Trusting Bull: Savage Brothers MC

by Marie, Jordan

  “I don’t remember you being so timid around me before, Princess,” I say, lounging against the door now, my arms crossed at my chest.

  “You didn’t hate me in the past. I’m going to go take a bath and call it a night. Sorry you got stuck with me,” she says, without bothering to look up. She gets up from the table, still looking at the ground.

  “I don’t hate you Carrie, not most of the time. You shouldn’t have been there that night,” I confess, a dose of honesty pushing its way through my lips.

  “I know. If I could take it back, I would, Jacob.”

  “All of it?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  “Would it matter?” She asks instead of answering and the anger that is coiled tight in my stomach heats.

  I resent her not giving me an answer. I want to know what exactly she would change. Why? Fuck if I know. I want to know if she still has those feelings though, if what Dragon says is true. I want her to admit it.

  I should let her go. It’d be better for both of us. I don’t.

  “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?” I ask, wondering if she’ll tell me to get it myself.

  “I made a casserole,” she says finally looking up at me. Were her green eyes always so deep in color?

  “Sounds good. You got beer too?” I ask, walking over to the table and sitting down. It’s a dick move and I think I see a flare of irritation in her eyes, but she doesn’t tell me to go fuck myself. I almost find it disappointing. She takes a few minutes and brings me a plate and a beer.

  She starts to walk out of the room when I stop her.

  “Always did hate eating alone.”

  “Jacob, we both know you don’t want me anywhere around you,” she answers. She doesn’t sit down, but she doesn’t immediately leave the room either.

  I take a bite of the casserole. Chicken. It’s pretty good actually.

  “Where’d you learn to cook?”

  “I’ve always cooked, my mother taught me how,” she responds, and the blush on her face is kind of cute, even if I am getting ready to be a dick to her.

  “Why bother when you had chefs to do that shit?”

  “We never had chefs, Jacob. We never had any servants.”

  “Who was Velma?”

  She looks confused for a minute.

  “She is family.”

  “Did your parents pay her?” I question, knowing the answer.

  “Well yes, of course…”

  “Then she was a servant.”

  Her face goes pale white as she looks at me.

  “You really are a horse’s ass,” she says and then turns and walks out of the room.

  I grin because I got to her. It almost feels like a victory. I ignore the emptiness that invades the room when she leaves.

  Chapter 6

  Carrie

  It takes me a good hour to calm down after leaving Jacob. I hate that I let him get to me. I knew from the minute he acted like he wanted me around, what his game was. I wish I could be more like Nicole. She’d kick Jacob in the balls or something. I jump in the shower and decide to just go to bed. It is early, but sleep sounds better than taking more of Jacob’s abuse.

  I slip on a long t-shirt that Bull gave me to sleep in. It’s soft and worn and lands at my knees. It has short sleeves and is half way to my elbows. Did I mention Bull towers over me?

  I prefer my pajamas, but I accidentally left them at the club. I crawl under the covers with a sigh. Maybe I could move to Georgia, my friend Tammie lives there. Surely whoever it is that is after me won’t follow me down there? That’s the last thought I have before I’m out for the night.

  *

  I awake with a jerk. I can’t tell how long I’ve been sleeping, but now the room is dark and the house is silent. At first I’m confused. I’m not sure what woke me. I yawn, thinking it was nothing and close my eyes. Then I hear it again. Yelling.

  I worry that I’ve been discovered. Did I get Jacob in trouble? Oh god, I can’t have him get hurt in any way because of me. I’ve already been responsible for robbing him of two years of his life.

  “NO!!!!”

  I hear again and there is so much pain in Jacob’s voice. It feels like something grabs my heart and chokes it. I wipe the sleep out of my eyes and jump up out of the bed. I use my hand on the mattress to guide me as my eyes become adjusted to the darkness. I walk blindly, feel the wall with my hand, and find the light switch. I turn it on but leave the light behind, just thankful it illuminates enough so I can follow the sound of Jacob’s moans.

  “Oh god, get away from me! I don’t want this! I’ll kill all you fuckers! Every fucking one of you!”

  I freeze as he says the words. The words register and they paint a scene, I might not see clearly, but it’s clear enough that my brain rejects it.

  “No!” The wounded sound comes out and it’s so full of misery of pain.

  No…just oh god, no. His words are beginning to paint a picture, and I don’t want to see it. I come out of my trance and rush to get to him, hoping I can somehow stop him from saying more. I don’t want to know. That’s selfish, but he wouldn’t want me to know. I’m the last person he would talk to.

  I find him in the room Bull has been using. There’s an old floor model television sitting catty-cornered, which offers pale, flickering light. Jacob is sitting in a chair and the darkness feels…ominous. The TV screen casts a dim light in the room, hiding Jacob in the darkness. All that is visible is his form. His shape absorbs just enough light to look eerie. It sends chills running up my back. The TV has been muted so the only sound in the room is the low, aching moan of misery that comes from Jacob intermittently.

  I lick my lips nervously, my throat feeling closed off. I’m not sure I’m equipped to deal with this. He’s sleeping, but obviously in the thrall of a nightmare. I realize it’s more than that, but I can’t deal with the implications right now. Now I must concentrate on helping, somehow. Would Jacob know who I was if I wake him? Would he wonder why I came into the room?

  The television switches scenes and the brightness infiltrates harshly in the room. That’s when I see it—the gun in Jacob’s hand. My heart stops, my blood runs cold. Then, it jumps back to life, pounding so hard it hurts to breathe. He has the gun half way up his chest, pointing towards his face in a haphazard manner that speaks volumes.

  His head jerks, and his eyes open half-way.

  “Fuck, not again,” he moans out and my heart clenches. It’s said in a way that I understand instantly he’s used to waking up from this nightmare.

  In his other hand there’s an almost finished bottle of whiskey. I watch as he brings it up to his mouth and swallows the last of it down in one gulp. He moans again. It’s the sound I imagine an animal would make if it is caught in a trap.

  Somehow the painful noises coming from him are worse now that he is awake. This doesn’t just haunt him when he can’t help it. It’s constant. Is this my fault? Is this why he hates me so much now? Dear God, I think I hate myself more.

  The light flickers again and this time it is bright enough it reflects off his face. Had it not been so hauntingly sad, it would have weakened my knees from the sheer beauty.

  I take another hesitate step into the room. Unsure at this point of what to do or say, only knowing I have come too far to turn back.

  The bottle falls from his hand, or rather he drops it. The carpet softens the fall and you can’t hear it drop—not really. Still, I think the thud echoes in my heart. Nicole’s words come back into my head.

  He’s broken, baby.

  Oh god, I don’t think I had any idea of just how broken.

  “Jacob,” I whisper, my voice unsteady. I have heard you don’t sneak up on a wounded bear. If anyone is wounded, it is this man, that much is clear, now more than ever. Yet, this is beyond my scope of experience. All I know is I just can’t leave him alone.

  His head moves to the side as if in a daze. My first instincts are to turn on a light and try to connect with him. Still,
if I do that I won’t get the chance to help him further. He’ll throw me out. Heck, he might anyway.

  “Care Bear?”

  The old nickname rolls from his tongue. It delights and wounds at the same time. The only people to ever use it were Jacob and Jazz. Besides my parents they are the only two people to own my heart. Completely own it. My life has been so empty without them. If Jazz was still alive, she’d know how to reach Jacob, she’d know how to make everything better. Never have I missed my best friend more than I miss her right at this moment.

  “It’s me, Jacob. I wanted to check on you,” I say cautiously, walking a few more steps towards him.

  “Why?” He asks, his voice is slurred and full of confusion.

  “I wanted to see you. I thought you might need me,” I respond honestly.

  “Care Bear always wearing your heart on your sleeve, world will eat you alive someday.”

  I wish I could argue with him, but that has pretty much happened.

  “Let’s get you in bed. You’re tired,” I say, standing in front of him, praying I am distracting him enough.

  “I’m fucking tired of it all,” he says, as his eyes close. A grimace of pain bathes his face and it breaks me. The pain seems so huge, so engrained in him I want to curl myself around him and cry.

  “I know, Jacob. I want to help you. Let’s get you in bed. It’ll look better in the morning,” I lie, wishing it was the truth.

  “It’ll never be better.”

  I slide my hand around the gun gently, hoping he doesn’t notice.

  “Someday it will. You just have to hold on, Jacob. Isn’t that what you told me all those years ago?” I ask. I pull on the gun, thanking God that he seems to be concentrating on my words. He doesn’t realize he is giving it to me.

  The weapon feels weird and heavy in my hands. I don’t like it, anything about it really. I want it far out of his reach, but I can’t do that just yet. I back up to put the gun on top of the television. I don’t want to turn my back on him. I’m afraid if I lose eye contact with him that he might sober up enough to know I’m really here. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t register the fact right now. If he did, he’d be screaming for me to leave…or using the gun on me.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he says, sounding even more confused.

  “I know,” I agree walking over to the bed and turning it down. Finally, I make it back in front of him. His eyes look so dark and bleak. I wish it was a trick of bad lighting, but I know better.

  “I told you to leave me alone.”

  “I know that too,” I agree and take his hand into mine. It’s big and rough. The feel of it is like coming home. I wish I could freeze the way my heart feels when his hand grasps mine. Freeze it and hold it with me forever, because I know this will be all he ever gives me. This is it and I’m only getting it now because he doesn’t realize it.

  “Come on let’s lie down for a bit. When you wake up in the morning, I’ll be gone.”

  Instead of letting me pull him up, he yanks me down onto his lap. I gasp and brace myself on his chest.

  “What…what are you doing?”

  “Giving you a taste of what you’ve been wanting for years,” He growls and then his lips are on mine.

  At the first touch of our lips, sensation flames through my body. His tongue runs over my bottom lip and his teeth nibble against it and he slowly sucks it inside his mouth. I should hate it, the taste of alcohol is heavy on him and the flavor isn’t what I have dreamed of all these years. Yet, instead of pushing him away, my hand moves up to his head. The short hair teases against my fingers. It’s one more sensation to add to a million, as he releases my lip and then pushes his tongue inside my mouth.

  I’m twenty years old. By that age most women have slept with a man, or more than one. They have been in relationships, they have held hands, they have been kissed and they have been in some type of love. I have never had any of that, save the last.

  I have been in love with Jacob since the moment my little five-year-old-self laid eyes upon him. I know that sounds stupid. I know that others wouldn’t understand. The thing is, even knowing that, it doesn’t make it any less true. I love Jacob Blake completely. I always have.

  That makes sitting here in his lap, feeling his arms around me, pulling me down against him, feeling his erection ground against my ass…surreal. There are so many things bombarding me. I can’t even begin to decipher them.

  All of these thoughts are flowing through my brain, but not registering. Nothing registers, because the dark whiskey soaked taste of Jacob is invading my body. His tongue forges into my mouth and claims it as his. Investigating every inch he can, he devours and drinks from me. There is nothing I can do, but accept it. Tentatively my tongue follows his lead and dances in tandem with his.

  His hand wraps around my hair and pulls me harder into him. Our teeth clash, and I try to pull away, unsure if I am doing this right. He won’t let me. He takes the kiss further. He takes my mouth harder, demanding more. I am unsure of what to give but I try, nothing has ever felt this wonderful in my life.

  “God Care, you taste so fucking good, so clean. I need more.”

  I hear his words and my heart fills. After so long of not hearing that nickname, Jacob is giving it to me. He’s saying the name he gave me and kissing me. Even better, hearing Jacob say it with his voice so full of hunger and need…there are no words, just dreams coming true.

  My heart is beating out of my chest. The last time Jacob called me Care Bear was that horrible night over two years ago. The night that I have cursed and wished I could erase for both of us. I was so stupid, so very stupid.

  The only thing good from that entire night was the moment Jacob took my shaking body into his arms and held me. He kissed the top of my head and whispered the sweetest words I have ever heard in my life.

  It’ll be okay, Care Bear. I got you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.

  Ever since, especially after my parents died, I would lie in bed thinking of Jacob. I would hear those words, those exact words with Jacob’s voice in a soft loving timber and I wouldn’t feel alone.

  He pulls the shirt I am wearing over my head in one swoop. My arms go up to help because honest to God, I want more of whatever he will give me. I have wanted this since I was old enough to know what two people could do together.

  He grasps my breast, covering it completely, kneading it and stealing my breath all at the same time.

  “So perfect.”

  I hear his voice as if it is somewhere in the distance and through a great fog. I have so many new feelings and sensations it feels almost as if I’m sailing away.

  “Jacob,” I moan as his lips leave mine. I take in some much needed oxygen. His mouth goes down my neck, his teeth nipping along the skin with just enough pressure that I can’t tell if it is pain…it is just exquisite. My hands are biting into the arms of the chair we are in. My body starts rocking against him without me even realizing it. I push my ass against his hard erection. His jeans are in the way, I want more. I need more. My movements are out of rhythm, but it feels like I am on fire.

  He stands up with me, one hand on my breast, the other around my stomach holding my back tight against his front. I push my head against his shoulder as he continues his assault. There will be marks on my neck…I want them. I want anything he will give me.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Carrie. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” he groans in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

  His hand moves down my stomach, sliding underneath my panties. I feel his fingers fan out and caress the outer lips of my pussy. My hips thrust out to try and force his hand to move where I want. He increases the pressure of his touch and stills my movements.

  “Don’t worry I’ll give you what you need.”

  His voice grates against my skin, as his fingers slide between my folds. I gasp at the way he immediately begins caressing my clit. Lightly grazing, never giving it enough pr
essure. Over and over he continues, slowly destroying me. I can feel the blood surging in my body. I’m twenty years old and though I have never been with a man, I have given myself orgasms. None of them have felt like this. Intense, consuming, I can literally feel it building with a force that scares me. It’s nothing like the lukewarm emotions I’ve had before.

  My hands move behind me, I grab his thighs, needing a connection with him. His fingers push inside me, not all the way but enough that my legs threaten to give out on me. I’m so close, if he would just move his finger over….

  “Take me, Jacob!” I call out, knowing the explosion is about two seconds away. My nails bite into the cheeks of his ass so deeply, so hard, I know I’m marking him too. I want too. I want my mark on him so I …

  He thrusts me away abruptly, pushing me from him with such force, I stumble. I try to catch myself on the bed before I go all the way down, but I can’t. The metal of the bed frame tears into the skin on my lower leg. I pull myself up and turn around to look at Jacob.

  “What…”

  “Get the fuck out of here! I told you I’d rather chop my dick off than have anything to do with you.”

  “But Jacob…you…I…”

  “I was teaching you a lesson,” he growls and picks up my shirt off the floor and throws it at me.

  With everything going on, I didn’t realize I was naked. Before, it felt beautiful, now I feel exposed and dirty. I hold the shirt tight to me, covering my front from him.

  “Think my brother would like knowing you wear his clothes to come and fuck me, Princess? You really are just begging for any man’s cock, aren’t you? Did you tease that bastard two years ago like you just did me? Did you only cry wolf when you noticed me there? Is that how you play your games?”

  His words are full of venom and hate and as I listen to them, I realize he fully believes them. Tears start falling before I can stop them.

  “Oh, poor little rich girl. Turning on the waterworks, get the fuck out of here!”

  That sounds like a great idea. There’s so much I need to digest, so much pain, mine and his. Worse is the fact he called me Princess. It is more hurtful now. For a small space in time I had everything I wanted, when he called me Care Bear. Being called Princess now? A knife couldn’t cut sharper.