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“She hates being alone. Something about solitude puts her in a dark place. The night I left Dane after one of the worst beatings he’d given me, I’d caught Tara in the bathroom. I smelled smoke. When I’d questioned her about it, she said she’d just lit a candle. I was such a mess at the time, I didn’t give it another thought.” She leaned forward, draping her body across mine.
I wrapped my arms around her protectively. “I got you, baby.” The topic of Dane, her fuckin’ ex-boyfriend, Deputy fuckin’ Miller, always turned me into a raging bull. I wishedhewas in the county jail with Hero. I’d have him end that prick’s life right along with the Hunter’s enforcer. The lucky fucker got off scot-free, sort of. A dirty judge threw out the case, but Sheriff Bush fired Miller’s ass. The pussy went into hiding before I could nab him.
But Miller would have his day of reckoning. I just needed to be patient.
She pressed her lips to my neck. “Now that I think of it, I don’t recall smelling apples and cinnamon when I went into the bathroom that night.”
“What’d you smell?”
“I think it was cigarette smoke. Or pot. Or both. I didn’t know what weed smells like back then, but I do now after getting a good whiff of it during some of our parties.”
“Maybe she was just having a smoke.” No harm in toking, especially if Tara had anxiety. She might’ve needed it to help her relax.
“She hates those ‘cancer sticks,’ as she calls them.”
“Hmm.” I didn’t know what to say. So instead, I stroked her back to soothe the tension in her body.
Madeline melted into me. “I just wished she’d stay at the compound so I could keep an eye on her.”
“I have no problem with that. Hero wants her here.”
She growled a little. “Yeah, well, she’d be here still if he hadn’t ghosted her. The jerk.”
My lip quirked up, hearing the irritation in her voice. I’d love to see my woman hand Hero his ass. It’d be the event of the year.
She raised up on her elbows and dropped a kiss on my lips. “I need you.”
“I’m yours. Tell me what you need, Angel.”
She fluttered her lashes and her cheeks turned pink. “How about your face between my legs? I need to get rid of this stress. It can’t be good for the baby.”
I rolled, putting her on her back. “My pleasure.” I helped her out of the T-shirt. She never wore underwear. She used to, then we got together, and it didn’t make sense anymore since we fucked every night… and most mornings.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“Love you too, baby.” I kissed her slowly, holding back from devouring her. She needed me to be soft and tender. I’d give her exactly what she needed.
She moaned into my mouth, raising her hips to mine. Her warm pussy rubbed against my fully erect cock, exciting me. Teasing me. But she’d asked for my face between her legs. I wasn’t a fool. Pass up feasting on my woman? Fuck no.
Breaking away, I kissed down her neck and stopped at her tits, licking and sucking a little. Her back bowed as she released another moan, louder than the first and full of need. The musical lilt in the sounds she made during sex was erotic as fuck. I could come just by listening to her.
I continued my journey down her torso and stilled. “Love you, peanut,” I whispered to my baby. We didn’t know the gender, so we called the babypeanut, but we’d give it a name once we knew if it was a girl or boy. Our little biker brat would get a road name if it was a boy because I was sure the club life flowed through our kid’s veins like it did mine. But if we were blessed with a little girl, a little biker princess, we’d give her a pretty name like her momma’s. I hoped to God she’d have a voice like Madeline’s and a heart filled with as much kindness and compassion.
“I love your mouth on my body.” Angel swirled her hips, opening her legs for me.
“Mmm, I worship this body.” I flattened my tongue, collecting her arousal, and groaned. “Love your sweet cream.”
Madeline mewled and lifted her pussy to my face. “You’re so good to me.” Her small hands held my head in place, nails scratching my scalp. A bolt of desire shot down my spine.
“Baby, you’re the one who’s good to me.” With those words, I focused on taking away her worries and stress. If something was going on with Tara, I’d find out about it. For my Angel’s peace of mind.
Monday morning, we were in church… my council and me. Six of us sat at the table drinking coffee and eating Sugar’s famous egg bake—renowned within the club, anyway. She didn’t dump a bunch of healthy shit in it like spinach and zucchini or tomatoes and eggplant like some people did. My brothers and I were meat-and-potatoes men. The onlyhealthywe did was the occasional salad with lots of croutons, bacon bits, and ranch dressing to cover the leafy greens.
We were a bunch of lucky fuckers, because Sugar and Tina served us exactly what made us happy.
Boxer and Ire ate better than the rest of us. Especially when they were training for a fight. Even when they weren’t, they lived off their protein shakes and bland-ass oatmeal and chicken. They had a special menu one of the kittens prepared for them. Funny, for as picky about diets as they were, they still downed booze like it was water.
But I digress…
