REMOVING FROM WATTPAD PERMANENTLY ON 1 JANUARY 2025
Mature Content 17+ || Savage Wolves MC Book Two
In the wake of tragedy, Callie never fails at staying positive. But, after having her brother and the rest of the club nearly taken from her, she's a...
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•Callie•
My midday alarm rings out in my loft and I frantically search for my phone to turn off the blaring voice of Taylor Swift coming through the speaker.
When I finally silence the alarm I groan and poke my head out from underneath my feather pillow.
Sunlight streams through my windows and blinds me to the point where I have to cover my head back up with the blankets.
"How are you feeling?"
I scream at the sound of a man's deep voice coming from in front of my bed.
Flailing around in the sheets, I kick a few pillows out of my way and grasp ahold of the gun strapped to the headboard.
I aim it at the intruder but relax as soon as I realize it's only Gray.
Dropping my arm holding the gun back into the plush comforter, I fall back against my pillows and close my eyes, rubbing my other hand across my forehead.
"Jesus, Gray, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
I set the small, sleek gun my brother gave me as a birthday present when I turned eighteen on my bedside table and sit back up in bed.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the clubhouse?" I massage my temples, clenching my eyes shut as the pounding headache from no doubt too many vodka drinks rages within my skull.
"You were drunk," he claims, as if that's enough of an answer.
I look up and stare into his intense grey eyes that seem to penetrate straight to my soul. "How drunk?" I cringe, trying to think back to what I must have done last night.
Oh, God.
Thinking hard enough, it comes back.
It all comes flooding back like a tidal wave of embarrassment.
My cheeks burn with the intensity of all the nonsensical crap that happened in the pool last night.
How I clung to his hips underwater. How I rubbed myself against him just to see what kind of reaction I could get from him.
I was even going to admit I wanted him to have sex with me.
I mentally face palm myself at how immature and stupid all of that was and make a note to cut back on my drinking if he's going to be around.
Next time I decide to get wasted, who knows what'll happen. Maybe I'll jump him and ride him on the pool table in front of the whole club.
My face flushes with color at the thought and I look away and cover my smirk with my palm. That sure would be something.
