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As soon as he opened the door, Honu dashed inside. Papa took both the box and pan from me, balancing them in one arm while holding open the door for me. I met Papa, the club’s VP, yesterday. He was in his early thirties and Gambit’s best friend. His skin was the color of coffee with no cream. Papa kept his head shaved but sported a neatly trimmed van dyke. His dark brown eyes were warm and full of merriment this morning.
“What’s in here that smells delicious?” Papa asked. I followed behind him. He led me down a few halls to an office.
“Cinnamon rolls from a new bakery and Nutella espresso double chocolate fudge brownies.”
“If my best friend didn’t already lay claim to you, girl, I’d be on my knees begging for a date.”
My face flushed bright red. I have no idea why these hot men are giving me all this attention. As a curvy girl growing up in rural Indiana, I found guys don't like women with meat on their bones. You could be ugly, inside and out, and still get a date. If you’re fat, you’re non-existent. I’d felt that way most of my life.
Chapter 12
Gambit
Friday
With hours of waiting ahead of us, I pulled open my phone and brought up pictures of Stormy. Papa sent me a few new ones every day. Each day I started from the oldest photos, going through them and wishing I could see them in person. But I’m also getting to know the woman who's stolen my heart through my brother’s eyes.
Several of my brothers sent me daily pics of their interactions with my woman. The prospects were already fighting over helping her make nightly meals in the clubhouse kitchen. Stormy St. James had not only taken over my life, but she also already had the brother’s eating of her hands like the queen she is.
I hated having to leave her for a week but couldn’t pass up this opportunity. Not that we weren’t rolling in cash, but why dip into the coffers when one job would take care of everything? This job would repay every penny we spent with the remodel and then some. After taking the job, I asked Papa to look out for my girl. I also arranged for him to give her gifts and notes.
Fortunately, I had an extra hour before we left while everyone assembled to write the letters. Each day, my best friend and VP snuck pictures of Stormy reading the letters and receiving her gifts. Monday, she wore her hair up in a messy bun. Her t-shirt read ‘Powered by Coffee and Sarcasm’. The jeans she wore hugged her generous curves, giving me an instant hard on.
Soon, I’ll be home with both hands on that fine ass.Her jeans were missing the knees, and she wore a pair of lug soled black Doc Marten boots.
Yesterday she had on a pair of retro button-fly acid wash jeans and a Dragon Kush tee. I’d sent Papa a text for an additional surprise for her today. With bated breath, I scrolled to the new pictures. My cock twitched, and my heart jumped as I took in the pic of Stormy. She wore a black tee with gold lettering that said, ‘I’m his Queen’. The crown had rhinestones all over it, making it sparkle in the early morning light.
Stormy had her hair in twin French braids, and once again wore her Doc Martens. Her jeans, a tee and those damn boots made my cock try to break out of my zipper. I closed my eyes, picturing the look on her face as I peeled her out of those clothes. First, we’d kiss until she leaned against me. Knees too weak to support her own weight. Then I’d slowly peel her shirt up, kissing every inch of exposed flesh before pulling it over her head. Before kissing the hollow of her throat, licking and tasting. I knew she’d taste amazing.
Sweet like honey and warm butter. God, I hadn’t even fucked her yet and she was all I could think about. Day and night, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. When I first told the guys she was off limits, I’d wanted first dibs. The moment I kissed her, I wanted more. When she told me I was her first kiss, I knew I’d make her mine.
My thumb slid across the phone, bringing it to life before I input my fingerprint. As much as I wanted to finish my fantasy, I needed clear thoughts for the upcoming extraction. Ito sent me a video of Stormy dancing around the kitchen, making dinner last night. Decker begged for chili cheese dogs. Stormy made the chili from scratch along with fresh French fries. She made the bunnies slice a fuck ton of onions, and the prospects grate cheese. They even steamed the buns like they do in those New York hot dog carts.
Two of the bunnies were warming up to my girl. Boomer sent me a few pics and one video he’d snuck last night.
I queued up the video, taking a drink while the video loaded. Stormy sat in between Kelsi and Chardonnay on a couch in the corner of the main room of the current clubhouse. The video zoomed in on my girl’s face.
