Eight Years Later (Book one of The Knights Of Hell) #Wattys2016

Chapter Fourteen:

I'll face an army

Can't fucking harm me

Out on the front line

That's where you'll find me

- Got Your Six - Five Finger Death Punch

Chapter Fourteen:

Parker's P.O.V

"Fuck!" Braxton tipped his head back as he came inside me while I clung to his shoulders, my fingernails digging into him as I bit down on his neck to muffle my scream. He slowly pulled out of me and placed me firmly on the ground so I wasn't wrapped around him.

The shower water pelted down on us as we gasped for air and Brax cleaned off his dick.

"Can I shower now?" I laughed.

"I suppose." He chuckled and kissed me quickly as he stepped out the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. I quickly washed myself and rinsed out the conditioner that had been in my hair when Braxton barged into my bathroom and fucked me against the wall. I got out and dried myself off, going into my room where the culprit himself was sitting on my bed in nothing but his jeans and leather cut, cleaning his guns and getting the ready.

I pulled on a blue underwear set and turned to my wardrobe, catching Brax, mid way through reloading his handgun, staring at me.

"Such a perve." I rolled my eyes at him.

"Have you seen your body? Can you blame me? I spent eight years in the pen babe, I've got a lot of perving to catch up on." He smirked.

"Well wipe your drool, it's not attractive." I looked at him, my smirk matching his.

"I'm always attractive, drool and all." He leaned back and winked at me, looking like a Greek fucking God with his abs on full display.

I stuck my finger up at him and strutted into my wardrobe, hearing his laugh as I pulled on my dark jeans and grey tank top. I riffled through the wardrobe again and groaned.

"Whats up?" Brax mumbled, standing right behind me.

"I can't find my fucking cut anywhere. Chase will kill me if I'm not wearing it when we go intercept the shipment." I frowned, looking around. "Where the fuck is it? I hardly ever take it off." I threw clothes around and screamed out in frustration. Now I had just made an even bigger mess, turning my wardrobe into a floor-drobe.

"He's going to murder me." I turned to Brax, who had disappeared. "Fucking convicts. They are like ninjas." I growled to myself as I threw on my motorcycle boots, closing the floor-drobe door behind me. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Brax was standing beside the bed, staring at me with caution.

"Why do you look like I'm about to feed you to the dogs?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Parker.. I fucking suck at this shit." He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair.

"Spit it out, dipshit." I sighed and smirked at him.

"Shut up, I'm serious." He laughed, then sobered. "Parker, we have a lot of history. A lot of history. We had something real eight years ago and I never stopped thinking about you, just like you didn't with me. Now, we are here and I'm not making the same mistake again."

"Brax, what the hell is this?" I asked, utterly confused.

"Would you shut up for two God damn minutes!" He growled then ran his hand over his face. "God, you frustrate me, woman." He muttered.