Steel My Soul (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Sons of Steel Motorcycle Club Book 4)

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Steel My Soul (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Sons of Steel Motorcycle Club Book 4) Page 6

by Lux, Vivian


  "Hi there!" she smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "I thought you might come back."

  I hedged. "Yeah," I said, non-commitally. Why the hell did she think that?

  "I just ran out for coffee, you want some?"

  "Uh, sure." Unsure of what exactly was going on, I decided to follow her into her apartment. Besides, I was enjoying the view from back here. Gabi was wearing these tight little yoga pants, and the way her ass punched against the thin fabric did something even nicer to my stomach. Her hair was swung back over her shoulder, and in the sunlight I could see the little marks on her skin where I had kissed her neck. I liked that. I liked that I had marked her as mine, even if it was only for a night.

  "It's my day off!" she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice even if I was still staring at her butt. "And I'm so proud of myself, because I'd actually got up this morning, and didn't just spend the whole day lazing around in bed."

  "Why would that be a bad thing?" I smirked.

  She put her key in the lock and turned back to look at me. "Well it really depends on who I'm lying in bed with…."

  My heart did a weird little flop. "Hey, let me carry that," I reached for the steaming tray of coffees. They smelled fucking delicious, not at all like the swill we used to down at the clubhouse. I don't care if it makes me less of a man, I fucking love fancy coffee drinks.

  She smiled and handed the tray over, then gave the sticky door a shove. She stepped over the threshold and then turned back and looked at me. "So I have something of yours… Ben."

  She said my name like it was supposed to mean something to me. The way she paused, the way she bounced from side to side on her toes, it all told me I should be picking up a clue that I was missing. All this subtle, non-verbal communication shit that chicks do really confused the hell out of me.

  I pulled my usual routine, vague smile, a casual run of my fingers over my bald scalp. Usually that was enough to derail whatever it was they were trying to tell me.

  But Gabi was still staring at me, head cocked to the side, exposing the curve of her long neck. Jesus, she really was beautiful. I could tell in the dark, but here in the daytime, the morning sun streaming through the window I had decided not to break, gave her skin a golden hue. Her eyes were so wide set she almost looked alien, but in the most beautiful way, huge chocolate pools that looked good enough to drown in. I both congratulated myself on scoring her last night and yelled at myself for not having enjoyed her even more.

  "Yeah," I finally said, seeing that she was expecting me to say something. "I appreciate you grabbing it, I kind of need it."

  Gabi paused, working her lips like she wanted to say something. Then she gave a slight shake of her head and turned around. This girl showed every emotion she ever had. Watching her was like getting a direct show of her brain. She'd make a really shitty poker player.

  "I'm glad you're back," she said softly. "Maybe we could catch up."

  "Catch up?"

  She did that a full body shudder thing again, like my words had somehow caused her physical pain. I felt the gnawing guilt deep in my stomach, the kind that came when someone expected me to remember something I had no way of getting a hold of.

  Did I know this girl?

  Had I fucked her before?

  Had I broken her heart and somehow not remembered it?

  The familiar feeling of resentment was starting to bubble up in my chest. I was getting angry, at this girl, at myself. What was I thinking in coming back to this town? Of course there would be ghosts here.

  Gabi twisted her mouth a little, a cute little quirk that would have made me want to kiss her again if I wasn't so on edge. She set two cups of coffee out on the battered kitchen table, strewn with opened envelopes and a whole mess of earrings, and then sat heavily down in one of the mismatched chairs.

  "Relax, Ben," she finally exhaled. "It's okay that you don't remember me. It was a long time ago, and I was only a kid."

  I sat down heavily, stretching my bad leg out straight in front of me, feeling better to be able to stretch it. I stared at my coffee cup, tracing my finger around the rim. It was still too hot to drink, somehow. But I ached to do something with it to soothe the nervousness in my hands. "Did I…?"

  She grinned, those wide kissable lips spread into a smile that would have knocked my socks off if I wasn't feeling so shitty. "No," she said, "we never actually talked before last night." She extended her hand, "I'm Gabriela Ortiz," she said formally. "Class of 2010."

  I blinked at her. Doing some quick math, I recognized that I was the class of 2008. She wouldn't have brought up graduation unless we had gone to the same school. "So, you knew me before my accident," I said slowly, still trying to feel everything out.

  She smiled at me like I had just done something that I should be really proud of, and I tried not to bristle and feel like I was being patronized. "That's right, my sister was a grade ahead of you."

  "Oh," was all I said. She wanted more than that. I could tell she wanted more than that. She wanted my eyes to go wide with recognition, a sudden flood of memories to take over, nostalgia that would carry us both backwards through time, laughing at inside jokes and all that other bullshit. She wanted me to remember her specifically, to say something about how I had noticed her in the hallways, to tell her something intimate that she could hold onto. She wanted all of these things but I couldn't give her a single glimmer.

  "Oh. Cool," I elaborated. I looked at the door, wondering just how much she'd hate me forever if I just got up and walked away now. Better have her hate me than pity me, though.

  But when Gabi's beautiful face crashed down into a frown, I changed my mind about walking out. Instead, my guilt redoubled. I leaned forward, pressing my elbows into the table. I didn't usually feel like I needed to explain, but for some reason with Gabi, I wanted to try anyway.

  "Look, I don't know how much you know about what happened," I started, fiddling with the paper sleeve on the cup. "But that accident, well, it kind of changed everything for me."

  "So you really can't remember anything?" Gabi exhaled, leaning back in her chair.

  The way she stared at me hurt me physically. I had never had someone listen to my words so carefully before. Not Doctor D., not anyone. It was a strange feeling to be taken so seriously and it made me struggle all the harder to give her the real story.

  "No, it's not exactly like that," I finally said, moving my hands like I could grab the words out of thin air. Describing to someone what it was like in my head was a monumental task. "It's like...these videos play in my brain, stuff I know must have happened to me, because why else would they be playing, you know?" I shot a look at her, then ducked away from the intensity of her gaze. Fuck. "I'm just watching them, though. They don't feel like things that actually happened to me. You understand?"

  I felt like I was pleading with her. Stop looking at me like I'm a puzzle you want to figure out. Let's just go back to fucking, that's a whole hell of a lot easier.

  Gabi shook her head slowly, her eyes wide. She looked like she wanted to say something, then stopped and hesitated. She bit her lip and took a sip from her coffee cup, then made a gagging face. "Too hot still," she lisped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. A little bit of foam clung to the corner of her mouth.

  She was so damn cute I had to laugh a little and some of the tension in the air broke. "Yeah I'm waiting, I think this drink is still mostly steam at this point. What do they even do to these things?"

  She exhaled a laugh, and settled more comfortably into her chair. "I think you're right, honestly. The steam condenses into liquid and then we can drink it."

  I grinned at her. I didn't know what else to do. The intense scrutiny was over, to my relief, and I was finding that I liked her. I liked her naked body, but I liked her too. "Thanks for thinking of me," I said. "That was sweet of you. "

  She grinned archly. "Well, when you left so early this morning…" she said meaningfully.

  I hung my h
ead in mock shame. "Clearly that was the wrong move on my part. It's not every day I find a gorgeous girl who will bring me fancy, over-priced coffee on a whim."

  Her smile faded from her lips and she pressed them together, biting the lower one in such a sexy way that I couldn't help myself. I reached over and flicked that little bit of foam. "Got something there," I told her, swiping my thumb over her lip.

  Just like it had last night, the feel of her lips under my fingers made my pants uncomfortably tight. She let her lip go slack, allowing me to press my thumb further into her hot little mouth. I had such a vivid flash of her wrapping those plump pillows around my cock that I nearly came into my pants.

  "Ben…," she said hesitantly. It came out like a whisper, filled with regret.

  I shook my head. "No," I told her with more vehemence than I intended. "You don't call me that, you call me what you called me last night. Before you knew this about me."

  She fixed me with those deep brown eyes. Then she nodded slowly, my thumb still in her mouth. "Crash," she whispered, biting my finger lightly.

  "That's right."

  "Why are you here?" she sucked my thumb.

  I knew what she was asking, but I deliberately misinterpreted her question. I didn't feel like talking about the past, I felt like getting into those yoga pants. "I'm here for my wallet." I raised my eyebrows.

  She raised hers, a faint smile playing across those lovely lips. "Just for your wallet?" she hummed around my thumb and I wished desperately that it was my cock.

  "And you found it," I murmured. "You deserve a reward." She closed her eyes with a soft noise and closed her lips around my thumb. Then she sucked it into her mouth greedily, swirling her tongue around it.

  Holy fuck. I shot up from the chair so fast I knocked it over. Scooping her up into my arms, I forgot all about my limp and crossed the room in two strides, depositing her on the bed. She tore at my clothes, her eyes wide as I fumbled for my belt buckle "I need to see you," she gasped. "I didn't get to see you."

  "Fuck, baby, if I look at you too long I'm going to lose it entirely. You have any idea how beautiful you are?" I asked, as the golden light streaming through the window hit her incredible skin. She was so golden and perfect she practically glowed.

  "I want to see," she pointed, "that."

  I looked down at my crotch and lifted my hands in surrender. "Look all you like, baby, it's all yours."

  Something about this girl was making me much more eloquent than I normally would be in bed. She made me want to talk, to make promises I wasn't sure I'd keep. I just wanted to make her smile that perfect smile again.

  Gabriela's little hands fluttering around the zipper of my jeans was enough to make me bite down hard on my lip. I tasted blood for a second, and for just that moment my raging hard-on dwindled enough to allow blood to rush back to my brain. What was I doing? Last night was fun and all, but I had just had shit go down pretty spectacularly because of a chick. A chick I thought I had feelings for. Hadn't I learned my lesson yet?

  But when Gabriela's lips closed around my cock, all that doubt washed away. I sank my fingers into her hair, feeling that mass of curls. If she didn't stop with that sweet moaning, I was going to come right in her mouth, and as hot as it was, I didn't want to waste it. Being inside of her, making her scream, making her come so her pussy tightened around me, that was what I was after. That was the stuff I was back for.

  "You're so good baby," I told her bending down to lift her by her armpits. "But I can't let you do all the work."

  She raised her eyebrows and wiped her mouth across with the back of her hand. "And why's that?" she asked me, eyes twinkling.

  Damn this girl gave as good as she got. "Because I have a reputation to maintain now," I told her.

  "Yes, you do," she purred. "You have a fan right here."

  I'll admit it, though I've always prided myself on my pussy licking prowess, that little vote of confidence was exactly what I needed. So I decided to make this visit worth both our while.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gabriela

  Crash's arm was flung up over his eyes, blocking out the late morning sun. I couldn't tell if he was asleep or not, but he was still and relaxed; the tension around his jaw had dissolved away. There was a snake, brightly colored and boldly outlined, winding its way down his side, so lifelike I could almost hear its hiss. More tattoos adorned his torso, and part of me wanted to ask what each one meant. The other part of me wanted to leave him to his secrets.

  The bedsheets were tangled into ropes and I was cold. I shut my eyes and sighed deeply, a slight tinge of unease rustling through my body. I had fucked him again...and again right after that. The man had stamina, but apart from that, what the fuck was I doing?

  I had picked up an amnesiac at the bar last night. And I seemed I knew more about his past than he did. All of that filled me with a defensive sense of foreboding. This was not a complication I needed in my life, and though I would definitely miss that magical tongue of his, the fact remained that he was a wild card in a deck I had shuffled exactly to my liking.

  I rolled over and pressed my lips to his shoulder, then licked him, tasting the salt of his sweat. He stirred and smiled, those lips curling happily upward before he lifted his arm from his eyes and blinked like a cat.

  "Hey," he whispered softly.

  I had meant to tell him to go. A lie was ready on my lips, a story I had spun about needing to go into work, about how I would see him soon. But when he rolled on to his elbow and lifted my hair into his fingers, all of my lies fell away. I answered his soft kiss, delighting in how warm and pliable his lips were.

  "So I need to ask you something," he said, pulling a serious face.

  My heart fluttered. "Yeah?"

  That bashful look, the one that made him look so much like the Ben of old, reappeared on his face. "I'm thinking," he said slowly, and I held my breath waiting for a declaration. "I'm thinking that you gave me a pretty good workout and I must not be smellin' too pretty," he finally elaborated.

  I let out my breath in a whoosh of frustration, but he didn't hear it. "Any way I might be able to use your shower?" he continued.

  I swallowed hard as my traitorous brain immediately leapt to images of Crash's well-muscled body slick with soap and lather. "No problem," I told him, hoping that the excitement would stay the hell out of my voice.

  He kissed the tip of my nose. "Thanks," he said simply, then stood up and stretched. I took in every bit of him as he stood there in a shaft of light, from the muscles on his torso to the scars on his head. I hadn't seen them properly until just now, the network of fine lines that ran like a spiderweb down the right side of his forehead, dragging the lid of his eye down with them. There was a deeper one, heavy and thick, running up the outside of his leg, from his calf all the way up to his thigh, but I hadn't noticed it until he stood in the light because it was intertwined with an intricate tattoo. The menacing, hooded figure of death, reaching for a man on a motorcycle who was just out of his reach.

  It made me shiver.

  Crash padded to the bathroom, completely and unashamedly naked. I lay back down in bed and contemplated joining him. The ever-present dilemma of curly-haired women - is it worth getting my hair wet?

  My stomach decided for me. In all of the fucking, I had forgotten to eat, and the digital clock on my bedside table told me it was close to two in the afternoon. I decided to surprise Crash with a late lunch, figuring he had to be at least as hungry as I was since he had done most of the work in bed.

  I pulled on my clothes and padded over to my miniscule little wall kitchen. Poking around in my refrigerator yielded me some habichuelas my mother had sent me home with after the last family dinner. I quickly set about steaming some rice, and warming the beans, filling my little apartment with the rich scents. I hoped Crash wasn't afraid of a little Puerto Rican home cooking.

  I hummed a little as I looked out of my kitchen window onto the slushy main street. Lenape wasn't
so busy that I regretted living on the main road, but I still sometimes felt like I lived in a fishbowl, especially when I had to find on-street parking. I was zoned out, mindlessly enjoying the novel pleasure of preparing food for someone besides myself, when I saw the car slow down in front of my place.

  The loud noise of the water in the pipes shut off and I knew Crash had finished his shower, but I was too caught up in the man getting out in front of my house. He looked down at a clipboard and back up to the house several times before he started up the walk.

  I was at my front door before he had a chance to walk. Seeing me seemed to startle him.

  "I'm looking for Benjamin Nelson?" he asked, looking down at his clipboard to double-check.

  Crash emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His face darkened when he saw the man at the door, suspicion clouding his features. "Who are you?" he barked, his voice laced with leathery menace.

  "Are you Benjamin Nelson?" the man asked with no small amount of trepidation.

  Crash didn't answer, only staring at him. I looked between the two of them, wondering if I should speak. "He is," I finally said.

  Crash shot me a murderous look and I swallowed hard. But the man only nodded.

  "I'm here from Morgan County Elder Care. Marion Hunt had you listed as her next of kin, and our log had you residing at this address." The man looked up at both of our shocked faces. "We had no contact number, so I had to come out personally," he added, sounding aggrieved. "I regret to inform you that Marion passed away about a half an hour ago."

  My heart stood still and I looked back at Crash. I waited for his cry, his shock and grief. But the only sound was the water dripping from his body to a puddle at his feet. His face showed nothing at all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Declan

  A belch bubbled up into my beard. I dug my fist into my chest, and tried to suppress it, but it snuck out anyway.

  This fucking indigestion wasn't getting any better. I could chew Tums like candy and it still wouldn't be able to stop the acidic fire in my chest. Fucking shit food, shit conditions, it was no wonder my stomach lining wanted to eat itself.

 

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