GABRIEL’S BABY: Iron Kings MC

by Evelyn Glass

  “I have a swimsuit for you,” she said.

  “Great.”

  “Is that all you have for breakfast?” She nodded toward his coffee cup.

  “Only way to start the day.”

  “You should at least have some more fruit.” She reached for a banana in the fruit bowl, and then handed it to him. “Your body needs it.”

  He squinted at her, like maybe she’d suddenly started speaking a different language. “How do you know what my body needs?”

  “It’s science, tough guy.” She rolled her eyes, adding the banana to the bag. For when he changed his mind or softened up later. “You can’t survive on booze and black coffee alone.”

  “Maybe you can’t,” he muttered, sipping his coffee.

  She hid her grin, scooping up an extra pear and banana just in case. Then she plopped down in the chair next to him. “I’m ready when you are. I grabbed a pair of trunks for you, and a towel.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “And don’t worry, there’s enough sunscreen to share. We can do each other’s backs.” She nudged him with her shoulder.

  He grunted, but she swore there was a glimmer of a smile on his face. He drained his coffee and set the mug in the sink. “Let’s go.”

  She slung her bag over her shoulder, following him out of the kitchen and toward the front door. A few curious eyes flitted their way. Maybe wondering what the two of them might be up to so early. On Saturday after a party, anything before 2 p.m. was considered ‘early’.

  Outside, the sun beat down bright and hot—perfect for tanning. She grinned, sliding sunglasses down her nose, strutting behind Butch. This was a genius idea.

  When he got to his bike, he lifted a brow. “Aren’t you goin’ on yours?”

  She shook her head. “Let’s just ride together.” She lifted the lid of his back storage, shoving the bag inside. Once he put his helmet on he swung his leg over the bike and she followed suit, pressing herself up against him. The scent of soap reached her, and she fought the urge to bury her face in his back.

  The motorcycle roared to life and he popped the kickstand. She wrapped her arms around his waist, inching forward so that as much of her pressed against him as possible. She bucked her hips ever so slightly, desperate to feel the curve of him between her legs. Butch felt too good in her arms.

  He backed the bike out of the spot and then a moment later they roared away. Wind enveloped them as they blazed down the main street. She leaned her forehead against his bike, relishing the feel of him between her thighs, the heat of the air, the day ahead of them, and smiled to herself.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Butch sat on the edge of the lounge chair in the far corner, surveying the bright and clamorous scene before him. Gidget had brought them to some sort of yacht club pool, filled with busty, elegant beauties that slunk around like models. Gidget seemed to know almost everyone here, too. No way she had a membership to this place though.

  Questions burned inside of him, but he forced them to fizzle under the clench of his mind. He didn’t need to be getting to know her, or anything about her life. He’d do well to remember that, too.

  If anyone stood out like a sore thumb at this place, it was him. But this was a job, and he could give a shit what anybody thought of him, anyway. Still, it was sorta nice to shake up the routine with this place. At least it wasn’t full of squawking kids and pool fights.

  “Aren’t you gonna change into your trunks?”

  The sound of Gidget’s voice yanked him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see her sauntering toward the empty lounge chair next to him. She’s changed into a strappy, black thing that looked like it was designed purely to tempt—it would probably disintegrate the second it touched water. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t form words while he gobbled up her slender curves, her taut, tanned belly, the jut of her hips.

  “You must be roasting,” she added, sitting onto the chair next to him. “I promise, it’s okay to get in. You’re allowed.”

  He ran his thumb over the tops of his knuckles, studying the pool. It was shaped like a pearl drop earring. The water shimmered crystalline. “Yeah. Okay.”

  She grinned, pulling a bottle out of her bag. “When you get back, can you do me?”

  It took him a second to register what she was referring to. The only thought in his head was YES. She waggled a bottle of bronzer in the air.

  “Sure.” He grabbed the trunks out of the bag and headed for the men’s changing room. Women lounging on chairs remained impassive while he walked by, but he felt gazes burning on him, hidden behind dark sunglasses.

  The changing room was thankfully empty. Barely any men at the club made him feel a little bit like Gidget’s pet, but in a way he was thankful for the drastic change of scenery. Proof that just a few days out of prison could change life in the strangest of ways.

  He tore off his clothes, pulling on the long black trunks. At least they were black. That made up for the embarrassment of having to wear his friend’s bathing suit. He checked himself out in the mirror before he left. Yep, definitely the only guy in the club with a back, neck, and arms full of tattoos.

  He brought his clothes and boots back to their lounge area in the corner. It was partially hidden behind a cluster of bushes, which was nice. He didn’t like so many hoity-toity eyes on him.

  “Wow.” Gidget lowered her glasses as he approached. He tossed his clothes on the cement between the chairs.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She grinned mysteriously, pushing her sunglasses up on her nose. “You must work out.”

  He scratched at his shoulder, looking out toward the pool. “Yeah, so?”

  She tutted. “Man, is this how everyone gets when they’re fresh out of prison? Can’t even compliment a man.”

  Butch sat back on the chair, regret rippling through him But he didn’t have a choice. He had to be a hard ass with her…or else it might go somewhere it shouldn’t. Not like he could explain that to her.

  “I’ll take the compliment.” He grabbed the bottle of lotion from the chair next to her, more than ready to perform this job. Shit, he’d been having wet dreams about just this task since he met her. “Now turn around.”

  She swiveled on the lounge chair, facing away from him, back rounded to receive the lotion. He squeezed a spurt into his palm and rubbed it over her smooth, sun kissed back. She was warm to the touch, and softer than he could have ever imagined. His cock twitched in the trunks, and he focused hard to keep the situation from becoming embarrassing. If only this club was empty, and he could have his way with her in the pool…

  “Mmm. You make it like a massage.” Her voice sounded distant and sultry.

  He bit back a grin, squirting a little more into his palm. He worked his way down the dip in her waist, to the edge of her black bottoms. Once he’d finished her back, he had to stop himself from continuing on.

  “Thanks, Butch.” She turned to face him, a lazy smile on her face. “Wanna do my front?”

  He steeled his jaw. Hell yeah he wanted to do her front.

  “You can’t get it?”

  She pouted a little and shook her head. “Please?”

  He watched her for a moment, his willpower wavering. God damn, it would be nice to touch her. Just this once. To get it out of his system. He snatched up the lotion again and squirted more into his palm.

  “Thanks, Butch.” She practically purred like a cat as he smoothed the caramel cream up and down her arms, over the small rounds of her shoulders, down the front of her chest. Her breathing picked up as he smoothed his hands dangerously close to her cleavage. He gritted his teeth, willing himself not to take a luscious handful of those breasts. They were practically spilling out of her top. His cock stiffened in his trunks.

  “Mmmm.” Her head lolled to the side as he moved down to her waist, over the dip of her hips. And then she propped up her legs onto his chair, urging him further.

  He paused, lapping up her long, le
an legs with his eyes. Could he make it through this alive? Or at least without dragging her behind the bushes to fuck? He took a deep breath and then oiled up her thighs, making long, languorous, thorough motions. This was heaven, if only he could look over the hellish aftermath—that he couldn’t have his way with her immediately.

  “God, Butch.” Her head dropped back and she let a throaty laugh that almost destroyed him. “Can you do this all the time?”

  He paused, taking in her carefree pose, the delighted smile on her face, her lithe frame that he craved with every cell in his body.

  “If the job calls for it,” he said, capping the lotion. That was the only rebuttal he had after massaging almost every square inch of her body. Like he could be expected to think rationally for a while.

  She stowed the lotion, lowering her glasses to look at him. Her blue eyes zapped him to attention. “Thanks, Butch. You want me to do you?”

  He scratched at the back of his neck. If she touched him, the last shred of his willpower might snap. Audience be damned. “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Oh, come on. You at least need sunscreen.” She rummaged through her bag, and then pulled out a bright blue bottle. “Here. Just a little on your shoulders.”

  He opened his mouth to object but suddenly she was behind him, squirting the white cream into her palms. She smoothed the cool sunscreen over his shoulders, and her touch made him relax. He hadn’t even realized he’d been tense. Her feather light touch was calming in a way he hadn’t experienced maybe ever.

  He kept his breaths measured as she lathered up his back. Then she came around front, grinning like she knew a secret.

  “We should do the front, too, you know.” She added another dollop of sunscreen to her hand. “At least to protect all these tattoos.”

  She worked his arms, up and down, while his gaze riveted hopelessly on the heavy curve of her breast. She was just inches away, and all he could imagine was tugging her top down and taking one rosy nipple into his mouth, suckling on it until she squealed. Then he’d skip kisses down her belly, nuzzle the sweet heat between those impossibly tan legs.

  He cleared his throat and leaned back when she pushed on his shoulders. She smoothed her hands across his chest, over the ridges of his abs. Her brow arched as she reached the waistband of his shorts—maybe she’d picked up on the pronounced bulge there.

  “I think that’ll do it,” she said softly, dragging a finger along the waistband of his trunks. His skin prickled where she touched. Cock twitching, he gritted his teeth against the urge to grab her wrist, to bring her down on top of him. To let her feel exactly what she did to him.

  He turned away gruffly, then pushed up off the chair. “You want anything to drink?” He jerked his head toward the bar at the far end of the pool, by the hot tubs. He needed the break, to clear his mind, to get rid of the threatening hard-on that would embarrass him to hell and back.

  “I’m good,” she said, settling back onto her chair. “I’ll just wait for you here.”

  She pinched her lips into a curious little smile and he walked away, unable to think of anything but the prickles of desire coursing through him.

  God damnit, Gidget. If this was her game, she was playing it all too well. And even Butch doubted his ability to keep his distance when this was what he was facing.

  A couple hours later, after three ice-cold beers and plenty of solo laps around the pool, Butch saw Gidget finally approach the edge of the pool.

  “How come you’re not burnt to hell?” He splashed water toward her feet.

  “I’m a seasoned veteran when it comes to tanning,” she said haughtily, easing down to sit on the edge of the pool. “But I’m ready to dip in now. I’ve reached my limit.”

  Butch had been horsing around on and off now for at least an hour. He’d started to prune, but like hell he’d pass up his chance to harass Gidget in the pool.

  “About time.” He tread water as she slipped in hesitantly, easing in ever so slowly. Her breath came out in shuddery waves as she acclimated to the water.

  “Oh, come on. It’s bath water.” He sent a warning splash her way. He’d dunk her in a few seconds, but she didn’t need to know that yet.

  “It’s cold,” she said.

  “Pfff.” He flipped onto his back and floated for a minute while she pussy-footed her way into the pool. She tugged her hair into a loose bun on the top of her head and then drizzled droplets of water over her arms.

  Butch came back to standing, eying her like he was her prey. “That’s not how you do it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He grinned and then swept her up into his arms, carrying her like a baby. She squealed, kicking her legs.

  “Don’t you dare throw me!” Her voice was full of warning but there was glee in her eyes. It radiated off of her.

  “Now, why would I do that?” He rocked her back and forth, like lulling her into a false sense of security. Of course he was going to throw her. As far and high as he could. It was the only way.

  “Butch,” she warned through laughter. “I swear to God.”

  He waited for a moment to fake her out, and then he launched her easily into the air. She screamed as she soared through the air, and then connected with the water in an impressive splash. Butch crossed his arms, pleased with his work.

  When she resurfaced, she sputtered through laughter. “I can’t fucking believe you did that.”

  “You brought me to the pool,” he said, swimming circles around her. “Your fault.”

  She smoothed her damp hair away from her face, coughing a little. “I should have known better.”

  He splashed water toward her, which made her squeal again. God, it was too easy.

  “Stop it,” she said.

  “Nope.” He splashed her again, and then again. She broke down into laughter, and finally splashed him back.

  “There you go.” He sent a big wave of water her way, pleased when she returned it.

  She laughed through another wave of water, then sunk back into the pool. She bobbed, just a head, at the surface, her eyes sparkling as she took him in.

  Butch ran a hand through his short hair, water spraying in all directions as he did. Something about that gaze unnerved him…but in a good way. He liked it when she looked at him like that. Made him think she actually saw him, for more than just…a loser convict, another brother to tease, a man to harass. Made him think she thought of him as a person.

  “This was a good idea, right?”

  He slapped his hand against the water. Swimming around today had helped him loosen up more than what he’d been able to achieve in years. It was fucking therapy. “Yeah. It was.”

  She grinned at him and then dove under the water, the curve of her ass stealing his breath.

  It was a good idea in that was…but a horrible idea when it came to keeping himself uninterested and distant.

  Turns out, Gidget was easy to fall for. Exactly what he didn’t need to find out.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Days turned into weeks with Butch at her side. They fell into an easy rhythm, one that Gidget came to enjoy and look forward to. Having him around felt more like having a friend than having a protector. Besides, now that he’d dropped some of the mean guy act, she was having a good time learning just how soft he really was under there.

  It was the small things he did that drew her in. Like the way he’d secretly eaten that banana she’d packed for him when he thought she wasn’t looking that first day at the pool…or the way she was pretty sure he ate a banana for breakfast every morning since. She didn’t dare bring it up either—that would be a breach of contract somehow. Like looking at this budding relationship in the face might make it disappear entirely.

  She could tell that Butch was into her, which only fueled her sly seduction techniques. She didn’t want to make things weird, she just wanted to make it clear—she wanted him to come onto her, come hell or high water.

  And the longer he resisted, th
e more frustrated she got. He had so many chances. Probably one of the brothers had warned him—that would be so typical. They all acted like her personal guardians sometimes, though she wasn’t sure that her daddy wasn’t behind it too. The young recruits had no problem hitting on her, so maybe it was a secret rule written into the brotherhood pact inside their secret meeting room: do not bang Geo’s daughter under any circumstance. That would just figure.

  It only meant she had to work harder, and not give up. Because at this point, she’d gladly give up all of her side dates for a chance with Butch. Even if it was just one night with him. Hell, she’d barely written back to any of her usual guys since he’d come around. She just didn’t want to with Butch in the picture.