Troubled Son: Savage Sons MC Romance

by King, Jayna

  "Any preferences?" he asked as we went inside the wine shop.

  "Surprise me," I answered, hoping that he would read anything and everything into what I'd said.

  Moses shook his head and the smoldering look in his eyes gave me a clue that he knew what I was thinking. I realized that I was very much looking forward to the evening.

  Moses picked up a bottle of Champagne, and a bottle each of white and red.

  "Is that all for tonight?" I asked.

  "We'll see. I just want to have a variety. I don't have much at home right now."

  Moses handed over a couple of hundred dollar bills that covered the three bottles, and his change didn't amount to much. Not only was I looking forward to spending some time with Moses, but I was starting to get hungry anticipating the menu.

  Back at Moses' house, I sat at one of the stools in the kitchen, sipping the glass of South African Chenin Blanc that Moses had poured for me. I'd offered to help with dinner prep, but he'd declined and offered me a seat instead. The view was spectacular.

  When we'd gotten home, Moses had changed clothes, and when he'd come out of his bedroom, I'd nearly gasped audibly. He was rolling up the sleeves on a light blue button-down that brought out his eyes. He wore broken in, faded jeans, and he was barefoot. Good heavens, even his feet were perfect. I could see glimpses of ink through the shirt, so I figured it was old and one of his favorites if it had gotten that thin.

  His movement in the kitchen was economical, and it was clear that he knew what he was doing.

  "Can we talk about today?" I asked as I watched him zest a lemon into the plastic container that held the scallops.

  Moses used scissors to snip fresh rosemary into the container and added fresh ground pepper and some sea salt and olive oil before he closed the lid and shook the container to evenly distribute the flavors over the surface of the fat scallops. "Yeah. Tough day." He took a sip of his wine. "How're you doing?"

  "I need to know what you're doing with the body." I hated to ask, but I did it anyway.

  "I'm not doing a goddamn thing. I'm cooking your dinner," Moses winked at me as he turned to the brown tomatoes, slicing them, removing the seeds, and dicing them into small pieces.

  "Moses, there isn't anything funny about this."

  He set the knife down and walked over to me. He took the wine glass out of my hand and set it on the counter, and he put his hands on my thighs. I could hardly believe that he was that close, face to face. He looked me square in the eye, as if to emphasize his seriousness.

  "Max, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made a joke about it. The fact that I'm used to shit like this -- drug overdoses, dead bodies, hookers -- it's why I want out. And I appreciate the work you're doing to help make that happen."

  I didn't know what to say. My hear was beating a million times per second because Moses was so close, and I was having trouble focusing on his words because I could feel the heat of his hands through my jeans.

  Moses leaned forward, increasing his pressure on my thighs and bringing his face closer to mine. "I have some ideas -- a plan for tomorrow -- that I think could either make or break this case, but I want one evening to forget about this bullshit and enjoy the company of a beautiful woman."

  I'd only had a few sips of wine, but I felt like my head was spinning. "Okay," was about all I could manage.

  Moses lifted his hands, and I figured he'd return to the other side of the island to resume his work, but he stayed right where he was. I'm sure my eyes widened when he looked at my mouth, and I wondered for a second if he was thinking about kissing me. I didn't have long to wonder, though, as he leaned forward and did just exactly that. The light touch of his lips at first deepened as he took a step toward me, nudging my knee out of the way with his hip so that he stood between my legs. He slid one hand around the back of my neck and tangled his fingers in my hair, pulling me closer toward him as he slid his tongue between my lips.

  I kissed him back, putting my hands on his arms and savoring the feeling of the hard muscles beneath the soft cotton shirt. I made up my mind right then that neither of us was going to be sleeping on the couch that night. Whether it was the fact that a man had died that day, or the anxiety I had about the case, I just knew that I wasn't going to let the chance of fulfilling my fantasies about Moses slip through my fingers. I was going to have him before the night was over.

  He pulled his lips from mine, and he started to step back as he kissed the side of my neck, sending chills through every inch of my body.

  "Hungry?" he asked with a smile, as I struggled to compose myself.

  "Starving," I answered, knowing that we both were talking about something other than food.

  Though Moses acted like he was cool as could be, the bulge in his jeans told a different story. I was glad to see that I wasn't the only one who was incredibly turned on.

  I watched as he minced garlic and chopped basil to add to the tomatoes. Salt and pepper, a drizzle of olive oil, and a little balsamic vinegar went into the bowl, and he tasted it and set the bowl aside. I wasn't sure exactly what he was going to do with the mixture, but it smelled amazing.

  "I get that you want a carefree evening, but I want to know. What's going to happen to the dead guy?"

  I was pleased that Moses didn't seem irritated that I was pressing him for information. He washed and snapped the ends off the asparagus as we talked.

  "I'm not sure exactly what will happen. Joker will send a couple of guys -- maybe Sons, maybe a couple of guys we use to get things done from time to time. They'll probably take the body and just dump it somewhere. There are places within an hour of the city that you could dump him, and no one would notice for years. It's easier since he doesn't have family here. If there were a police report, it might be more complicated."

  I sat there and absorbed what he'd said. The thought of the man's children, fatherless in Texas, really bothered me. He was a father, a husband, a son, maybe a brother, and he was gone. He'd made the shitty decisions that had put him in a hooker's apartment to score crank, but he hadn't deserved to die.

  "You know, the more I think about this, the angrier I get. There's no doubt in my mind that someone -- I'm sure it was the Vandals -- delivered some kind of awful shit to Angel. They did this deliberately, not caring who might die because of their actions."

  Moses stopped working, shook his head, and put his palm on the island. "That's why I have to get out, Max. These people don't care who they hurt. It would be one thing for the Vandals to come up and attack the Savage Sons directly. I'd be pissed, but it would make sense. But this cowardly bullshit of killing the people we sell to...I can't stand for this any longer. It's fuckin' evil. I won't do this anymore."

  "I get it." I stood up and walked over to the side of the island where Moses was unwrapping the two cheeses and setting a piece of each on a plate. I picked up a piece of the aged gouda and popped it in my mouth. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go wash my face and change clothes since you seem to have everything under control here."

  Moses' sexy smile made me want to attack him right there in the kitchen. "You going to slip into something more comfortable?" he asked with an exaggerated leer.

  "I might just," I answered in as sexy a voice as I could manage.

  "Hey," Moses called from the kitchen as I crossed the big, open living room. "Will you put some music on?"

  I stopped in front of the stereo, curious about what Moses' musical tastes would be like.

  "CDs are in the cabinet to the left, and there's an iPod over there too. Take your pick."

  I picked up the iPod and scrolled through it, pleased, but no longer surprised to see a wide variety of music. I saw Megadeth, Miles Davis, and everything in between. I settled on a Bob Marley album, set it to shuffle, and headed for Moses' bedroom to freshen up. Having been in Angel's apartment had made me feel grubby -- both because the place wasn't very clean, and because what went on there just felt so hopeless and desperate. I didn't want to be wearing anythin
g that had been inside there.

  Closing the door behind me, I looked at myself in the mirror. It was hard to believe I was the same person I'd been that morning, much less a few days ago. I felt like my eyes looked older, and I craved something that would help me forget about the fact that a man had died that day. I thought that Moses was exactly what I wanted, and I was going to dress for the occasion. I stripped down, aware once again of the huge windows along the back wall, and feeling a little self-conscious.

  I washed my face and brushed my teeth, and I felt so much better. I dug through my bags and had decisions to make about the evening's attire. I didn't want to walk out in stripper heels and a g-string, but I didn't want to look frumpy either. I started with the lingerie, settling on one of my luxurious bra and panty combinations, rather than the trashy stuff from the stripper store. I decided to go with the same black pants I'd worn that morning -- the ones that Moses had seemed to enjoy. I added a lace-trimmed camisole that was dangerously low cut, and I threw on plain black cardigan that I'd found at Goodwill. I checked myself out in the mirror and was pleased. I'd be comfortable, but the pants hugged me in just the right spots, and the cleavage was spectacular, if I did say so myself. I suspected that Moses was gonna like what he saw. With any luck, I'd be able to slip out of the cardigan in front of the fireplace later. Feeling a little warm and flustered at the prospect, I headed back out to the kitchen.

  As I walked to the island to pick up my wine glass, Moses looked up from the dish he'd put out to marinate the filets in.

  Eyebrows raised, he looked me over slowly, as if he was enjoying taking his time. "Very nice. You look like a present waiting to be unwrapped."

  I smiled at him and walked over, feeling bolder that usual. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him -- slowly, but very gently, barely touching his lips just like the kiss from the club the other night. "Thanks," I said simply. "Should we save the presents for after dinner?"

  Moses put his hands onto my hips, slipping them beneath the sweater and finding the bare skin at the small of my back. I shivered slightly as he ran his thumb along the indentation there.

  "All the prep work is done. Want to have a glass of Champagne first?"

  "Absolutely."

  "If you'll open the wine, I'll get glasses and start the fire."

  A vision of Moses naked in front of the fireplace flashed into my mind, and I suddenly felt very warm. I pulled the Champagne out of the refrigerator and opened it carefully, not wanting to shoot the cork out. I poured two glasses and carried them into the living room, where Moses had the gas fireplace lit and had thrown some pillows on the floor in front of the cheerful blaze.

  "Whew, hope you didn't hurt yourself building that fire," I said as I handed him his glass.

  He laughed. "Yeah, I thought about a wood burning fireplace, but the gas one is so much easier, and it burns way cleaner."

  I settled on one of the big pillows, getting comfortable and taking my first sip of the Champagne. "This is delicious."

  "Yeah. It's one of my favorites, but it's a special occasion bottle for sure."

  I shook my head. "Can I ask you a question?"

  "Do I really have a choice?" Moses asked as he reached out and ran a single finger along the top of my foot.

  I watched his hand, imagining what it was going to feel like all over my body. "No. You don't really have a choice. I'm gonna ask anyway. What planet did you come from?"

  "What do you mean?" he asked, leaning over to kiss the inside of my wrist.

  "Quit distracting me," I said, not meaning a word of it. "Seriously, you do realize that you're a huge bundle of contradictions, right?"

  Moses had completely ignored my instruction (thank goodness,) and his words were muffled by the fact that his lips were on my arm as he slid the sleeve of my sweater up to expose more skin. "Don't know what you're talking about." The little smile he gave me told the truth, though.

  "How is it that you're a big, bad biker who likes to cook and drink expensive wine?"

  Moses pulled back from me, as if her were suddenly alarmed by something. "I forgot to swear you to secrecy,"he said, looking like he was horrified.

  "Your secret is safe with me, but really...how did this happen?"

  "I don't know. I got tired of eating fast food all the time, and I learned that I like wine with food. Just started talking to the guy at the wine shop, and it just kinda snowballed. I don't cook anything hard. It's all pretty simple."

  I thought about it, and he was right -- nothing that he'd done in the kitchen had been difficult. It was just fresh ingredients and a little bit of time. "Hm. Well, you have to understand why I'm surprised. Most guys in cuts don't have jazz on their iPods and environmentally friendly fireplaces."

  "Whatever. It's not a big fucking deal. Just made sense."

  The way he was down playing the surprisingly normal and sophisticated side of himself was absolutely enchanting. He wasn't a guy who picked a hard-to-pronounce cheese to impress the neighbors. He was a guy who enjoyed simple pleasures. He was also the single most attractive man I'd ever met. I was a goner.

  Chapter 26

  Moses

  Watching Max's face as I kissed the inside of her wrist was a turn on all by itself. I liked the fact that she'd thought she had me figured out and I'd been able to surprise her. I also realized that this -- being in front of my fireplace with a woman who was sexy and smart -- was way overdue. I'd realized from time to time that just banging a girl and moving on wasn't the most satisfying way to live. Don't get me wrong. I'd had a lot of fun, but Max had made me realize that I'd really been missing out. Maybe if I could start fresh, I'd end up with a woman who would enjoy conversation and spending time together, a woman who wasn't fucking me so she could score some free crank.

  I did want to fuck Max, but I was willing to take my time. I wanted her just as turned on as I was.

  I looked up at her face. "You look like you're a little warm."

  "A bit," she said, taking another sip of Champagne.

  I sat up straighter and set down my glass. I slid over a little closer to Max, and I reached out and very slowly unbuttoned the top button on her sweater. "Let me help you cool down," I whispered, as I slid my fingers down to the second button. I brushed my finger up against the cleavage revealed by the tank top she had underneath, the lace on her skin just like icing on a cake. I wanted to remove it with my tongue. Moving as slowly as I could, I managed to get every button undone, and I got up on my knees. I slipped one shoulder of the sweater over Max's shoulder, exposing the lace strap of her dark green tank top and the shiny black satin of her bra strap. I carefully pulled the sweater off one arm, and then the other, and then I threw the sweater over my shoulder onto the floor.

  Max started to laugh, probably because I'd been so slow and deliberate up to that point. As she laughed, I looked at her -- smooth skin and sexy glimpses of what she had on underneath her clothes. Holy shit, did I want to undress this woman. Still up on my knees, I leaned over and kissed her shoulder before I stood up and started for the kitchen.

  "Where are you going?" she asked, surprised that I'd stopped.

  "I'm hungry. I'm gonna cook dinner, and then I'm gonna take you to bed for dessert."

  I pulled the sliced ciabatta out of the bag and brushed some olive oil on a few of the slices. While I worked, I watched Max stand up and bend over to pick up her Champagne glass. I couldn't wait to get my hands on that ass. I was going to drive this woman crazy. She walked over to the kitchen and leaned over, resting her arms on the bar and giving me the perfect view of her tits. Bent over the way she was, I could see that her bra was all smooth black satin, and it was all I could do to keep my hands where they were.

  "Make yourself useful," I said, gesturing to the scallops and the filets. "Mind bringing those out?"

  "Not at all." Max rounded the island and reached over to pick up the dishes, brushing up against my ass as she went by.

  I took the bread and the asparagus outsid
e and closed the door behind Max. I turned the gas grill on and waited for it to get hot. When I turned around, I could see that the fabric of Max's bra was pretty thin. I could see her nipples through her clothing, and I decided to take it as an invitation. I took the dishes from her and set them on the table, and I walked around behind her so that we were both facing the mountains. I lowered my lips to her neck and started kissing and biting -- very gently -- as I worked my hands around to her tits. I could feel her nipples on my palms. I thought about how I could hardly wait to see her naked as I softly pinched her nipples through her clothes.

  "Mmm. That's quite an appetizer," she said as I continued to kiss her along her hairline and squeezed her nipples just a tiny bit harder. She pressed her ass into me, and she rubbed up against my hard-on through my jeans. "I know what I want for dessert."

  I knew I still had a few minutes before the grill would be ready, and I decided to make the most of it. I came back around to face Max, and I reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head without another word.

  "Holy shit, you're gorgeous," I said as I looked her over. The black material of her bra was shiny in the setting sun, and I covered her perfect tits with my hands before unhooking her bra in the front. I'd wondered if Max would feel self-conscious about being naked outside, but she didn't seem to care a bit. She looked like she was ready to attack me, so I decided to beat her to it.

  I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her in for a deep, hard kiss, pushing my tongue into her mouth and knowing that her lips were going to be red and swollen by the time I was finished with her. She opened to me and reached around to put her hands on my hips and pull me even closer. I could feel the heat from her skin through my shirt. I pulled my lips from hers and I bent to pull her nipple into my mouth, sucking soft at first, and increasing the intensity as I pulled at her other nipple with my fingers, pulling, squeezing, twisting just a little bit until Max's knees nearly buckled.