As I turn off the ignition, I lean on the steering wheel, my thoughts a chaotic mess. I haven’t seen Stone’s sexy ass except for the day when I saw him visiting his mother. Right after Stone drove away on his bike while I watched from the shadows of the store next door, I called in a favor from Kingsley. Her father’s people can find anyone. It took a few days, but her father’s former security team, which had worked for the FBI, was able to find his name. Dr. Stefan Hayes. He’s been convicted of manslaughter. He spent six years in prison. He enrolled in Binghamton University’s online program while incarcerated and earned his PhD in Anthropology, specializing in Forensic Anthropology, by the time he was released. He has a doctorate. A fucking doctorate. And I want to know more about him, butasking him questions is out of the question. Not after I slapped his face and told him to fuck off.
It felt good to slap him. The way he made me feel that day in his tattoo chair was beyond comprehension. I have never, and I mean never, fucking ever come that hard with a man. Most times, my orgasms were mild at best. With Reed, I was lucky if I had one 20% of the time. So yeah, I spazzed when Stone acted like eating a woman out while she got a tattoo was commonplace for him. And you know what? For all I know, it is. He made me feel shitty, cheap. So like a hermit, I holed up in Kingsley’s gorgeous penthouse apartment, wallowing, drinking wine, sketching his stupidly gorgeous face, eating my weight in sushi and Thai food.
I spent almost two weeks vegging out, only going to my gallery and back to her place when I was done. I didn’t sleep in my apartment, too scared I would run into him. I could just imagine it. Me, red-faced while he acted like he didn’t finger and tongue fuck me almost to death. I did everything in my power not to think about him.
So yeah, seeing him is the last thing I need. Not today. I’m not in the mood; not after everything that’s happened. Not after what we did during my tattoo, what I know about his mother, or the sweet gift he got for my niece. All of it makes me more confused than ever. I bite my bottom lip, squinting through the windshield, trying to see if it is, in fact, his bike parked in my brother’s circular driveway. Maybe it belongs to Riggs or Onyx. Or it could belong to another biker. My brother seems to have befriended a multitude of bikers lately. It doesn’t look like his bike. It’s different. More silver and white. I breathe a sigh of relief because I don’t want to have to leave.
I gather my bag and my courage. No sense in staying in the car. Opening the door with more force than necessary, I’m angry at myself that I’m contemplating hauling my ass back onthe highway. His bike shouldn’t make my heart rate speed up. It shouldn’t make my palms sweaty, but it does. I drop my keys in the pocket of my sweatshirt when suddenly a cramp twists in my lower abdomen, and I curse. With my luck lately, that cramp just signaled that my period is on its way. The pain makes me start to sweat. Dammit. Now I’ll feel like shit, crampy and irritable, while I have to pretend to smile.
“You’ll stay a few hours and then head home,” I say aloud.
Turning the knob of the door to my brother’s home, I walk in to hear the sounds of music playing from his hidden speaker system. I can smell the BBQ and my mouth waters. I haven’t eaten all morning; I’ve been too busy painting and preparing the gallery for Jacinda’s opening. My back aches from painting the upper trim around the gallery wall. Next up are the floors, and I think I’m going to shelve my stubbornness and hire someone. No way in hell I can sand and stain 6,000 square feet on my own. I’m not that much of a masochist.
Stepping through the back sliding door, I shield my face from the sun and look around for the girls. Tate and Meela are cuddled up on a lounge chair, with Tate’s arm around Meela’s shoulder. She looks content, and from the looks of the hickey on her neck, she’s enjoying great sex. If memory serves, Meela’s confessions about Tate McLaughlin categorize him as a top-tier lover. Lucky.
Dru is sitting at the picnic table, under an umbrella, rocking Bruce, her one-month-old son, with Silas sitting behind them, holding both in his arms while he whispers in Dru’s ear. The blush on her face tells me all I need to know. Sophia is next to them, feeding Val under a blanket. Every few minutes, Jace lifts the blanket, and Sophia slaps his hand away, rolling her eyes.
Spotting them, I jog down, eager to hold Valentina as soon as she’s finished eating. Once I reach them, I slip off my flip flops and scoot closer. “Hi, can I burp her when you’re done?”
“Perfect timing.” Jace looks at me with a cautious smile as if I’m about to explode. I just might if he mentions Stone to me again. It’s been a little weird between us since he confronted me about his friend, basically warned me away from him. Not to mention, I may not be able to hide my blush over how I acted while Stone’s tongue was buried inside me.
“Why?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“’Cause Sophia and I need to use the bathroom.”
Dru laughs and shakes her head. I lift a brow at the way she cackles. “You both need to use the bathroom? At the same time?”
Sophia slaps Jace’s hand again. “No, Camryn, we both don’t need to use the bathroom. Your brother is a horn dog and wants to see my breasts.”
“Val never finishes, and I want to help you pump. They are so pretty filled with milk.”
“I don’t need your help. The pump can do it.” Sophia pulls Valentina out from under the cloth covering, resting her over her shoulder, burping her quickly. I open my purse and take out the hand sanitizer, quickly rubbing my palms together. Sophia gently hands Valentina over to me, then pulls out her hands-free breast pump from a bag beside her, quickly maneuvering the round pumps under her T-shirt and into what I presume is her bra or bathing suit.
My brother starts whining about how he wants to help, and Sophia playfully slaps at his hands that are creeping under her shirt. I leave them to bicker, otherwise known as flirting, and step to the side, swaying Valentina in my arms. God, she is so cute, dressed in a cute footed onesie, face serene, a shiny coating of milk covering her chin. Carefully adjusting her, I cup her small butt in my palm, making sure her tiny head rests in the crook of my neck, while I cradle the back of her head. I gently tap her back, rocking from side to side, breathing in her sweet baby smell.
Turning, I look up and feel a jolt. Stone is staring right at me. Sensation races down my spine, making me shudder. He’s wearing a regular vest tonight, exactly like the one he wore the first night I saw him. Black leather. I don’t want to notice how strong and dangerous he looks. How sexy he looks standing there with both hands in the pockets of a pair of dark jeans. Denim that does nothing to conceal his thick thighs, and of course, like the little slut that I am, my eyes zero right in on his crotch.Look Away.Don’t think about his crotch while you’re holding your niece. My eyes go up. And I can’t help but notice the dark colored T-shirt covering his chest and arms. It appears to be the same T-shirt he wore on the day he...Don’t do it, Cam.Too late. My brain projects the memories.
The way I grabbed that dark shirt, curling my fingers in the fabric as I chanted his name, lifting my hips to his mouth, opening my legs wider, begging him to fuck me.
His arms are bare, showing off those fucking tattoos covering every inch of his skin. My breath hitches when he pulls his hands out of his pocket, and I see the glint of silver. His rings. My eyes travel up his chest to his face and the shadow on his jaw. The stubble that I also remember. Unbidden, my eyes go to his pierced lower lip. Inexplicably, I wonder what his mouth tastes like.What would it be like to kiss a man with piercings in his lip? I have no clue what he kisses like.
Well, one part of your body does. Fuck.
“That look could burn down a town.”
Blinking, Dru’s words break the spell between us, and I turn to my friend, trying to shake off the feeling of those eyes looking at me, as if he could see past the thick cotton of my sweatshirt. I wasn’t sweating before, but I am now. The memory of those eyes looking just like that while his tongue was flicking my clit.
Rocking Valentina, I brush my lips across her fine baby hair, closing my eyes and letting her sweetness soothe the rough edges Stone’s look left behind. “There is no look.”
“Okay girl, keep telling yourself that.”
“Sunshine, the baby is down. The bathroom is free.” I turn to see Silas holding up a baby monitor. He tucks the device in the back pocket of his shorts before swinging Dru in his arms. She shrieks in delight and buries her face in his neck.
“And I thought Sophia and I were the only ones.” Jace chuckles.
Dru giggles and wraps her arms around Silas’s neck. “Bruce won’t be down for long. I don’t think we have time before he wakes up hungry.”
Silas raises an eyebrow and whispers in her ear, and her eyes widen before he carts her away.
