enough to get a good look.

He felt different. He felt wrong. He felt fucking terrible.

He needed something, something big had opened up a crater in him, but he couldn’t figure out what. He wanted to do right by the kid, but he had no idea what ‘right’ looked like. Marcella said now that he was in he had to stick, but was she right? What if he hurt the kid—his kid—just by being the same old asshole he’d always been? Was he supposed to be somebody different now? Change, at his age? How the fuck was that supposed to happen?

And who was he supposed to become?

And then there was Marcella. Last night, and this morning, something had happened. In and around all that fucking, something big had changed. What it was, or even where, he couldn’t see. But it had made that crater in his chest bigger, deeper.

It had hurt when she wouldn’t talk this morning. Eight hated serious talk, especially with women, who were confusing as fuck, never said anything straight out, and expected guys to be mind-readers. Eight could hardly read his own mind, let alone some chick’s he didn’t care about.

This morning, however, he’d wanted to talk. He needed help knowing what to do, how to be, what it all fucking meant. And she’d shut him down. It hurt.

Because he wanted her.

He thought. Maybe. Was that it?

In his mental whirlwind, that thought caught and held steady. He wanted her.

But she hated him. And he wasn’t sure he liked her.

She was a world-class fuck, but she was also a mouthy bitch, riding his ass more enthusiastically than she rode his dick. Did he really want someone like that in deep in his life?

Of course not. He was a lone wolf, doing whatever the fuck he wanted, not worrying about anybody but himself and his club.

Right? Right? Right.

So why the fuck did he feel so bad?

Goddamn, he missed Becker. Beck had known about Marcella and the boy.

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