Protect

by C. D. Breadner

  That was faith.

  She sought out Fritter. He was pointing with his pool cue, standing next to her son. Giving pointers, no doubt. Then when Brayden stooped to line up his shot, Fritter used his cue to tip the kids’ downward just as he was in motion. He scratched the shot, looked surprised, and Fritter was laughing while he gave Brayden’s shoulder a friendly jolt. Spaz and Tiny also cut up, and then her son did, too. With a slightly redder face but none the worse.

  Yes, she had that kind of faith.

  “I understand. And this isn’t just because I’m losing the election,” she said for clarification. “I have no idea how this would have played out if it wasn’t for the election when the club found out—and I’m sure I expected the club to find out somehow anyway. You asked me why I was fighting this so hard, and my job was why. I’ll admit that now. It was never that he wasn’t enough. I knew it was bad but I kept going back.”

  “I’m sorry he took advantage,” Jayce teased.

  She had to laugh. “Don’t be fooled. I started the whole thing. All he did was respond to my calls.” The she frowned. “He hasn’t told you that?”

  Jayce looked just a bit surprised. “No, he hasn’t told us anything.”

  “Oh.”

  “Little secret.” Jayce leaned in, motioning for her to do the same. “Men don’t talk about the women they like that way. They keep private shit private, if she’s a keeper.”

  “I understand.”

  “That being said, he knows about us.”

  Her eyes got big. “What?”

  “Tiny kinda spilled it. He’s the only one that knew.”

  With a nervous glance around she wet her lips.

  “I didn’t go into details, just confirmed it. And then Fritter beat my ass down.”

  “What?”

  The Red Rebels President leaned back, chucking. “Don’t look so shocked.”

  “I thought most would have found out when I became Sheriff. Thought that might have made for hilarious locker talk.”

  Jayce shook his head. “Nah. You may not be my woman, but you’re also not the type that a guy fucks then tells his buddies about like it’s a sport.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Not really. But thank you.”

  “And to tell the truth, I was pretty wasted. I honestly don’t remember too much.”

  Ouch. Well, maybe that was for the best. “Yeah,” she said slowly, looking away. She remembered. Of course she did. Yeah, it was definitely for the best. “So, anyway. This meet. When’s it set for?”

  Now he grinned. “Nah, not giving you a heads’ up. Sorry. No offense. Just let your brothers in blue know that two MC clubs in town at the same time, at any time in the next week, they should maybe just stay out of it. Could get more than just us hurt, if not at the time definitely after. Word gets out we set them up with the law...” He shrugged and let that trail off.

  That was more trust than she’d expected, actually. So she tried to show she was worth it by nodding and saying, “We actually wear khaki and brown, not blue. You have us confused with a municipal police force.”

  He laughed and pushed to his feet. “Okay, five-oh.”

  “Not funny,” she called after him. Across from her, her mother was smiling at her while Buck and Gertie fussed over Davie.

  At her look her mother got to her feet and took the place Jayce had just left, sighing and giving the room a curious scan. “We’re surrounded by criminals, aren’t we?” she asked, dismay obvious. Her quiet tone made Sharon giggle.

  “Yeah Mom. Can’t you tell just by looking?”

  Tank and Rose returned from the grill, Tank holding a huge plate of flambéed meat. Rose was carrying a bowl of foil wrapped potatoes. Before they parted to set their loads on opposite sides of the buffet table they paused to kiss. Spaz gave Brayden a high-five after he sank a shot, and Fritter toasted him with his beer bottle for making it. Tiny ruffled his hair, one of the few in the room large enough to make Brayden look like a child.

  And Buck took Davie from Gertie, resting him on his chest with his little knitted-capped head resting under his chin. Gertie got to her feet and bent down to kiss her husband before heading for the restrooms. Her brother brought a cry of outrage from Knuckles, something to do with Suzuki being made for closet homosexuals. Even her father looked comically ashamed for his son’s love of crotch rocket street bikes. Scott still had the Harley they’d originally built, but he liked to go really fast now.

  “If it wasn’t for those vests they’re wearing, I’d never guess,” her mother slowly replied.

  Sharon didn’t correct her mother on the correct term for leather kuttes, she just took a sip of her iced green tea.

  “He kept us out of your room at the hospital. The doctors said you needed your rest, and he thought we’d bother your sleep. It was a little scary.”

  Sharon looked to her ... boyfriend? Lover? Man? He caught her glance and gave her a wink with that smile that only handsome men seemed to have. She smiled back.

  “He’ll take care of me. I know he will.”

  “I don’t know, Sharon. Your job, your livelihood. What’s he given up to be with you?”

  Sharon shook her head. “It’s not about keeping score over who’s the bigger martyr. I was lonely, Mom. And I know being with someone isn’t the point of living, but ... he makes me happy that I’m living. Without knowing it, I was looking for someone to smash in the walls of whatever the fuck I was living in.”

  Her mother nodded, not even shocked by the cuss word.

  “I like helping people. That’s why I liked my job. But plenty of people help people without being in law enforcement.”

  “But your schooling—”

  “Set me up for a good career,” she cut in, nodding. “Sure. It got me here. But a change could be good, too. And Markham is home, Mom. You know that.”

  Her mother put an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll always be proud of you, Sharon.”

  Her throat closed up and she blinked to not cry. “Even knocked up at forty-four and unmarried?”

  “Yes,” was the simple answer.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  It was barely light out when Fritter woke her. He could have let her sleep another half hour, but ...

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he got out the opposite side of the bed in his dorm.

  “It’s today, baby. We gotta get going.”

  She sat up. “This early?”

  “Nah, the meeting’s at 8am. They want to fortify the clubhouse around 6.”

  She looked at the clock, still sleepy and cute. “Mark, it’s 4:30 in the morning.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why am I up at 4:30?”

  “Because I want to fuck you in the shower before I go.”

  Watching her go from sleepy and annoyed to turned on made him chuckle. “Oh.”

  He walked into the bathroom, flicking on the light and getting the water running. She followed, wearing his T-shirt and looking a bit uncertain. “Are we going to talk about this?” she asked, fingers playing with the shirt’s hem.

  “Nope,” he replied, taking that hem from her and tugging the shirt up over her head and off.

  “But—”

  He cut her off with his mouth, and it was a split second before her arms went around his neck. They’d been staying in the clubhouse dorms for just under a week, and he was more than pleased that she was as comfortable here as she was in her home. Her own place was still taped off, the bedroom torched and the rest of it a crime scene.

  He turned so that she could step over the edge of the tub. Once they were both enclosed behind the shower curtain Fritter cranked the showerhead on, taking the first shot of cold to his back. He hissed, but it did nothing to kill his erection.

  That might have been because Sharon had it in her hand, pressing her breasts into his chest and going up on her toes to kiss him.

  One hand closed in her hair at the
back of her head, the other clutched at one amazing ass cheek, pulling her entire body against his. Her grip tightened on his cock, and even though she had to stop stroking it he groaned. Her mouth surrendered to his, allowing his tongue to plunder while giving long, tender strokes. Then she backed off, and with slow motions she went down to her knees, hands dragging down his chest and abdomen.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, voice husky. The sight of her staring up at him, his cock jutting out, held tight in one of her hands, breast peaked outward—it made talking difficult.

  “I think you know.”

  “Are you sure you can do that? With your jaw?”

  The first touch of her tongue made him clench his teeth. She went right for the sensitive notch under the head, giving it far more attention than he deserved. Then she pulled him into her mouth, perfect suction making his hips jerk. His hands went to her hair, and he fought not to slam into her mouth. But holy fuck that felt good.

  So much for worry about her jaw.

  Her hand was wrapped around his base, preventing him from thrusting too deep. But she let him move her head a little, using her hair with both hands.

  “Fuck, Sharon, Fuck.”

  She gave a little moan.

  “I’m going to finish if you don’t stop.”

  She paid him no notice. When he was at the end of his control he pulled free, and she looked up at him in surprise. On a growl he pulled her up by the arms, turned her back to him and wrapped her in his arms. One hand pulled at one of her perfect, hard nipples, and the other slid over hot, slick skin to a warmer place between her legs.

  “Fritter!”

  “Right here, baby.”

  “Oh, God. Don’t stop.”

  He smiled, face to the side of her neck, kissing and sucking and nipping at her. “Baby, you feel how wet you are?”

  She shuddered as an answer.

  “No way I’m stopping.’” His cock was resting against her ass cheek, and he knew he was shoving at her a little. A gentle push of his hips that she leaned back into, her head going all the way back to his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  She pushed back against him again, the motion moving her on his hand, too. With one hand she reached behind herself, fitting her hand around him, thumb playing over his head as she rocked against his body and he fucked her with two fingers. But if this was to be the last time—

  Nope. Not going there, but he did want to taste her. Especially if this was going to be it. He pulled his hand free and smiled at the protesting grunt she gave, until she realized he was sinking to his knees. Both hands went to her stomach, and though he honestly didn’t think she looked different she certainly felt different there. She said some of her pants wouldn’t do up anymore, and the thought that his baby was in there was absolutely amazing. He kissed the skin under her belly button and she threaded her fingers through his hair, smiling down when he cast his eyes up at her. Jesus, she was gorgeous. He needed to memorize her.

  With knees braced a stable distance apart, Fritter pulled one of her legs over his shoulder, squeezing at the muscle of her thigh as he dove in with his tongue. One hand went up to her breast, teasing her nipple, and her hands tightened in his hair to hold him close.

  With just his teeth, tongue and lips he earned a soft squeak that still managed to echo off the shower walls. With control that impressed even him, Fritter rose to move the shower curtain out of the way and reached for a condom from the toilet tank. It was the end of a strip he’d left out the night before. They’d had a little fun on the bathroom vanity.

  With her arms and legs wrapped around him, one hand bracing himself against the shower wall, he made love to her slow and easy, mouth on hers the whole time. It was still such a treat that she let him kiss her.

  More than the fact that he always woke up hard next to her, this was absolutely necessary given what the day was bringing. He told himself he’d be back, he’d have her back in his arms and on his cock again that night, but there were no guarantees. The meet with the Dirty Rats was going down later that morning, and they were an unpredictable bunch of assholes.

  So right now she needed to know how he felt, even if he couldn’t say it. He had to show her that he was, indeed, falling in love with her. Because what else could this possibly be? He wouldn’t say it; he knew she wouldn’t want to hear that yet. But he could show her that this was real, he meant what he said when he told her he cared and that he’d be there for her and the baby. Only extreme circumstances would prevent that.

  When she was cresting her head fell back to the shower wall, teeth deep in her lower lip. He kept his eyes on hers, feeling the urgency of each push of her hips against his. He was buried deep but he ground into her to find more, and she flew apart with an arched back, mouth open but silent, until that squeak came again and she trembled all around him.

  “Fuck, baby.”

  “Fritter,” she gasped, head falling forward to his shoulder.

  “I don’t know if I can do that again. You got me too worked up.”

  She was smiling when she pulled back, her heels jolting into his ass one time. “Try anyway.”

  Gentleness would take too long. With a grunt he thrust into her, making her hiss and bury her face into the side of his neck. Then she just held on as he pushed his way into her over and over, roughly, fast with no real rhythm, just concentrating on the way she gasped and whimpered and dug her teeth into his shoulder.

  That did it, right there. She was coming hard after all, and he tumbled over the edge with her, the root of him grinding into her clit, making her jump in his hold and throw her head back. No squeak, not this time. He got a completely off-guard cry, one that made him wonder if he’d hurt her. But when she opened her eyes her face was soft, fuck-drunk, and she smiled just a little.

  “I guess I could do that again,” he panted, heart ramming in his rib cage.

  “Let me down,” she whispered. “This can’t be good for your back.”

  Fritter smiled, ducked low to pull free then held her hips while her feet found the floor of the tub again. She slid to the side a bit and he caught her, chuckling. “You alright, baby?”

  She swatted his chest lightly. “I’m fine. Just woke up is all.”

  With another laugh he got rid of the condom, tossed it towards the trash can in the bathroom then joined her back in the warm confines of the shower. He took great care soaping her up, especially her growing tits, rubbing circles on her belly, and massaging her ass cheeks for good measure, too. He was worried she carried her tension in her ass.

  That just made her laugh, and she took the same care washing him. Her hands were a soft touch over his chest, fingers tracing his ink, until they stopped on a line he’d had done just below his left pec. It was a line he’d always liked.

  “Rage, rage, rage against the light,” she whispered, looking up to him again. “I love that poem.”

  He smiled, cupping her face in his hands. “Me too, baby. That’s why you’re reading it off my skin.”

  Her face changed, and he didn’t know the expression. “Don’t get hurt. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  He swallowed, but nodded. “You got it.”

  “Come back.”

  “Always.”

  Her nails dug into his sides. “I mean it. I just decided I want a life with you.”

  His thumb ran back and forth on her cheek. “It’d take all of hell to keep me away, baby.”

  Only death would yank him away from her. That’s what he meant, and the problem was death could be waiting for him that morning. Or he could croak getting hit by a bus in fifteen years. So could she. No one knew when their time was. Didn’t mean he was going to let her go.

  “I need you to be careful too,” he reminded her. “No heroics. Just take care of you and our son.”

  Her lips twitched. “It could be a girl, you know.”

  “Nope. I know it’s a boy.”

  “Is that right?”

  “So keep your head up,�
� he went on, smile slipping. “You’re not the newcomer to this group. Gertie and Rose need you to look out for them.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  When Jayce told him he wanted Sharon armed at the clubhouse while the meet went down Fritter maybe should have argued. She was pregnant, for fuck’s sake. But the more he thought about it the more he knew his Prez was right. She needed to be of help, providing a service. And with half the Nomads on the clubhouse there was a lot of protection for the old ladies. But no way would Sharon sit back and wait, feeling safe knowing all those men were out there.

  No, she’d demand a gun and wouldn’t budge on that stance until she got one. And he couldn’t bring himself to lock her away like the good silver. She was a fighter. He wouldn’t dream of caging her.

  “Today’s the election, too,” she said quietly, face growing sad. Shit, he hated seeing her sad.

  “I know. We figured the Sheriff’s department might be distracted today.”

  “That’s mean.”

  “And smart.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, tucking her head under his chin. He hugged her tight, the water hitting his back, protecting her from the spray.

  Neither of them said anything as they got ready for the day. Here and there he’d stop to kiss her or squeeze her ass, but no words. At least it made her smile.

  At the clubhouse boards had already been placed over the windows. The gate protecting the lot would be locked of course, but they’d also turn on the juice. The fence was electrified, but they didn’t leave it on for obvious reasons. Today they were assuming anyone not already within the compound was not a friend.

  He left Sharon with Rose and Gertie in the kitchen. Jolene was out in the main room, lounged out on a sofa with a pack of cigarettes. She’d already checked out.