Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

SEBASTIAN

I cannot fucking stand hospitals. The smells, the sounds, the feel of tape on my skin to hold needles in place. No part of this place is good with me. The only thing making it halfway survivable is Bristol being by my side. My girl is a trooper, that's for damn sure. She has stayed here for the last week and a half with me, not leaving for anything. She very seldomly leaves my room, much less the building and that's only when she has to or when Kendra comes and drags her downstairs to give her some semblance of a break.

The burns covering the left side of my body from one of the beams falling on me are the most painful fucking things I've ever experienced. The cleaning and scraping that has to be done every day has got to be somewhere high up on a list of most effective torture efforts or some shit. My tattoo sleeve on my left arm is fucked. Fire is one of the most effective ways to remove a tattoo.

I've never cried from pain in my life, until that first day a nurse came in and told me she had to scrape off the top layer of my scabs. The skin turned white and stayed soft, but still had to be scraped every day.

Bristol is at the nurse's station, getting my discharge papers in order and scheduling home visits with the nurses who will have to continue to scrape my burns until they're healed. The thought alone makes me want to throw up and gives me cold sweats.

I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for what's to come, but I know there is no preparing for this. Bristol's cheerful smiling face cuts through my worry and doubt like a hot knife through soft butter. Her hair is unkempt, tossed in a messy bun, and her eyes have dark shadows beneath them. Through it all, though, she lights up like a damn Christmas tree when she looks at me.

She grins and flashes me the paperwork.

"It's time!" she squeals.

"Fuck yeah. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

I stand up and slip on a pair of slippers that I've been rocking while I've been stuck here. All I want is an amazing shower, but these burns hurt too bad for anything to touch them right now. Sponge baths it is. I guess it won't be so bad if Bristol is the one giving them out.

God, what I want more than a shower is to be inside her. It's been weeks and I might spontaneously combust if she even looks at it, much less touches it. My dick hardens at the thought of release. If I don't focus on something else, the whole fucking hospital is going to know when I walk out with a whole tent in my goddamn pants.

Bristol walks around the side of the bed and grabs the bag of our dirty clothes from the last few days along with her backpack. She side-eyes me, glancing at my semi-hard on and smirks.

I shrug. "I thought about how bad I want to touch you and well… this happened. "

She smiles a sinister smile at me and shakes her head. "The feelings mutual, babe. Come on, let's roll."

We walk downstairs to the lobby and Bristol is texting while we wait.

"Who's coming to get us?" I ask.

"Reaper and Kendra."

"Of course they are."

The thought makes me smile. My brother. He hasn't been home since I've been in the hospital. He and Kendra rented out a house for a month just to be close to me. He somehow feels responsible which makes absolutely no fucking sense to me.

He hasn't come to visit much, but Kendra has been up here almost every day. A metallic candy apple red Mercedes pulls under the pickup area of the hospital and immediately I know that it's got to be Kendra's car. I had heard about the car Reaper bought her but I haven't seen it yet. It's fucking gorgeous.

Reaper gets out of the driver's seat and opens the passenger door for Kendra. She meets us between the lobby and the car, grabbing the bag of clothes from Bristol. Reaper waits patiently by the passenger door as we make our way outside. He holds the door open and does a bow, pointing his arm toward the seat.

"For you, kind sir," he says with a horrible British accent.

A full-on belly laugh erupts from my chest. Reaper shakes my hand and pulls me into a half-hug on the right side. I'm grateful he remembered what side was hurt because I may have dropped to my knees like a little bitch right here in front of God and everybody if he would've hit these burns.

I easily slide into the passenger seat and Reaper closes the door. Kendra and Bristol put their bags in the trunk and climb into the backseat. The drive back home is long and I cannot wait to get out of this car. It's comfortable for the most part and I'm thankful my burns are on the left side and not the right because my right side has been baking in the sun for most of the drive.

Bristol and Kendra seem to have bonded while I wasn't looking, and they sound like teenage girls gossiping in the backseat. I've tuned everything out for most of the ride, staring out the window on this sunny day, until I hear them talking about the tattoo shop.

"How's your healing been?" Kendra asks.

"Not bad, actually. Better than I thought it would be."

"Healing?" I ask, intrigued. I crane my neck over my shoulder, looking at her and waiting for her response.

"Yeah…" Bristol trails off.

"You got a tattoo while I was in the hospital?" I ask. I think back and it doesn't make any sense.

"What? No! I got a tattoo while you were gone. I just haven't found an opportunity to tell you between all the pain you've been in and resting up and everything that's happened. I finished my last session the morning after your accident. Kendra picked me up from the tattoo shop and drove me here."

"Session?" I have so many fucking questions.

She grins. "You'll see."

I sigh. She isn't going to tell me anything else.

Reaper chuckles beside me, wearing that smug fucking smile on his face. I flip him the bird and rest my arm on the door. The ladies laugh it off in the back seat and I've never been more thrilled to see the Gulfport exit on the interstate in my life.

Reaper drops us off at my apartment and I've never dreaded climbing three flights of stairs the way I do right now. My arm and side are throbbing so bad by the time I finally make it inside. Bristol carried everything upstairs like a champ. I barely managed to get myself up here. It's debilitating. I can already tell that I'm not going to do well with the physical restraints that come with healing.

I'm sweating bullets and my skin feels clammy.

"I think I'm going to go lay down for a bit," I tell her as she closes the door and locks it.

"Okay. Want some company?" She asks, raising her brows at me.

"I'm going to try and get a nap. I'm hurting."

She nods but doesn't say anything. Shit. Did I hurt her feelings? I hope not. I want her. But this shit is painful and I need it to feel better.

Bristol rummages through her backpack and pulls out a bottle of pills.

"Here, love. They prescribed you these for the pain," she says, handing me a pill from the bottle.

"Thank you, baby." I toss the pill back and swallow it. I wince as it dryly goes down my throat.

"How the fuck did you just do that?" She asks, her eyes wide.

"Do what?"

"Take that pill with nothing to drink."

I shrug. "I don't know. I just do it."

"That's fucking weird. Who does that?"

I laugh. "I do."

She shakes her head and walks away to the kitchen. I make my way to my bed and gently ease onto my side. It's weird because I sleep best on my left side, but I'm forced to stay on my right or my back and even my back isn't as comfortable because some of the burns on my side wrap around to my back. It takes about thirty minutes for that pain pill to kick in and when it does, I'm lulled to sleep.

I sleep soundly for the first time since the explosion. No nightmares. No waking up screaming. No waking up in immense pain. When I finally wake up, I bolt upright scanning the room. It's eerily quiet and I don't know if it feels that way because I've been so used to sleeping in the hospital with machines beeping or what, but something feels weird.

I get up and walk softly through the room and into the living room. Bristol is asleep on the couch and the tv is playing music at a very low volume. She looks like an angel. My perfect fucking angel. I let her sleep and mosey into the kitchen. I open the fridge and there's nothing in the damned thing. I look around and realize someone's cleaned up. Someone's cleaned up everything.

The apartment is spotless. Bristol was busy while I was asleep. No one else has a key and she's been with me the whole time I've been gone so through process of elimination, she's the cleaning bandit. I smile to myself and go to reach for my phone before realizing I don't have one. Mine died in a fire. A fire that could have killed me. Probably should have killed me, if I'm being honest.

I have so many things that I feel like I need to be doing. I need to go tomorrow and get a phone. I still haven't even seen Bristol's tattoo, nor do I know how things ended up with Mack and the life insurance money. I have missed so much; I have no fucking idea how the search for Patrick is going. And the kids. I know I got them out, but I don't know what happened after that. If I had a phone…

I glance over at Bristol sleeping and her phone on the couch next to her. I contemplate it for a second but decide against it. Her privacy has been violated the last few years. How shitty would I be if I added to that? I'll just wait for her to wake up. As much as I've slept, I still feel like I could sleep more. It's dark outside and the clock on the wall tells me it's ten after eight .

I ponder what day of the week it is. Wednesday? No. Tuesday. The clubhouse is open to the public tonight for our weekly bike night. It's something new the guys are trying out.

I walk to my room and grab a pen and paper from the nightstand. I write out a note to Bristol letting her know I'm going to the clubhouse, and I'll text her from someone's phone once I get there. I hate to leave her sleeping, but I am dying to get out and do something and I know she's been so tired staying at the hospital with me. I ponder on it for a moment and ditch the pen and paper. I am not leaving her. Besides, I've been dying to taste her and it's been too fucking long.

She's nestled into the arm of the couch, sleeping so sound that I almost feel bad about what I'm about to do.

Almost.

She's wearing a plain tee and a pair of black shorts that I don't remember seeing before. I slip them slowly down her thighs with her underwear. She stirs beneath my touch, but her eyes are still closed. I pull her shorts and underwear off of her legs and spread her knees, her perfect fucking pussy staring back at me. I slip a finger over her wet slit, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. Her eyes flutter open, sleep ridden as they lock on mine. I grin at her and dip a finger inside her. Her eyes close and her brows furrow as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Her back arches and I replace my finger with my tongue.

She tastes like fucking heaven. God I fucking missed this. I suckle her clit into my mouth and ease my finger inside her. Her hand fists into my hair, willing me to move faster. I slip a second digit inside and her breathing quickens. The soft moans that fall from her lips have me hard as a fucking rock and it's taking everything in me not to fuck her right now. I want to be so deep in her that I can't see straight.

I slow down, gliding my tongue over her clit softly. Bristol bucks her hips against my mouth and I can't take it anymore. Normally, I'd be here until I came up looking like a glazed donut but I can't wait another fucking second.

I stop abruptly and Bristol's eyes bolt open. They're wild and lustful and the most beautiful fucking sight. I sit up onto my knees, my face even with hers. She wraps her hands around my neck and her lips meet mine. Passionately. Hungry.

I push my shorts down, freeing my length. I press against her entrance and slip inside her slowly, inch by inch. She slows our kiss but doesn't break it. I swear I'm going to fucking come right now before we even get started. Her pussy clenches and I almost lose control. I pull her knees between us, pressing them against her chest.

"Oh, fuck…" I grunt, moving faster inside her.

" Yessss !" She moans.

"I fucking missed you," I whisper, pounding into her.

"Yes, baby. Show me how much you missed me," she cries.

I reach beneath her shirt, cupping her breast in my hand. She grips at her shirt, pulling it over her head. Revealing her perfect fucking titties to me. I suck the other into my mouth, nipping at her pebbled nipple. I roll the other one between my thumb and finger while I flick my tongue over the one in my mouth. It's a sensation overload. I want it all. All of her.

"Bash," she whimpers.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Bend me over."

She doesn't have to tell me twice. I flip her over and stop as I take in the sight before me. Her entire fucking back is covered in the most beautiful tattoo. Her body shakes with a giggle, whipping me back to the moment.

"Holy fuck, baby."

She glances at me over her shoulder. "You like it?"

"I fucking love it."

I slam into her, earning me a breathy gasp. She's so goddamn wet for me. I slide in and out effortlessly, her sweet cunt drawing my orgasm closer with every stroke. I grip her hips, pounding hard. She clenches around me and I come undone, emptying myself inside her. She's still coming around me after I'm done. I move slowly, dragging her orgasm from her in waves. Every time I draw back and ease back in, she clenches around me again.

She reaches a hand around to tap my arm and she taps the wrong one. I yelp and fall back. She immediately turns around, her cheeks reddening already.

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay, baby. I'm okay," I say, holding up a hand for her to just give me a minute.

The stinging that's left in the wake of where she tapped my arm feels like bees stinging me continuously in one spot. The sweat that gathered on my skin in the midst of our rendezvous has started to burn my ribs.

Bristol looks at me helplessly from the couch and I smile at her the best I can. I don't want her to know that this shit hurts.

She gets up and kisses my forehead before disappearing into our room. She comes back a few moments later with a wet washcloth. She very gently cleans me up, making sure she doesn't touch any of my burnt skin in the process.

I stare at her beautiful body as she walks away, taking in the massive tattoo that covers her back now. That's going to take some getting used to. Who the fuck gets a whole back piece for their first tattoo ?

She comes back into the living room and puts her clothes back on. I stand and pull my shorts on then sit next to her on the couch. I reach to pull her into my side and she hesitates, staring at me.

"It's okay, baby. This is my good side."

She leans into me softly, almost as if she doesn't trust that this side is okay either. I laugh at her hesitation, but I also appreciate it.

"So, tell me about this tattoo."

"There isn't a lot to tell. It took three sessions, and I went to Kendra's tattoo guy. She brought me every time and she even got some new ink while we were there, too."

"It's sexy as hell."

"Thank you."

"What else happened while I was gone?"

She presses a finger to her chin and looks up as if she's pondering in deep thought.

" Hmm . Let me think. I became an almost-millionaire. All of my money is cleared in my bank account and now I'm your sugar mama," she nudges her shoulder into my side and raises her brows twice at me.

"Oh, hell yeah. I've never had one of those before. Does that count as a first?"

She rolls her eyes. "If you've never had one, then you're damn right it counts."

"Anything else?"

She shakes her head. "Nope. That's about it. Kendra picked me up from my last session and brought me to you and I've been with you since. So, you want to tell me what happened?"

" Ahh . Well…" I trail off, trying to think of what to say.

"I know some of it. Reaper said you were trying to track down Patrick and an explosion went off and you saved some innocent people but got trapped in the basement because of, and I quote, ‘his wide ass fucking shoulders'."

I laugh at Reaper's words. Asshole.

"That's pretty much it."

She eyes me curiously, goes to say something, but stops.

"Okay."

I don't press to ask what she was going to say. If she's accepting what I told her, I'm not pushing the issue.

"It's bike night tonight. I was going to roll out and head there by myself because I wasn't going to wake you, but I decided that was rude and I didn't want to spend another second away from you right now."

"We can go. I was texting Kendra earlier and most of the ol'ladies are going to be there so I'll be entertained while you go catch up with the guys."

"You know me so well."

She grins and pops up off the couch. "I'm just getting started."

I pop her on the ass as she goes to walk away. She throws a pretend-angry glance over her shoulder before she heads to the bedroom to get ready. I follow her and pull on a pair of blue jeans and change shirts. My wound care nurse will be here tomorrow at ten in the morning to torture me then change my bandages.

Bristol takes a total of five minutes to go from comfy on the couch to looking like she's going to dinner at a five-star restaurant. Well. Maybe not in a low-cut V-neck and black ripped jeans, but you get the point. Her cleavage is amazing and I want to rip her clothes off and fuck her again right now. I opt out of it because we have shit to do, but God damn, do I want to.

"Are you undressing me with your eyes, Sebastian?" She asks, stepping closer to me. She drags a finger from my chest down to my waistline and chills cover my body from her touch.

"I am," I say, my voice cracking.

"Good. Keep that energy when we get back home."

She turns on her heel and leads me out the house. I drive us to the clubhouse and am surprised to find it mostly dead. I guess we will have to get the word out a little more about being open to the public every Tuesday.

Bristol heads to the living room with Kendra and Loretta while I find Mikey, Joey, and Reaper sitting at the bar. Bosco is behind the bar, and there are two independent riders that come out to most of our functions sitting next to Mikey.

"There he is!" Joey cheers when I walk in.

I flip him off then pat him on the back as I walk by.

"Hey, Prez."

"I would hug ya, but I ain't trying to hurt ya. You been hurt enough from what I hear."

"It's much appreciated."

I wave at Mikey down the bar who looks like he's been here for a while. I sit at the open barstool on Reaper's left, sandwiching him between Joey and me.

"Hey, fucker," he smiles, patting me on the back.

"Hey, fucker," I shoot back.

"Got a new lead to tell you about. I tried to call you, but I guess your phone died in the fire."

I nod. "It did. I was going to go tomorrow to get a new one. It's so strange not having one. I feel like I'm missing something at all times of the day. It's fucked up how dependent we are on those little rectangles."

"You're telling me. But they are pretty convenient. For instance, in cases like these," he says, flipping his phone in my direction to see.

There's a photo on the screen of a man that's been beaten, gagged, and bound. I recognize the scenery. Reaper's torture chamber. That's what I call the sound-proof hideaway in his shop that he uses for this type of shit.

"Who's that?"

"That, my brother, is the man you've been waiting to get your hands on."

Patrick.