Tainted Oaths: A Collateral Damage Novel Book One Read online

  He moves a little and mumbles something I can’t make out before pulling me closer, his warm breath fanning the side of my face.

  My body tingles with awareness, making me want to curse at the injustice of it all. If it had been any other man, I’d be mid panic attack now, but Wyatt moves through my defenses with the ease of a ghost. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

  I’ve ruminated over what makes this man so special and it always comes back to one thing. Trust. Wyatt is the only man I have ever trusted so completely that my body doesn’t shut down around him. I know in my soul he’s no threat to me. Well possibly to my heart, but that’s not Wyatt’s fault. That’s all on me.

  When Wyatt’s large hand glides up the side of my rib cage and his thumb skims the underside of my breast, I suck in a sharp breath. The hand freezes.

  Wyatt lifts his head and looks down at me. His sleep-fuddled brain must clear enough to see why I reacted. He yanks his hand back as if he had been burned and rolls away.

  “Shit. Sorry, doll. I must have been dreaming.”

  Right. Dreaming. And it sure as shit wouldn’t have been a dream about me. Feeling cold and oddly exposed, I climb from my bed and head to the bathroom, taking care of business before washing my hands and staring at my face in the mirror.

  My inky black curls look a little out of control, likely due to me moving around in my sleep. They’ve grown so long now that they skim my ass. Everyone comments on my hair. I’ll admit, it is one of my best features but it’s a lot of hard work to keep it from looking like I’ve been electrocuted. More often than not, I end up piling it into a messy bun while fighting the urge to cut it off. The only reason I don’t is that I know Wyatt likes it. He tells me often and he’s always playing with a strand when we watch TV or burying his head in the black waves while we sleep.

  “God, I’m pathetic,” I mutter to myself, my gray eyes scowling back at me with condemnation. I need to get a life instead of pining away for a man who sees me as nothing more than a kid.

  Stomping away from my judgmental reflection, I head to the kitchen and put the coffee machine on before rummaging through the fridge for something to eat. Settling on eggs, I make quick work of scrambling some while I toast bread before serving it up on two plates.

  Wyatt emerges from the bedroom, likely enticed by the smell of food. I give him a small smile before sliding the plate over to him and grabbing silverware from the drawer beside my hip.

  “Coffee?”

  “Please.” He nods, watching me move around the kitchen. Even as I try to act immune, I’m aware of the feel of his eyes on me.

  “You, okay? You seem quiet this morning,” he asks as I sit opposite him and take a bite of my eggs.

  I shrug, playing off my weird mood. “I’m fine. What are your plans for the day?”

  “I’m heading over to Chaos for a bit. The guys have a job for me to do.”

  I frown as he eats his eggs. It’s very rare for a motorcycle club to call on anyone who isn’t a member. Perhaps it’s something for Megan.

  “Sounds ominous.” Now it’s his turn to shrug.

  “I guess I’ll find out when I get there. I’ll head over as soon as a prospect gets here.”

  I bristle at the fact I’ll have someone hovering around me all day, but I don’t fight it. I know it’s for a good reason. Not only has a lot of shit been going down with the club, but there is also still the fact that a man bought and paid for me and never collected his bounty. It never sat right with the club and as a result, I’m always with a babysitter. Usually it’s Wyatt, so it’s fine, but days like today when he has to leave, I’m handed off to someone else.

  “Okay. Well, we have some new stock coming in today, so I’ll be up to my elbows in candles and essential oils. The poor prospect is going to end up smelling like a brothel by the time he leaves,” I joke.

  “I doubt it’s the first time,” he grunts before finishing off his food and washing his plate.

  When a knock sounds at the door, he wipes his hands and opens it to reveal Grim on the other side.

  “What’s wrong? Is Megan okay?”

  “Calm down. Megan is fine. I’m actually here to see Jenna.” I frown at that. Nobody comes to see me.

  Standing up, I make my way over to him only to find myself blocked by Wyatt’s big body.

  “Why, what do you want with her?” he all but growls.

  “Well, if you give him a chance, I’m sure he’ll tell me. Yeesh. Don’t you have to get going?”

  Wyatt turns to face me, ignoring Grim, who smirks at me over Wyatt’s shoulder.

  “You call me if you need me, okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He steps closer, his hand on my jaw, his thumb on my lip.

  “You call me if you need me,” he orders.

  “Okay, Wyatt,” I whisper, not understanding the vibe in the room.

  He nods, happy with my answer before kissing my forehead and glaring at Grim.

  “Look after her.” He grunts before grabbing his keys off the counter and heading out the door.

  “And Megan says I’m bossy.”

  “You have no idea,” I mutter, directing him to the sofa.

  “So, what can I do for you?”

  “I want to throw Megan a baby shower, but I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

  I feel my mouth drop open before I lift my hand, stick a finger in my ear, and wiggle it.

  “I’m sorry, but could you repeat that because it sounds to me like Mr. Big Badass Biker just said he wanted to throw a baby shower.”

  “Ha, ha, funny girl. You give Wyatt this much lip?”

  “Oh, don’t you worry. He has to deal with far worse.”

  “I bet,” he mumbles before frowning at me. “Are you going to mock me or help me, woman?”

  “Firstly, I’m gonna do both, and secondly, don’t call me woman.”

  He laughs and shakes his head, which makes me smile in return. Grim has always reminded me a little of Wyatt. Kind of quiet and standoffish, but since reconnecting with his sister Viddy, it’s as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

  “Fine. As long as you help, I don’t care how much of a pain in the ass you are.”

  “Then we have a deal. Leave it with me and I’ll sort everything out. You just let me know the when and where and a rough idea how many people will be going.”

  He stands up so I follow suit, not a fan of a man standing over me.

  “I’ll get those details over to you tonight. Now, do you want to finish getting ready? I’m going to open up the shop with you, then a prospect will be by in an hour to swap with me.”

  “You’re going to help me in the shop? Sweet. I’ll go get changed. You can just leave your man card on the counter right there,” I call over my shoulder as he snorts.

  “I’m surrounded by smartass women,” he yells back.

  “You wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  Chapter Three

  Jenna

  “Hey.” I look up from painting my toes when I hear the door open.

  Wyatt looks at me, his eyes moving over my bare legs to my black toenails before he frowns.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I chuckle before placing the lid back on the bottle. Some people bake or clean when they’re stressed. I paint my toes.

  “I don’t know, just feeling a little out of sorts I guess,” I answer with a shrug.

  He locks the door behind him and kicks off his boots before prowling toward me and sitting on the coffee table, where my feet are.

  Lifting them into his lap, he holds one up, completely oblivious of the sudden galloping of my heart before he blows across my toes.

  Holy Mother of God.

  I barely manage to bite back a whimper as my panties flood, taking me by surprise.

  “Talk to me,” he orders before blowing on the wet polish once more.

  “I…Wait. Huh?” I mumble incoherently as my brain misf
ires.

  “Talk. You know, with words? What’s going on?”

  What’s going on is that I’m about to have a spontaneous orgasm, which will be about as mortifying as coming all over my gynecologist’s fingers.

  In my defense, the man was far too hot to have been a gynecologist. There should be rules about that sort of thing to prevent unsuspecting women from squirting in his eyeball. Not that that part happened, thank god.

  Needless to say, I changed doctors and never spoke of it to anyone. Hopefully the man re-evaluated his career choices and went on to become a Navy SEAL or a porn star or something else more suited to his needs and where his talented fingers could be put to use. Oh, bomb disposal. That would work. He did after all make my ovaries detonate.

  “Your face is all flushed and your breathing is ragged. Are you sick or something?” Wyatt asks, concerned as he leans over and places his hand against my forehead.

  “No.” I cough to clear my throat but the scent of Wyatt invading my senses is not helping in the slightest. The man needs to back up before my wet panties turn into a slip and slide.

  “I’m just—”

  “Out of sorts,” he finishes for me. His eyes stare into mine, seeing far too much and yet not seeing me at all. He nods and sits back, returning to fornicating with my feet.

  “Maybe we should do something. You’ve been cooped up for a while now. You’re nineteen, doll. You should be out living your life, not stuck in here with me.”

  I frown at that, the heat in my veins rapidly cooling.

  “I like being here with you, Wyatt. I’m not stuck anywhere.”

  With a squeeze of my foot, he sighs. “All I meant was, you work so hard. You need to have fun too.”

  “Well, what do you suggest, oh wise one?”

  “I don’t mind. We could go out to the movies or for dinner or something?”

  Yeah, that’s not a good idea. In my head, it would veer too close to what I imagine a date would be like, which would be fine if I thought my feelings for the man were in any way reciprocated.

  “What about paintball?” I blurt out. That’s about as unromantic as I can think of and I always thought it looked kind of fun.

  He pauses and smiles. “That sounds like fun. I actually know a guy who owns a place, so I’ll give him a call.”

  “Of course, you do.” I roll my eyes. “Is there anyone you don’t know?” Apart from me, I nearly add. I hold myself back, wondering when I turned into a bitter shrew.

  “It’s not so much me but who I’m friends with.” He waves me off, climbing to his feet.

  “Have you eaten yet?”

  “Yeah, I made spaghetti. Yours is in the fridge. I wasn’t sure what time you’d be back.”

  “Fuck yes, I love your spaghetti.” He groans when he pulls it out of the fridge, making me laugh.

  “Do you need a minute alone with it?” I tease, making him grin.

  “I’m good, but come sit with me and tell me about your day.”

  So that’s what I do. I sit beside him in my PJs and talk about the customers that came through the door today and the new prospect from Chaos watching me in Wyatt’s absence. He tenses over that part, his protective instincts not liking that a man he doesn’t know was with me all day. I’m used to it and the guy was nothing but polite and respectful.

  “How about you? How was your day?”

  “It was okay. Better now I’m home.” And that’s it. In the beginning, it would frustrate me that he wouldn’t elaborate more but Wyatt is a man of few words. At least he answers now instead of grunting, as he did in the beginning.

  “You wanna watch a movie with me before you turn in for the night?” I ask, not ready to go to bed and be on my own again.

  “Sure. Let me just jump in the shower and I’m all yours.”

  Oh, if only that were true.

  “Any requests?”

  “You choose, but for the love of god, make it something other than a chick flick.”

  I can’t help but giggle. He scowls at me, which makes me laugh harder, but I can’t help it. When I was younger, I went through a big romance phase and poor Wyatt ended up having to sit his way through every tear-inducing swoon-worthy moment with me.

  “No chick flicks, I promise.”

  When he heads to the shower, I rinse his plate and place it in the dishwasher before making a large bowl of popcorn. I grab two cans of Coke from the fridge and carry everything into the living room, placing them on the table. I scroll through the movies, looking for something to catch my eye before I spot 13 Ghosts. The house pictured in the thumbnail looks like Viddy’s place so I figure, why not? I cue it up and wait for Wyatt, who strolls in a minute later wearing a pair of sweatpants that should be illegal and nothing else.

  I close my eyes and mentally scrub my brain of the dick imprint through the gray material and the droplets of water still running down his chest and when I open them again, he has thankfully pulled on a T-shirt. Now as long as I keep my eyes above cock level, I should be okay.

  “So, what are you subjecting me to?” he asks, dropping down on the sofa beside me, his thigh pressing against mine.

  “13 Ghosts. Have you seen it before?”

  “Doesn’t ring any bells. Are you going to need me to protect you?” he teases, making me poke him as I hit play.

  “I’m not afraid of ghosts.” Not when I’m all too aware of the monsters in real life.

  I sit back and tug the comforter over me and lean over to grab the popcorn, placing it on my lap as the movie starts.

  We sit in silence until we are about fifteen minutes into the film when I feel him turn toward me.

  “What?”

  “Is it me or does that house look like Viddy’s?”

  “Huh? No, I don’t see it,” I lie through my teeth while hiding my smirk. I know all too well how much Viddy’s place freaks him out and he’s not alone in that. I guess he has a good reason. It used to be a mental asylum before becoming a hospital back in the day. A hospital that had a serial killer among their staff, bumping people off. As a result, everyone considered the place haunted. I’m pretty sure that’s what attracted Viddy to it in the first place.

  As the movie progresses and the ghosts start to take over, I somehow find myself on Wyatt’s lap with his arms banded tightly around my waist and his head resting on my shoulder.

  “You know, most people hide behind a cushion, not a human. But don’t worry, Wyatt, I’ll protect you,” I tease, throwing his words back at him and making him growl.

  In a slick move, I find myself airborne for a second before I end up on my back with Wyatt leaning over me, his fingers digging into my ribs, making me howl with laughter.

  “Alright, Alright, I give. You are the manliest man I know and totally not afraid of ghosts,” I bellow out when I can catch my breath.

  He chuckles, leaning over me to whisper in my ear.

  “Good girl. I’m glad you remember who the boss is,” he murmurs before nipping my lobe.

  I shiver in response, my whole body breaking out in goosebumps as I suddenly notice the position we’re in and the way he is pressed against me.

  “Say it, doll. Say, Wyatt, you are the boss.”

  He pulls back a little with a victory gleam in his eye as I lick my lips and whisper, “You’re the boss, sir.” I don’t know why I add that at the end. I do it without conscious thought but Wyatt’s eyes flare and I swear to god I feel his dick twitch against me before he is gone in the blink of an eye. By the time I get my bearings, he is already heading toward the bedroom.

  “I have an early morning so I’ll catch you later. Night, Jenna,” he calls out, his voice tight.

  He closes his bedroom door firmly behind him before I can even choke out a response.

  “Night,” I whisper. To the backdrop of a bunch of murdering ghosts, I slip my fingers beneath the waistband of my shorts and get myself off, using the heroine’s screams to cover my own.

  Chapter Four

&n
bsp; Wyatt

  “We need to hurry before Ella wakes up,” I warn her, as I shove her down on the bed and yank her shorts and panties down her legs. She giggles at my hurried movements but if I’ve learned anything since becoming a dad it’s that you have to make the most of each moment because I swear my daughter has some kind of sensor that alerts her when her parents are getting frisky.

  “Aw, is somebody feeling extra horny today?” she teases as she reaches down to free my cock from the confines of my shorts.

  An ear-piercing scream has me bolting upright in bed as Jenna’s terror yanks me from my dream.

  I throw myself out of bed and stumble down the hall to Jenna’s room.

  The cover is balled up by her feet so I climb in behind her and pull her to my chest. The second I do, her cries turn to sobs and she breaks apart in my arms. Turning her, I hold her as tightly as I can without hurting her and let her purge her demons, not giving a single fuck about how soaked my chest is.

  Eventually she settles and with a barely whispered “sorry” her breathing evens out as she once more falls asleep.

  Tonight was a bad one. I mean, none of them are great but sometimes it takes longer to calm her than others. Those are the times I wish I could slip into her dreams and annihilate everyone who ever hurt her.

  Lying here with her in my arms brings her comfort, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling useless.

  She shifts slightly, her knee bending as she draws her leg up over my thigh. It’s only then that I realize she’s in just a tank top and panties, likely because the AC has been acting up again.

  We might have this routine down to an art form but Jenna sure as shit isn’t the same little kid I used to save from monsters. She has filled out in all the right places—places I shouldn’t be noticing. My soul might be dead, but my body certainly isn’t.

  Waking up hard because I’d been dreaming about my wife, then crawling into bed with another woman makes me feel like scum, even though I’d never begrudge Jenna a restful night’s sleep.

  Carefully, I push her knee a little lower, away from the danger zone, and will my dick to go down. It takes far longer than it should but eventually, I fall into a dreamless sleep.