I turned and Belle was two inches from me.
“Whoa,” I said. “Careful sneaking up on me like that.”
“Why? You going to shoot me?”
I grinned. “You never know, sweetie.”
“You were shot,” Belle pointed out again. “For real.”
“Wasn’t the first time,” I said. “Won’t be the last time either.”
“Let me patch you up, Duke. That looks like a lot of blood.”
I knew what I needed to do. Head to the fucking front door and be gone. Never come back to the house ever again. I didn’t know why I came to begin with.
Fuck that, man, you know why.
Yeah, right.
To see Belle. To see what she looked like. I used to joke with her and tell her that since her name meant beautiful, she had a lot to live up to. This was back in her pre-pubescent days, when her hair was weird and greasy, her face pimply, her body awkwardly changing. Amazing how those few years I had over her felt like a lifetime then but didn’t matter later in life. I was the cool bad boy that smoked, had a motorcycle, and slept through school. And my eyes looked to her…
Fuck.
Belle put her hand into mine. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”
“Oh, I’ve heard that before,” I said with a wink.
Her cheeks were suddenly blasted apple red.
She took her hand from mine.
She started to walk and I followed.
I was known for making some really bad decisions. Hell, it was part of my charm.
So when I moved by the front door, turning to go up the stairs, I looked back and grinned. Then I looked forward at Belle’s ass as she walked.
I met her as a girl, loved her as a young woman, but right then, I was staring at a real woman. And she was in the presence of an outlaw.
That was dangerous.
ten
(belle)
It wasn’t until I hit the top step that I realized I had invited Duke upstairs. In my house. It was just years ago I had to sneak Duke around, desperate to save up enough money to get my first apartment so I could have Duke over anytime I wanted.
I paused at the top of the steps and felt Duke right behind me. My body shivered, ached, and a rush of heat exploded through me. It was so sudden and so striking that my toes started to curl. The truth was that it wasn’t only Maggie going through a tough breakup. I had been with a guy that I forced myself to assume was the one. Everything about the relationship was convenient and right. I was in nursing school, he was in law school. Our dream was to have a big house, a big yard, a big family. I had no real idea how a nurse and a lawyer would have the time to have a family, but that didn’t matter then.
I hadn’t been with anyone since my ex. And that was…
“Everything okay?” Duke asked.
“Yeah,” I said, swallowing.
I led the way to the bathroom and flicked on the light.
It wasn’t the first time me and Duke were in the bathroom together. The last time was much riskier. I couldn’t even look at the shower.
“Sit down. Let me see what I have here.”
I opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a large first-aid kit. I heard a noise and turned my head just in time to see Duke undressing himself. My hands clutched the first aid kit tighter as he tossed his leather cut to the floor. Then with one hand he ripped his dirty white t-shirt off and dropped that to the floor.
I should have looked at his shoulder, you know, where he was bleeding from.
Instead, my eyes took an obvious walk along the perfectly cut muscles that grazed his outlaw man body. He had been hot when we were younger; well-earned muscles and a lean body. I could hug him and my hands could easily touch. But as I stared at this man - this hulk - I wasn’t sure if hands could fit around him. Everything was so beautifully filled out. From his chest to his stomach muscles, to muscles on the sides of his body, lines that made a V shape, cutting down into his jeans. Oh, and his arms. Fuck, his arms. They should have been illegal. Round shoulders that gave way to cuts of triceps and biceps, even his forearms were rippled. His hands were as big as ever, but definitely stronger. Duke made fists, veins popping out of his fingers and hands, rushing up his arms, twisting, turning, colliding like roots in the ground that held up a monster tree.
Only this was a monster of a man.
My lips fluttered as I stood up.
Duke sat down.
He had a white patch on his shoulder, covered in blood. I went to touch him but pulled back.
I looked down at Duke.
“What?” he asked.
“I have to ask something.”
“Shoot.”
“Are you… clean?”
“Clean? Like… did I shower?”
“No, Duke. Clean. If I touch your blood…”
“Oh,” he said. “Yes, sweetie, I’m clean. When I fuck whores, I wear a condom. And I never share my drug needles. Ever.”
I wasn’t sure what was true and false there, but I let it go.
I peeled the rest of the bloody patch off his shoulder.
I winced at the sight of his shoulder. He obviously had been taken care of the right way, which sort of baffled me.
Not my problem. Don’t ask. It doesn't matter.
I reached for a bandage.