Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Bama

"What's got you all riled up?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. My heart drums louder than the engines in the garage. "Is it just about me talkin' to them about what happened at the bar?"

She doesn't answer right away, just crosses her arms and leans back, her gaze never leaving mine.

It's like she's measuring me, deciding if she's going to speak at all.

"Jordyn," I say again, softer this time. "Come on, tell me."

The corners of her mouth twitch, not quite a smile, but close enough that I can see the humor fighting through the anger. "You should have at least had the decency to give me a heads-up, Bama," she snaps. "Talking to Blackjack and Zane about the bar? You know how they are. And now my dads know about us."

"Why's that a problem? The cat was gonna come out of the bag at some point or another." I ask, genuinely confused.

The club is family. Family is going to end up knowing about things like this.

"Because," she bites out, leaning forward, eyes blazing darker. "I have a good relationship with them. Part of that is being honest, upfront. Now it looks like I was hiding something." Her voice rises, raw and edged. "Not all of us had shitty parents we didn't communicate with."

"Whoa," I say, taken aback.

Her words hit like a sucker punch, knocking the wind out of me.

I reach for my beer, needing something to ground me.

The cold liquid slides down my throat, but it does nothing to wash away the sting of her words.

"That one burned, Jordyn," I say, licking my lips.

Her eyes soften immediately, regret seeping in.

"Sorry," she murmurs, shutting her eyes. "I shouldn't have said that last part. I just hate when things happen without me knowing. Makes me feel like . . . like I don't matter."

"Jordyn, listen," I start, leaning forward. "When it comes to club business, I have to tell Zane and Blackjack. I know you understand that more than anyone. If Blake wasn't mixed up in this, I wouldn't have said jack shit."

She nods slowly, understanding dawning behind the storm in her eyes. "Yeah, I get it," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just . . . frustrated."

"Jordyn," I say, reaching out for her hand, "I know you are, but you more than anyone should understand why I did what I did."

I'm not trying to use this as an excuse, but I want her to know there wasn't any malice or ill intent in my decision.

"Yeah, you're right." she mutters, swallowing hard.

Then she stands and walks away, leaving me at the table.

I don't know if I should follow her or give her space.

"Everything all right, Bama?" Rosa's voice cuts through my dilemma.

She stands beside me, concern etched on her face.

"I think so," I reply, running a hand through my hair. "Just gonna give her some time to cool off."

Hours pass, and I can't help but feel like I need to track her down and talk to her.

I hop on a four-wheeler, heading toward the lake by Blackjack and Ashley's house.

The sun dips low, casting an orange glow over the water. It's so picturesque it looks like it should be on a post card.

There she is, sitting by the shore, feet dipped in the cool water.

I kill the engine and walk over, the crunch of gravel under my boots the only sound.

"Hey," I say softly, sliding down next to her.

"Jordyn," I murmur, wrapping an arm around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. Her skin is warm, soft, and for a second, everything feels right again.

She finally turns to look at me, those caramel-highlighted strands of hair framing her face.

There's hurt in her eyes, but also something else. Something softer.

"I needed some air," she says quietly. "Needed to think about stuff."

"Yeah, I get that." My voice is low, matching the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. "I'm sorry. I wasn't tying to be an asshole earlier."

"Me too," she whispers, leaning into my touch, and I feel some of the weight lift off my chest.

"Look, babe," I start, my voice rough with emotion, "I didn't mean for things to go down like this. When it comes to club business, I have to tell Zane and Blackjack. If Blake wasn't directly in the middle of some club shit, I wouldn't have told them shit, and I mean that."

She nods, her eyes softening a bit. "I know, Bama. Trust me, I do. It's just . . . I hate when things are done without me knowing, or in a way that reflects badly on me."

I shake my head, "This doesn't reflect badly on you, babe, trust me."

She swallows hard, her eyes flickering away from mine. A moment of silence, then she adds, "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I shouldn't have brought up your parents. That was a really low blow, and I'm not proud of it."

"Hey, it's okay," I tell her, squeezing her shoulder. "We both said some shit. Let's just forget about it, and move on, okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," she murmurs, but there's still something in her eyes, something unresolved.

"Come here," I say, pulling her closer until our faces are inches apart.

Her breath is warm against my lips, and suddenly, all the tension melts away.

There's only her, only us. What we said earlier doesn't matter, and the only thing that does is proving how much I care.

I press my lips to hers, gently at first, then harder.

She responds instantly, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.

The world around us blurs, leaving nothing but the heat between us.

"God, I missed you," she breathes against my lips, her voice trembling.

"I missed you too," I murmur, trailing kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my touch.

Her hands roam over my chest, fingers tracing the lines of my tattoo.

I shiver under her touch, my own hands slipping under her shirt, exploring the smooth skin underneath.

"Jordyn," I groan, my voice thick with desire. "God, you have no idea how much I always need you."

"Then take me, Bama. I'm yours." she whispers, her eyes locking onto mine, filled with a fiery need.

We begin peeling each other's clothes off, tossing them randomly as we unite our bodies.

Her fingers trace my tattoos, nails scraping lightly against my chest.

A low growl escapes from deep within me, the warmth of her touch sending a shockwave through my system.

Each stroke of her fingers is a reminder of the connection between us. Something that runs deeper than blood and leather.

"Jordyn," I groan, running my hands up the small of her back.

She arches against me, her skin warm and inviting, intoxicating.

I lower my head, capturing her lips with mine again. The taste of her tongue is like a shot of whiskey—potent and burns just right.

She pulls me closer, wrapping her legs around my waist as we tumble down onto the grass by the water's edge. I hit the ground first, cushioning her fall.

We're bare under the open sky, bodies slick with sweat and desire.

There's an urgency to our movements, a desperation born out of words unsaid.

I revel in every gasp she makes, loving the way I can make her come undone in a moment's notice.

Her body clings to mine like a second skin, our bodies fitting perfectly together.

My fingers trace the outline of the skull and roses on her back, feeling the fine lines of ink under my touch.

"Bama," she whispers, her voice shaky as I push into her over and over again. She wraps her legs tighter around me, a gasp escaping her lips. "God, Bama!"

I can barely hear her over the pounding in my ears—it's a symphony of desire, of want, and I'm drowning in it.

"Babe," I groan out, pressing my forehead against hers. Her eyes flutter open to look into mine and for a moment, everything else just fades away. It's just me and Jordyn by the water, lost in each other.

There's a fire in her eyes that matches the one raging within me.

She rakes her nails down my back, pulling me closer and closer until there's no space left between us.

Each thrust is like a promise, a reassurance, a vow that we'll always be here for each other.

I feel her body tighten around mine, telling me she's close, so damn close.

I keep up the rhythm, pushing her over the edge and then following right after her.

We both let out strangled cries, our bodies convulsing together in the throws of pleasure.

Slowly, we come down from the high. The world sways gently around us, our hearts pounding in sync.

I leave a trail of kisses down her neck and shoulders as she plays with my hair, her fingers gently untangling the sweaty curls.

I hold her closer, feeling her heart beating against my chest. She's panting lightly onto my skin, a light sheen of sweat making her glow under the faint moonlight.

"We good?" I ask quietly, looking into those beautiful eyes that hold a whole universe within them.

She takes a moment before answering, her gaze roving over my face as if memorizing every inch. "Yeah, Bama. We're good. We're always good, even if we're fighting."

She closes in the distance and presses a passionate kiss to my lips.