Coletrane (Bad Boys of Retribution MC Book 4)

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Coletrane (Bad Boys of Retribution MC Book 4) Page 8

by Warren, Rie


  “The animal experiment?”

  She laughed as I brought her into my embrace.

  “Because I wanted to get my hands on you,” I said.

  “Again?”

  “Oh yeah. Again.”

  “Not so fast. I’m trying to make breakfast.” She walked to the fridge, waving toward the shelves stocked with all organic food including Tofurky, which really did taste like cardboard. “What’s with all this?”

  “I like to stay clean.” I advanced.

  “But you smoke.” She tracked away from me.

  “Sometimes.” I gained ground.

  “You know you’re kind of a control nut.”

  “Pot. Kettle.” I stalked the last inch and wrapped my arms around her. “Caught.”

  My kiss was intense, my hands roving over her.

  “You’re so damn pretty.” Model pretty.

  Flawless, especially the morning after with her hair hazing around her face and one of my old T-shirts barely covering her ass. An ass I squeezed.

  “Vanilla?” she yelped as my fingers grazed lower.

  “Maybe with a side of wicked.” I walked her up to the counter and planted her on it.

  Tossing her shirt aside, I went down on her, bringing her to a screaming fast orgasm as she fisted my hair.

  Grabbing a condom from the kitchen drawer, I tore it open with my teeth.

  “Screw in the kitchen often, sexy?” Sin waited, her legs spread open, her fingers sliding into her aroused slit.

  “Nope.” I rolled the rubber over my jutting hard cock. “Just like to be prepared.”

  “Prepared is—”

  Gathering her thighs in my hands, I lunged inside her.

  “Gooood! Oh, God!”

  Coffee mugs clattered on the counter, and silverware danced in the drawers when I drove deep inside her. Her legs twined around my waist, and I pulled her to me with my hands on her ass.

  The faster I thrust, the harder she bucked. We ended up with her on her back on the table, the sugar container skittering to the edge as I trapped Sin’s legs up over my shoulders.

  The angle was intense. My strokes deeper. We came with our bodies crashing together, trying to kiss but unable to do anything but moan and groan, grunt and whimper.

  After the morning sex, after we’d eaten bowls of granola and yogurt topped with fresh fruit, I showered with Sin. It was soapy hot heaven, and I’d never been more thankful for the stupid small size of the cubicle. Our bodies pressed together from top to bottom, and it was slippery and tight.

  Around lunchtime, I walked her to her car, her hand clasped in mine. “When am I seeing you again?”

  “Work week starts tomorrow. The Monday grind, you know? I usually go full out, full on.” Buffeted between me and the Trans Am, she kissed my cheek, stroked my chest. “But you did say you’d pierce my nipples.”

  “You still want that?” I growled low in my throat, because I couldn’t wait to do it.

  “Yes,” she hissed as my palms skimmed the sides of her breasts.

  “Not at the shop.” No way. Not with my old gang suddenly sniffing around after so long. “And you have to promise me you’ll stay away from there from now on.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of those guys who tried to rough you up.” I bent my forehead to hers. “My past ain’t pretty.”

  “Okay. I trust you.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t.” I knocked my head back, frowning.

  “After last night, you can say that?”

  “I’m not your type, Sin. You know that.” I stepped away.

  She cocked her hip and wagged a finger in my face. “Maybe you are the right guy for me, and I just never realized what I needed.”

  A feisty woman giving me what-for. I couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Okay.”

  “Okay”—she repeated, fumbling with her keys, muttering—“stubborn fool.”

  As soon as she had the car unlocked, I was right there, helping her inside. “Friday night? Here.”

  “And you’re going to pierce me.” She keyed the ignition and the car thundered to life.

  “That’s not all I’m gonna do to you.” I closed the door, watching as she reversed.

  Sin was probably gonna break my heart.

  But what a fucking way to go.

  Chapter Eight

  THE FOLLOWING WEEK MARCHED by at a slow pace. The deviants from my days of no-good didn’t turn up at Inksanity again. Maybe they weren’t gonna put the squeeze on me after all. I should be so lucky.

  I fucking doubted it with my track record.

  I only received a few random texts from Sin. She was a busy businesswoman, and I totally respected that. In fact, it made her—impossibly—even sexier.

  After that one night with her, it was official. Sin had gotten under my skin. Hell, she’d nearly gotten inside my psyche.

  I’d never reacted to a woman like this before—falling hard, falling fast. I might even be willing to let her take the reins in the bedroom just to see what she’d do to me. And that never happened.

  I needed that one area of control in my life after everything had been shot to shit ten years ago.

  Sin and I had arranged to get together Friday night, and by Thursday evening I was chomping at the bit, blowing off a little steam at Retribution, and as usual getting roped into the rookie work all the other assholes were too lazy to do.

  Kinkaid and I needed to recruit another chump prospect, STAT.

  I was collecting empties and herding them into the overflowing recycling bins outside when Brodie roared up on his Harley Cross Bones night train. He took off his helmet, giving me that devil-wide grin as Tail came out for a cig break.

  “So how’s Sinclair?” The Veep dismounted his bike, goading me per usual.

  “Yeah. She looked like she was ready to give you a lap dance the other night.” Tail, his partner in crime, blew out a long stream of smoke. “Way to bag the rich broad, bro.”

  “I don’t talk about my love life—”

  “What love life?” Brodie interrupted.

  “My sex life, or any other part of my private life—”

  “’Cause you need to get a life!” They continued to hound me like mutts humping a leg while I strolled inside.

  “And you?” I swung on Tail, tempted to let the door slam in the looming, black haired dude’s face. “Don’t call Sin a broad. She’s a lady.”

  “Oooh. Told by the Probie.” Brodie shoved his way past Tail and inside.

  Hunter sat at one of the tables near the entrance. A shit-eating grin plastered his face like he knew just about every detail of my life. He’d obviously heard the last part of the exchange and approved of how I shut Tail down.

  I wasn’t done yet. What was mine was mine, and all the brothers needed to know that.

  Hopping onto the bar, I shredded a whistle between two fingers. “Listen up. Sinclair Chatham is off the table. You can look at her—with respect—and you can talk to her. But you better believe I’ll kick ass if she comes in here and anyone tries to touch her again.”

  Silence met my hands-off declaration, until Brodie began a slow clap. “Holy shit. College here found his balls. And they look pretty damn big.”

  “That’s what she said!” Tail . . . again. But he helped me off the bar with a bro-hug and a slap on my back.

  “Way to lay down the law.” Hunter approached me, a glass held between two of his fingers. “Still think you should consider joining the force.”

  He wouldn’t think that if he knew everything.

  After that, it was business as usual, with Kinkaid sneaking sly glances at me.

  During one quiet lull, he leaned against the bar and looked me dead-on. “Can’t believe she got to you. I tried to warn you.”

  My stern mask dropped and I smiled. “Dude, you have no idea.”

  “Jesus.” He tilted his head to the side. “This is worse than I thought.”

  “Yup. And so damn good I should be thanking Sadie.�
��

  “Well, hell. If you’re happy . . .”

  I swiped a cloth across the bar. “I will be, tomorrow night.”

  “Why? What’s so special about tomorrow night?” The big, cut-from-stone man asked.

  “Well, that ain’t none of your business.”

  I ambled away to the sound of him shouting through his cupped hands, “I still think you’re screwed!”

  “Got that right,” I yelled back.

  In the best possible way.

  ****

  The next evening I picked up Sin downtown. She was waiting outside the gigantic antebellum mansion, waving and walking toward me as soon as I quieted the engine.

  For a moment I wondered if she didn’t want me to meet her parents. She could’ve waited inside and invited me in. But her smile was so bright I let it go.

  Besides, she looked slamming. So all my brain function went south. It was the second week of August and even though the sun had set, heat rippled the air, and Sin looked like her skin soaked in the sultry atmosphere.

  I didn’t even know what to call the outfit she wore, but I approved. It was some kind of all-in-one combo comprised of short-shorts and a tube top.

  Hot.

  She’d also planned ahead and had an overnight bag in her hand.

  Hell yes.

  “Hey, precious.” I stood as she approached, ready for a kiss.

  “Hey, sexy.” Reaching me, she grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me in.

  I cupped the back of her neck, angled her face, and the wet, slick, hot ride began.

  Her tits rubbed against me, the nipples I’d be piercing later pressing against the thin barrier of my button-down shirt.

  Breaking the kiss, I looked down at her high beams. “Jesus, woman. Do you ever wear a bra? Not that I’m complaining.”

  Hell no.

  Sin pushed her breasts up beneath her hands, skimming the tight peaks against my chest again as her sweet face took on a sexy pout. “I thought the whole point was you piercing these.”

  The woman suddenly knew she had absolute game with me.

  “Unless you want me to start sucking on them right here in front of your folks’ house, you better stop teasing me.” I kissed her again, a quick peck, because I wasn’t kidding about getting too carried away. “Thought we’d have dinner first.”

  She patted my face and stepped back. “Sounds good.”

  I rode her over to Sullivan’s Island and Poe’s Tavern. The little cedar-shingled bar was always bursting at the seams—the small beachside dining room on a Friday night was packed to capacity.

  We managed to snag a table outside, and as dusk fell to darkness, we chowed on the juiciest burgers and best hand cut French fries this side of the Cooper River.

  Sin asked about me becoming a tattoo artist.

  I asked her about being a philanthropist.

  The dichotomy couldn’t be more startling, but we seriously worked together. The attraction between us built until the need to get our hands on each other arced between us. After dinner accompanied by a couple glasses of local brewed beer, I helped her from her chair.

  Shit, my hands almost shook as I pulled out a few bills to pay the check.

  The sound of the crashing surf, the whistling breeze, the loud-ass crickets kept time with our fast walk back to my Night Rod.

  Just like the first time I had her on my bike, she felt like perfection wrapped around me. I wondered if the feel of the bitchin’ pipes rumbling beneath her—between her legs—turned her on, made her wet. I’d have to ask her.

  Mt. Pleasant and my apartment was just a hop, skip, and a thrill ride across one swing bridge and down a few boulevards, and Sin curled against me the whole way.

  I got her safely to my place, upstairs and inside.

  “Hang on. Just let me feed the mutant cat and give it some water.” True to form, Pincushion had started the ear-shattering meow as soon as I’d walked in and hit the lights.

  I scooped the little fucker in my arms and made my way to the kitchen.

  Sin yelled after me, “I know you really love that cat. You’re not fooling me, Cole!”

  “Believe what you want.” I rubbed Pincushion’s forehead as she nuzzled my chin. “You’re really a pain in my ass, you know that?” I whispered to the purring feline.

  Fed and watered, Pin swished her tail back and forth in happiness, and I returned to the living room.

  Standing in the archway, I rubbed my hands together. “Are you ready to get this thing started?”

  Hell yeah I was eager.

  “Do you think we could talk first?” Sin dropped onto the couch and I sat right next to her.

  “Talk? What is this talking thing you speak of?” I flipped her on her back, quickly tackling her. “I planned on ripping off all your clothes, piercing your nipples, then fucking you speechless.”

  Her hands coasted to my hips, and she pulled to her. Light green and oh so coy, her eyes peeked up at me. “Well, you are very intimidating-looking.”

  I squinted at her.

  “And big. Really big.” She licked her lips and breathed out. “And very, very sexy.” After dragging her fingers through my hair—I almost purred like Pincushion at the sensation—she drew soft fingertips down my face to my lips. “Thick dark hair, and so soft stubble.” She rubbed my jaw. “And your eyes . . . so blue. They’re captivating.”

  Huh. I was beginning to like this line of conversation. Go figure.

  I was also liking the way she started slowly undulating against me. This woman was so hot for it I was surprised she hadn’t started a fire in my pants yet.

  “Mmm. Anything else?” Dipping my head, I licked along her neck, one side then the other.

  Her hips gyrated again. “Also a gentleman. Caring. Comforting.”

  I growled against her lips. “Don’t let anyone else in on that, precious.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  And I hoped to keep it that way with all the secrets I was really hiding.

  “Let me ask you something,” I pinned her arms beside her head, doing a little bump and grind of my own.

  “Shoot.”

  “Are you an only child?” I snuck my tongue to the dip of her collarbone.

  “Ohhh. Yes.”

  “Oh, yes, you’re an only child, or oh, yes, keeping doing this?” Coiling above her, I sucked on the sweet spot again.

  “Both!” Her body writhed beneath me.

  I let her go and scooted back. “Figures.” I smirked.

  “You miserable son of a bitch!” She tossed a cushion at my face.

  One I effortlessly batted away.

  With a renewed grin, I attacked, tickling her sides, working my hands up her ribs. “Spoiled. Rich . . .”

  Sin fought right back, her platinum blonde hair shivering in my face when she leaped into my lap and hooked her arms around my neck. “And also a very successful businesswoman, don’t forget.”

  My palms skimmed up her thighs. “Couldn’t forget that. The whole package.”

  “What about you? What happened to your sister? Where are your parents? You don’t talk about them.”

  And this was when I usually shut down and closed off.

  I wanted to be serious about Sin. I wanted to be with her like no other woman.

  Maybe I could tell her some truths. Things even my Retribution brethren didn’t know.

  Crashing my head back against the couch, I closed my eyes, the never-diminishing guilt eating at me from the inside out.

  “I’m sorry.” Sin’s fingertips lightly slid down my chest. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’d imagine it’s a sore spot.”

  She gathered my hands in hers.

  “Yeah.” My lips twisted. My voice curdled. “You could say that.”

  All the breath knocked out my chest, a chest so suddenly, so tightly squeezed I had to take a few seconds. “You’re not gonna like this about me, precious.”

  “What is it?” She
kissed my knuckles and eased off my lap.

  I scooted forward, cushioning my head in my hands. “My mom brought us up, me and my sis, Brooke. We never lived the high life, but she did her best. She was a good mom.”

  One of the best. Man, she’d worked hard to do things right for us. She made every outing fun, didn’t matter if it was just a trip to the grocery store when she let us choose—once in a while—the package filled with small boxes of sugary cereal because that was the only way she could afford spoiling us.

  “We had it hard, but we didn’t dwell on it. The best times were spent on the creek. Shrimping with a net when the sky turned from blue to yellow to the softest pink. We’d haul up the net, take our catch home, fry it up out back, behind the trailer.”

  Sitting here, spilling my guts to Sin, I was reminded of the difference in our backgrounds, hell, even in our futures.

  “Brooke was two years older than me. And I guess we got started when we realized how rough life was for our mom. The long hours, cleaning houses and offices, so she could take care of us. Then she got hurt, bad, on a job. Couldn’t work. There was this insurance payout they promised, always in the future. She called it her windfall from falling. But it took too long.” I sniffed, not surprised my eyes were wet. “Brooke was seventeen, I was fifteen. We hooked up with some bad kids. Street kids.”

  “Those guys at Inksanity?”

  “Yeah. Those guys.” I stood up and began pacing. “At first it was about looting, grifting. Stealing shit so we could sell it off. I can’t believe I’d ever felt proud about that, slapping a wad of cash on the kitchen table.

  “We told Mom the money came from odd jobs. Odd jobs all right.” I pressed my fingers against my temples. “Then the drugs came into it. Meth. I told Brooke not to do it, but she wouldn’t listen . . . life was too hard . . . Curtis convinced her to give it a shot.”

  “Jesus Christ, Cole!”

  My head whipped around, my face a broken plane of features. “You want to leave now? Because I can take you home.”

  To her safe haven, one I hadn’t known for a long time, and I wouldn’t begrudge her one little bit.

  “No. No.” Sin moved toward me, slipping her arms around me.

  “Please don’t. Don’t touch me. I can’t—”

 

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