by LeAnn Asher
Cooking has always been something that makes me feel better about everything. I don’t want to dwell on what happened today, because it was a freak thing.
I place the tray on the coffee table and plop down on the couch next to him. I grab my plate off the tray, scoot back into the couch, and tuck my legs under me.
Under my eyelashes, I watch as Butcher inhales his food, his nostrils flaring as he does so. He cuts into the steak, spears a bite that is smothered in cheese, and places it in his mouth.
He looks over at me. “You’re never leaving.” He goes back to inhaling his food. My stomach flips over with happiness and giddiness. I always love it when someone likes my food, but it’s so much better when it’s my man.
We finish our meal, and it’s mostly me watching him eat. I love watching people eat, seeing their enjoyment of their food—especially Butcher. Once I am done I place my food on the coffee table, groan, and sit back, holding my too-full stomach. Butcher has been done for a bit now.
“Time for you to sleep.” Butcher stands up. Then he bends down, scoops me up, and puts me over his shoulder.
“I don’t want to sleep! Put me down, Butcher,” I yell at him in mock anger.
Whack! A hand lands on my ass.
“You just smacked me on the ass.”
Whack! He hits me harder this time, and I burst out laughing. I pinch his butt cheek and he jumps slightly.
“Shay,” he growls, and that’s when I feel his hand touching my pussy. He rubs slightly.
“You aren’t playing fair!” I yell and he chuckles. He runs up the stairs and I hold onto his shirt, laughing. I love this side of him. I never expected him to be playful.
He bends down and deposits me on the bed. He goes to his closet, and I am not ashamed to admit that I watch his behind as he goes. There is a shirt in his hands when he comes out, and he tosses it to me. “Put this on.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “You’re telling me?”
He smirks at me. His wish is my command. As I pull my shirt over my head, I hear his sharp intake of breath, and I lower my head to hide my amusement.
His telling me what to do backfired.
I climb off the bed and turn my back to Butcher. I unbutton my jeans and bend over as I slide them down my butt, making sure to wiggle my hips.
I slide them down my legs and peek over my shoulder at Butcher, who is standing there with a dark expression, his hands clenched at his sides. I grab the shirt off the bed, slide it over my head quickly, and turn to face him. “Thanks for the shirt.” I wink and sit back down on the bed.
* * *
Butcher
* * *
She is perfect but she drives me mad. That fucking striptease she just gave me drove me crazy, and she knows it too. I am in fucking trouble, because she owns me. She has owned me from the first smile.
Now she is sitting on the bed, staring me down with that little smile on her lips, letting me know she knows that she owns me.
Not that I mind.
Now it’s time for some fun. Her eyes widen when she takes in my smile and I stalk over to her.
* * *
Shaylin
* * *
I know that look. He stalks over to me and I know I am in trouble, but the very, very good kind. I lick my lips and press my legs together in anticipation.
“What are you doing, Butcher?” I can’t keep my mouth shut and I have to ask.
He ignores me but continues giving me that fucking smile that, in this case, promises a lot of good things, though I have also seen him give men that smile, meaning “you’re dead.” Butcher is versatile like that, like me.
He gets down onto his knees at the side of the bed and his hands come to my thighs. Oh boy. He grips them between his fingers, and I feel them quiver with need. In a sudden movement, he pulls me to the edge of the bed—to expose me to him—but he sees I have panties on.
“We don’t need these.” He tsks and his hand wraps around the band at my hip, and then—snap! He tears them from my body again.
“Much better,” he growls and looks down at my crotch, taking me in. I flush and lean back on my elbows. He brings his arms up and around my legs then locks his hands together at the top of my pussy, locking me in place. I can’t move.
Oh shit! I scream in my mind as I feel the first swipe of his tongue. I intertwine my fingers in his hair and pull at the ends, which causes him to growl, and I shiver. He moves his tongue quicker.
I feel sweat break out at the back of my neck and thighs. This is so intense—there are no words for this. He is unforgiving as he attacks me with vigor, and it’s much different than last night. Last night was calculated, him learning what I like. Now he knows where and how to lick.
My body is on edge, my toes curled, reaching the edge of the cliff. His sucks my clit and I moan deeply. That’s when I feel his teeth and he bites down slightly.
“AH!” I yell, my body shaking uncontrollably.
I am lifted up and then set down at the top of the bed. I am like a limp noodle. “I believe you are trying to kill me.” I laugh and throw my arms above my head, looking at Butcher, who is standing beside me. “Good way to go.”
I grab the bottom of his shirt. “Come lie with me.” He does as I ask and scoots beside me on the bed. I turn partially on my side and plop my head on his chest. Butcher’s hand goes to the back of my head, and he kisses the top of it.
“Sleep, my Shay.”
I grin widely when I hear him say I am his Shay. “You’re my Butcher.” I pull myself closer to his side.
“Damn right.” His chest rumbles as he speaks, and I raise my head and kiss his chest directly over his heart. “Sleep, Shay.”
I close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep.
* * *
Butcher
* * *
I arrive at the clubhouse, and I notice everyone else is here already. I don’t like Shaylin’s house—it’s too exposed. Someone can break in as easily as pushing the door in, and I don’t like that shit. I don’t like her exposed.
I walk to the interrogation room, where I know the fucker is being held. He said some fucked-up shit to Shaylin, and he’s going to pay for that.
Nobody fucks with Shaylin.
Everyone in the room turns and looks at me. Smiley takes a few steps in my direction, and I can see his concern for his daughter.
“She’s asleep.”
“Wore her out, didn’t you?”
I freeze and turn around to see who the fuck said that. It was Locke, ever the jokester. I walk over to him and grip him around the throat, squeezing. “Watch your mouth, fucker, if you want to be able to speak out of it again.” I push his neck hard, and he hits the wall but does it smiling.
“This is why he can date my kid,” Smiley says to everyone and I shake my head. I am not here to fucking chitchat. I am here to fuck him up.
He is hanging in the air by his arms. “I want first hits, Kyle.”
Kyle nods. This man is going to get his ass beat by everyone here. He looks me dead in the eye, and I stare back.
I step up in front of him and grip his throat. “Fucked with the wrong woman,” I growl and I notice him paling further. I bring my fist back and hit as hard as I can. It flings his head back, and his head rolls forward again.
“She sure was pretty, she looked tight as fuck.”
I feel someone come up beside me, and I look over. Smiley is standing beside me with his huge-ass smile.
“You just made this so much more fun,” Smiley tells him and I nod.
I take out my knife and run my hand up the edge to gauge the sharpness. I run the tip of the knife along his lips. I don’t think I want to hear him speak again. Prying his mouth open with my hand, I motion for Lane to step forward. “Hold his mouth open.” Lane grips his mouth, and Smiley has a gun pointed to his head. “Don’t move.” Smiley smiles at him maniacally.
A pair of pliers is handed to me, and I put it in his mouth. I grip his tongue and pu
ll it. Gripping my knife, I press it against his tongue and he starts pulling away.
“Should have watched your mouth.” I pull hard and the piece of tongue hits the floor.
“Who’s next?” I step back, and Lane steps forward and beats the shit out of him. One by one everyone gets a piece of him, especially the members of Lane’s club. She is their princess.
“Have fun in hell,” Smiley tells him and brings his gun up and pulls the trigger. The fucker slumps over, dead.
“I’m out.” I turn on my heel and walk back the way I came. Shay is at my home waiting on me.
* * *
The Next Day
Shaylin
* * *
I know my bakery is clean and will be like nothing happened, but I dread seeing the place where everything went down.
Butcher pulls to a stop outside the bakery, and he climbs off first then I follow him. He tucks me into his side, and we walk together to the front door.
Today I am interviewing some ladies who will come work with me full time. I take my keys out of my pocket and unlock my door. I step inside and then I’m immediately pulled back. I eye Butcher in confusion.
He takes his hand off my forearm. “Let me check the place out.”
I nod and cross my arms across my chest, and he searches the bakery, including the kitchen and bathroom. Once he is finished, he nods in my direction, letting me know everything is okay.
I walk back to the kitchen and grab the containers of measured-out ingredients that I have pre-planned. For the next two hours, I get everything ready for the day and set up the glass showcase with the extras in the back.
“Butcher, will you turn the sign to open for me, sweetheart?” I don’t look up from organizing everything. When I don’t hear him moving, I look up to see what he is doing and, much to my surprise, he is standing at the door, looking directly at me.
“What is it?” I ask and stand back up.
“Nothing.” He unlocks the door, and I catch a small smile.
He liked me calling him sweetheart.
I grab the last cupcake off the tray and place it inside the showcase, and then I put down the glass door.
“Butcher…” I start and his hands wrap around my hips, pulling me back. My back hits his hard front, and I am pulled into his lap. I laugh, lean back, and press my lips to his.
His hand twines through my hair, and he presses me harder against him to deepen the kiss. A loud rumble comes from him, and I shiver at the sound. I love that I affect him.
I realize, in this moment, I want to cross that next step with him. I want to give him that part of me. I turn in his lap so I can reach him better. A hand grips my ass and I jump in shock, which causes me to rub against his dick.
He pulls his lips from mine and kisses the side of my neck. “Fuck me,” he whispers and I know he is trying to control himself.
So I take the plunge. “I will tonight.” I twist my hands together in my lap in anticipation as I eye his reaction.
His mouth opens slightly. He takes deep breaths and cups the side of my face. “Shay, you don’t have to.”
I soften my gaze and touch the hand resting on my cheek. “I want you,” I whisper and touch my forehead to his. “Only you.”
“My Shay.” His voice is rough and I lean forward, pressing my lips to his cheek, right on the scar.
“My Butcher.”
The bell above the door dings, bringing us out of the moment, and I rise from his lap. Butcher keeps his hand on my back, and the only emotions I feel right now are peace and happiness. It feels like I have been missing something my whole life, and now it feels like I found the missing link and that link is Butcher.
He came into my life in an unusual circumstance and was not what I had expected at all. I was eating lunch and he came into the steak house, saw me, and never left.
I never wanted him to leave.
There was something about him that was haunted and he was frightening, but I was never scared of him. But I know a lot of people are afraid of him—I can see their reactions.
“Hi!” As I greet the customer, I realize it’s the guy whose head I busted the tip jar over when he grabbed my arm.
Fuck me, man. Can this get any worse? I don’t think.
“Henry, what are you doing here?” They aren’t beating around the bush with me today. I am not in the mood, and I also don’t understand why he is here. I broke a tip jar over his head.
“I came here to see about that date.” Henry presses himself hard against the counter, leaning toward me.
“Henry, I have a man.” Butcher tightens his grip on me, and I know I made him happy saying that.
Henry glares at me. Does he not see the man standing behind me? I am in his arms. If Henry doesn’t put that together, there is something wrong with him.
“I don’t care. It’s one date,” he begs, and I cringe when I get a whiff of his breath. I don’t even want to comprehend what is going on there. That is not everyday morning breath. It smells like shit and god knows what.
Butcher growls loudly and lets go of me. Oh man.
“Henry, leave—before you get your ass beat.”
Henry falls onto the counter, holding his hands together. “Please, my…my…Shay.”
Butcher is around the counter and has Henry by the throat before I can blink. “She’s my Shaylin. Never speak her name again.”
Well, that was hot.
“I’m sorry. I will leave,” Henry says, defeated, and Butcher lets him go. Henry walks to his Mercedes, which still shocks me. He can afford a Mercedes, but not soap?
Butcher goes into the bathroom to wash his hands and scrub his body.
A woman walks into the bakery and straight up to the counter. “I am here for the interview.”
“Hi! I’m Shaylin. Come with me. We can sit down and talk through everything.” Butcher comes out of the bathroom. “Would you mind watching the store while I...” The girl is freaking out, and my eyes widen as she runs back out of the store.
What the fuck?
I feel like tracking her ass down and beating some sense into her. That’s insulting and disrespectful.
“I like it when you get mad.”
His words bring me from my thoughts. I arch an eyebrow and cock my hip to the side. “You do, huh?”
He winks at me and my heart skips a beat. I swoon at the sight of that wink. He tortures me with it, and he knows what to do to get me going.
Twelve
Shaylin
Later That Night
Tonight is the night, and the nerves are getting to me, to be honest. I am at Butcher’s house right now, and he is at the gate picking up the pizza we ordered.
I am terrified that I will be bad in bed and that it won’t be good for him. Hello, Virgin Mary here. I know it’s going to hurt, but that’s not the biggest thing.
Sex is such an intimate thing, and I have waited a long time for this to happen—and it’s all going down in a couple of hours.
I hear the door open and look around, and Butcher walks inside. My belly growls as the scent hits me. I am starving. He sets the pizza down on the coffee table, and I flip back the top and grab a slice. He sits down beside me and dives in.
We sit in silence and I want to say something, but what do I say? I feel like I should be cool and just let it happen. Then the other side of me wants to say something, but I don’t know what. I’m just a mess.
Smallville comes on and I grab the remote to turn it up.
“Pussy,” he says to me.
My mouth pops open, and I glare at Butcher in mock anger. “What did you say about my show?”
“Pussy,” he mocks and I snort. It’s hilarious when he tries to be funny.
He bursts out laughing and I drop my pizza. I have never heard him laugh like that before. I watch in awe as he laughs loudly and deeply. This is amazing.
Once he is done laughing, I press a kiss to his lips quickly and then go back to my pizza. I am so infatuated with
him.
For the next thirty minutes we finish eating, and he gets up to throw away the pizza. I look at the clock on the wall, and it says eight o’clock.
I am ready.
I stand up and take my shirt off, and I throw it toward the kitchen. Then I walk to the stairs. I take off my bra and place it on the stair rail.
I hurry up the stairs and, at the top, I take off my jeans. I lay them down, and when I reach the entrance to his bedroom, I take off my panties and drape them over the door handle.
Oh my god. I can’t believe I’ve just done that. I know he has seen me naked before, but this is just different.
Hands touch my hips and I jump. I spin around and come face to face with Butcher. His hands move up my sides and then under my arms. He lifts me off the ground, and my legs go around his waist.
His face is intense as he takes in my naked body. I raise my face, press my lips to his, and run my hands down his back.
I feel the bed pressed against my back, and my stomach flips. He presses his lips harder against mine, his tongue twining with mine. His hands run up and down my sides, goose bumps breaking out across my naked flesh.
Then his fingers move from my hip to the edge of my pussy, and I gasp in his mouth. He is teasing me. He chuckles, and I move my hips over in hopes that his hand will move closer to where I need it to be.
He does what I need, and his finger strokes my clit. I moan into his mouth, and he moves his finger again in a slow circle.
The finger moves from my clit to my opening, and I relax as he slides a finger inside. “Soaked,” he growls in my mouth, and I raise my hips, his finger slipping farther inside. He presses his finger all the way in and slowly brings it back out. I curl my toes and throw my head back.
He kisses along my throat, and I feel him add another finger. He slowly presses them inside of me, and I wince slightly because his fingers are way bigger than mine. His thumb presses against my clit.
