"I'll wait."
Those were the last words he spoke to her and he damn right meant them.
Runner fell for the wild beauty that was dragged in by the Riders from the first moment he laid her eyes on her. She was an enemy of the club and he shouldn't but...
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Warning: A hot, steamy chapter just to get the blood pumping.
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Magdalene
I never thought that I'd ever need an alarm clock. I was always sleeping few hours each night, the nightmares and visions coming in sooner or later to claim my sleep. But ever since I moved in with Runner, I've been sleeping deeply and undisturbed as if I am making up for all the sleepless nights.
I open my eyes and I am alone in the room. Without thinking I touch his pillow longingly. But it's empty and suddenly my heart is too. I close my eyes and I dip my nose in the pillow to take in his smell. It is overwhelming the way I feel about him the more time we spend together. I can claim it is nothing but a good and sexy way to pass the time but now I notice more than his ripped abs or the delicious way his beard chuffs my thighs.
I see how heartily he does everything. He drinks in big gulps, he eats in big bites, he always has a minute to spare for everyone, even the hang-arounds. He always checks upon Rage even now that he has Iris. And he is so caring to me. He not only makes sure I go to bed satisfied and sated, he protects me from everyone looking my way, he anticipates my little needs and fulfills them. Runner is perfect.
"Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out," I say softly into the pillow. "My beloved."
I close my eyes tightly together and swallow the tears and panic coming over. There is a light, ethereal chain that is wrapped around my heart and keeps it beating. Runner holds the end of it and if it snaps, I don't think my heart will ever function properly, not ever again.
And all I've been doing is yanking that chain violently. I am not the one to make him happy. This is new and now I am calm. But then the anger will come, the restlessness, the itching to go, to leave, to get in trouble, to feel pain, to inflict pain. I am not worthy to be his.
With that thought, I get up and throw my feet on the floor. And then I see on the nightstand a note. "Breakfast in bed. Stay put."
"Runner," I let my fingers over his round letters.
I sigh and I get up to have a shower. If he wants to have breakfast in bed, I am guessing there'll be more on the menu than food.
Minutes after I am out, my body and hair wrapped in towels and that's when I see him sprawled on the bed only in his tight briefs, one hand under his head, the other going lazily over his chest. Mother Mary, mercy on your daughter! I could have a thousand lives and still, I would never tire of looking at him. When he notices I am out, he turns to me and his look turns deep, hungry.
"Come here," he asks.
With shaky knees, I follow his command. He sits on the bed and turns to me. His arms hug me around the waist and he lets his head rest on my belly. This is not a touch of desire. It is a soft, needing touch. He breathes heavily and tightens his grip and my heart tightens with it. He wants me to stay. From the first moment he saw me, he knew what his heart desired: for me to stay. He had told me over and over again. But I can't.
