It Ain't Me, Babe

The man’s eyes widened at that piece of information. He began backing away, pointing his gun at several of the brothers before fleeing into the bushes.

Whooping and whistling, the brothers pulled out their guns and fired them into the air. The noise was as deafening as thunder.

Ky turned around, unbuttoning his jeans. I closed my eyes before he completely bared himself, but I heard him shout, “Bitches get naked, tits and pussies out! Brothers, I’ll see you in the water!” Squeals and laughter echoed off the large rocks, and I opened my eyes to behold bare bodies launching off the high ground into the water.

Beauty was on her feet and reached down to me. “Let’s go!”

Shaking my head, I insisted, “No. You go. I shall stay here.” She rolled her eyes, clearly about to protest but Tank ran for her, scooping her over his shoulder and raced over the edge. Beauty screamed a bloodcurdling scream.

Letti and Bull had moved to lower ground to watch the antics… That only left Rider and me sat up at the camp.

“You not going in?” I asked.

Rider rubbed his bristly brown beard and smiled. “Not my thing.”

Tilting my head, I studied him. “You are nothing like the others.”

One dark eyebrow rose.

“What I mean is, you do not drink, smoke, or use the women. Though they seem mighty disappointed at that. You are never angry. You are quiet, a thinker… a healer.”

Rider shrugged. “Don’t mean I haven’t done my fair share of bad shit, sugar. Life on the road’s a whole lot different to what you’re seeing back at the compound.”

“But still. It has been nice to have you around. Thank you… You make me feel safe.”

Rider’s dark gaze locked on to me. Sensing a worrying shift in my mood, I stood up quickly and looked down at his startled expression.

“I think I will go for a walk.”

Rider sighed quietly and tightened the bandana around his head. “You wanting company?”

“I shall be okay. But thank you.” With that, I headed to the sandy trail and into the tall trees, knowing Rider watched me with every step I took.

Walking slowly, I wrapped my hands around my waist, a hollow feeling in my stomach. I felt so out of my depth on the outside: the references people made to things I did not know, the rules of the Hangmen, and worse, the fact that I was a “freak” to them. As Letti had said, a girl shielded from civilization all her life, with no idea how to survive on her own. At age twenty-three, I felt like the only two people I could turn to were Styx and Rider. Rider, about whom I had no idea what he was thinking perhaps ninety percent of the time. And Styx… yes, Styx… the man who, when near, made me feel ashamed of the impure thoughts that occupied my mind. He confused me more than anyone I had ever met. The mute man with so much responsibly at such a young age, a man who already had a woman who adored him, a fact that made my heart break into a million shattered pieces.

Stopping in the center of a circle of trees, I looked up at the bright-blue sky and inhaled the earthy scent of the forest. Scooping my long heavy hair off my back, I held it to my head, relishing the breeze kissing my bare skin.

It felt divine.

Hearing a twig snap, my eyes flew open, fixing on a tanned bare chest, thick tattooed arms bunching in strain, fists clenched at the sides.

Styx.

Styx only feet away.

Styx with blazing hazel eyes, licking his bottom lip ring, completely focused on me.

As I sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, I let my hair drop as he began to approach—no, not approach, stalk. I stumbled back, trying to escape his too-strong intensity, only for my back to smack straight into the trunk of a tree. No place left to run.

The closer he got, the heavier his breath blew from slightly parted lips. The tips of his feet met mine and his arms arched over my head, the smell of his addictive smoky, leather musk coming off him in waves.

It made my head spin.

My eyes stayed low, focusing on the slash mark scars on his chest. As his hot breath blew against my cheek, my heart beat ever harder in my chest.

A hand ghosted down my hair, and Styx’s fingers ran softly against my cheek, the callused pads skirting over my lips. With a step closer, Styx’s chest pressed flat against mine. With instinct trumping logic, my hand gently touched the hot skin of his back. A low groan slipped through his lips, my eyes shifting to meet his.

That was all it took.

Styx’s lips crashed against mine, his strong hand gripped the back of my head, and his tongue probed and slipped between my lips, immediately stroking against mine. I jumped at the sudden intrusion. I had never been kissed since Styx, as a child, and that kiss was nothing like this. Afraid of losing my footing, both hands gripped onto his arms as I submitted to his onslaught. His lips were soft and his taste addictive. I worried I was doing it wrong. I worried that he would be displeased with my lack of skill.