UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8) - Hayley Faiman (rooftoppers TXT) 📗

Laying down he was hot, standing there, his body hunched slightly and completely flexed, he’s beautiful. He turns his head and frowns as he looks at me.

“No way can you stand in there by yourself.”

He snorts. “Think I probably can, babe.”

Shaking my head, I make my way toward him, kicking off my shoes, I hurry to his side. “You’re still dressed,” he announces as I help him into the warm shower.

“Yeah,” I breathe.

I don’t trust myself being naked and alone with him. I’ve never been that way with a man before. I don’t count being stripped down and strapped to a table anything like this between us right now. I have a feeling just his eyes on me, alone together like this, may cause me to combust or something. So, I’m keeping my clothes on, for now at least.

Maybe one day…

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

I don’t ask him why and he doesn’t tell me. I doubt he thinks of me the way that I do him. I doubt he wants me, desires me, dreams of me the way I have done him since the moment I saw him.

I knew he was different, knew that I felt different when I just looked at him, let alone was near him and being here and helping him the past week, forget about it. Every part of me desires every part of him.

Chapter Seven

PAMELA

After his shower, Dylan allowed me to change his bedding, then he promptly laid down and passed out. I spend the next half an hour cleaning up the room.

I am under no impression that this is or ever has been his personal space, it’s too cold, too plain. There aren’t even clothes in the closet. I have a feeling it’s a guest room of some kind.

There’s a knock on the door and I jump, then look back to him to make sure he’s still asleep. He doesn’t even flinch. Hurrying over to the door, I slowly open it and blink at the sight of Della on the other side.

She has some fabric in her hands and I tilt my head to the side in question. “When he ran off, they got rid of a lot of his things. I felt bad, guilty really. I kept what looked important and his clothes in case he ever came back.”

I’m not sure how I should feel about this. Maybe I should feel jealous, but as I look at Della, not even an ounce of jealousy flows through my veins, at least not right now. Reaching for the pile of fabric, I place one hand on top and the other on the bottom before I bring it all against my chest.

“Thank you, he’ll probably be happy to have some clean clothes. I haven’t had a chance to wash what he was wearing and he doesn’t have anything else.”

Her lips turn up into a small smile before she asks how he’s doing. Looking over my shoulder, I watch him for a moment as he rests.

“He’s okay, resting.”

“Doc’s been to see him?” she asks.

Nodding my head, I hold the clothes even closer to my chest. Her gaze roams over my face, then her eyes widen and she lifts them to meet my own.

“Do you have any other clothes? I think that’s all I’ve seen you in.”

I glance down at my bare legs. I’m wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a comfortable black tank, along with a pair of slip-on shoes. The quickest things for me to grab before leaving California. They were clean and filed on my dresser. I slipped them on and I ran.

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper. I’ve at least washed my clothes.

Every other day, I wash them and I just wrap a towel around me while I wait for them to dry. Thankfully there’s a washer and dryer here, so it hasn’t been that big of a deal, but I don’t know how many times you can wash and dry one outfit before it gets threadbare and literally falls apart.

“It does,” she murmurs.

I like Della. I’m sure for some jealous girl code reason I’m not supposed to. She had Dylan once. She had him, but didn’t want him. She knows so much more about him than I probably ever will. She’s closer to his age, but she’s married with a baby and she is really into her man. Like really into him.

“You’re all wet. Let me bring you some clothes.”

The idea of taking her charity, it makes me feel some kind of way and I don’t like it. Shaking my head, I take a step back.

“No,” I breathe. “I really can’t. I’ll figure out a way to earn money and get clothes. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Della takes a step toward me, reaching out, she wraps her hand around my forearm and squeezes.

“You’re under our care, Pamela. You need clothes and basic necessities. Nobody here would bat an eyelash. Let me take you to the store.”

Gulping, I look down at my feet, then shake my head and lift my gaze to meet hers. “I can’t. Really,” I whisper.

Her hand falls and thankfully, she takes a step backward. She nods her head, her gaze finding mine. I can tell just by looking at her that she isn’t going to let this go, she isn’t going to just stop and let me take care of myself.

“Okay,” she says. Her eyes flick behind me to Dylan’s sleeping form. “I’m here, the club is here,” she reminds me.

Dipping my chin, I don’t say anything. She takes it as her cue to leave and I watch her turn around and walk away. Closing the door behind her, I wish not for the first time that there was a lock on this side so that I could lock the world away from me, from us.

“She’s good people,” Dylan rasps, turning his head to me, he opens one eye and watches me.

“I know,” I say, agreeing with him.

Making my way over to the small dresser,