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His mouth widens, teeth lightly sinking into the flesh surrounding my center as he sucks and licks. I swear it’s a nip of ownership, he’s claiming my pussy and I’m here for it. The thought of him not letting another man have me drives me insane, sending me into a tailspin. My orgasm detonates as I ride his face so roughly I don’t know how the man manages to get a breath in, let alone escape from a friction burn. My lips and thighs will be tender from his scruff, no doubt, but it’ll be a reminder I don’t want to ever forget.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I repeat in a blissed-out trance as his tongue flicks my clit, prolonging my pleasure. I’m winded, hand over my chest as my heart thunders away. With a slow inhale and exhale, I finally crack my eyes open to meet the talented man’s sparkling orbs. His hair is everywhere, eyes positively gleaming as he wears a smug grin. Oh, the bastard is so pleased with himself. I can’t be annoyed with it either, the biker definitely earned it. Sitting up, I push him as I move, making him fall back. “Your turn.”
“Fuck yes.”
“WELL, PREZ ISN’T HAPPY,” he says when he comes back inside, tucking the burner cell into his flannel pocket. He looks like Sons of Anarchy meets lumberjack, and I’m one hundred percent supportive of this vibe.
A laugh escapes me as I shake my head. Now’s not the time to be amused but I can’t help it. With the way Blow says it, it’s almost as if he expected anything different. “No, I don’t suppose he would be. He thinks I have information on your club, which clearly, I wasn’t able to get.”
“I explained as much to him. Not sure he bought it, but I know Ripper. He’ll think it over. He’s pissed because I gave him an ultimatum.”
“Excuse me? For what? You’re telling me you have something bigger he could want besides shutting me up?”
He quirks a brow. “Oh Spice, you guys really don’t get all the information in your reports.”
“Do you plan to enlighten me, or keep me in the dark on this one?” I ask, just as his burner rings, interrupting us.
“Damn, that was fast.” He swears with a glance at the number. I’m guessing it’s Ripper calling back, and it’s not going to be good news. “I have to take this,” he grumbles, accepting the call and stepping outside.
Rather than sit back and wait like I did last time, I run to the door. Blow’s right outside, probably trying to stay close to the house for warmth and I take advantage of it, eavesdropping.
His voice carries through the door as I strain to make out his words. “Told you, Angel doesn’t have all the info. Yeah. Well, the kid’s dead, and I already took care of the clean-up. It’s cold, but it gave me the perfect excuse to burn the body. No, she doesn’t know I torched him. I haven’t told her anything.”
I gasp to myself at his words. I knew he wasn’t outside burning an old animal he found. He must’ve gone out after I fell asleep to finish. Did he use the secret door so the place would remain closed up? My thoughts are interrupted by him speaking again.
“I’m not a fuckin’ snitch, you of all people know as much. Don’t give a fuck what you think of her profession, pretty hypocritical, don’t you think? Fuck no, I’m not flipping sides, but you’re wrong about her. Yeah, the pussy’s good, doesn’t mean it’s clouding my judgment. You can think what you want, but my promise still stands. You send someone after her and I’m standing in front of her. I love my brothers, but there’s something about this woman I can’t shake. Not gonna let her get hurt. I can’t think of life without her in it right now. No, I’m not dicking you around.”
He pauses for a longer beat this time, no doubt getting his ass chewed out by the president of the RBMC. He releases a huff, then a grumble distinctly resembling a growl before biting out, “You know what? I’m claiming her. She’s gonna be my ol’ lady, and it’s against our club to go after a member’s ol’ lady.” He gets quiet again before saying louder and sternly, “You heard me, Prez. She’s my woman, my ol’ lady. I’ll text the brothers and let the entire chapter know. They want to take the punishment out on me, so fuckin’ be it, but everyone will back the fuck off from her, you feel me?”
I gasp as his words hit me like a ton of bricks. He feels that strongly for me? How? Why? I’m crazy about the guy, but I never expected him to feel the same way, or to put his neck on the line all for me. If anything, I prejudged him as being a criminal who’d just toss me in a ditch somewhere after he was done with me. He may not fit the bill of being a killer, only a drug dealer, but in my career, you learn quickly to never put anything past someone who feels cornered. Only cornering him makes the stubborn man stand firm, it seems, not the other way around.
I feel guilty for putting him in this position, even though he’s the one who chose this. It’s partially how I know I care about him too much, too soon. I don’t want to turn him in. I don’t want to see him land behind bars, all in the name of justice. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself after he’s put himself out there for whatever repercussions his club may dream up as a consequence of protecting me and keeping me alive for my daughter. A child he’s never met before.
He grumbles, “Fucking hung up on me.” It’s my cue to get away from the door, so I scramble the rest of the way to the kitchen, acting like I’m looking for something. A moment later, the door opens and in comes my biker looking cold and irritated.
“I found some hot chocolate mix, want some?”
“I’ll have mine with a splash of whiskey.”
“Oh, that sounds good. Me too.” I grab the cannister of coco mix, two mugs, and then put the kettle on the woodstove. “Where do you keep the whiskey?”
Without another word, he moves toward the storage room, returning a moment later with a cheap fifth of amber liquor. It’s not the best, but it’ll do for the occasion and definitely help get the chill out of his bones. The kettle whistles moments later, pulling my attention from the sexy scruff along his cheeks and messy hair. Fuck, he’s sorta beautiful for a man.
He pours a shot in each glass, his body skirting close enough to mine to give me goosebumps. I want his hands on me, but now isn’t the time. He’s too wound up and obviously has whatever his prez said on his mind. Scooping the mix in each mug, I top it off with boiling water then stir. “Won’t be as good with water instead of milk, but it’s hot and sweet.”
“Kinda like you, then?” he teases, quickly following it up to say, “I actually like it better with water.”
“Really? Weird.”
He shrugs. “When you grow up the way I did, you learn water is good in about anything.”
A pang hits me and suddenly I want to hold the man in front of me for all the stuff he’s had to deal with. There’s a reason people turn out the way they do, and Blow has done wonders with his circumstances. I don’t know everything, but I did see a few notes on his home life as a child. I guess CPS was called more than once, but nothing ever came of it. There were reports of him selling drugs as a child but never evidence to do anything, only speculation. I can only imagine the things he went through if those are the type of notes in his file. Usually, they’re extremely lacking and the reality is much deeper. Makes you wonder why he’s so protective of me being a mother if he didn’t grow up with any good influences.
“Trent?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you have a big family?”
