His Honey

by Leah Sharelle

  “When I lost my wife and unborn child in a motorcycle accident, I was lost and ready to leave this world. I wanted to be with them. But Dundee wasn’t on board with that idea. He said, ‘You selfish prick. What would your wife think of you if you just gave up? Wasting your life just because things got a bit hard for a minute? You make everything count from this moment on. You make it so their deaths weren’t in vain. You live enough for the both of them. Now I think we should go shoot some fucking guns and then find some willing women to keep us warm for the night.’ Well, we did exactly that, and that night, Kurt Dundee Wilson pulled my head out of my arse.”

  Oh, God. Hearing Creed speak of his wife and child for the first time ever left the whole place with tears in their eyes. And it had tears spilling down my cheeks. Charlotte, Mia, and Rainn were crying, too. Reaching over the aisle, I grabbed the handful of tissue from Darth that Charlotte had passed down to him to give to me. I mean really, who came to a funeral without a blasted tissue? Hello. I guess I did.

  As I wiped my face, I completely forgot about what my make-up was supposed to be hiding. I watched Booth as he made his way to the podium. I hadn’t realised I had uncovered my split lip.

  “It is never an easy thing to lose a comrade. It is even harder to lose a friend, a man who fought side by side with you, saving your life, and the lives of others, day after day after day.” Pausing, Booth stared intently at Dundee’s mother. “Your son gave his life for three people who mean the world to the club, to Deck, Creed, Steel, Mannix, Darth, and to me. He didn’t think twice before putting himself in the line of fire. To Dundee, there was no choice to make, just to act, and I, for one, will be forever grateful for that act.” Booth stopped again and looked over at me. His sombre face was suddenly wary. He was looking so intently at me, I started to feel conspicuous. What on earth?

  “Psst.”

  Looking behind me, I could see Rainn had made her way from her seat in the second row across the aisle to the one behind me.

  “Rainn, what are you doing?” I hissed at her. Booth had resumed speaking, but he kept looking over at me. He had his eyes narrowed at me the entire time. What was his freaking problem?

  “Stella, you’ve wiped off some of your make-up. The cut above your lip is showing,” she hissed back at me. Oh, my God. Seriously? I needed to get to a mirror as soon as possible. The last thing I needed was Booth on a rampage after my stepfamily the day he buried a friend.

  Thankfully, I was saved by movement near Kurt’s casket as six patched officers all stood to take their places around their friend’s coffin. A lone soldier dressed in his dress uniform stood with them and started to play ‘The Last Post’ as each man took a handle on the coffin, and at the order given by Booth, they lifted their mate onto their shoulders. I was grateful for the fact that Booth could no longer see me. Rainn passed me her compact and foundation powder, and I made very quick work of fixing my blunder, then I swiped some more lipstick onto my lips, which would have to do until Rainn could get me alone and fix it properly. I had just enough time to slip the items next to me on my seat when Seb got my attention. Time for another song.

  The trumpet player finished up with the haunting sound of the music every soldier around the world recognised, and I made my way back to Seb. Taking a deep breath, I started to sing ‘Amazing Grace’ as Booth and his brothers carried their mate away for the final time.

  9

  BOOTH

  I was so fucking tired. The funeral had gone well as far as funerals go. Dundee’s mum and sisters seemed quite humbled by the quiet and respectful service. I wasn’t sure if they’d expected guns blazing and beer poured over the coffin or what, but we were soldiers first and foremost. Honour was earned, and Dundee had earned his. He died with honour, but now, hours later, his family left for their hometown, their son and brother cremated. We had agreed to share the ashes. The club wanted to spread him around the back of the compound. Keep him close. Keep him where he wanted to be.

  My need for sleep was close to desperate, though the thought of closing my eyes gave me chills and not the good kind. My most pressing need was to find out where the hell Stella had disappeared to. I wanted to talk about her beautiful voice, about the fact that she could sing better than some of the celebrities out there, and I really wanted to talk about what I had seen during my eulogy when I looked over at her. I fucking swore I saw a large cut on her mouth.

  “Pres?” Darth said, standing in the doorway of the war room. He had a sleepy Shiloh on his hip. Deck’s parents had dropped her off about an hour before. They stayed to talk with Dundee’s mum, and as far as I knew, they were still here at the compound, making the most of their visit with their granddaughter, son, and future daughter-in-law. I had known them for more than twenty years, and they always made me feel like a son when my parents couldn’t or, in my father’s case, wouldn’t.

  “Yeah, brother?” Even my voice was tired.

  “Found Stella. She’s in the laundry room.”

  “Thanks, brother.” My tiredness was forgotten as I quickly got up and made my way out of the room. My woman had become a bit of a ghost of late, and I was about to get some answers. As I passed them, I leaned over and kissed the top of Shiloh’s head, and the sleepy child reached out and grabbed my nose.

  “Gotcha nose,” she joked, her voice tired. Poor kid. She had been through so much with the accident and hurting her arm, and she had really loved Dundee. Deck and Charlotte weren’t really sure how much they should tell her about his passing, so choosing to let Deck’s parents take her for the day was the best decision.

  “Keep it, baby girl. Love you,” I whispered into her hair.

  “Lub you more, GI Joe,” she quipped. Her head was against Darth’s shoulder with her eyes closed, and she was already more than half-asleep.

  Chuckling, I walked down the hall. Damn, that little girl means the fucking world to me. I made my way through the maze of hallways that led to the commercial-grade laundry room where I finally found Stella.

  She had changed into a pair of tight jeans that were turned up at the ankle, a pair of canvas lace-up beach shoes on her feet, and she was wearing a long-sleeved pink T-shirt. Now, this was my Stella. Except for the make-up. She was still wearing the pristine, made-up face from the funeral, and it looked out of place on her now without the showy clothes. The desire to get a washcloth from the pile in front of her and wash her face clean was strong.

  “Stella?” One word. Her name—the name that was on my mind every night, every morning, every fucking hour of every fucking day. She must not have heard me come down the hall since she jumped when I said her name.

  “Jesus, Booth. Don’t sneak up on me like that, handsome.” She was holding her hand over her heart. I loved the silly nickname she had for me. Silly or not, it made my heart skip each time she called me handsome.

  “Sorry, Honey, but it has been hard getting you pinned down.” It didn’t escape my attention the way her eyes softened when I called her honey. I liked that I could do that to her.

  “It’s been a hard few days, Booth,” she reminded me.

  The sadness on her face was like a punch to my gut. This had to be so hard on her. She saw firsthand how Dundee died. She was the one driving that day, and I’d heard the fear in her voice when she called us. My men and I were utterly helpless as we were forced to listen to her and Charlotte deal with a madman. Shiloh’s terrified screams had only added to our nightmare. We protected what was ours, and that day, we couldn’t. We were in the war room fucking useless. Damn, when would the guilt stop pulling on me?

  “Deck’s parents are ordering everyone pizza for tea. I already told them what you like,” she said to me as she reached down for another pair of socks and folded them into a neat ball. There was dark charcoal grey washing basket that had the name Darth on it next to her. Fuck. I knew this was part of her job, but seeing her doing my brother’s washing made me feel proud and fucking pissed all at the same time. I didn’t want her hands on
his personal shit. I only wanted them on mine.

  “I don’t care about pizza, Stella. I want to know what is going on with you. And before you say ‘nothing,’ don’t,” I said, seeing she was about to argue with me. This time, I was finding out.

  “Booth, I have so much work to catch up on today. Can we please do this another time?” she pleaded, but there was a hitch in her voice. I could tell she was barely hanging on. She threw the rolled socks into the basket and started to walk off from the sorting table. Uh-uh, no way, honey.

  I moved in front of her so she had no option but to crash into me. The second her soft body contacted with mine, her mouth opened in a soft gasp. I saw her pink tongue, and my resolve crumbled.

  I needed just a small taste. Dipping my head, I crashed my lips to hers, and feelings I had never felt before exploded in my body. Pulling her closer to me, I moved my mouth against hers, wanting to deepen the kiss, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to scare her off with my desperation to taste her. But oh, my fucking good God. Heaven had a name, and its name was Stella Hogan. Moving swiftly, I backed Stella up against the closest wall without taking my mouth from hers. Once there, I pushed my body harder against hers. She was a fair bit shorter than I was, but I kind of liked that.

  I lifted her in my arms, and her legs instantly wrapped around my waist. At this height, her crotch was firmly planted against my very hard one. One kiss and I was as hard as a fucking steel pipe.

  I moved my head to the side a bit more as I deepened our kiss, her moans and gasps telling me she was on board with it. And fuck, did I love to hear her sounds of pleasure. I was not a quiet person during intimacy. I liked to talk and express my enjoyment, and I liked my partner to be all in with me, too. Stella was not letting me down. With not only her moans but also her hands all over me, in my hair, stroking my neck, on my hair-roughened cheeks. Fucking everywhere. And I loved it.

  Her lower body was not being still, either. Just like her hands, her hips were bumping and grinding against my erection. She was pushing against me so hard … Oh, Jesus Christ, was she going to come? I fucking hoped so. Pushing my tongue further into her mouth, I groaned when Stella took advantage and sucked it. Fucking sucked it! Deep into the warm recesses of her mouth. Oh, hell, yes!

  “Booth, oh God. Booth, yes, yes, Booth,” she cried against my mouth, and I felt her desperation in her words. “Baby.” She groaned loudly, holding herself hard against my denim-covered cock. Her mouth was still on mine, her breath warm on my lips. I felt a spine-tingling sensation like I had never ever felt before—well, at least not this consuming, this raw, and this real. I couldn’t help the groan of pleasure that escaped my lips as a sharp but incredibly intense pleasure ripped through me like lightning. What the fuck is that? Keeping my mouth firmly planted on hers, I continued to let Stella use my body.

  Her panting turned feral as her body tensed, her fingers digging into my biceps holding me in place as she let out one final guttural groan. That groan told me one thing—Stella Hogan had just climaxed, just from my kisses and my hard cock, which was still painfully encased in my jeans. Oh, fuck, yes!

  “Pres, you out here?” Oh, fuck, no!

  Before I could blink, Stella was out of my arms, her shocked gasp echoing in the room as she scrambled out of the laundry room. Away from me. Again.

  “Stella! Come back. Honey, we need to talk. Stella!” I yelled, but it was too late. She was gone. With her taste still on my lips and my dick still hard as a rock, I moved towards the other door and looked to see who had the fucking nerve to interrupt me, but just as I did, I felt something strange. It took me a second or two, but I suddenly realised what had happened. Fuck me. My honey had made me come in my jeans. Holy shit.

  “Pres, pizza is here,” Seb called from the hallway. I couldn’t let anyone see me like this.

  “Yeah, be there soon, mate. Just finding a change of clothes,” I called out, trying hard not to howl like a wolf that had just found his mate for life. Because, Miss Stella Hogan, you just became mine with that climax and that one word. Baby. She probably wasn’t even aware she said it, but I heard it. Right down to my black soul. And I fucking loved it.

  Game on, Honey. I am coming for you.

  And that was it.

  10

  STELLA

  What on earth just happened? One minute, I was folding socks, and the next, I was grinding on Booth’s crotch like a wanton slut. But oh, my God, it felt amazing and so right. I had two boyfriends when I was a teenager, but we had never gone any further than some heavy petting. My stepbrother always scared them off. So eventually, I just gave up on having a special someone. It was like I wasn’t worth the effort to be around my stepfamily. Then when mum got sick, there was no time for relationships, anyway. I hadn’t craved the need for intimacy until I met Booth.

  He kissed me. Not just any kiss but a bloody amazing kiss that had given me my first orgasm… I think. I was pretty sure I’d come during my bumping and grinding action. I certainly hoped so because that was the best thing I ever felt.

  Ever.

  But what did it mean to Booth? He seemed really into what we were doing if the massive bulge in his jeans meant anything—and when I say massive, I mean massive. And boy, oh boy, the man could use his mouth. When I left the laundry room, my only thought was to get out of there fast. So when I ran down the long hallway, I had no real destination in mind. I just needed to get away from Booth. I had so many overwhelming feelings swimming around my head that being alone for a moment was best.

  I knew I couldn’t stay away from him forever, and I really didn’t want to. Being with Booth was all I had ever wanted, but right now was not the right time. Apart from the obvious, with today being the day the Wounded Souls buried a friend, there was Rogue, who was always front and centre on their minds, and I had far too many bruises that I couldn’t explain. Booth was not a stupid man. In fact, he was one of the smartest men I knew. His ability to problem-solve and to read a person was sometimes scary, and I knew he was starting to see straight through me. He said he knew something was up with me, but for me, the most important issue was his need for another woman. Ingrid.

  I hated that he went to her. I hated that he specifically asked for her every time. It hurt my heart each time I watched her come out of his room when I was starting breakfast for the club early in the mornings. She always looked tired and unruly, as a woman should look after a night of hot sex with a stud like my handsome guy.

  I stopped my wayward and rather annoying train of thought to see where the hell I was. Outside? It appeared I had walked all the way out to the compound’s garden shed. A place I knew well. My subconscious had led me to the place I would sleep on the occasions when I hadn’t been able to go to Lucy’s or my house. Well, I definitely couldn’t go there anymore, so this was going to have to do.

  Sliding open the door, I slipped inside. Being so close to the compound would be helpful for tomorrow. I had a lot of clean-up after today’s gathering before preparing for Shiloh’s birthday party in the afternoon. Seven little four-year-old girls running around screaming and God knew what else was going to be exhausting. Yay.

  It was dark in the shed, and I’d forgotten my phone, which was in my handbag that I’d left behind in the pantry in the kitchen, so I had to pretend that anything that moved or made a noise was just my imagination. Otherwise, I was never going to get any sleep.

  I felt around for my stash of blankets and pillow and tended to my bed as best I could in the dark. Settled into the makeshift bed, my mind drifted to where it always did. Booth. Only this time, my imagination had a small bit of reality to give my dreams a helping hand.

  11

  BOOTH

  The pizza tasted like cardboard. The day was finally catching up with me, and I just wanted all the hangers-on gone.

  Of course, Deck’s parents weren’t in that category, but they had already left. They were staying with Jason for the night since the next day was Squirt’s fourth birthday, and th
ey would be back for the party. I couldn’t believe my little goddaughter was going to be four. It felt like just yesterday I had her in my arms walking the floor with her, trying to settle her from a bout of colic.

  This little baby brought the whole club to its knees. Former soldiers turned bikers saved by a bundle of pink. She helped bring out the softness in us all. A softness we all thought we had lost long ago in that nightmare desert.

  “Booth, you might want to come see this.” Steel’s voice penetrated my mind. His voice left no room for disagreeing, so I threw the pizza I had been trying to eat back into the cardboard box and got up to follow him.

  My VP never asked me to do something for just the hell of it. I just hoped it didn’t have anything to do with Rogue. I didn’t have the energy tonight to deal with his fuckery.

  I followed a sombre Steel to the war room where all my senior patched brothers were standing there waiting for me.

  This can’t be good.

  “Okay, men, what is this about?” I asked, instinctually using my CO voice. It was a thing that I did without too much conscious thought. My role as their CO and now their president were very similar. Only the later usually didn’t include any of my men dying.

  Ford stepped forward and pointed towards his beloved laptop.

  “About twenty minutes ago, the silent alarm sounded for the emergency exit at the back of the laundry. About seven minutes ago, the silent alarm triggered for the back garden shed,” he explained. As he told me this, he and none of my other brothers looked too concerned about the alarms, but they did look stricken about something.

  “So, by the fact that none of you have drawn your weapons and torn out of here to the garden shed, I am deducing you aren’t too concerned about these breeches.” It wasn’t a question. I knew my men, and I knew the next thing said wasn’t going to please me.