Until June (Until Her#2)

by Aurora Rose Reynolds

  “Do you want to watch Frozen with me?” she asks, leaning into my side and pressing her tits to my arm.

  Shaking my head, I laugh. “No.”

  “Do you think Ellie and Jax would notice if I kidnapped Hope?”

  “Probably.” I grin, watching her pout out her bottom lip.

  “Darn.” She sighs, hopping up on the counter next to the sink. “I’m bored, and Mom said she won’t be here for a few hours.”

  Shutting off the faucet, I move between her legs, wrap my hands around the back of her knees, and drag her flush against me. “I’m gonna head out when she gets here, but until then, I’ll entertain you.” I run my wet hands up her thighs, watching her eyes heat before her brows draw together.

  “You’re leaving when she gets here?”

  Moving my mouth to her exposed shoulder, I nip her skin and mutter,

  “Yep.”

  Her hands move up the skin of my back and her nails dig in as my mouth moves up her neck, licking and biting along the way to her ear. “We’re planning a wedding,” she breathes, as my hands glide up to cup her breasts, which are bare under her tank, allowing me to feel her nipples harden.

  “No, you’re planning a wedding with your mom.” I nip her ear.

  Pushing me back, her eyes search my face. “I thought you said you didn’t mind having a big wedding.”

  “I don’t, but I don’t need to be here when you’re planning it.”

  She frowns. “You don’t want to be involved in planning your own wedding?”

  “Nope,” I confess, skimming my hands down her sides then her hips, stopping there before moving my hands in and up the loose material of her shorts, finding her bare. My fingers slide deeper, skimming over her clit, making her hips jerk.

  “This isn’t fair.” Her head falls back and her legs spread wider, while her eyes slide to half-mast.

  “All’s fair in love and war, beautiful.”

  “This isn’t war. It’s planning a wedding. Our wedding,” she gets out through a moan.

  Ignoring her comment, I growl, “Tank off, put your hands behind you on the counter, and lean back.” Moving quickly, she takes her tank off, dropping it to the floor, then leans back, arching her chest forward. Lowering my mouth to her breast, I pull the whole thing into my mouth, listening to her whimper as I circle her nipple with my tongue.

  “Ev,” she whispers, making my already hard cock leak.

  Leaning away from her, I rip her shorts down her legs and kick off my sweats before moving in on her neglected breast, giving it the same treatment. Hearing her moan I slide my hands down the backs of her legs, I pull her forward on the counter and toss them up high around my waist.

  “Lock your legs, baby.” I kiss between her breasts, leaning her back until she’s flat on the counter.

  “I need you,” she pants, rocking her wet pussy against me, and I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to slide inside of her and give her what we both want.

  “You’ll get me. Now, lock your legs.” Feeling her legs tighten around my hips, I lean back, groaning at the sight of her. “So fucking beautiful.” My hands span her hips. They move up the curve of her waist to her breast, where I tug each nipple, making her back arch. “So fucking hot. Do you know how sexy you look right now?”

  I pull her nipples again, this time twisting them gently between my fingers. Her eyes slide closed and I listen to her moan so loud that I wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors heard her. “I love you, beautiful, but I’m not sitting through anymore wedding shit.” I glide one hand down over her stomach, placing my thumb over her clit.

  Her eyes open, meeting mine, and she pleads, “Please touch me.”

  “No more wedding shit,” I repeat. Her hips rock forward and her hands slide up her chest, cupping her breasts.

  “No more wedding shit,” she breathes.

  Moving one hand to her hip, I take my cock into my hand, slide it up and down her core, and use the tip to circle her clit, watching her wetness coat the head. “Fuck, but you get so goddamn wet for me every time I touch you.”

  “I know,” she agrees, lifting her hips so the tip nudges her entrance. “Please fuck me, Ev. I need you filling me.” Her words are my undoing, and I hold her hips tight and slide into her, feeling my skin prickle. Nothing feels as good as being inside of her.

  “Yes,” she hisses, locking her legs tighter as my pace picks up. Thumbing her clit, my eyes move from where my cock is disappearing inside of her, her breasts that her hands are cupping, her hair spread out on the counter, and her eyes closed with her lips parted.

  “Fuck, you’re perfect,” I hiss through my teeth, grinding my hips into hers while my thumb works faster. Feeling her start to convulse, I pull her up with my hand behind her neck. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, and I cover her mouth with mine, thrusting my tongue inside, tangling it with hers while her silky walls clamp down around me, making me come hard and fast. Slowing my strokes, I glide in and out of her before planting myself deep at the root.

  Our mouths never separate, even as we both pant for breath and she whispers, “I love you.”

  Moving my mouth from hers, I drop my forehead to her chest. “I love you too,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her back, even though those words do not even begin to define the way I feel for her.

  “I won’t ask you to help with the wedding anymore,” she says quietly after a long moment, while her hands trail down my back.

  Pulling back, I hold her face gently in my hands and kiss her, whispering, “Thank you.”

  “You could have said something.” Her hands move to my jaw while her eyes watch her fingers glide over my beard. “I just assumed you’d want to be a part of it.”

  “I can’t speak for all men, ’cause I’m sure some guys get off on shit like planning weddings, but that’s not me, beautiful.”

  “I kind of know that now.” She smiles, lifting her eyes to meet mine. “My mom was actually surprised by your involvement this week. She said she would have to tie my dad to the chair if she wanted to discuses flowers and stuff with him. And you made it through five days of not only flowers, but cakes, colors, and venues.” She grins, moving her fingers to glide over my lips.

  “I would do anything for you, baby, even sit through that shit all over again.”

  “So you’re saying you’ll be here when my mom comes over later?” she asks, biting her lip.

  “Fuck no,” I groan, and she drops her forehead to my chest, breaking into a fit of laughter that I feel in my dick, which is still semi-hard and deep inside of her.

  “It was worth a shot.” She giggles then squeaks as I lift her off the counter.

  “I will, however, continue to entertain you until she gets here,” I mutter, lifting her up slightly before dropping her back down on my cock, letting her feel that I’m ready to go again. It doesn’t take much for her to get me hard. Hell, her fucking voice is enough to put me on edge.

  “Oh,” she moans, locking her arms around my neck, while I carry her back to the bedroom. Keeping my promise, I entertain her while she rides me, and then I take her into the shower and entertain her with my mouth, making her come twice more before carrying her half-asleep to the bed, where I leave her with a deep, wet kiss and a promise to see her in a few hours.

  “Yo,” Sage greets, sliding into the booth across from me, pushing a yellow folder across the table toward me before looking across the bar at the waitresses. With a lift of his chin, he calls her over.

  “I’m guessing since you have this”—I hold up the envelope—“you got something.”

  His eyes come back to me. “Not sure,” he mutters, then looks at the waitress when she comes to stand at our table.

  “What can I get you?” she asks quietly, avoiding looking at him in the eyes.

  “Just a beer. Whatever you have that’s cold,” he says, and she nods before wandering off toward the bar.

  Opening the envelope when she’s gone, I pull out a stack of photos
and flip through them. Nico’s been working on closing up the loose ends on his case, while Wes and the guys have been building theirs. We know for a fact Jordan is attempting to build up alliances within the club. What we don’t know is exactly who he’s convinced to follow along with him, so Wes asked me to recruit Sage to see what he could find out. Scanning the photos, I pause on one and study it.

  “What is it?” Sage asks, and I flip the photo over and push it across the table.

  “When was this taken?” I tap the picture of Jordan standing outside next to his bike, talking to a woman, a woman I swear I’ve seen before, but can’t place.

  Picking up the picture, his eyes scan it and he shrugs. “Last Saturday night, I followed him to a bar downtown. When he got there, he didn’t go inside. He stayed on his bike, parked out back for about ten minutes, before she came out the backdoor to talk to him.”

  “Why does she look familiar?” I ask myself, studying the picture.

  “I don’t know. Did you hook up with her?” he questions, and my eyes narrow when they meet his. “Do not fucking go there,” I growl.

  “Just asking, man. I don’t know who she is.” He frowns, looking at the picture. “He gave her something. I couldn’t see what it was from where I was parked. But I did notice she made sure to keep herself away from him, even when he tried to reach out and touch her. She moved away before he could make contact.”

  “Fuck,” I clip, realizing that the woman belongs to one of the new members. I haven’t seen her more than a couple times, but studying the picture, I know it’s her. “That motherfucker.”

  “What?” Sage asks, and I pull out my cell phone, hit Harlen’s number, and press Call.

  “This better be good,” Harlen says, answering on the third ring.

  “What was the name of the bar?” I ask, looking at Sage, who is watching me closely.

  “What?” Harlen asks in my ear, while Sage says, “Dakota’s.”

  “Does Lee’s woman work at a bar called Dakota’s?” I ask into the phone, watching the waitress come back our way with Sage’s beer, setting it on the table before taking off once more without another word.

  “Yeah, why?” Harlen asks, and I grit my teeth.

  “Jordan paid her a visit last weekend and gave her something. I don’t know what he gave her or what they talked about, but I can fucking guess.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Harlen growls, knowing exactly what I’m saying.

  A few months before Lee was discharged from the marines after being injured, his daughter was diagnosed with leukemia. The insurance the military provided prior to his discharge was enough to make sure his little girl got the care she needed, but now that he’s no longer in the military, his benefits have been cut. Fucking Jordan knows that shit, and my guess is he’s using it to get to him.

  “How many men has he gotten to using this same tactic?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I’ll get back to you,” Harlen clips, hanging up.

  Setting my cell down, I move through the pictures again, slowly this time, and notice more than once that Jordan has met up with women. None of them are women I’m familiar with, but that doesn’t mean shit, since I don’t really pay attention to who the guys are spending their time with. Rubbing my hands down my face, I fight the urge to pick up my half-empty beer bottle and toss it across the bar.

  “You good, man?” Sage asks quietly, settling his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

  “No,” I grit out.

  “It—” His words cut off and his jaw tightens when his eyes move over my shoulder. “Fuck,” he growls, tightening his fingers around the bottle in his hand. Turning my head, I spot Kim walking toward the bar with her boyfriend. “I’m out, man. Call me if you need anything else.”

  My eyes move back to him as he pulls cash from his pocket, tossing it on the table before stalking to the door without a backward glance. Looking over to where Kim is standing, I see her eyes fixed on the door that Sage just left through and shake my head. Eventually, one of them will give in to the obvious pull they feel and when they do everyone better stand back.

  Chapter 14

  June

  “So we agree the colors are peach, taupe, and pearl?” Mom asks, looking across the cluttered table at me, and I nod.

  The first week of wedding planning was exciting. The second week of wedding planning was fun. The third week of wedding planning has me wanting to jump out a window. Everyday, I’m more and more tempted to throw in the reins and tell Evan to book us a flight to Vegas and let Elvis marry us.

  “And the cake. Do you still like the chocolate one with the raspberry filling?” she questions, jotting something down in her notebook. A notebook that would put the world’s best wedding planner to shame. “I kind of liked the vanilla spice one, but it’s your wedding,” she mutters absently to herself before I can answer, and I roll my eyes. I don’t even think this wedding could be defined as “mine” anymore. I love my mom, but she has lost her damn mind and gone Momzilla all over this damn ceremony.

  “Mom, it’s almost ten. How about we work on this again in a few days?” I yawn, looking toward the bedroom, where I know Evan is hiding away, watching TV with Ninja. Both of them are smart enough to stay out of sight when my mom’s here. It’s crazy, but I miss him. We live together and I see him every day, but I miss him. This wedding planning business is ruining my life. I could totally be having sex right now, but instead, I’m confirming things I’ve already confirmed a hundred and fifty-two billion times.

  “We just need to go over a few more things,” she says, dropping her pen to the table so she can move some of the swatches and things around on its surface, while muttering to herself under her breath.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell her, but know she is so lost in La-La Wedding Land that she doesn’t hear me. Going to the living room, I look for my cell there, and then head to the laundry room to do the same, before finally finding it in the kitchen under the mail Evan brought in when he came home. Pulling up the text to my dad, I slam my fingers down on my keys in rapid, annoyed succession.

  Dad, do whatever you have to do, but get the crazy woman you call your wife out of my house NOW! before I kill her.

  I press Send then watch a bubble appear on the screen, letting me know he’s replying.

  On it, June Bug.

  Sighing in relief, I move back to the table, just as my mom’s cell rings, and take a seat, praying my torture is almost over. Picking up her phone, she looks at it and shakes her head then presses a button, making it go silent.

  “Don’t you want to answer that?” I ask in a panic, as she goes back to writing stuff down in her notebook.

  “It’s just your dad. He can wait until we’re done.”

  Dropping my head to the top of the table, I debate just leaving her and heading for my room. At this point, she might not even notice, I think, as her phone starts to ring again.

  “Mom, your phone is ringing,” I point out, watching her silence it once again.

  “He can wait,” she repeats then glares at my phone when it starts to ring. “Do not answer that.” Her tone is one I know to obey, one she’s used since I was little. Biting my lip, I sit back and listen to my cell ring and ring before going to voicemail.

  “Now,” she continues when my phone goes silent. “I think the venue is a toss-up between Southhall Meadows and Springtree Farms. I called both, and if we book either one by the weekend, they can lock in the date.”

  “Both are nice,” I say absently, looking at the cupboard above the fridge where I keep my tequila. Maybe if I’m drunk, this won’t feel like torture. Hell, maybe I can convince her to take a few shots and she’ll pass out.

  “Asher called me. He said answer your phone,” Evan says, scaring the crap out of me when he steps into the room, wearing a pair of loose sweats and a white shirt that fits him snug, showing off the muscles of his torso. Coming up behind me, he rests his hands on my should
ers then leans down, kissing the top of my head.

  “He called you too?” Mom frowns, looking at Evan, then drops her eyes to her phone when it starts to ring again. “Hello,” she answers on the second ring, then pauses, turning her body away from Evan and me. “Asher,” she hisses then mutters, “Fine, but I’m not happy, so you will not be happy either.”

  “Is this the kind of thing I have to look forward to?” Evan asks, and I tilt my head back to look up at him, shrugging, which makes him shake his head, grin, and pull me up out of the chair so he can kiss me.

  “Well, apparently I’ve been summoned by your father,” Mom says, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be over tomorrow, and we’ll talk about the stuff we didn’t get settled tonight, since I need to get home.”

  “Next week,” Evan cuts in before I can say anything, and my mom looks at him with wide eyes.

  “We’re planning your wedding, a wedding that we only have a couple months to plan. We have so much to do. We can’t stop now,” Mom sputters, and Evan shakes his head, wrapping his arm around my waist and bringing me even closer.

  “Next week. June needs a break. She’s been running herself ragged. You guys can get back to planning after the weekend.”

  Mom’s eyes move from Evan to me, and whatever she sees makes her eyes go soft. “Oh, all right, next week,” she agrees, surprising me. “But we really do need to get the details ironed out.”

  “I promise we’ll sort everything out next week,” I agree, and she reaches out, touching my cheek softly.

  “I just want your wedding to be perfect,” she whispers, making me feel like an ass for just wanting the whole thing over with.

  “I know,” I whisper back, stepping forward and giving her a tight hug. Leaning back, she searches my face for a moment then kisses my cheek.

  “I better hurry and pack up, so I can get home before your dad calls again or shows up.” She rolls her eyes, letting me go so she can drag the large suitcase she came in with back toward the table, where all the contents that were inside of it are now scattered.