Jewel’s whole body shakes as I continue to pump into her, releasing jet after jet inside her and riding the most powerful orgasm I can ever remember having. When it finally recedes, I pull her trembling into my arms and kiss her. Her legs wrap around my waist as she buries her face in my neck. We stay like that, connected, until eventually I move us so we’re both lying down on our sides. I pull some of the covers over us.
Neither one of us says anything. Jewel’s labored breathing finally starts to slow, and even out. After a while, I pull my head back to look at her and realize she’s asleep. The lines of worry that have seemed permanently etched in her brow lately are gone. Gently, I detach myself from her, and go to the bathroom to get rid of the condom and take a piss.
When I come back into the room, I stand there, staring for a few seconds at the sight in front of me.
When’s the last time I had a woman in my bed overnight? Ever?
I tell myself I’m gonna let her stay here until morning because she hasn’t found a place to sleep yet.
But I’m lying to myself, and I fucking know it.
So instead of kickin’ her out — like I would with any other chick in the universe — I come back to bed and lie down beside her. In minutes, I’m fast asleep.
I wake up just before dawn, minutes before my phone alarm is set to go off.
Jewel is still sleeping beside me. She’s fucking beautiful in this half-light — naked and sexy as hell, her hair flowing behind her off the pillow. I think about waking her up, to fuck her one more time before I have to leave. But she looks so relaxed and happy I decide to just let her sleep.
I must have tired her out last night, because she doesn’t even stir as I pull on my shirt, jeans and boots. Grabbing my cut, I slip out the door and can’t help taking one last look at Jewel before I close it.
Shit. It’s hard to leave her.
It’s funny. Standing there in the doorway, for the first time I realize how tough it must be for my brothers with old ladies and kids to leave them for a run like this. Knowing t’s possible they might never see them again. Seems like that kind of attachment would be something they’d want to avoid. Like you wouldn’t want those kinds of ties clouding your mind when you were tryin’ to fight your way out of a tough situation.
Then again, I guess it’d give you something more to fight for.
Silently, I pull the door closed and head downstairs. I’m feeling a little fucked up. I need to clear my head. Luckily, when I get downstairs, Brick’s old lady Sydney is in the kitchen making coffee.
“Hey,” she says with a smile, pushing back a lock of her fiery red hair. “Want a cup?”
“You read my fuckin’ mind,” I growl.
She pulls the pot out of the coffee maker and gets a mug from the cupboard. “You take it black, right?”
“You’re damn right.” She pours a cup and hands it to me. “You’re up early.”
“Well, you know,” Sydney shrugs. “This is usually when I get up, anyway. If I wasn’t making coffee for you guys here, I’d be making it down at the Golden Cup.”
I take a sip of the hot brew. “Damn, that’s good,” I say in surprise. “I thought that old coffee maker was incapable of making anything decent.”
“Well, you could definitely invest in something better, with all the use this thing gets,” Sydney concedes. “But this one isn’t so bad, if you know what you’re doing.”
Brick comes in a moment later, looking cranky and tired. “Fu-uck, it’s early,” he grumbles.
Sydney grabs another mug and pours him a cup. “Here, baby. This will make it better.”
Brick takes the cup from her and gives her a deep kiss. “Bless you.”
Sydney grins at him happily. “I love you, too, baby.” She glances over at me. “I’ll leave you men to it. I should go check on Sienna and the twins. I’m guessing they won’t sleep much longer.”
Brick watches Sydney as she leaves the kitchen and saunters off down the hall. “Damn, who’d ever guess a woman with legs that fine could make such a good cup of coffee?”
“You’re a lucky man,” I agree. “You get enough sleep?”
“No. But I’ll make it. You?”
Instantly, my mind is back in bed with Jewel, re-living last night. My cock awakens in my jeans.
“Nope,” I said. “Didn’t sleep hardly at all. But I feel fuckin’ fantastic.”
Brick cocks his head at me and frowns. “You’re a deeply disturbed man, Angel. Deeply, deeply disturbed.”
“Probably.” I take another swig of coffee and grin at him. “Come on, you grumpy fucker. Let’s go outside to check on the guards. The rest of the brothers should be up and ready to go soon. I’ll give the order for the lockdown to begin as soon as we leave.”
15
Jewel
When I wake up the next morning, I’m more disoriented than I can ever remember being.
It takes me a few seconds to realize the strange room I’m in is Angel’s apartment. I’ve never been in here before. And last night it was so dark that I didn’t really see any of it. I blink my eyes, squinting at the bright light streaming in through the blinds. I take in the oak paneling, the low couch and chairs off to one side. The dark comforter that’s wrapped around me.
Angel’s comforter.
Angel’s bed.
The pillow next to me is empty. I reach over and feel the sheets on the other side: cold. Angel’s been gone a while. I know it’s cowardly, but I’m actually relieved he’s not here. After last night, it probably would have been kind of mortifying to wake up next to him. I wonder if he’s just gone downstairs for a minute, which would mean he might be coming back. Hastily, I climb out of bed and grab up my clothes from the floor, then run toward a half-open door which I assume is the bathroom.
Shutting myself in, I pee, then get dressed, reddening when I see that Angel’s ripped my thong to shreds. I toss it into the trash, recalling the hungry look in his eyes when he ripped it off me last night. A low thrum starts between my legs at the memory.
God, last night was good.
No, it was the best. The best sex I’ve ever had, by about a thousand percent. Not even a question. I could have guessed Angel would be talented in that department, judging by the way women always flock around him. But even so, nothing could have prepared me for the reality of him. I know I’ll be replaying every second of last night in my head — every touch, every stroke, every heat-filled caress — for months. Maybe even years. If it wasn’t for the fact that I still have to see Angel practically every day, I’d be thrilled to have such a great memory to take with me into my bedroom every night — even though it means I’m going to be spending a fortune on batteries from now on.
Angel still isn’t back when I exit the bathroom. For the first time, my half-groggy brain registers the possibility that he and the Lords have already left on their run.
Could it be that late in the morning? What time is it, anyway?
I didn’t have my phone with me when Angel came out to the picnic tables last night, so I have absolutely no idea. There’s no clock in the apartment that I can see except the one on the microwave, and it’s flashing double digits and clearly wrong. I tiptoe over to the door — with no idea why I’m tiptoeing — and crack it open as quietly as I can.
Downstairs, there’s a hum of activity. It sounds like everyone else is already up.
Oh, God. I have to do the walk of shame in full view of the club.
Closing the door, I frantically go back to the bathroom — still tiptoeing like an idiot — and peer in the mirror. Staring back at me is a woman who looks like she’s had the best fuck of her life, followed by the best sleep of her life. I’m positively glowing.
And unfortunately, my hair looks like a freaking rat’s nest.
I do the best I can to comb through the mess with my fingers, then run some cold water and splash it on my face. My lips are bruised and swollen from Angel’s beard, but I’m just going to have to hope no one not
ices. The skin on my cheeks is tender and rashed, too. And now that I’m more awake, I realize I’m sore all over. Especially between my legs.
It feels freaking glorious, though. My whole body is a memory of last night.
When I’m as cleaned up as I’m going to get, I leave the bathroom and go back to the door — this time forcing myself to walk like a normal, non-insane person. As I crack the door open, the same murmur of voices and activity greets me. But there’s no one on the upstairs landing. There’s no one on the stairs.
If I go quickly enough, I can leave Angel’s apartment without anyone noticing.
I slip through the door and close it, and then I’m walking down the stairs, doing my best to look completely normal, not just-fucked, and especially not just-fucked-by-the-club-president. When I get to the main floor, no one in the swarm of activity even looks my way.
I make a bee-line for the kitchen. Dishes are stacked up in the rack next to the sink. Coffee cups are sitting upside-down on a towel.
The clock on the wall says ten-forty.
Ten-forty? How is it possible I’ve slept that late? A jolt of panic courses through me. This must mean that the Lords have already left. Angel’s definitely gone. Which also means the lockdown has started.
“Hey, Jewel.”
I turn to see Alix, Gunner’s old lady, with their one year-old daughter Olivia on her hip. Olivia is waving a spoon, her mostly-toothless mouth open in a wide grin. Olivia’s other hand is grabbing a lock of Alix’s wavy blond hair, which Alix calmly reaches up to pull out of her grasp.
“Hey,” I say back. I reach for a loaf of bread to make some toast, trying to act casual.
“I’m gonna make another pot of coffee,” she says, handing Olivia to me. “I figure it’ll be nice to have some ready all the time, since we’re gonna be here for a while. You want some?”
“Um, sure,” I nod, accepting the baby and automatically bouncing up and down softly on the balls of my feet to keep her happy.
“I haven’t seen you around this morning,” Alix continues as she pulls out a container of coffee and some filters. “You must have found a quiet corner to sleep, if you weren’t up at the butt crack of dawn. Between the men leaving and the kids acting like it’s Christmas morning, it’s been a constant din in here.”
“Yeah…” I nod vaguely. My face is flaming, but luckily Alix is busy pouring water into the coffee maker and doesn’t seem to notice. She keeps up a steady chatter as she works, but I’m barely following what she’s saying, my mind in a daze.
Holy shit I just had sex with Angel.
Holy shit I just had sex with Angel.
Holy fucking shit I just had sex with Angel!
“… with the other old ladies,” she’s saying. “Come on.”
As Alix lifts Olivia out of my grasp, I vaguely understand she’s asking me to come with her out into the main room, where the other women are hanging out and waiting. I tell her I’ll be out in a minute. Once she’s out of the kitchen I grab a piece of bread, slap some peanut butter on it, and cram it into my mouth. By then the coffee’s ready, so I pour two cups and bring them out.
“Anyone want a cup?” I ask as I walk toward the cluster of low couches where the old ladies are sitting. Eden, Alix’s sister, immediately raises her hand, but no one else does. I pass her one and keep the second for myself, then plop down in an empty chair.
“Lug Nut told me this run was nothing to worry about,” Eden is saying of her man. “But I’m pretty sure he just didn’t want me to worry.”
Alix chuckles. “Yeah. They do that. It’s sweet. But frustrating as hell sometimes, too.”
“All I know,” Brooke replies fretfully, “is Beast told me we shouldn’t expect them back before nightfall. I hope they aren’t gone much longer than that. It’s not even noon yet and I already feel like I’m going crazy.”
“It’s your first time on lockdown,” Jenna soothes. “It definitely can get to you. But it gets easier. Never easy, but better.”
“Oh!” I say suddenly, interrupting Jenna. “Where’s Jude? Has anyone seen him this morning?”
Brooke smirks. “Your brother? Last I saw, he was in the game room with the older kids. Noah and Connor are following him around like he’s some kind of god.”
“They are?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yeah. I mean, I get it. To them, he sort of is a god. He’s the cool teenager they hope to be someday. And he’s actually giving them the time of day. I don’t think Jude’s minding it much, though. He seems to be taking to stardom just fine.”
As if on cue, a small horde of kids come running down the hall, with Jude in the lead. Noah comes running over to us. Lila walks up a few steps behind him. “Mom, can we play pool?” he asks Jenna.
“You can use the pool tables, as long as you’re very careful,” Jenna nods, giving him a stern look. “Uncle Angel will be mad as heck if he comes back to see any damage to any of that stuff. It’s expensive. So don’t let me see you throwing the balls or using the cues for anything other than playing the way they’re supposed to be used. And don’t let the little kids climb around on the tables. You hear me?”
I suppress a snort, knowing how many times those expensive tables have had a club girl or two on top of them. The last time the felt had to be repaired, it was because a rogue stiletto heel ripped a foot-long hole in it.
“We won’t, we promise!” Noah runs off to join the others.
Brooke nods at Lila with a smile. “Has Jude beat you yet at that game?”
Lila shrugs. “Not yet. He’s getting closer, though. I thought I’d give him a chance to beat me at pool instead.”
I burst out laughing. “Lila,” I tell her, raising my cup to my mouth, “you may be just what my little brother needed.”
“You mean someone to knock him down a peg or two?” Lila asks, arching a brow. I nearly choke on my coffee. “Yeah, he’s a little cocky, but I’m used to that with boys.”
“Lila!” Noah calls from across the room. “Come on!”
“Well, I better go.” Lila grabs her mass of red curls into a pony tail and pulls a hair tie around it, then runs off.
I look at Brooke with wide eyes. “Wow.”
“I know, right?” Brooke laughs. “She is a pistol, that girl. She’s gonna take the world by storm someday. Too bad her mom and the rest of her family don’t seem to realize it.” Her smile fades. “Girls like her are exactly why I opened up that youth gym. Lila’s got way too much potential to fall through the cracks.”
Not for the first time, I’m filled with admiration for Brooke. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing for Lila, Brooke,” I tell her.
She gives me a kind smile. “Thanks, Jewel. Honestly, it’s hard sometimes not to worry about all the other girls who don’t make it to my gym. I have to force myself to just concentrate on the ones I can help, and hope for the best.”
As she talks, Smiley — one of the original members of the Lords and the resident medical man — comes lumbering in. Gunner’s mom, Lucy, is at his side.
“Ladies,” Smiley nods. “How y’all holding up?”
“There’s my adorable granddaughter!” Lucy croons. She stoops down to where Olivia is playing on a blanket next to Alix and scoops her up. “How’s she doing, hon?” Lucy asks Alix. “You want me to give her something to eat?”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Alix agrees. “She hasn’t had anything since earlier this morning. Better to do it now, when the kitchen’s empty, so we won’t be underfoot. You know where Olivia’s food is?”
“I do. I’ll try to get some cereal down her.”
“Thanks, Lucy,” Alix says gratefully. As they walk off toward the kitchen, Alix sighs. “I don’t know what I’d do without Gunner’s mom sometimes. Especially right now. You’d think I’d want to keep Olivia with me every second, waiting for the men to get back. But I’m just so damn antsy. Lucy just seems to take everything in stride.”
“I know what you mean,” Samantha agrees. “I g
uess someday, we’ll be the wise older women keeping this club together.” She chuckles. “Until then, I guess we just focus on keeping ourselves together, right? Thankfully, the kids barely seem to understand any of this. They’re still young enough that this feels like an extended slumber party to them.”
“No kidding,” Isabel says from her perch beside Brooke. She runs a distracted hand through her glossy black hair. “I wish I was that innocent. You’d think with an MC president for a father, I’d be better at this. But I’m going out of my mind, worrying about Thorn. I know he can take care of himself, but I can’t help it. What I wanna know is, when’s our fun slumber party?”
“We’ll get ours,” Sydney pipes up, glancing around our group. “Once this is over, we’ll do an old ladies’ girls night out. We deserve it!”
“Great idea!” Isabel laughs. “I’m in!”
There’s a raucous round of agreement from all the women. The idea of a night out is obviously a welcome distraction, and they all start chattering eagerly about where to go and who they can get to babysit their kids.
I finish my coffee and get up to go pour myself a refill. Frankly, I’m not really in the mood for another cup, but it’s a good excuse to exit the conversation, because I’m suddenly feeling awkward being there.
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