“Look at me.”
Bringing my eyes back to his, there’s nothing but pure, and deep sincerity beaming from them.
“Don’t ever… question that shit again. Understand me? Nothing and no-one could ever take away what you mean to me, Meadow. You were a victim. And what happened to you for all those years, means jack shit up against what I feel for you,” he whispers hoarsely, pushing my hair off my forehead before brushing his soft plush lips against it.
My eyes glass over and I exhale a breath of air. “Thank you.” I’m lost for words. There’s so much love in him for someone who’s so lost—just like me.
Running his thumb across my bottom lip, he smirks. “Now, where were we?”
After Beast made sweet love to me all night, I wake to Melissa standing above my bed eating toast. “Jesus!” I screech, pulling the sheet up to my chest.
She rolls her eyes before taking another bite. “Oh, please. I’ve seen your rack.”
My eyebrows draw together. “When?”
She pauses, searching around the room. “No, wait! That’s Phoebe. Anyway, doesn’t matter. Beast left early this morning, said we can go up to the clubhouse whenever, someone wants to meet us apparently.”
Swinging my legs over the bed, I pull my sex hair back, scrunching my face at the oiliness of it. “Who?”
She shrugs, making her way back to the door. “I don’t know, he said to walk.”
“Walk!” I answer, I can barely get out of bed let alone walk half an hour. My legs are like Jell-O and my muscles are pulsing with the thrashing my body got last night. Fucking walk, who’s he kidding. I pull out some clothes from my bag. White, worn cutoffs and a black T-shirt will do. They’re both skin tight, but I feel safer since I’ve been around Beast, he relaxes me and puts my body at ease. He’s like one large safety net that has cast himself around me and I can finally open up a little.
“Yeah, but here’s the thing,” she giggles, placing the rest of the toast into her mouth, “I was out in the little shed earlier, you know… snooping. Anyway, I saw a four-wheel bike sitting there. Are you keen?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows with a smirk on her face.
I laugh, taking out my body wash. “Sure. You’re driving, and give me twenty minutes to get ready.”
“Wait, no! I can’t drive.”
“Why?” I ask impatiently.
“I don’t know how.”
“Neither do I. I’ll call Phoebe. It can’t be that hard,” I whisper, ducking into the bathroom for a quick shower.
I’m sipping on my coffee in the kitchen when Melissa walks in, pushing her phone into her bag. She’s wearing a tight black casual strap dress that hugs her perfectly. I raise my eyebrows and smirk. “Hmmm, who are you looking all sexy for?”
“Not Hella, that’s for sure.”
I roll my eyes, emptying the leftover black goodness into the sink. “Sure, sure. Right, okay. Phoebe said it’s easy, I think I know what to do, so let’s go have a crack.”
“You look all sexy, too. Those tight little white shorts work with your body, and the rips around the upper thigh? Freaking sexy! Can I borrow?”
“Like you ever ask. Let’s go.”
We both walk out to the little shed that sits directly next to the house and Melissa slides open the rusted iron door, it squeaking at the movement.
Dusting her hands, she points. “There we are. And the keys are on the tire.”
Walking onto the dirt-ridden flooring, I grasp the keys from the mud-covered tire and swing my leg over the seat. Patting the back, I wink. “Well come on, homegirl. I’m not going to wait forever.”
She claps her hands and giggles. “I’m actually excited.”
“Don’t get too excited. I might kill us,” I state, pushing the keys in the ignition.
Melissa wraps her arms around my waist tightly and laughs into my back. “There is that.”
Shaking my head, I turn the key over and it starts first pop. Putting it into first, the way Phoebe lectured me thoroughly to do—after she begged me to not go through with this—I push the pedal down slowly until we glide forward, both in fits of laughter. I pull down the dirt driveway and make my way to the clubhouse. I can’t remember exactly where it is, but I know that it’s this way. Gaining some confidence, I drop it down a gear and push forward, Melissa gripping onto my waist tighter.
“Oh my God, Meadow!” she screeches, laughter filling her lungs.
With the dust flying up from behind the wheels and both of us in fits of laughter, we pull right up to the clubhouse door that’s opened with about five or six people standing outside, one being a female. My laughing stops along with the bike when I skid to a halt.