Start a War (Saint View Psychos #1)(85)

It wasn’t that I didn’t love and respect my father. But this wasn’t him. He would have been chomping at the bit to get back to the compound and a bottle of scotch too.

The minister fumbled around and huffed a bit, but there wasn’t much he could do when I stepped forward and took a clump of dirt from the pile next to the open grave. I threw it in, watching it spread over the shining mahogany of my old man’s coffin. “See you in Hell, old boy. I hope they have air-conditioning.”

After the life he’d led, there was no way he was getting through Heaven’s pearly gates.

None of us were.

Except maybe Bliss, because even dressed in all black, she was so fucking beautiful she had to be heaven sent. “See you all back at the clubhouse.” I strode away through the rain, my steps quickening the closer I got to Bliss.

“Hey,” she said when I approached. “I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t invited, but I just wanted to come pay my respects—”

I grabbed her hand as I passed but didn’t slow down. She hurried in little heels that sank into the soggy ground while trying to keep up with me.

“War, wait. I’m really sorry about the other night. By the time I got out, you were gone. I knew everything was happening with the funeral, so I didn’t want to intrude.”

My bike was too fucking far away. I could feel the stares of the rest of the club on my back while Bliss babbled. I increased the pace, forcing Bliss to practically run after me, but I couldn’t stop it. I needed to get out of here. At my motorcycle, I spun on her and yanked the umbrella out of her hand, tossing it on the side of the road. “You ever ridden one of these before?”

She was still staring at her discarded umbrella. “A bike? No.”

“You’re about to learn.” I swung a leg over and then motioned for her to get on the back behind me.

“I’ve got heels on.”

“Then lose ’em. I don’t fucking care. I just need to get out of here. Now get the fuck on.”

She did it instantly, kicking off her heels and discarding them on the side of the road along with her umbrella and car. She held me tentatively, her hands limp at my sides.

I grabbed them, wrapping them around my middle, pressing her palms to my abs. “I ate you out until your pussy wept, Bliss. You had my cock in your mouth. You can fucking touch me.”

She settled in behind me, holding me tighter and turning her face to one side to rest her head against my back. I stomped viciously on the kick start, and the engine roared to life with a satisfying bellow I never got sick of.

“Where are we going?” she yelled over the noise.

“No fucking idea.” As long as it was anywhere but here.

I peeled out of the graveyard parking lot and just let myself get lost in the feel of a woman on the back of my bike.

I’d never had one there.

Not once in the sixteen years I’d had a license, nor all the years before that when I was riding beat-up old junkers around the compound.

You didn’t take just anyone on your bike. That seat was sacred ground in my world.

And I’d just put Bliss on the back for the entire fucking club to see.

I drove aimlessly, loving the way she was so soft but held on so tightly. Her hand snuck inside my open jacket to press against my stomach. My dick kicked to attention, which wasn’t ideal, but there was no controlling it when she was up against me.

I soon found I did have a destination in mind and took the winding road along the coast, gunning the bike harder, pushing it up to the cliffs.

I steered off the main road and down a short bumping path that led to the Saint View Lookout.

There was still police tape everywhere, but not a soul around, so I drove straight through it. It tore easily and flapped in the strong breeze that buffeted us. I drove us right up to the edge of the cliffs, as far as I could possibly go while still keeping her safe.

Then I killed the engine and let the roar of the ocean below us become the new noise that filled my ears.

That, and Bliss’s breaths, warm against my neck.

She didn’t let me go. She just sat there on the back of my bike, holding me.

A wave of emotion clogged my throat.

My parents’ car had hit the rocky walls right around here somewhere. I couldn’t tell where, the rain was too thick, the weather too gray and dull to see, and yet the two of us sat here in the middle of the storm, getting drenched. Neither of us seemed to notice.

I reached a hand back and gripped her thigh, holding on to her as tightly as she held me, because somehow, she felt like the only thing keeping me together.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “So sorry you lost him.”

I couldn’t stand it. The sensation of loss was suddenly so deeply raw that it felt like it was shredding me from the inside out.

I hated the way it felt.

It was foreign and painful, and I just wanted it to stop. I yanked open my fly, pulling out my dick. With my other hand, I tugged on her thigh, dragging her legs up and around me while I hoisted her to straddle my lap. She gasped when she felt my erection, prodding at her inner thighs, but she instantly reached between us to stroke me, her other hand on my shoulder while my feet planted flat on the rocky ground balanced us.

My lips went for her neck, kissing and licking away the trickle of rainwater and sucking on her sweet skin that smelled faintly of honeysuckle, even though she was soaked.