Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
"We have a busy day tomorrow, and you need to be ready to work your magic." The side of his mouth quirked up in a small, almost sweet smile that contrasted with the hardened edges of him. "Can I stay here tonight? Just to sleep," he added quickly, noticing the shift in my expression.
"I don’t know if that’s safe," I muttered, avoiding his gaze. I wasn’t worried about him—I was worried about me. If he knew just how deep my damage ran, would he still look at me the same way?
I wasn’t oblivious. I knew Jagger and the rest of the MC had likely pieced together parts of my past. Specifically, my childhood and the things I had endured. Hell, if I heard similar things about one of my teammates, I’d recognize the scars they carried. But that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg when it came to my issues. No one came out of my line of work unscathed. The sad reality was, no military personnel did.
“I swear, I just want to build this,” he said, gesturing between us. “I’ve never had anything like this before, and I want to do it right.”
I swallowed hard. I appreciated what he was saying, really, but fuck, I was going to have to tell him.
“I get— I have problems when I sleep.”
His brows furrowed slightly. “How do you mean?”
Walking over to the bed, I sat on the edge, staring at the floor. I didn’t do this. My team already knew, they didn’t need explanations and never had. Unless it affected my ability to do my job, I never had to explain myself to anyone. This was so fucking hard.
“I get nightmares,” I admitted, still staring at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. I didn’t want to see pity. I hated pity.
My nightmares weren’t just about missions or the shit I’d seen in combat. They were also about the things that came before.
Jagger’s boots came into my line of sight, and then he squatted in front of me, his hands lifting to cup my face, forcing me to look at him.
“That’s understandable,” he said, his tone even, steady. “Duke showed us some of the shit y’all have had to do. And we’ve seen the footage from your time away. I get it.”
He said it so easily, like it wasn’t a big deal, but I knew better. We’d see, because sometimes, my reactions weren’t just thrashing or waking up in a cold sweat. Sometimes, they were violent.
Jagger studied me, something unreadable in his expression. “Is it just about that? Or is it about…you know?”
My whole body went rigid.
I could admit it to myself. And I was sure the guys knew that I had nightmares about her. But I wasn’t going to lay that shit bare for him.
Whatever he saw on my face made his mouth firm into a hard line. He nodded once, pushing to his feet, then held out his hand. “Let’s do this.”
I hesitated but eventually took his hand, leading him around to my side of the bed while he stripped down to his boxers. I wasn’t bashful. I had spent enough time around men, in situations where dignity and pride had to take a backseat to getting changed or cleaned up. But this was different.
Because it was him.
As he pulled off his shirt, my eyes traced the ink covering his chest and shoulders. I knew his back bore the club’s patch, a permanent declaration of his loyalty. He was built solid, something I’d already gathered during today’s workout. But seeing him like this, muscles shifting under his skin, was an entirely different experience.
Once we were both settled, I decided to lay down some ground rules.
“I don’t spoon,” I warned. “If I wake up and you’re in my personal space, I will cause you pain.”
Jagger rolled over, turning off the light before shifting behind me with a sleepy sigh. “What?”
“Spooning,” I deadpanned. “Where your body heat melts the skin off my back, and I wake up thinking I’m burning alive.”
He snorted, then, to my horror, moved closer, pressing his chest against my back.
“So noted,” he murmured, amusement clear in his voice. “Just so you know, I’ve never actually slept with a woman before. I’m a solo sleeper. Well, unless you count that time me and Gauge got wrecked and woke up where we’d passed out…fucking spooning.”
I burst out laughing, unable to stop the mental image of Gauge, the massive beast of a man, wrapped around Jagger like a teddy bear.
“Photos?” I asked between laughs.
“What do you think?” he drawled.
Oh, there were photos.
MC members could act like aggressive assholes all they wanted, but no way in hell would they pass up an opportunity to capture a moment like that. I had to find them.
“Sleep, baby,” Jagger murmured. His voice was softer now, a little heavier with exhaustion.