He pulled my areola into his mouth, teasing it to hardness. I gasped at the sensation that shocked through my body at his touch. He reached down between my legs, finding my center, and groaned against my nipple. “Fuck, Seton. You’re so wet. You’re so wet for me.”
He moved on top of me then, and knelt between my legs. His cock was already hard, and he pressed it against the wetness of my entrance, sliding it slowly back and forth across my clit. I moaned and spread my legs apart for him, almost painfully aroused. I wanted to feel him fill me like he did last night, and I drew in a breath in anticipation. Suddenly, he flipped me over, and I was on top of him, straddling him as he lay back, watching me.
“I want to see you make yourself come with me,” he said thickly. His eyes were hooded with desire. I needed release so badly I didn’t even think to be shy. I reached down and took his cock in my hand, the tip of it glistening with my juices and his precum, and began to slide it against myself, rocking my hips softly against him. The slick friction of it made me moan, and I threw my head back in ecstasy.
“Fuck, yeah,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking sexy, Seton.”
My breathing began to speed up as I increased my rhythm. I was so turned on I knew it wouldn’t take me long, but I couldn’t slow down, couldn’t wait, I needed it so badly. He reached up and teased my nipples with his thumbs and I felt myself coming closer and closer to the edge.
“Tell me what you want,” he groaned.
“I need to come,” I moaned immediately. “God, your cock feels so good, Greyson, I’m so close…”
I started to close my eyes but he stopped me. “Look at me. I want to see you come.”
I locked eyes with him, watching his own desire play across his face. “Come for me, Seton,” he urged. “Come for me on my cock.” I shuddered and called his name as I flew over the edge, hips thrusting against his cock. Just as I crested the first wave, he changed the angle of his hips and pushed himself inside me. I cried out as another wave of my orgasm washed over me, and I rode him as he thrust underneath me. I heard him roar as he climaxed, filling me with his release.
I collapsed on top of him, and his arms wrapped tight around me. We slept.
When I woke, the sun was up, and the smell of fresh-brewed coffee was wafting toward me. I breathed deeply, smiling, and opened my eyes to find Grey standing at the foot of the bed, a cup in his hand.
“I hope you like coffee,” he said. “I don’t know how you take it. I’ve got some sugar, but I don’t have any milk or cream.”
“Cream and sugar are an abomination,” I replied, taking the cup from him gratefully. “Black is the only acceptable way to drink coffee.”
“Okay. You’re hardcore about coffee. So noted,” he grinned.
I took a sip and moaned gratefully. “Thank you. This is heaven.”
He sat down on the bed next to me. “I don’t really cook, so there’s no breakfast.”
I propped a pillow behind my back and sat up. “Luckily, I do. Do you have eggs?”
He nodded. “And bread. Cheese, too, I think. Not too much else, though.”
“Do you have any vegetables?”
His brow furrowed. “Frozen, maybe.”
“Okay,” I said. “I can work with that. Just give me a couple of minutes to start feeling human.”
After I finished my first cup of coffee, I grabbed my T-shirt and underwear from the floor, saying a silent prayer of thanks that Grey hadn’t destroyed that pair like he had the first one. Out in the kitchen, I found cheese in the fridge, and some sliced ham, too, so I made us omelets and toast. Grey made a show of mocking the omelets as too fancy for a big he-man like himself, but I noticed he didn’t hesitate to gobble it up after he had taken the first experimental bite.
“Holy mother of God, this is good,” he marveled as he chewed.
“Have you seriously never had an omelet?” I asked, crinkling my nose.
“Guys like me only eat food that comes off a bone,” he growled, but his eyes were twinkling.
“Caveman,” I bantered.
“Seriously, though, of course I’ve had a fucking omelet,” he continued. “But this is goddamn fantastic. Did you seriously make this just with the stuff that you found in this kitchen?”
I smiled happily, basking in the compliment. Grey wasn’t really the type to be effusive, so I believed he meant what he said.
We sat and munched in companionable silence for a few minutes. Eventually, I asked the question that had been on my mind off and on since this morning. “Were you serious when you said you don’t bring women here?” I asked, partly to break the silence, and partly because I was genuinely curious.
Grey took another forkful of food. “I don’t sleep with women. Sex is sex. I don’t like complications.”
I looked down at my plate. “Is that what I am? A complication?”
He put his fork down and looked at me. “Honestly? Yes,” he acknowledged. “But in your case, the complications have advantages.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Like what?” I asked.
“Remember what I said about your rack?”
I giggled. “That’s really sexist, Grey.”
“Not if I mean it sincerely,” he countered. “And believe me, I do.” His eyes descended to my chest, his lips spreading into an exaggerated leer. “Particularly when you wear that tight little T-shirt and forget to put on a bra.”
I reddened. “Stop that, and finish your breakfast.”
Grey stood up. “You want some more coffee?”
“Yes, please!” I held out my cup and he refilled my coffee for me. When he sat down, his face had a more serious cast.
“I meant what I said, though,” he said quietly. “You’re the first woman to spend the night here.”
I knew it was probably only because he felt bad about the shock of what had happened with Wes. I found myself wishing it was more, but I pushed those thoughts away and told myself just to be happy with what I had. The sex last night and this morning with Grey had been… unbelievable. I needed to just be content with that and not wish for things that weren’t going to happen.
“So,” he continued, interrupting my thoughts. “What are you going to do about the bar?”
I sighed. “Well, I think it’s fair to say I probably don’t have a job anymore.”
“Would you want to go back there, after what that pig tried to do to you?” he asked sharply.
“No,” I admitted. “I don’t think I could. Even though I’m pretty sure Wes would never dare to touch me again after what you did to him.” I looked up at Grey, suddenly afraid. “Do you think he’ll press assault charges on you?”
Grey snorted. “That little fuck? He knows he deserved it, and much more. He’s too much of a pussy to go to the police. He’d have to answer to the club, and he knows it.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at me. “So, what are you going to do now?”
“I’m not sure.”
Grey cleared his throat. “You could come work at the clubhouse bar.”
I eyed him quizzically. “There’s an opening?”
He shifted in his seat. “No, not exactly. But we can always use someone who knows how to pour a drink.”
“You don’t know that I’m any good at my job,” I teased him. “Besides, from what little I’ve seen of that bar, there’s not a big call for a bartender who does craft cocktails.”
A bark of laughter escaped him. “You got me there. It’d be mostly opening beer bottles and serving shots of whiskey.”
“What about the other club members?” I challenged him. “The ones I’ve seen look pretty dangerous, and they don’t look like they necessarily take no for an answer where women are concerned. Wouldn’t it be potentially even less safe for me there than at the Cactus?”
He sat back. “You’re not wrong. Except the women who hang around the club aren’t the type to say no. But yeah, you’d be safe. No one would dare lay a finger on you if they know you’re with me.”
“Am I with you?” I challenged.
“Fuck yes, you’re with me,” he growled. “You’re a pain in the ass, sometimes,” he continued with a smirk, “But like I said before, you have a certain something that makes you worth it.”
His eyes bored into mine, and it was as though he was touching me, the way the heat from them raced through me to my core.
“Grey,” I started, my voice cracking with emotion. I took a deep breath and let it out. What he was saying… it was more than I could process. We were together, in his eyes, it was clear. And God, if I was honest with myself, I wanted that. More than anything.
But there was so much that could come between us. The club. My brother. The past. I didn’t know how to navigate through all of that. It felt like a minefield was separating him from me.
“So,” he asked again. “Will you come work at the clubhouse?”
I smiled and shook my head slowly. “Thanks for the offer, Grey, but no thanks. I think I need to take some time to figure out what I want to do next.” I made a mental calculation. I had a fair amount of money saved up, which I had been planning to use to go back to college. But deep down, I knew I just didn’t want to do that. I figured I had at least six months of income built up, if I was really careful with my spending. Maybe it was time to take a step back and think about my future as more of a big picture.
Grey didn’t press it. But he seemed to have something else on his mind. “Uh, Seton. I actually came to the bar last night to talk to you about something.”
I blinked my eyes and looked at him. In all the confusion of the night before, I had forgotten to wonder why he had shown up at the bar in the first place. I nodded at him now. “Okay. What about?”
“I wanted to let you know that I sent Cal and another prospect out on their first run for the club yesterday. With two of my best men. They did just fine. I know you’ve been worried,” he added. “So, I just thought I’d come by and tell you that.”
“I saw a gun in Cal’s waistband the last time I saw him, Greyson,” I countered. “It’s hard to feel like things will be fine when I know he’ll be carrying.”
“It’s just a reality, Seton.” He drained his cup. “It’s a precaution. Lots of people pack. You probably encounter a dozen people or more in the course of a day who are armed and you just don’t know it. It would be crazy for me to send a brother out without the ability to defend himself.”
“So, it really is dangerous, then. Cal really will be in danger sometimes, if he gets patched in.”
“It’s not an easy life, Seton,” he said seriously. “Hell, it’s not always a safe life. I’m not going to lie to you.” He looked at me. “But it’s a life your brother is choosing.”
I considered that. “Do you think he’s cut out for it? That he’ll be patched in?”
“It’s too early to tell,” he acknowledged. “But I think maybe so.”
“Please, protect him, Grey,” I whispered, barely daring to ask. “Please.”
“Seton,” he said gravely, “I can’t protect Cal from everything. I can’t protect him from the world, or from his choices. Neither can you. I can promise you that I do everything I can for my club and my brothers. I would die for any of them. They would die for each other.” His eyes were serious. “Cal won’t have the safest life in the world, but he won’t be stuck in a fucking cubicle day after day, either. And he’ll have a family in the club. It’s a brotherhood. It’s a hard life, but it’s a good one.”
A family. The words resonated in my head. Maybe in a way, Cal was looking for a family he didn’t have, I realized. With his father dead and an estranged brother, the only remaining actual family he had was me, and to a lesser extent my mom. There were no men for him to look up to, no men for him to emulate. Maybe Cal was just looking for a family, after all.
Grey noticed that I had grown quiet, and didn’t disrupt my thoughts. He stood and took the breakfast dishes away, putting them in the sink. He left the kitchen, and noises from the back of the house told me he was occupied with other things, so I sat and finished my coffee, pensive.
Some time later — I’m not sure how much time had passed — a loud curse interrupted my thoughts. Grey came back into the kitchen fully dressed, his jaw clenched.
“Get dressed,” he said through his teeth. “We have to go. Now.”
16
Grey
The blood drained from Seton’s face when I told her we had to leave. But to her credit, she didn’t waste time asking questions, and I was grateful for that. Without a word, she got up from the table and went to the bedroom. In less than a minute, she was back out in the living room, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail.
I held out my phone and showed her the text I’d gotten from Levi:
Go to the clubhouse ASAP. Something went bad with the run. Will call you
Seton’s eyes widened in fear as she read it. She opened her mouth but I cut her off. “I don’t know. Best thing we can do is get there right now. Levi’s on it. He’ll call me when he can talk.”
Her face was white as a sheet as I handed her the helmet and she silently got on my bike. I drove like a demon and we were there in six minutes. Levi pulled in right behind us and cut his engine.
“What?” I demanded.
“Driveby.” His eyes were murderous. “At Maisie’s.”
Maisie’s was a local diner the next town over that was friendly to bikers. It was a frequent hangout for the club when we came back from a ride.
I swore. “Who?”
“Trigger and Repo, for sure. The two prospects, too, I think.”
Behind me, Seton made a strangled sound.
“What do we know?” I demanded.
“Not much yet. At least one of them had an AR-15 or something like it. Sounds like they might have hit some civilians, too. At least one of ours is wounded. I sent Winger and Moose down there with the van.”
“Who got hit?”
“Trigger,” Levi responded.
Shit. I nodded. “Okay. Seton, climb off.” She scrambled off the bike and almost fell to the ground. Levi caught her as she stumbled. I got off and took her from him, gathering her into my arms. She was trembling like a leaf.
“Seton,” I said gently, lifting her chin. “I’m going to take you inside. You’ll wait here. Levi and I are going down there.”
She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered.
I nodded to Levi to stay there. “Back in a second,” I said.
I led Seton inside. Repo’s old lady was there, as well as a few of the club whores. “This is Seton,” I said to them. “She’s with me. You ladies take care of her. One of the prospects is her brother.”
Jules, Repo’s old lady, nodded. “Come on, honey. You and me’ll wait together. My man’s there, too.”
Seton allowed herself to be led over to an area with a bunch of couches. I leaned in to Jules and murmured, “We’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”
She nodded and put her hand over mine. “I know you will,” she said with a tremulous smile.
Levi was already on his bike when I got back outside. He nodded toward the clubhouse. “That new?” he asked, meaning Seton.
“Yeah.” I straddled the bike. “She’s Cal’s sister.”
His eyes widened. “Nice rack,” he said simply. I had to laugh.
“Come on, brother,” I replied grimly. “Let’s do this.”
We got to Maisie’s about twenty minutes later. Yellow police tape cordoned off the scene. Bullet holes riddled the front of the diner, and paramedics were attending to some of the less wounded people who looked like they had been injured by shattered glass.
We scanned the crowd for familiar faces, avoiding the police officers who were staring at us with a range of curiosity to outright hostility. Levi nudged me and pointed to Repo, who was coming toward us. He had a large gash on his forehead that looked to be from flying glass, but looked to be otherwise okay.
He lifted his
chin at us. I strode forward, Levi close behind me, and clapped Repo on the shoulder. “Good to see you, brother. What happened?”
His face was a stony mask. “Fucking assholes with semi-automatics mowed down the place.” He looked back toward the restaurant. “Couple civilians are probably gonna be in critical condition, maybe worse.”
Goddamnit. The Stone Kings tried hard as hell to keep our business away from the community. “Any idea who it was?”
“Not sure. A witness said the gunfire came from a dark-colored van. Sped through the parking lot, sprayed the place with bullets, then drove away.” His face registered a look of disgust. “Our bikes are fucking torched, though, so it’s pretty clear we were the targets. None of them are drivable.”
“What about the brothers?” Levi cut in.
“Minor injuries. Trigger took the worst of it, a bullet to the leg. Winger and Moose came and got them all with the van, took Trig to see our doc to get patched up.”
I breathed a sigh of relief that Cal and the other prospect were okay, and that Trigger wouldn’t have to go to the hospital. The less contact we had with the authorities on this, the better. The Stone Kings would settle this on our own terms, once we figured out who was responsible.
“Who else was with you guys?” I queried.
“It was me and Trig and the two prospects,” Repo answered. “We got back from the run last night and ended up partying all night at the clubhouse. The prospects are pretty all right, by the way,” he grinned. High praise coming from Repo, who was notoriously tough on hangarounds and prospects. “This morning we were pretty raw, so we decided to come out to Maisie’s for a hangover special.”
“You figure this was the Cannibals?” I asked Levi. “Payback for our run into their territory yesterday?”
“They’re fuckin’ lunatics, if it was,” he spit out. “Why the hell would they let us pass through with no reaction, and then come try to mow us down in our territory later?”
“Lunatics, or cowards,” I muttered. Word was that the Cannibals had just voted in a new president after the old one had been killed in a shootout with a rival MC. The new prez’s name was Skull, and I didn’t know much about him. If this was the Cannibals, it didn’t bode well for our future relationship with them, and meant that our territory was in danger of being compromised. Ultimately, this could end up in a war between the two clubs unless something could be done to prevent it. But if this was essentially a shot across the bow from them, it was a pretty clear indication that they didn’t intend to be reasonable. I briefly wondered if their new president had some sort of death wish.
RIDE (A Stone Kings Motorcycle Club Romance) Page 29