All That Matters (15 page)

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Authors: Shannon Flagg

BOOK: All That Matters
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“What? Why would you say that?”

 

“You were staring,” he pointed out. “Or is me being naked freaking you out?”

“I like your ink. I like it very much. And you're not freaking me out,” she replied. In fact, she was very much enjoying the view.

 

“Good because when I'm home, I don't always like to wear clothes. I don't sleep in them if I can help it,” Train said.

 

“You weren't naked last night,” Meg pointed out. He'd come to bed in a pair of sweatpants, she remembered that. More details were starting to fill her head as she reached the point of being fully awake.

 

“I didn't want to freak you out,” he shrugged his shoulders as if it was no big deal. Except he'd sacrificed his comfort for hers. It was a little thing but at the same time huge. “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you going to cry? You said that you'd try and warn me.”

 

“I'm not going to cry.” She could have if she wanted to; there were too many emotions running through her to name. “And you wouldn't have freaked me out. If that's how you like to be, that's how you should be.”

 

“Good to know,” he came over and sat down on the bed. “How are you feeling?” There was such concern in his eyes that she blinked back tears.

 

“Better now,” Meg replied. “Thank you for letting me stay here and for taking care of me.”

 

“You don't have to thank me for that. Kind of pisses me off that you think you have to. You wouldn't be here if I didn't want you here,” Train said defensively.

“I know, that's what makes it special,” Meg informed him. It was even more special as she saw how out of his element he was. If someone had asked her the day before if he cared for her, she'd have said no, but right now, she absolutely knew down to her core that he did.

 

“Are you about to get mushy on me?” He asked. If it wasn't for the small smile on his lips, she would have thought that he was angry, but that was just his face.

 

“Maybe,” she replied.

 

“I'm not a sweet talker.” He stroked his fingers up and down her inner thigh. “And I hate people who baby talk each other, it makes me want to punch them in the throat.”

 

“Duly noted,” Meg replied with amusement. “And I'm not mushy very often. I'm also not a fan of baby talk. I think I can be pretty sweet, though.”

 

“In more ways than one,” he said with a smirk that made her remember what it was like to have him between her thighs. “You sleep alright?”

 

“I did,” she confirmed. She'd slept harder and longer than she thought possible. If she'd dreamed, she didn't remember it. “I really like your bed. I don't want to get out of it.”

 

“So don't. You probably need the rest.”

 

“I'm not thinking about resting,” Meg answered. How could she be thinking about resting when he was naked and inches from her? He really had a fantastic body, lots of muscle, a tight abdomen that led to the most distracting hips she'd ever seen. “Unless you've got plans.”

 

“I've got nowhere else to be. I let Buster know last night that I'd need a few days off. I think I can manage to help you not rest.” He gripped the covers in his hand and pulled them back. The room was warm, it wasn't the temperature that gave her goose bumps, it was the way that he looked at her. “You look really great in my shirt. Take it off.”

Meg pushed down her own issues with her body since Train didn't seem to share her feelings. She shifted and took off the shirt. When she went to fold it, he grabbed it from her hands and tossed it to the side. “You're pretty bossy.”

“Yeah, I am. And you like it, so don't complain.”

 

“I wasn't complaining, just observing.” Meg said playfully.

 

“Observe quietly.” He suggested and laughed when she gasped. “I'm fucking with you, I like those little noises that you make, especially when you start whimpering.”

“I do not whimper. I'm not a puppy.”

 

“Oh, you whimper. It's sexy. Really sexy, just like the rest of you.” He ran his hands over her thighs.

 

“And you said that you don't talk sweet.” Meg settled back down on the bed. “That sounded pretty sweet.”

 

“I'm not sweet,” he corrected her as he gripped her legs and pushed them apart. His hands were rough as they slid up her thighs, opened them wider. “But you are sexy, that's just the truth. Kind of pisses me off that you don't seem to see it. Just looking at you gets me hard, you saw that, right?”

 

“I did,” Meg confirmed. Since she'd gotten wet at the sight of him, she figured that they were even. He slid his thumb across her clit. Her entire body clenched at the sensation. “Oh!” She arched her back as he applied pressure.

 

“You trust me?” The question surprised her. She thought the fact that she trusted him was a given, especially if you took into account the exact position they were in at the moment. Meg nodded, not sure that she trusted her voice if she spoke. “Say it.”

 

“I trust you,” she gasped the words as he slid two fingers into her without warning, his thumb still pressed against her clit.

 

“Good girl.” He began to move his hand hard and fast until her hips were moving with him. “That's right. Come on. Come on.” Meg was surprised just how well he knew her body and just how quickly he was able to make her come. He obviously had figured out some trick, she was going to have to ask him to teach her because it felt amazing.

 

She opened her eyes when she felt his hands leave her body and his weight moving off of the bed. He walked over to the dresser. Meg sat up, watched as he took something out of the drawer. When he turned, she realized it was actually two things, a pair of handcuffs and a black scarf. “Train?”

 

“You said you trust me, right?” He came over to the bed, sat down next to her. He laid the cuffs down over her leg. They were cold but not as heavy as she thought that they'd be. Meg reached out and picked them up. “You'll like it.”

 

“What if I don't?”

 

“All you've got to do is say that, I'll stop. Someone didn't stop. Someone hurt you.” Meg didn't deny it. What was the point? Instead, she nodded. “Was it Josh?”

 

“What? No. We're dysfunctional but not that dysfunctional. No. It was... it was an old boyfriend. I don't want to talk about it. It's over. Tell me how you'd use these.”

 

“Let me show you,” he leaned over and kissed her lightly. “Lie back and put your hands up to the headboard.”

 

Meg did as he asked, even though she felt like she might see her heart pump right out of her chest. She looked up at the headboard as she reached for it. “Is this why you've got a headboard?”

 

“I got the headboard because I liked it, this is just a perk.”

 

“You do this often?” Meg asked.

 

“Not that often. Sometimes I like to get tied up.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “I've never used this headboard for this before. You're the first.”

 

Meg realized that meant something. Just like it meant something that he'd welcomed her into his home. “I trust you.”

 

“Good girl. Tell me if they're too tight.” He fastened the cuffs around one wrist and then the other. Meg felt her heart race, but she was calmer than she'd thought she would be. Calmer because of the man who'd just restrained her to his bed, the man who'd just told her she was the first woman he'd brought into his bed. The calm faltered when he reached for the scarf. “Too much?”

 

“No,” Meg shook her head and tugged at her wrists. She couldn't really move; it shouldn't have been a surprise but it was. “I'm good.” She shut her eyes and waited to feel the smooth silk on her face. The doorbell rang.

 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me,” he grumbled. Meg watched as he undid the cuffs. “Get up and get dressed.” He got off the bed, grabbed his clothes. She found an outfit from the clothes he'd grabbed, yoga pants, a tee shirt and thick socks. Train was out of the door and heading for the stairs before she'd gotten the socks all the way on.

 

She nearly fell twice but she got the socks on, ran after him. She saw that he'd come up with a gun from somewhere but there was no time to think about that as he yanked open the door. “What's going on?”

 

“Is Meg here?” Monroe asked.

 

Meg moved towards the door at a run as she recognized his voice. “Is it the boys? Did something happen to them? To Leo? To Josh?” Meg rushed forward. “Just tell me Monroe, tell me!” She'd have grabbed him and shaken him, but Train laid his hand on her back.

 

“Nothing happened to them. They're both fine. Maggie's friend said that Joshua has calmed down and he's working with them. Leo's having a good time, there's twin girls about his age in the home he's at, but he won't be there long.” Monroe grinned widely.

 

“What does that mean?” Meg was glad to hear that they were okay, but why wouldn't he be there long? What was going on? What had she missed? She felt Train's hands on her arms, so she leaned back into him.

 

“It means that they're going to give you temporary custody of Leo, since he was already in your custody essentially to begin with. Joshua is going to be a more complicated thing,” Monroe explained.

 

“How is that possible? Yesterday they said that...” Yesterday, he'd said that it would be weeks or months before she could expect to have the boys home. Meg had never been more confused in her life.

 

“How'd you pull it off, Monroe?” Train asked.

 

“I had some favors left, and I still have a few friends,” Monroe replied. “If you want, we can go and grab Leo now.”

 

“I want!” Meg let out a laugh and grabbed Train. He stiffened for the briefest of seconds but then wrapped his arms around her.

 

“I told you so,” he whispered in her ear.

 

Meg squeezed him back as tight as he held her. “Can we go get him now, please?”

 

“Of course we can.” He released her, and she spun around, ready to head out the door and go. Maybe, just maybe, this was all going to turn out okay.

 

“It should be just the two of us,” Monroe cleared his throat. “The social worker and her boss will be there, less bikers is probably better than more.”

 

Meg didn't miss the look the two men exchanged. She didn't understand what was going on, but she wasn't about to let it get past the glare stage when she needed to get to Leo as soon as possible. “You're a biker and an ex-cop, I'm not sure how it gets worse than that.” Meg said cooly. “I want Train with me.” She gripped her hands into his lower arm, looked up at him. “You'll come, right? Fuck me, I've got to change.” She couldn't go there in a pair of yoga pants with a hole in the knee and a tank top that had Scooby Doo on it. Train had apparently emptied out what she called her last ditch drawer. It was usually only opened when she'd not had a chance to do laundry in more than a week. “I need to change first, though.”

 

“I'll put on a nicer shirt,” Train told her. “Give me a minute, and then we'll head to your place.”

 

Meg watched him go and waited for the lecture she knew was going to come from Monroe. She recognized the expression from the days that he still packed a badge. He didn't disappoint. The second that Train was out of sight, he turned to her. “You sure that you're doing alright, Meg? It's not like you to be reckless.”

 

“Excuse me?” Anger sparked inside of her. “Reckless?”

“It could jeopardize your chances with Leo. Like you said, even me being there is going to be an issue. I've got some friends, but I've got more people who hate me. Train's an outlaw. I'm just trying to look out for you.”

 

“I don't need you to look out for me. I'm a grown woman. I make my own choices, it doesn't matter if you like them. I appreciate everything that you did to make this happen. I swear, I do. But I'm not going to let you judge me for what I feel about Train.”

 

“What do you feel about him, Meg?” Monroe asked. “You just met him like ten minutes ago. I know that you've been single a while and that you probably...”

 

“You're going to want to shut up now.” Meg glared at him.

 

“She's right about that.” Train spoke from behind them. He'd come down the stairs without either of them noticing. “You got a problem with me, and we'll go a few rounds sometime. Right now, though, we should probably focus on getting Meg one of her boys back. Let's go.”

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