“Look out your window.” I stare at him in confusion, but do as he said. Raising the blinds, my breath catches in my throat at what I see merely feet from my room.
A trampoline.
I’m still staring in shock at the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me, when I feel him standing behind me.
A trampoline.
For me—the aspiring trampoline gymnast.
Beaming, I turn to face him and cup his cheeks in my hand. “You got me a trampoline!” I squeal. Pulling his lips down to meet mine, I place a sloppy, wet kiss in the center of them. “Thank you!”
Okay, enough of that shit. My hands shake as I struggle with the window. I hear him laugh as it takes me a few tries before I finally get it. Crawling through, I motion with my hand for him to follow and he rolls his eyes—he can’t fit.
“I’ll use the door.” Yeah, yeah, yeah.
“Bring me some socks!” I yell at his back. I’m too damn excited to wait, so I climb on barefooted. I’m mid-flip when I see him approach, carrying in his hand a pair of my socks.
“I’m guessing you like it,” he smirks, tossing them at me.
“Like it? I fucking love it!” I bounce on my ass a few times before coming to a seated position. “I haven’t jumped on one since I was a kid. My childhood best friend had one. We lived on the damn thing. It’s like riding a bike. I still got it.”
Pulling my socks over my feet, I stare up at him as he stands there smiling—looking as happy as I feel. “This is awesome,” I say, then burst out in a fit of laughter for no apparent reason. I can’t remember being this excited over anything. “I’ve missed you today, by the way.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” He’s joking and it’s a damn good thing. I doubt I’ll do anything else for the rest of the evening but jump. “Don’t overdo it.”
“Watch this,” I say, ignoring him. My incision is healed and I’m too excited to feel any pain in this moment anyway. Getting to my feet, I find my balance before I start jumping—higher and higher until I’ve built up enough momentum to perform my air back handspring.
“Impressive.”
“I know,” I say, flipping again.
“You’re gonna do this all day, ain’t you?”
“Yep.”
“Then take this.” He pulls his hoodie over his head. Beneath it he wears a muscle shirt, and my breathing becomes more erratic at the sight. Maybe jumping isn’t all I want to do…
Tossing me the hoodie, I catch it in midst of a toe touch. “Did you see that?”
“Seen enough, babe. Have fun.” He throws his hand up as he walks away. I pull the hoodie over my head, never slowing my jump.
Without really realizing what I’m doing, I manage a double-flip half-twist thingy, before landing perfectly on my feet.
Olympics…here I come.
CHAPTER 30
The sun has disappeared behind the trees—leaving a line of red and orange clouds in its wake. I’m taking a small break, lying flat on my back and staring up at the colorful sky. The change is so swift, I want to make sure I don’t miss it. Well, that and I can no longer feel my legs.
“Heads up.” I look up to see Bryce approaching just as he tosses a bottle of water at my feet. I greedily suck down the cool liquid I hadn’t realized I was craving until now.
The trampoline dips with the weight of Bryce’s body as he rolls next to me—stretching the net taunt and forcing me into his side. He must have anticipated the move, because my head rolls perfectly to his shoulder as his arm comes around my back.
“If you break my trampoline, I’m kicking your ass,” I tease, although a part of me is very, very serious. He ignores my comment as he rolls to his side, leaning on his elbow smiling down at me.
“You look happy.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“That’s because I am.” So very happy… “Why did you get this for me?”
He shrugs. “Because I like to see you smile.” My heart does that pitter-pattering thing in my chest. “I have something else for you too.” He hands me an envelope.
Opening it, my smile falters slightly when I see the name at the top—Priscilla Scott—my mother. Below it is an account number and a recent deposit of one thousand dollars.
“I know you worry about your mother,” Bryce starts, sweeping my hair back from my face. “So I pulled some strings and got her bank account information. I wired the money, and mailed her a phone.” He points to the phone number at the bottom of the page.
“Call her, Love.” He tips my chin so I meet his gaze. “And no matter what happens, remember that I’m here. That I love you. And you’re never alone.” Pressing his lips to mine, he gives me a soft kiss before rolling off the trampoline and walking away.
I pull my cell phone from my pocket. It takes a few tries for me to get the number right, and even then, I struggle with what to do. Bryce had made it possible to contact the one person missing in my life. Not only that, but he’d made sure to ease my worry and guilt by sending her money to ensure she had a way to pay her bills. And he did all that because he loved me.
I don’t want to taint our love with ghosts of my pasts. I want to lock them up along with my beast and throw away the key. But I need closure. I need to end my relationship with my mother, or take the first steps toward building a new one. With a deep breath, I hit send.
“Hello?”
“Mama?” I choke on the word, silently waiting for her reply.
“Delilah?”
“Yeah, Mama. It’s me. How are you?” The background noise is silenced, and I assume she muted the TV.
“I’ve been better. Where are you, girl?”
“I’m at a friend’s,” I lie smoothly, still not ready to tell her where I live.
“What? You too damn good to visit your own mother? I bet your little fast ass is in trouble, huh? I don’t know how you got this number, but you ain’t got no right calling me and askin’ me to bail you out.” I close my eyes, resigned by her words.
“I’m not in trouble, Mama. I just called to say hello.”
“Well, it’s a fine time after I ain’t heard from you in weeks. If you ain’t got the audacity to come see me face to face, then don’t bother callin’.” For a moment, I’m sure she’s hung up. But then I hear her heavy breathing.
“I won’t be calling again, Mama. But you have my number if you need me. Take care of yourself.”
“Uh-huh. You’ll be back. You always come crawlin’ back.”
I bite my lip, shaking my head hard even though she can’t see it. “Not this time. Not anymore.” I hang up—staring at the first sign of stars as the sky darkens further. I don’t cry. I don’t give in to the crushing pain in my chest. I hold tight to it—cage it just as I’d planned.
What could’ve been hours later, I feel Bryce gather me in his arms—wordlessly carrying me through the clubhouse and to my room…our room.
He handles my body much like he handles my heart—ridding it completely of anything that can separate us. My body isn’t the only thing naked as he curls around me beneath the covers. My soul is bared to him—raw, exposed and open...
Climbing over me, he’s sure to keep his weight off my body as he kisses my eyes…my cheeks…my lips. “My Love,” he breathes, and the word adds a brick to the gaping hole my mother left in my chest. “So sweet…” His mouth trails down my throat, and between my breasts, hovering just above the start of my nasty scar.
“So beautiful.” When he plants a tender kiss on the raised flesh, I’m sure he healed it completely. “Everything about you is precious, Love…perfect.” Another brick is laid, and the hole becomes smaller and smaller.
“I’m going to make love to you—slow, sweet love.”
I let out a moan, my hands finding his muscled arms and raking down the heated, tattooed skin. “I’m going to worship your body... I’m going to take care of you, Love.” His head dips between my thighs and in one sweeping move, his tongue glides between my folds—stroking and caressing the burning, quivering, neglected flesh. My back bows. My hips buck against his face. His mouth covers me—drinking me in as if my arousal is vital to his existence.
I come hard, suddenly. Pleasure flows lazily through me—touching every part of my body until I can feel my orgasm in the smallest of places…behind my knees…between my toes…in my ears.
I’m coming down, and he’s climbing on—pushing my knees apart gently and taking his place between my thighs where I welcome him with a moaning, wanting invitation. He presses inside me—slowly filling me. He stretches me, kisses me and pulls back to look at me beneath him—surrendering my body and my heart to only him.
“Give it all to me, Love,” he whispers, his thick cock stroking my walls at a deep, measured pace. “Give me your fears…your burdens…your guilt…” His lips trail up my neck, and to my ear. “Let me have it, Love. If you do, I promise for the rest of your life, all you’ll have to do is let me love you.”
Everything lifts. I feel weightless as I release it all. He asks, I give. That’s all there is. There is no patch. There’s no title for me to hold. I am not his property. He is simply a man—a biker…the sergeant at arms for the Devil’s Renegades.