Never Say Never (Reapers MC: Shasta Chapter Book 3)

by Bijou Hunter

  “Because I think you’re supposed to be mine,” she says with fear in her beautiful eyes.

  I like scaring people. As a kid, my size kept trouble away. Sometimes, I’d get hassled by some shithead. Then I’d stand up and enjoy the terror I saw in the asshole’s eyes.

  But I don’t want Shelby Campbell to fear me. She isn’t looking at me like she did when she thought I’d hit her. This is something sadder. Like a kid wanting his mom to take him somewhere when she’d rather just leave him behind.

  “It’s getting dark,” I say, and she looks scolded. “Driving at night around here ain’t safe. You should stay.”

  Shelby’s mouth literally falls open in shock. Her reaction only lasts a second. Then she smiles. “I don’t snore.”

  “I do.”

  “I don’t care. Hansel snores too.”

  Frowning, I have to think of who that is, but then I remember her mentioning her dogs are named after that story about the kids and a witch.

  “You’re happy now?” I ask.

  Shelby smiles before pressing her body against mine. She fits real nice in my arms. Almost like she was made for me too.

  THE WEIRDO

  After Goliath asks me to spend the night, I nearly strain a muscle to keep myself from smothering him with affection. I want to tell him that he’s amazing, and I think of him all the time, and I will wait for him and a bunch of other crazy chick stuff.

  Instead, I do a rather solid job of not crushing him under the weight of my need. I work out that craziness during sex. Goliath gets impressively hard when I cuddle with him. I’m starting to realize he isn’t accustomed to tenderness that isn’t fuck related.

  Straddling him, I relish the feel of Goliath’s strong arms around me as I leisurely roll my hips. His giant dick fills my body so perfectly. Its thickness applies pressure to my clit, leaving my pussy on fire from even the slightest thrust. When we fuck, I feel like an extension of his powerful body.

  He holds my gaze as we move together. I don’t dare look away. Yet how can I safeguard my heart when he sees me so raw? In the end, Goliath needs me to stare into his eyes more than I need to protect myself.

  After we come, I leave him inside me. Neither of us wants this to end. When we’re good, we’re great. However, the bad between us always threatens a painful reappearance.

  Eventually, we move to the kitchenette for dinner. He doesn’t dress while I slide on my black “Halloween” T-shirt. I don’t know why I don’t dress nicer for these booty calls. Maybe I want them to feel casual, so I won’t get my hopes up.

  “I don’t like onions,” he says, digging them out of his sandwich.

  “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  When Goliath shrugs like a big annoyed kid, I struggle not to jump over the table and kiss the frown from his face.

  Instead, I just say, “I’ll remember that next time.”

  Though he doesn’t look at me when I make my promise, I do catch a little smile.

  “Do you like being out here alone?” I ask as the sun hangs low in the sky.

  Shrugging, he puts his sandwich back together and takes a bite.

  I steal his unwanted onions and ask, “When do you plan to build your house?”

  Again, he shrugs.

  “Can I help you design it?”

  Goliath narrows his gaze as if I’m up to something. Smiling, I take a bite of sandwich and say with my mouth full, “I’ve helped design plenty of houses our construction company renovated. I know stuff.”

  Awarding me a half-smile for my efforts, he says, “I don’t know where to begin. I never did construction. I don’t know how to make a house out of the shit in my head.”

  “That’s why I’ll help you. There was a woman who wanted stuff changed in her house. She had a million ideas, but they didn’t work or were too expensive. I helped take her ideas and make them possible on her budget. She called me an angel.”

  Goliath smiles again, easier this time. “That’s what you do for the Reapers?”

  “That and a lot of the business stuff. Permits, scheduling crews. Taylor handles the club stuff like overseeing the drugs, guns, and women. She makes everyone check in twice daily ever since we lost a few meth labs. They call her ‘The Tyrant’ because she takes no shit. Me? I’m an angel. It’s kinda bullshit, you know? I’m just as bitchy as Taylor. Where’s my praise?”

  Chuckling, Goliath shakes his head. “You’re too pretty to be scary.”

  “Taylor’s pretty.”

  “Not like you,” he says, holding my gaze for a little too long and sending my heart thumping wildly.

  “Thank you,” I mumble in a voice so filled with need that I might as well spray-paint “Shelby Loves Dean” on the wall. “I really would help get your ideas organized. It’s important for you to have the house you want. I know where you used to live, and it wasn’t well suited for a man your size.”

  “It did fine,” he says, defensive as always.

  “Cooper Johansson’s youngest daughter is married to a large man. We stopped by their current house last year when we visited Max in Nashville. It’s just a house, you know? Normal-sized ceilings and doorways, but Audrey said their future house will fit a man of his size. Her father-in-law is big too. I hear his house was designed so he could stretch out and never smack his knuckles on the ceiling. You should have that too.”

  “That guy sounds rich.”

  “You have money. I researched you, remember? You make the choice to live like a poor redneck.” Goliath narrows his gaze, again feeling attacked. I wave off his pissy expression. “You only get one life, and you should want the best for yourself.”

  “Fine.”

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen at the Victorian,” I say, changing the subject. “River and Max will move out next year. Shane will want a place of his own once River has one. They’re very competitive. Once the boys are gone, it’ll be me, Maude, our kids, the dogs, and the ghosts.”

  Goliath looks amused. “Do you really think there are ghosts in that house?”

  “I feel them.”

  “How?”

  “Like when I was researching the police reports about Violet Navarro’s disappearance and her parents’ murder-suicide. I started convincing myself that they killed their daughter. Then I felt this cold chill as if someone opened a door, but it was just the dogs and me in the TV room. I wasn’t sure if the ghost was saying I was right or wrong. Then I imagined if I were a ghost trying to convey something to a stupid living person, how would I do it? I decided the ghost was telling me that Violet’s parents didn’t kill her.”

  “So the ghosts show up when you’re working that Slasher thing?”

  “No, I feel them at other times. The back door sometimes ends up unlatched. The dogs bark at the ceiling. I feel as if I’m being watched. Little things. Nothing horror-movie scary, just startling when I’m alone.”

  “I wouldn’t want to live in a haunted house,” Goliath says, giving his big head a shake.

  “While I do get freaked out, it’s not like the movies where the ghosts attack or possess people. The ghosts give me a weird feeling every now and again. Sometimes, at night, when I’m freaked out or lonely, the chill actually reassures me.”

  “Why get freaked out? Also, how can you get lonely when there are so many people living in the house?”

  “At night, when everyone goes to bed, the sitting room feels as if it exists in a void,” I say, realizing how childish I sound. “In Ellsberg, our house was in a residential area with normal-sized yards. I could look across the street and see the lights in the other houses. It didn’t feel so isolated.”

  “How you gonna handle sleeping here in the woods when the trees don’t even let in the moonlight?”

  “I’ll have you next to me,” I say immediately. “I’m not scared downstairs when there’s someone around. It’s when they all go to bed. The house is built old school. The floors and walls are thick. I can’t even hear the babies crying
unless the doors are open between them and me.”

  “Maybe stop watching all of them movies.”

  Now I’m the defensive one. “It’s too late. I’ve already gotten the ideas in my head. Besides, they relax me now. A slasher in a movie is just an actor on the screen. Usually, horror movies have rules too. They make sense in a way real life doesn’t. Like I could be searching for the slasher right now, and he might have been that guy who choked on a hot dog last spring. Real life is chaotic, and chaos makes me anxious.”

  Goliath studies me for a moment and then frowns as if I’m pissing him off. “I rarely watch movies.”

  “What do you do out here?”

  “Sit on a chair outside and think.”

  “About what?”

  “Stuff.”

  “Do you ever feel lonely?” I ask, looking at my sandwich to avoid making him feel on the spot.

  “No.”

  Lifting my gaze, I find him still frowning at me. “Wasn’t anyone ever nice to you, Dean? Is that why you act as if everything I say is an insult? Or is it just that I annoy you?”

  “Don’t get dramatic.”

  “I want to understand you. Not change or shame you. Just understand how you work.”

  Goliath narrows his gaze. He doesn’t trust me. No matter how docile I behave, he feels attacked. Well, fuck that shit!

  “Look,” I say, holding his gaze, “I don’t know why you’re so weird, but I’m okay with that. I’m weird too. The ghosts and my obsession with man-stink. I accept I’m not normal. I’m not looking to change you or me. Why can’t you just relax with me like you do with Hugh?”

  “Because I trust him.”

  “Why can’t you trust me?” I ask, internally comforting my bruised ego.

  Goliath doesn’t answer. I think he wants to, but his answer might be hurtful. Or maybe he really doesn’t know.

  “Is it because I’m a woman, and chicks have done you wrong?” I ask in a softer tone. “I used to be scared of men after that shit with the college guys. I started avoiding club events with all those dudes. My problem with man-stink kicked into another gear after that happened. But I learned to get over it by being around men who didn’t suck. Maybe you just need to be around women who don’t want to fuck you over.”

  Goliath takes my tenderness as an attack, of course. “What do you want from me? You ain’t here for my charm, Shelby.”

  Refusing to lose my temper, I shrug. “I want you to spend time with me and to like me in the way I like you. Maybe that’s not possible, but that’s what I want.”

  “People are shit,” he spits out, dropping his sandwich and glaring at me.

  His hostility darkens the mood in the trailer. I’m not scared, though. I got over a lot of my crap years ago. Watching Shane and River endlessly fuck with each other made violent men seem less intimidating.

  I know Goliath isn’t like them. He’s cruel in a way my brother can’t be. Shane never had to fight to survive. He always had someone willing to lift him up. Goliath’s been alone. I see that in him now. His eyes reveal a resentment over me daring to believe he can live any differently.

  “Not all people are shit, Dean.”

  “Oh, because you’re fucking special. Bullshit. Everyone stabs each other in the back. I had plenty of fucking friends before I got pinched. Then I was locked up, and those motherfuckers didn’t visit once.”

  “Because the Skullz sucked,” I whisper to prevent feeding his rage.

  “Some of them are Reapers now.”

  “Yeah, but they’re not me.”

  “And you’re so fucking special,” he growls, making me wonder if he even knows why he’s lashing out right now.

  “If you got locked up again, I would visit,” I say softly. “I would make sure you had money. I’d even keep an eye on your bitch mom. I’d do that because I care about you, and I don’t let go of people I care about. I hold on to them so tight that they need to pry me off and run away just to get a moment’s peace. That’s how my heart works.”

  Goliath frowns at my answer. “That’s only if I give you what you want.”

  “Look, even if we lose the baby and you fuck other women, I’ll still have feelings for you. I might find someone else and stop obsessing over your handsome face and giant, hot bod, but I’ll still want you to be safe. I don’t know why people treated you like shit in the past, but I’m not people. I’m Shelby Campbell, and I don’t roll that way.”

  Simmering in his head is a long list of resentments over people hurting or disappointing him. Goliath doesn’t say much of anything while I wrap up the rest of my sandwich and take it to the fridge. I wash my hands and swish with water to get the onion taste out of my mouth. Then I stand next to him at the table.

  Brushing my fingers across his cheek, I ask, “Is it just sex, or do you like the rest of me too?”

  His gray eyes study my face, searching for the con. When I only watch him, his anger diffuses a little bit.

  “Yomp, but I don’t trust you.”

  “Do you want to trust me, or is life easier when you keep people at arm’s length?”

  “I’m too old to change,” he says, giving me a cop-out answer.

  I only smile and kiss him gently. He doesn’t offer me much affection in return. Goliath feels on the spot right now, but he’s making strides toward changing despite his claim otherwise. As much as I want to push him to be what I need, I’ve had weeks to adjust to the fact that this giant man may never be able to love me like I do him.

  THE GOLIATH

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sexier sight than Shelby Campbell in my shower. I can’t fit in there with her, but I stand at the doorway and watch her soap up. She isn’t even trying to be sexy. When she glances over her shoulder at me, I get a strong urge to bow to her will.

  Then I think of how I let Becklyn and Jaymes dig into my life, taking it over and forcing me to give them what they wanted. There were days when I refused to return home because I didn’t know how to deal with their shit.

  Before prison, I would have let Shelby walk all over me. She’s better than any of those women, but she’s also got power they never did. I felt it early on when she squeezed me with just her gaze. I felt trapped under her power, drawn to her, lost in bad ideas for a man like me.

  I’m rough. She’s soft. I’m quiet. She never shuts the fuck up. I’m oil. She’s water. We can’t mix.

  But I want her, and she just keeps coming back to me. I’m not a robot. I’ve gotta heart. If she walked away now, I’d survive. Except she isn’t walking away. She’s spending the night, getting comfortable in my life, making me need her.

  I oughta end shit. I know this as well as I know how to fucking breathe. It’s so obvious. Those other women ran roughshod over me because they’re women. Shelby will do worse because she’s Shelby Campbell. If I let her closer, she’ll dig her way into my heart and own me. Then when shit goes south like it always does with women, I’ll hurt like I haven’t since I was a kid.

  As Shelby wraps herself against me after her shower, I sense myself losing this battle. It’s not the sex. I could fuck a dozen women tonight if I wanted. One after another, without any thinking, talking, or caring.

  I hate Shelby for tearing me up inside. She gives me those sad eyes and asks if I like her. She wants me to reassure her, but she’s no weakling. I see her peeling back my layers, figuring me out.

  And that’s the problem. My mom never cared what I wanted. Becklyn was always in her own drama-filled bubble. Jaymes needed me to be someone else.

  Shelby, though, wants to know who I am. She isn’t scared of me. Despite the day when she thought I’d hurt her, she keeps coming back. There’s no way a scared woman would walk around naked in this trailer like she does.

  “Do you want to?” she asks and gyrates her hips at me and makes squeaky spring sounds. “I smell like you.”

  “I’d rather you smell like you,” I say, moving toward her.

  I wrap my arm around her back
and lower her into the bed. Shelby cups my face, and her fingers touch me so tender that I feel uneasy. Then she gives me a bright smile that people never offer to someone like me. I feel that tightness in my chest again.

  I oughta kick her out. Better for her to feel bad than for me to get stuck feeling like shit. Yet I can’t bring myself to shut down what’s happening here.

  Shelby’s kisses tease me into thinking about her in my bed all night. Is that what I want? It’s probably what I’ve wanted for a while.

  Fucking Shelby, I stare into her eyes. It’s a mistake. I’m dealing with emotional crap, and she tempts me to feel more. Shelby holds my gaze. Even when I fuck her harder, she won’t look away. Then she smiles just a little, and I realize this woman has the power to fucking destroy me.

  I’ve never been so relieved to come before. I need space from her gaze tearing me open and looking at what I have to offer.

  I walk outside into the cold air. Shelby hurries on a shirt and stands at the door. She hesitates at the entrance of the trailer, probably frightened by the dark night. How many horror movies involve the woods? She’s so weird to worry over a killer showing up and chainsawing us to death. Does she think I can’t rip off his arms? Hell, I’ll shove that saw up his ass before he gets near her.

  “Do you want me to leave?” she asks, wearing that sad-little-girl look.

  “Do you want to leave?”

  “No. I want to watch you sleep. How am I going to do that if you kick me out?”

  “I ain’t doing shit,” I mutter and then add, “Don’t watch me sleep.”

  Shelby reveals a half-smirk. She looks so devious, watching me. A witchy woman hoping to steal my heart and then what? Boil the fucking thing in a pot? Or just toss it aside in the trash?

  “How many boyfriends did you have back in Ellsberg?”

  “I never dated. People thought I was frigid. Ooh, some thought I was in love with Taylor, but she wasn’t interested. So, I lived hopelessly unfulfilled. I liked that rumor most. If I could get horny for chicks, I’d be all over Taylor.”