MC ROMANCE: Wanted by the Alpha Biker (Motorcycle Club Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (MC Romantic Suspense Contemporary New Adult Short Stories) (112 page)

              “Um, well, yeah, I guess so.  I wonder why he came.” I scratched my head, questioning the validity of asking Brian to escort me into the house.  I decided against it.  “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

              “No problem.” He smiled and waved as he walked back to his pathway, half shoveled.  I waited for a moment longer, watching him pick his shovel back up and begin heaving the snow away, like He-Man.  It was nice.

              I walked into the house and the first thing I noticed was the smell.  It smelled like burning.  Putting my coat and purse on the floor, I made my way into the living room where absolutely nothing was out of place.  The blanket was still haphazardly bundled, my magazine was still open to the same page.  The smell was stronger, though.  I looked to the dining room table.

              Sixty long stemmed, once red roses were laid out along the table.  Most were bent and battered, some were still straight as a pin, but all of them were now black, their petals brittle and broken fragments of petrified ash waiting to fall into dust.  Adam had found the roses in the trash can and decided to make a true gesture, one that couldn’t be thrown away no matter how long it sat in the garbage.

              I picked up the roses, careful not to shake any of the burnt petals onto the ground, and deposited them into the kitchen trash can.  I swiftly took the bag out and put it outside.  I walked it all the way to the curb, in case Adam wanted to drive by again and take a look.  I thought to call Laura, but I didn’t want to worry her or encourage another session of talking about Adam and our history.  At that point, I just wanted it to be over.

              I busied myself with spray the house in an attempt to mask the smell of Adam’s fiery passion, but easily succumbed to the couch and the magazine I was almost finished with.  After a minute or two of reading, I heard a very faint sound coming from the bedroom.  I waited until I heard it again and made my way upstairs.  As I got to the room, I heard it was a very distinct meowing.  I sighed loudly and smiled, getting on my hands and needs to check for Tweety under the bed.

              “Where are you, princess?” I spoke softly when I saw she wasn’t there.  I walked to the en suite bathroom door, which was closed.  “Did you shut yourself inside again?” I opened the door, ready for her to come speeding out like a bullet.  She did not.  The meowing became more and more persistent, less of a reminder and more of an alarm.  “Where are you?” I said to myself.  I checked the closet, but she wasn’t there.  Where ever she was, she had been there for a while now.  Then it hit me.

              In the far corner of the bedroom is the entrance to a crawlspace.  The house was very old and the attic was converted into a “master floor”.  While it looked great and gave us plenty of room to put furniture and guests, it left us with nothing more than a tiny, coffin-sized crawlspace for storage.  My heart began pounding.  Adam had done something.  Tweety had now starting howling, hearing that I was nearer.

              Shaking, I opened the hatch to the crawl space and was hit immediately with freezing cold air.  I began to panic.  I could hear Tweety scratching violently as I neared my head towards the space.  I closed my eyes, breathing heavily, and my mouth starting to fill with saliva.  When I opened my eyes, the room began to spin.  The crawl space looked no wider than a shoe box and my chest heaved under the pressure.  I saw the box all the way at the other end, shaking and twitching.  I started to cry, though not voluntarily.  The cat was screaming and howling, probably half frozen, and I could do nothing but sit in a lump and cry.  The box was marked “Adam’s”.

              I fought to stand on my feet and I half limped, half crawled to the stairs and out the front door.  Brian was still outside shoveling the damned walkway.  I screamed, not making words, just sounds, and waving at him manically.  I caught his attention and he ran over, the snow no issue for him whatsoever.

              “What’s the matter?  What is it?  Are you choking?”

              “Crawlspace,” I choked out.  “Crawlspace. Bedroom.” I pointed up the stairs as I tried to catch my breath.  Without another word, Brian stormed into the house and bounded up the stairs like a soldier.  By the time I was standing on my feet, bracing myself with the railing, he was back downstairs with Tweety in his arms.  I could only smile as he handed her to me, shivering and almost solid with cold.  She clung to me, meowing loudly in my face, as we walked into the living room, closing the winter outside.

              “I’m so sorry about that.” I laughed as my nerves took over.  He sat down on the couch beside me.

              “That’s alright.  I’m just relieved it wasn’t a monster.  I thought for sure I was getting ready to kill something.”  He joked as I eased.  His face grew with concern, though. “Are you alright?  It looked like you were having a panic attack.”

              “I’m okay now.” I shifted my eyes around, debated whether or not it was too early in this friendship for me to expose my intolerable psychosis.  “I’m just afraid of small spaces.”

              “Yeah, well, they’re not for everyone.” He sat up a little straighter. “I was on a submarine once.  Your crawlspace is large enough for four men to sleep in comfortably.” My chest tightened at the thought.

              “What were you doing on a submarine?” I asked, feeling stupid for not realizing.

              “I was a Navy SEAL for about four years.  We were sent to answer a distress call.  And that’s really all I can say.” As he spoke, he tensed up.  He was a tall man, kept himself in shape.  It wasn’t surprising to hear he had been in the military.

              “Navy SEAL, isn’t that, like, a huge honor?” I didn’t look at him when I asked that.  I’m not sure why.

              “It is a lot of responsibility, but, yes, a very honorable position.”

              “Why are you no longer…with them?”

              “I was injured and was no longer eligible for the position.” He looked pained, disappointment creeping in his eyes. “I was offered a job in recruitment, but felt it wasn’t what I was destined for.  There aren’t many SEALs in their thirties, so I only had a few good years before I was getting ousted anyway.  My time was cut short though.”

              “I’m sorry to hear that.”  We sat silently for a few moments, Tweety curled up in a ball underneath the blanket between us.  “Looks like she’s settled.”

              “I take it from this stunt that your fiancé isn’t on the same page as you concerning your relationship.” Brian stated bluntly.

              “Not even in the slightest.” I tried to laugh, but only air came out.

              “Is he a violent man?  What happened between you two?”

              “Violent?  No.  Never been before.  He cheated on me and I ended it.  Pretty cut and dry.  I’ve been trying to find a new place, but it isn’t really a good market.”

              “I have a spare room.” He said, looking immediately horrified. “I mean, I’ve got three.  It’s only matter of time before you find a place.”  He looked into his hands for a moment. “I should probably be getting home.  If you need anything, just let me know.”             

              “Oh, okay, sure,” I smiled and walked him to the door. “Thanks again for all of your help.  I don’t expect this to happen again.”  He turned and smiled.

              “Don’t mention it.”  He waved and walked off the porch, disappearing into the night that had fallen.  I closed the door, smiling.  What a brave man he was.  A navy SEAL.  That was totally more impressive than a Junior Partner…wasn’t it?  A moment later the doorbell rang.  I skipped towards the door, believing it to be Brian.

              I swung the door open and no one was there.  Instead, a gnarled, frozen, lifeless body of a cat lay at my feet.  I was too stunned to scream.  A note that had been taped to the front door blew in the wind.  I grabbed it and closed the door.  It read:

Good thing your boyfriend came over to rescue Tweety, Scaredy Cat. – A

              I dropped the note and called the police.

Chapter 2: Which Led to a bed

              The police arrived and took my statement.  It was all very surreal.  The lights spinning around against the snow were blinding, disorienting, and the voices clicking over the radios on the officers’ shoulders were unnerving.  I stared down into the blank hole in the snow on the porch where the dead cat was as the officer’s asked me textbook questions.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brian walking over from his door and felt awash with relief.

              “Nellie, what’s going on?” he said as he tried to approach me, but an officer stood in his way.

              “Sir, do you know Miss Parker?” the officer eyed him carefully.

              “Yes, she’s my neighbor.” He said, sternly, seemingly staring through the officer, who shifted uneasily.  “I was just over here a few hours ago.  Helping her with…something.”

              “Did you hear or see anything after you left?”

              “No.  What’s this about?”  Brian muscled his way past the officer and came to my side.  It was a startling display of hormones, to say the least.  His arm snaked his way around my shoulders and I pressed my face against his chest.  It was the fastest I had ever grown to like someone.  We had only met earlier that day and here I was clinging to him like a frog to a lily pad.  As he and the officer discussed the “incident”, my eyes scanned the small crowd that had formed.  I saw no one that I recognized and yet everyone looked like Adam for a split second.

              “Nellie, do you have anywhere you can stay tonight?” the officer asked.  My mind raced.  I had called Laura after I called the police, but she hadn’t answered.  I didn’t want to worry her, so I didn’t leave a message.  I was sure that if I called her now, not only would she be worried, but she would also be angry that I hadn’t left a message.  I thought of my mother and shivered, so I just kind of shook my head.

              “She can stay with me.” Brian said, much to my dismay.  While the idea of staying with Brian was nice and comforting, Adam had already jumped to conclusions and I didn’t want a potential love interest to get chased away by his irrationality.

              “Will that work for you, Miss Parker?” I nodded absently and looked up at Brian, who smiled down on me.

              “You can even bring Tweety.” I smiled as Brian pulled me closer to him.  As the officers got into their cars and left, Brian and I made the trek across the yard to his place with Tweety.  The house was very warm, very inviting.  Adam had designed our house to look clean and modern – lots of white, lots of black, lots of grey.  Brian’s house was a mishmash of his past.  There were medals in shadowboxes hanging on his walls, mismatched furniture that all looked warm and comfortable.  Instead of energy saving, bright white lightbulbs, he had those yellowish 60 watts in all of his lamps, casting a nice glow.  I put Tweety down and she jumped right to his couch and fell asleep.

              “Well, I guess she approves.” I laughed.

              “That scores me points, right?” he laughed and showed me to the kitchen.  “Can I get you something to drink?”

              “I’ll take a glass of water.” I nodded.  I sat gingerly at the kitchen table, taking in that night’s events.  He slid a mason jar of water towards me and I thanked him.  “What a night.”

              “Oh, I can only imagine what you’re going through right now.”  He tried to sound sympathetic though I knew he had been through so much worse in his own life.  Something like this was nothing compared to trudging through mud up to your knees for days, dropping out of planes into oceans, or, heaven forbid, killing someone before they had the chance to kill you.  It made me shudder thinking about it.  “You look like you could use some sleep.  With all of the bedrooms I have though, I only have one bed.”

              “Oh, the couch is fine.” I smiled, sipping on the water slowly.

              “Not what I meant.  You can take my bed.  I’ll take the couch.  I’m actually getting the better end of the deal.  This is the most comfortable couch ever.  I mean, that’s why Tweety is already asleep.”  I began to laugh as Brian smiled wide.

              “Well, far be it for me to rob you of your couch.”

              “I’ll show you to my room.”  We walked up the stairs together, making small talk as if we were old friends.  That was the best part about that night, feeling as if I had known Brian my entire life.  I actually went back into my past and thought about any Brians I had ever met, just to be sure I, in fact, didn’t know him already.  I didn’t.

              “Sleep well and if you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.” Brian smiled to me from the doorway.  I sat down on the bed and smiled back at him.

              “Maybe you could just, I don’t know, stay.” I said, speaking my mind instead of thinking before I said anything.

              “What do you mean?” he asked, genuinely misunderstanding.  I felt like a hooker.  I felt like a desperate college freshmen trying to spend the night away from her snoring roommate.

              “I just meant that maybe you didn’t have to leave… right now.” Brian looked around the room cautiously.  It was a now or never moment. “I just, God, I feel so stupid saying this, but I feel like I’ve known you my entire life.  Well, maybe not my entire life, but a solid chunk of it.  There’s something about you.  I don’t know.  Oh God, please don’t kick me out or think that I’m weird.”

              “I don’t think you’re weird.”

              “No, really, if you do, that’s fine, but well, please don’t.  Or do, but don’t let me know that you think that.”

              “No, Nellie, really, this isn’t weird.  I mean, maybe if I didn’t feel the same it would be weird, but I do.  I feel the same way.  It’s not that you remind me of anyone, either.” He absently walked into the room a little bit, closer to me.  I wanted him to sit next to me.  Adam was the furthest thing from my mind and it was all because of him.  If I had been with Laura at that very moment, we’d be talking about Adam and how crazy he was.

              “I’m really glad to hear you say this because I thought for sure you’d think I wanted to make a suit out of your skin or something equally grotesque.”  Brian laughed.

              “You’d never even get close.  I would stop you long before you even touched me.” He was oddly serious.

              “I’m not totally sure if that makes me feel more or less comfortable.” I chuckled and he eased.

              “Are you still scared?  You seem a little on edge.”

              “I wouldn’t say that I’m scared.  I am a little anxious though, but not about Adam.”  I stood up and walked towards Brian, my heart shaking my body from pounding too hard.  Brian didn’t back away, but he didn’t reach out for me either.  “You should know I don’t normally act like this.” I whispered as I got closer to him.

              “Are you sure you want to then?”  Our eyes were inches apart and unflinching.  A part of me thought what I was doing was a crazy, knee-jerk reaction to my sudden break up with Adam, but a huge part of me was thinking that Brian was the one.  The real one, this time.  I didn’t have time to wonder if I was ovulating or not.  That would have been an excellent explanation.

              “Absolutely.” I pulled his face towards mine and we kiss, passionately.  His lips were soft and the perfect size for mine, which are fairly large and the one subject for most of my childhood torment.  I left my hands fall to his shoulders as I felt his hand wrap around my waist.  I wondered for a moment how long it may have been since Brian had kissed a woman.  He was so good at it.

              I was in love with his hands.  They were large and played my hips like bongo drums.  It was always the first thing I looked at on a man – his hands.  If they weren’t twice the size of mine or covered in callouses and scars, I knew he’d be wrong for me.  Come to think of it, Adam’s hands were always perfectly manicured.  I led us towards the bed.  I was never one for foreplay.  He began pulling at the lower hem of my t-shirt, but hesitantly.  “It’s okay,” I whispered to him as he tried to fight his urge.  I eagerly grabbed his shirt and pulled it off over his head.  I gasped.

              His chest was covered in scars of all different shapes and sizes.  Some long slash marks, others seemingly like pock marks.  There was one, however, that would have been impossible to miss.  A quarter sized crater a few centimeters away from his heart.  Without thinking, I reached my hand up and touched it.  I watched his eyes wince.

              “I don’t like to show that one on the first date.”

              “I don’t need to know.”  I pushed my lips back onto his as he laid me down on my back.  The bed was actually quite comfortable and I remember thinking that I would be able to sleep in it just fine for as many nights as I’d get the chance to.  His weight felt nice on my chest, very comforting.  His hands danced on my skin and I pulled on my jeans to loosen them off of my hips and down my legs.  I could feel him growing through his pants and I wanted so bad to feel him inside of me.

              I reached my hands under his belt, loosening the leather strap and unbuttoning the ever tightening waist line.  I slowly unzipped his jeans, laced my fingers behind his boxers, and felt him for the first time.  He let out a soft, deep moan and bit my bottom lip hard, though it didn’t even hurt.  His fingers scrambled to my panties and tugged them down off of my hips.  My heart fluttered as I felt his fingertips nearing closer and closer to the void I was so desperate for him to fill.  When he touched me, I felt myself inviting him inside, hungry for a man that made me feel so safe and secure.

              “Are you sure?” he asked me again, breathlessly.  I kissed him hard and pulled bare hips towards mine.  When he entered me, it was as if I was having sex for the very first time.  I could feel every inch of him and my adrenaline was soaring through my veins.  I saw colors and felt heat radiating outward from my stomach.  I thought for sure he could feel it too and worried if maybe something was wrong with me.  He thrusted in and out, each time pushing himself further and deeper into me.  He moved slowly, the way they do in the movies when Phil Collins is playing in the background and the moonlight pouring through the window makes everything look a little hazy.

              Our breathing, hard, was in a syncopated rhythm.  I had never felt so close to anyone in my life.  If this was what sex was supposed to be like, I don’t know what I had been having up to that point.  We worked so well together.  I knew he was there for me and I trusted him completely.  He kissed me with every thrust, our lips magnetized.  My fingers rushed over his chest, memorizing every scar, reading it like braille.  I let myself moan and be as loud as he warranted.  It was exhilarating.

              I felt I was at the cusp of climaxing.  All of my muscles contracted, keeping him inside of me.  My thighs shook violently, as if they were being jolted with electricity.  My back arched, bringing us even closer together.  It took only a moment longer for him to join me in absolute ecstasy, our bodies writhing in pleasure.  I don’t believe there had ever been a more beautiful moment in my life.  Laying side by side, breathless and beaded with sweat, he held my hand in his and kissed my forehead.  My mind was so clear.  I felt weightless.

              “That was amazing,” he broke the silence as he fingered my knuckles that I had been cracking since I was thirteen.

              “Yes, it most certainly was,” I laughed out in the awkward cloud that hung around the room.  I placed my other hand on his chest, tracing his scars with my finger idly.

              “That one was from a knife fight outside of a camp in Baghdad.”  He began pointing out all of his scars and telling me the stories.  Some were silly, some warranted larger scars than what he had, but none of them were quite as shocking at the crater near his heart.  “This one,” he pointed to the crater, “was my kill shot.”

              “You’re what?”

              “It’s the injury that got me taken off the SEALs.  I’ll let you guess what it’s from.”

              “It’s clearly from a bullet.”

              “Actually, it’s not.” He smiled. “There’s a matching scar on my back.  I took a spear through the chest while approaching an undisclosed location from sea.”

              “Seriously?” I asked propping myself up on my elbow to stare at him. “That is so badass!”

              “Yeah,” he chuckled. “It wasn’t that badass when I was losing three pints of blood on the beach.  If it had been a centimeter closer, I’d have died.  If it had been a centimeter further, I would probably still be in the SEALs.”

              “But you’re alive now.  And that’s pretty important, too.  At least to me.”  We smiled at each other and leaned in for a kiss when a crashing sound echoed throughout the house.  It sounded like glass splayed across the hardwood floor in his living room.  Tweety began to howl as Brian shot up out of bed.  I watched him run naked towards the door, pausing to assess the action downstairs.  He looked like a Greek god, shadows hitting him in all the right places.  He came back towards the bed and put his jeans on.

              “Stay here.  Be quiet.  Lock the door behind me.” I nodded and watched him leave.  I rushed into my clothes and locked the door behind him.  I couldn’t hear much of what was happening, but there was definitely a scuffle beneath me.  I could hear yelling, but no words were coming through clearly.  I began to panic.  Even though Brian’s room was the largest in the house, I couldn’t stand still knowing that I had locked myself inside.