Page 29 of Christmas Wish
Chapter Nine
Brutus’s cold nosepressed against Ryder’s face, and he groaned as he cracked open his eyes. The dog’s soft whine prompted Ryder to throw off the covers and push up. His good leg bumped into something warm and soft, and when he looked over his shoulder, his eyes widened as his body went stiff.
“What the fuck?” he said under his breath as he stared at Savannah sleeping peacefully beside him. He sat up, closed his eyes for a minute and then slowly opened them, expecting Savannah to be gone, but she wasn’t. The sheet draped around her tempting curves, and the way her sweet lips parted enticed him to slip his tongue inside for a taste.
Shaking his head, he tried to figure out how the hell Savannah had landed in his bed. There was no way he wouldn’t have remembered fucking her. The kiss they’d shared was still etched on his lips, so he was pretty sure slamming his cock inside her while he played with her tits wouldn’t be something he’d forget.
Several whimpers from Brutus focused Ryder. He grabbed his crutches and hauled himself up, then he left the room.
A blast of cold air gushed in when he opened the door to let Brutus out. After closing it quickly, he crutched into the kitchen and leaned forward against the granite counter. The sun’s rays bouncing off the snow made him squint as visions of Savannah swirled in his head: her arms wrapped around him as they kissed, the sliver of skin when she raised her arms, the way her shorts rode up and showed off her thighs, and her soft lips alternately sweet and wicked on his. His dick twitched against his boxers and he cursed softly.If I can’t remember fucking her, then I might as well pack it in. We must’ve done something ’cause there’s no way she would’ve come into my room for nothing. I can’t remember shit when I take those damn pain meds. Fuck!
For the past week, Ryder had been jerking off to various scenarios that starred Savannah and him fucking in a variety of ways, and to think it might have happened without him remembering was a cruel kick in his balls.
As he shut his eyes against the sun’s glare, blurred memories from the previous night started to come into focus: his unit in Afghanistan engaging in combat against militants, driving the sonsofbitches farther back in the province … the firing ceasing … he and several men cautiously moving in to clear the cluster of old Afghani houses … Jeremy following.
“Fuck!” Ryder hit the side of his head with the heel of his palm. Recollections of Savannah’s soft, comforting words pulling him out of the war filled his mind.She must’ve heard me screaming. That’s why she came to my bed. Dammit!He’d been trying so fucking hard to control the demons that lurked inside him, never wanting her to see the times they clawed their way out. Since Savannah and Timmy had come to stay with him, Ryder had been so careful to thwart any triggers that would threaten to expose how fucked up he was, but he’d failed.I probably scared the shit outta her.Then he remembered her soft hands on his face and the way she held him until he fell asleep.
Brutus barked at the back door, and Ryder hopped over to let him in. He grabbed the towel off the hook, then sank down on the bench and dried the dog off before heading back to the kitchen to fill Brutus’s bowl with dried food. The room echoed with the dog’s teeth crunching noisily as dread wove around his ragged nerves.What if she pities me after last night’s fucking display?The one thing he hated was pity, and if he saw that look in Savannah’s eyes, it would crush him for sure.Why the hell did I have to lose it last night?
The landline rang, stopping his thoughts as he hopped over to the wall and picked up the receiver.
“Hey, dude. Rags and me are gonna come by and dig you out,” Throttle said.
“It’s about fucking time,” Ryder replied, plopping down on the chair.
Throttle laughed. “Did you run outta whiskey?”
“Believe it or not, I didn’t.”
“What the fuck, bro?”
“Been busy with stuff. What time are you guys coming by?”
“In an hour or so. We’ll use two of our big-ass snowplows, so you should be able to take your four-wheeler out after we’re done. Hawk and Animal are gonna come by and help out with the shoveling. Should we bring some Jack?”
“Yeah. I only have moonshine whiskey.”
“Tom’s?”
“Yep. It’s all right in a pinch, but I miss the good stuff. I’ll feed you fuckers. Chili okay?”
“Hell, yeah. Besides Jax’s old lady, you make the best fuckin’ chili.”
“I heard Cherri’s is kickass. I’ll have to try it sometime,” Ryder said.
“You gotta get in on poker nights when Jax hosts. That’s when she makes it, and she always serves it with homemade cornbread. Fuck, it’s good,” Throttle replied.
Ryder heard a woman talking in the background, and he shook his head. It was still surreal for him to picture Throttle with an old lady. The man was a confirmed bachelor and loved the perks of hooking up with his choice of the many wild women who were so much a part of the outlaw biker lifestyle. If he’d taken bets on which of the Insurgents’ brothers would never be tied down to one woman, Hawk and Throttle would’ve come to mind right off the bat, and Ryder would’ve lost the bet big time. His two brothers were both married, and Hawk even had a couple of kids. All at once, loneliness and a deep longing for something he couldn’t articulate seized him, and he sputtered and coughed from the intensity of it.
“You okay?” Concern laced Throttle’s voice.
“Yeah. Just swallowed funny. Is that your old lady talking to you?”
Throttle chuckled. “Yep. Kimber has a habit of talking to me when I’m on the fuckin’ phone. Let me hang up and see what she wants. I’ll see you in a bit, bro.”
Ryder held the receiver in his hand for several minutes before placing it back in its cradle. For the last few years he’d relished his solitude, but since Savannah and her son had entered his life, feelings and thoughts he hadn’t had for a very long time started poking at him, and he didn’t like it. Having them around dredged up bad memories he’d long since quashed, or so he thought.
Brutus barked and Ryder jerked his head up to glance in the direction at which the dog was looking. Timmy’s pajama-clad body hugged the doorway, and his messy mop of dark hair and sprinkle of freckles across his nose and cheeks reminded Ryder of Colt when he’d been about Timmy’s age. Ryder’s heart squeezed in his chest as he pushed himself up. “Where’s your leg?” Timmy asked in a low voice, his eyes bulging.
