Free Reapers and Bastards: A Reapers MC Anthology by Joanna Wylde Page B

his wad on my stomach as thefireworks were still exploding in my head.
    Then he shifted, rolling us to our sides and tugging me onto his body, rubbing one hand through my hair as the noises around us faded. It was just me and him, joined in our own private world.
    You’d think the adrenaline would’ve kept me up all night, but apparently it wasn’t enough to overpower the sex and the booze. At some point I drifted off, despite the lights and the noise.
    Boonie woke me with a kiss, raising one knee up between my legs as I squirmed against him restlessly.
    Then a branch poked my ass and I remembered where we were.
    “What the hell was that all about?” I asked, my voice a soft whisper.
    “I think it was a riot. Although I still can’t quite figure out how it started. Never heard of one around here before.”
    I shivered, and he tightened his arms around me, rubbing up and down my back.
    “That’s pretty fucked up.”
    “No shit,” he said, then distracted me with another kiss. I pushed back against his leg, realizing my skirt was still up around my waist.
    Slutty, much?
    “Um . . . I’m not sure—” I started to say, but he cut me off.
    “Don’t think about it too much. Not gonna end well for either of us. Just consider this—every time we’ve gotten together, some big disaster hits. This time it missed us. Maybe that means we’re home free.”
    I frowned at him, flinching as pain shot through my skull.
    “Hangover?” he asked. I nodded. “You need some coffee and some food.”
    “And a shower.”
    “Great,” he said. “We’ve got all of that at my friend’s place. It’s not far—will take us about ten minutes to walk there.”
    There are walks of shame, and Walks of Shame. I think when you come dragging in after a riot, covered in dirt, leaves, and dried come, you qualify for capital letters by default. We saw a few police cars along the way, but things seemed to be settling down. Early light traced the sky. If I hadn’t known better, I’d never have guessed there’d been people fighting in the streets just hours before.
    His friend’s place was just an apartment over a garage. When we walked in, the first thing I saw was Kelly asleep on the couch. Well, she was on top of a man on the couch—the same man who’d helped rescue us from the crowd.
    He opened his eyes briefly, then closed them again. More people slept in the bedroom, but at least the bathroom was empty. I followed Boonie through the wooden door, then frowned when he reached for his leather cut.
    “Maybe we should shower separately?”
    He shook his head.
    “No way. Took me long enough to pin you down. I let you out of my sight you might go marry someone else.”
    I think he meant it as a joke, but I frowned.
    “Boonie, I was serious when I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship. The divorce isn’t even final yet—I can’t handle anything new.”
    He pulled off his leather, hanging it carefully on a hook. Then he reached for the edges of his shirt.
    “I get that,” he said, tugging it over his head. The sight of his bare chest caught me. Damn, this man was beautiful . . . “But what we have between us isn’t new, Darce. It’s always been here. I had to walk away twice. I won’t do it again.”
    He was right. There really had always been something between us, and not just when it came to sex. As children he’d always protected me . . . well, protected me from everyone but himself. He’d fought Farell for me, and even when he’d stopped returning my letters, he’d thought he was doing it for my benefit.
    This wasn’t new at all.
    “I’m not willing to give up what I have,” I insisted, refusing to roll over. I’d had my fill of that with Farell. “My whole life I’ve had to live for other people. This is my time. I’m not willing to let that go, not even for you.”
    “Does having ‘your time’ involve you fucking guys who aren’t me?”
    I rubbed my stomach, a thrill running through me at the memory or