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Jax and Hunter had a thing for sharing women, which was something he’d never fucking understand. He didn’t like to share anything. Too much time spent in foster care in his childhood where nothing belonged to him had made him territorial about his stuff. And to share a woman with another man in the same fucking bed? No way. His gaze tracked to the bedroom where Delainey was asleep and he snarled quietly at the thought of another man putting his motherfucking hands on her
body. He’d rip them off. Shake it off, man. You’re not thinking straight, came that voice of reason that only made sense when he wasn’t balls deep inside of his curvy girl.
So, yeah, things were tense between the Dogs and The Kings, which meant, sure there was a possibility this was set up by one of the Kings but as much as he’d love to pin this situation on one of those bastards, he knew Jax and Hunter would never play that dirty. They liked to look a man in the face, so the guy knew exactly where the hurt was coming from. Had to respect that, right?
So that left looking internally for someone who might have a beef with him and externally to their business contacts. Fuck me, that’s a long list. He scrubbed his face with his hands then returned to the bedroom to slide in beside Delainey, pulling her gloriously soft body to him and holding her tightly. Her curves fit snugly against him, his cock resting perfectly between the cleft in her ass as if it were meant to go there.
If he were a different man, this might’ve been his life, with this woman. He didn’t want to give the idea oxygen but he did anyway. Delainey was a good woman — the kind you married. The fact that she was just about as insatiable as he was in the bedroom was the cherry on top. Just being pressed against her roused his rooster but he was content to allow his eyelids to drift shut. Hell, this was probably gonna be the best night sleep he’d had since forever.
Enjoy it while it lasts…things gonna change quick enough.
***
Delainey awoke the next morning, sore in all the right places and happier than she’d ever been. She stretched like a cat basking in the warm summer sun of an open window and a sigh drifted from her mouth. In spite of her drowsy happiness her mind immediately went to the mountain of work that awaited her. Her clients didn’t care that she had a bad ass biker sex god hiding out in her house, all they cared about was if their project was done on time. Oh, screw that. She had plenty of time to worry about work. She wanted to get out of the apartment, that much she knew. Bronx looked like a sweet little boy, all the worries wiped from his face as he slept. In comparison, she probably looked knocked out on narcotics when she was asleep, drooling and snoring, but of course, Bronx looked adorable. So unfair. She rolled to her side to watch him sleep. Was that weird? She wasn’t sure. Probably. But she didn’t care. When was the last time she had such a gorgeous man in her bed? Oh, wait — never. As if sensing someone was watching him, Bronx’s eyes popped open. When he saw it was her, a slow, lazy smile spread across his sensual mouth and she was tempted to brush a kiss across his lips. “You’re up early,” he said with a sleep-roughened voice. “Everything okay?”
“No complaints. How about you?”
He chuckled. “All good over here. Your bed’s far better than mine. Slept like a baby.”
“Well, I did spend quite a lot on this bed,” she admitted, remembering the exorbitant price tag. “I spent my entire bonus on a big project that I’d finished early for a client. I figured having a good bed was a solid investment.”
“I agree,” he said, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. “So what’s on your agenda today?”
“Well, since you asked… I was thinking about getting out of the apartment for the day. What do you think about that?”
He regarded her with open interest. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I was thinking about packing a picnic. I think it’s going to be a nice enough day to go up to Lake Harvard. I know a really nice spot that’s fairly secluded and it’s only about a 45 minute drive away from here. How does that sound?”
“A picnic? By a lake?” He rubbed the stubble on his chin, thinking. She wished she could catch a glimpse of what was running through his head right now. Did he hate that idea? Did bikers not enjoy picnics by the lake? She bit her lip as she waited. Just about the time she was going to rescind her offer, he agreed with a shrug. “What the hell, I could use a change of scenery.”
A big smile followed her wash of relief at his agreement. “Okay, then it’s time to get out of bed, lazy bones,” she said, switching into get-up-and-go mode. “We need to shower and I need to pack our lunch. Do you have a preference for your sandwich, ham or roast beef? Or both?”
He chuckled. “Whatever. As long as there’s coffee, that’s all I care about right now.”
Delainey nodded and started to climb from the bed but he grabbed her and pulled her back. “Actually, I lied. There’s something else I would like before coffee.” He pulled her in close for a deep kiss, a kiss that reminded her of all the things they’d been doing all night long and she melted like plastic left near an open flame. Was it just him? Or would any man like him have this effect on her? She had no way of knowing but she did know that the way he made her feel was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Within moments she was straddling his straining cock and riding him like there was no tomorrow, because for all she knew — there wasn’t.
Afterwards, Delainey held up the empty condom box with a frown. “Oh, darn it. We’re low on supplies. Do you think we’ll need to buy more?” The expression on his face made her laugh. “Okay, dumb question. But in all fairness, I didn’t want to assume that you are going to be hanging around long enough to need a new box.”
“Let’s just say this…even if I only stayed for another two days, we would still need another box. Maybe even the value pack.”
She laughed, delighted. “Awesome. Then we can stop by the pharmacy on the way out to the lake. I need to pick up sunscreen anyway.”
They showered together — honestly, she didn’t know how she would ever shower by herself ever again — and within the hour they were packed and ready to go. But as they walked out to her car, as she went to the driver side door, Bronx gently took her keys from her hand with a look that said, I’m driving, and a move that should’ve been annoying ended up making her feel cherished. It wasn’t that she couldn’t drive, she was fully capable but it was the fact that he simply took control without question. Maybe it was old-fashioned, but it made her feel very feminine and she liked it.
The only thing that would’ve made this even better was if she was climbing on top of his motorcycle, pressed up against him as they hit the open road. There was something so sexy about that idea that she made up her mind on the spot to make it happen, at least once. “So what kind of bike do you ride?” she asked once they were on the road.
At the mention of his motorcycle, a flash of true distress crossed his expression. “It’s a sweet ride. She’s a beast. Custom Harley, fat, in-your-face front end, a paint job that cost me as much as the bike. Lots of custom work on that baby,” he said with obvious pride, adding with a glower that made her shiver. “And if there’s a single scratch, someone’s ass is going to pay.”
“Where is it parked? Is it safe?”
“Yeah, it should be safe enough for now. No one’s going to mess with my bike until they know that I’m not around anymore. But I’d feel more comfortable if it were with me, obviously.”
She nodded, understanding. “Is there any way that you could get it safely?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. But don’t worry about it, I’m working on something.”
It was that something that made her nervous. She shouldn’t ask but she had to know. “Who tried to shoot you?”
“I wish I knew. The truth is there’s a long list of people who would love to shoot me. I haven’t exactly made a ton of friends over the years.”
Questions she probably didn’t want to know the answers to bubbled on her tongue. She should just let it go. There was wisdom in the saying ignorance was bliss. But she was a curious person by nature — in fact, Zoe was always telling her she should’ve gone into journalism instead of graphic arts but alas, Delainey had no talent for words. “So why do people hate you so much, I mean, enough to want you dead?” she asked.
“Honey, I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Things I had to do to survive, and some things I did just because I wanted to. I warned you that I’m not a good man. That shit comes with conseque
nces. You know what I mean?”
A smart woman would take his words at face value and at least thank him for giving her the easy way out. But there was something about him that made her think he wasn’t as bad as he liked to think he was. She sensed goodness in him. Maybe it was in the way he touched her or the way that he looked at her. There was something about him that made her want to defend, and hold him. “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of,” she said, with all sincerity. To this admission he barked a short laugh that she found insulting. She frowned, saying crisply, “What? Just because I’m not some outlaw biker I can’t have things in my past that I’m ashamed of?”
He sobered, as if realizing he’d hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be an asshole. It’s just that our lives are so different, sweetheart. I can’t imagine that you could have something in your history that could be as bad as what’s in mine.”
“It’s not a pissing contest. We’re not comparing and trying to win some prize with our war stories,” she reminded him. “All I’m saying is that I have had things happen in my life that I wish I could forget.”
“Such as?”
She shot him a wary look. “Maybe I don’t want to tell you. Maybe you’ll laugh at me.”
Bronx took the rebuke like a penitent man and actually tried to make amends. “I won’t laugh,” he promised and she heard the ring of truth in his tone. “Go on, I want to hear your story. Please.”
Delainey drew a deep breath, not quite sure if she was ready to share this particular story but there was something about Bronx that made her feel safe, even when it shouldn’t. He was the last person she should ever feel safe with but she sensed in her heart that he would rip someone to shreds with his bare hands to defend her. It was crazy, she didn’t know why she had that feeling. They were practically strangers but as much body fluids as they’d been exchanging in the last two days she felt as if she knew his soul. She supposed it was only natural that she would want to share something about her that revealed vulnerability. “Remember how I told you dating was hard for a big girl? Well, imagine high school. High school is probably the worst place in the world for someone who doesn’t fit in the cultural standard for pretty. The school I went to was your average suburban, upper-middle-class school. Most people had pretty good lives, and some people had lots of money. My parents were definitely in the upper middle-class bracket. We drove nice cars, had a nice house and I never really went without for anything I needed. But I’d always struggled with my weight. I tried countless diets, starved myself, tried bulimia once but discovered that I have an almost nonexistent gag reflex —“
