Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(53)
“Oh, yes,” she gasped. “So intense.”
Changing his hold on her so that she could lie back, and he could still suckle her, but he had one hand free, he pressed the heel of that hand into her abdomen, low, just above the pubic bone. He pressed firmly —and her eyes flew open as she practically exploded with sensation. She was making porn star noises, she could hear herself but not stop herself, these loud, moany cries of “Yes, yes, yes!”
And he was, too. He’d released her breast and was grunting, “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” And then, as her body turned to liquid, he threw his head back and tensed, his hands curling into her skin.
As he relaxed, he pulled her close, and she dropped her head to his shoulder, spent.
She still wanted to get to know his body, all of it. She still wanted to feel and taste him every way possible. But she could wait, as long as she had to. He was worth waiting for.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Show sat with his brothers in the Keep, paying less attention than he probably should be. In the past several months, club business had become regular, quiet, and the Horde meetings were the same. As Isaac and C.J. discussed the club funds—C..J, the only member not already an officer with any kind of head for numbers, had taken over the Secretary/Treasurer post after Dan’s death—Show let his mind wander to Shannon. They’d been what he felt comfortable thinking of as a couple for a month now, and he was all but living in her apartment at the B&B. He’d spent five nights a week there, at least.
That chafed at him some, staying at her place, which was so perfect and white, but she rightly didn’t like staying at the clubhouse, and he still hadn’t been able to see his way to move back to the house. He’d gone over a couple of times, when the weather allowed it, to take care of some of the yard cleanup—tearing down and hauling off the old swing set, raking and hoeing up the leaves and deadfall and burning it off— and he’d gone into the house and sat in the living room a few times, and in Daisy’s room once. That day, he’d also gone in and taken her journals out of the lockbox, but he hadn’t gotten past the first page of the oldest book before he had to stop.
And he still hadn’t been able to go into the kitchen. He just wasn’t ready to live in that house again.
He’d considered selling it and moving to another, but he couldn’t do that, either. It was the only home Daisy had ever had.
“Show? You with us, brother?” Isaac was looking at him, one eyebrow raised. Show looked around the table. He had everyone’s attention. Apparently a question had been sent his way, and he’d missed it. Not like him. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair.
“Sorry, sorry. Lot on my mind. What’s up?”
Isaac’s sardonic look shifted to concern. “Trouble?”
“Nah. Mind just wandered for a second.”
The eyebrow came back up. “We boring you?”
Show glared back, and Isaac, grinning, said, “I want you in with me on a call to Stan in L.A. He sent a copy of the script draft. I got concerns.” He got up and went to a small table in the corner of the room, on which was a tallish stack of paper. Returning to the table, he walked to each member, dropped a script in front of him. “I want everybody at this table to read it, then we meet and figure it out, but I think Show and I need a chat with Stan. These scripts don’t leave the clubhouse, and NO ONE but the men in this room reads them without my say.”
“What concerns?” Show leaned forward and picked up the script in front of him.
“Details about our previous business venture, and some shit about family that’s too close to the line. I think somebody—and I’m gonna guess Mac Evans or Jimmy or Meg Sullivan—shared more than we agreed. Some other shit. Doesn’t feel like the story we want told, and might make trouble for some of our friends—the Scorpions, for one. Script has them with us in St. Louis, which is true, but they don’t want that light shone their way, and we do not need the Scorps displeased. Here’s where the deal we cut for a say in the story comes into play.”
Show was surprised that Isaac hadn’t briefed him ahead of time about the script. They’d always worked as a team, and it was rare for Show to hear something for the first time while he was sitting in the Keep. But he made an effort not to exhibit his surprise. If he’d been more on the ball, he wouldn’t have asked the question he did ask. The Horde knew how Isaac and Show worked. They, too, would be surprised that he hadn’t been briefed ahead of time. He wondered if something else was going on.
But Bart spoke up and interrupted Show’s thoughts. “There’s already talk about casting for this thing.
And bloggers are doing their own digging. I’ve been keeping an eye out and controlling it. I’ve got our shit locked down tight, but I think we should call Rick in, too. When they get to the production stage, interest could blow up again.”
Rick Terrance was a friend and associate of Lilli’s. He was a top-level hacker, and he’d been invaluable in helping the Horde beat Lawrence Ellis and save Signal Bend. He’d been repaid with a position as Intelligence Officer for the mother charter of the Scorpions, the international MC and a hardcore outlaw club, with whom the Horde were allied.
“Call him. I heard they patched him on the day of his one-year anniversary as Prospect. I’ll call Sam, too, let him know what’s up.” Isaac shook his head. “We could be in serious shit if the attention Ellis brought down on us causes the Scorpions grief.”