by Avelyn Paige
“You mean you’re staying the night?” she asks, her eyes wide. “Can we have a sleepover? I’ve always wanted to have one.”
“I can’t stay the night—”
“Of course she will,” Eugene answers for me without looking in my direction. He’s smarter than he looks. “I’ll just leave you two ladies to have your fun. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Grabbing his keys and cut from the counter, and heads out the back door. The second it shuts, Natalie gives me a mischievous look.
“Do you like scary movies?”
What did I just agree to?
Judge
Grace, with a tight bun and serious expression, is a beautiful woman. Watching her sleep on my couch with her hair all over the place is breathtaking. She’s stretched out on her back, with one foot resting on the floor. Her mouth is open just a little, but she’s taken her hair down, the loose curls flowing around her sleeping face.
It’s almost two o’clock in the morning though, and there’s no way she’s spending the night on this lumpy ass couch. “Grace,” I whisper, nudging her shoulder.
Nothing.
“Grace.” This time, I say it a little louder, shaking her shoulder.
Still, nothing.
“Darlin’, either you wake up, or I’ll carry your ass up to bed. Your choice.”
Her forehead wrinkles with a frown before her eyelids flutter open. She blinks up at me and her frown deepens. “I’m not getting in your bed.”
She sits up, turning to right herself on the couch, which puts her on the opposite end from where I stand. “Did you just get home?”
I nod. “Alarm went off at a garage we just bought. Nobody there, but a window was broken, so we stuck around to board it up.”
“Who would do that?”
I chuckle. “The Black Hoods have a lot of friends out there, sweetheart, but we have a lot who don’t like us much too. Could’ve been someone who has a beef with us. Could’ve been some punk kids causing shit. We’ll find out.”
She opens her mouth as if to say something, but seems to think better of it. Pushing to her feet, she grabs her jacket and purse off the chair beside her.
“Well, I should get going. It’s late.”
Of course she should. It makes sense that she does. So why do I not want her to leave? “Stay,” I tell her. “Natalie thinks you’re spending the night. She’ll be looking for you when she wakes up.”
Grace gapes at me, that frown reappearing on her forehead. “I can’t sleep here. It wouldn’t be right.”
“I can’t let you go home at this time of night unescorted. That wouldn’t be right.”
Curling her hand into a fist, she props it on her hip. “You’re such a frustrating man.”
“So?”
I can’t help it. I shouldn’t be goading her, but her hair’s a mess, her clothes are disheveled, and her cheeks are still pink from sleep. She looks adorable.
“Goodnight, Eugene.” Pushing past me, she moves toward the front door.
“What about the kids?” I ask as she walks away. “What are you going to do with our case?”
Pausing, she turns. Placing her jacket and purse on a nearby bench, she comes back to sit on the couch. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
What the fuck does she mean, she doesn’t know? “Were you not paying attention when the kids told you their history?”
She purses her lips. “Of course I did.”
“Did you not see how settled in they are here? This is their fucking home, Grace.”
“I know it is. I saw and heard everything you and the kids said and did, and it means the world to me that the three of you trusted me enough to let me in on the truth of your situation. Not many men in your position would do that, I don’t think.”
She’s right. People who live the MC lifestyle are usually a different breed. They don’t follow the same rules as everyone else. They don’t rely on anyone but the people in their club when they need something. And they never go to the authorities. Not for anything.
And in the grand scheme of things, when it comes to these kids, Grace is the authorities. She has the power to allow me to keep them.
“Have a seat,” she says, indicating the chair across from her.
I stare at her for a moment, unaccustomed to being told what to do in my own damn house. But I do it, curious as to what she’s going to say.
“Henry Tucker is a dangerous man, Eugene. I mean, really terrible.” She shivers. “I don’t just mean the stuff in his file, either. I can just feel it in my soul. He can’t get his hands on Kevin and Natalie.”
Finally, something we can agree on.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Honestly, my hands are tied here. Their father has legal rights to them. The judges always rule in favor of the biological parent, and I don’t see why this case would be any different.”
My jaw aches as she speaks, and I have to force myself to relax it.
“There’s no way in hell they’ll ever go with that man. Even if I end up spending twenty-five to life in prison for ripping his throat out with my bare hands, Kevin and Natalie will never end up with him.”
Grace shivers again, and I reach behind her, pulling the fleece blanket down from the back of the couch. Unfolding it, I give it a shake and drape it over her shoulders.
“The only thing I can think of,” she continues, “is for you to apply to become their legal foster parent. That takes a lot of time, and the review process alone can take weeks. Plus, you’d have to attend classes, and DCS will have free rein over the way you run your home for as long as the kids live here. I have a friend who processes the applications. I could call in a favor.”
I chew on that for a moment. “I have a better idea.”
Her face brightens a little.
“You give me everything you know about that fucker who claims to be their father. You give me any details that will help us get the cops off our backs. The club will find their father. He’ll sign those kids over to me, legally, and then he’ll disappear.”
Grace is on her feet in an instant, pacing the floor. “I will not take any part in you and your club killing anybody, Eugene Grant. Not even a bad person like him.”
Before she can finish the last word, I’m in front of her. Taking her face in my hands, I run the pads of my thumbs along her cheekbones. “I’m not in the business of just offing people, Grace. I’m flattered you think I’m that cold-blooded, but it’s just not the way the Black Hoods run things. Not unless we have no other choice.”
She doesn’t know it, but when our bodies are this close together, her pupils dilate, and her body leans closer, her breasts brushing my chest just enough to count.
“You promise you won’t hurt him?”
“Not unless we have no other choice.”
I watch as her eyes fall closed, looking as if she’s fighting a war inside her mind. Finally, after a few moments, she nods. Her eyes are still closed, but she nods. “Fine. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll give you the file. Do what you want with it, but I’ll need it back the same day.”
She looks defeated, while I feel like I’ve just climbed Mount-fucking-Everest.
I crash my mouth onto hers, her lips soft as they dance against mine, her tongue darting out to glide across my lower lip.
The smell of her hair fills my nose as her body presses even closer to mine. When she moans softly into my mouth, I realize that just being here with her like this silences everything. All the bullshit that invades our minds every day. Bills we need to pay, conversations we could have been cleverer in. What’s making that sound on my motorcycle when I rev it up. All of it, gone.
Grace clings to me as I walk her back, only stopping when her ass hits the edge of my kitchen table. Lifting her, I set her on the table and drop to my knees in front of her. Thank the good Lord for pencil skirts. Pushing the skirt up, I expose her long, creamy thighs, and a pair of black lace panties that are begging to be ripped o
ff and done away with.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a man,” she whispers. I don’t know why she feels the need to tell me this. I don’t want to think about Grace being with any man. As far as I’m concerned, she’s sitting here in front of me as pure as the driven fucking snow.
“Look at me,” I order, waiting for her to meet my gaze. “Watch me.”
She pants, and her body trembles as I reach my finger forward, hooking the tiny piece of lace that covers her most intimate area.
Placing my finger on her clit, I look up to see her eyes roll back as I move the tiny bundle of nerves with my finger. She parts her lips, her breaths coming fast.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Grace?” I press harder, my own excitement jutting against the inside of my jeans.
“Yes.” Sitting up a little, she yanks my shirt up and over my head before fumbling with my buckle, but I stop her. Placing a hand on her chest, I gently push her back until she’s splayed out in front of me like a Thanksgiving Day feast. “Please.”
“Please what, baby?” I ask, drawing slow, lazy circles over her clit, loving the wanton way she rolls her hips.
“Fuck me.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I wasn’t kidding when I’d said it had been a while. It’s been well over a year at this point.
Reaching down, I fumble with my pants until I’m free, my cock heavy and long, and hard as a rock.
It only takes a moment to place my head at her entrance, and then I’m inside of her. And it feels like fucking heaven.
Together we move, and her body arches and twists from side to side, her breasts on full display. As I drive myself into her, I lean forward, nipping and licking at her rock-hard nipples as they bounce just inches from my face.
Her body shudders as she comes for me. On me. The walls of her sex surrounding me. I watch in awe as a flush spreads across her cheeks, and another across her chest. And then she’s tightening around me, falling apart around me, and falling apart again.
And then, just when I think I can’t take another minute of it, I fall with her, consumed by the pleasure rushing through my entire body as I stare into her eyes.
“You’re incredible,” I whisper, leaning forward to press against her, even though we’re still locked together in the most romantic and odd pairing I’ve ever seen. “You’re a fucking miracle.”
Grace
“Couldn’t we have taken your truck?” I grumble as I dismount his motorcycle. It’s kind of hard to get on and off one of those beasts in a pencil skirt without showing off a little more than people need to see. And considering we’re right outside the coffee shop I go to every morning, and being that coffee shop is right next to my office, I’d rather not show off anything I don’t normally show.
Eugene just grins as he helps me unhook the helmet. Once he’s done, he leans in close and whispers, “Maybe I like the way you feel against me on my bike.”
Goose bumps race along my arms, and my belly dips a little. “That so?”
“What can I say? I’m a gentleman.”
“Well, Mr. Gentleman, you’ve delivered me safely to work. I think I can handle it the rest of the way.”
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t make sure you got safely inside?”
“The kind of gentleman I shouldn’t be seen with, considering I’m working a case with two children in your care.”
He knows I’m right. This morning, I’d argued with him until I was blue in my face over how I didn’t need him to escort me to work. But when my car wouldn’t start, I had no other choice. One unscheduled day off may have gone overlooked by my boss, but two in a row, he’d be suspicious. I had to make an appearance.
“Go get your coffee, and when you’re inside your building, I’ll leave.”
“Does that caveman thing work on all the women in your life?”
“I think my kitchen table would attest that it does.” He smiles again, his gaze never leaving mine as he pulls me closer to him. His lips graze against my ear. “Can’t wait to show you what I can do in my bed.”
My face instantly flushes. We’re in public, and he talks about us sleeping together again like it’s no big deal. It’s a huge deal. I’m effectively sleeping with the enemy, and he wants to flaunt that fact right here on the street. Pushing away from him gently, I frown.
“What time do you get off?” The way he says that simple phrase makes it sound dirty.
“I should be done around five.”
“I’ll meet you here.”
“That won’t work,” I inform him. “I have a date tonight.”
Jealousy hardens his features. “A date?”
“I guess you could come with me.”
“You want me to come with you on this date?”
“Trust me,” I say with a grin. “Oh, and bring the truck. We’ll have to grab him dinner before we go.”
His frown turns into a laugh, making my heart soar. “You have strange dates.”
I shrug. “When you meet Greg, you’ll understand.”
Chuckling, he pats my behind. “Just get your coffee.”
I smile all the way into the coffee shop. Thankfully, at this hour, the lines are generally short, and today is no exception. My normal barista, Katie, stands behind the counter and waves when she spots me coming through the door. Her short blonde bob is now a bright shade of green.
“Good morning,” she greets me. “The usual?”
“Of course. And can you throw in three apple turnovers?” The kids were still in bed when we left, and a breakfast surprise may go a long way in helping Kevin’s mistrust in me. I hope so, anyway.
“You got it.”
Fluttering around the small space, she deposits a bag alongside my coffee on the counter. Using the gift card Eric had given me for my birthday last month, I pay Katie and give her a three-dollar tip. Then, grabbing my purchases, I head over to the side counter for a couple of packets of sweetener. That’s when an uneasy feeling rushes over me.
Turning, I freeze when I see a strange, disheveled, angry man moving toward me.
“Where are my kids?” he growls.
“I’m sorry?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even. My eyes dart around the store, but besides the baristas busy behind the counter, I’m all alone with him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit,” he spits. And I mean, he literally spits. Everything about him is quaking with rage. “I want my fucking kids back.”
I try to peer over his shoulder to see if Eugene has a clear view of me, but the man snaps his fingers just an inch away from my face.
“Don’t you look for your biker boyfriend. He can’t help you, anyway.”
How could he possibly know about Eugene? Unless… he’s been watching us?
“That white trash piece of shit has my kids, and you’re letting him keep them.”
Oh my God. Henry Tucker looks much different from the mugshots in the file Aaron gave me. He looks strung out, scrawny, and like he hasn’t showered in a very long time.
“Mr. Tucker, why don’t we move this discussion to my office.” Where there’s an audience. And security guards. “This is not the place to discuss custody issues.”
Breathe in, breathe out. Stay calm, Grace. Remember your training. Defuse the situation and hope he backs off.
“The fuck it isn’t. You bastards have my kids and you’re hiding them from me. I know it, and you know it.” He pushes up against me, and I feel a firm object being pressed into my side. “You’re going to take me to them.”
Holy shit. My body jolts with terror when I realize just what it is pressed against me. He has a gun. I’m helpless and at his mercy, and he knows it. There’s no way out of this unless Eugene takes notice from outside.
“Okay,” I whisper. Katie’s watching now. She raises her phone and mouths, “9-1-1.” I give her the faintest nod I can manage, praying Tucker doesn’t see it. “Whatever you say.”
“
Walk toward the door,” he orders. Leaving my coffee and bag, I do as he commands. Digging the gun into my side, he uses it to force me toward a side door I’d never seen before, away from the front door where Eugene sits on his bike. Away from my only chance of escape.
“Keep moving.”
He reaches past me for the handle, but it swings wide, and three police officers stand on the other side of it. My eyes meet his, seeing his panic. The object falls away from my side, and I take my chance. I shove myself forward, between the officers and away from Henry. Running at top speed down the short alley, I spill out onto the sidewalk, but I don’t slow down. My breathing is ragged as I run toward Eugene, who’s off his bike in one quick move when he sees me. Slamming into him, I start to cry.
“Grace? What’s wrong?”
“Henry Tucker,” I gasp. “He was in there. He knows about you and the kids. He wanted me to take him to them. He had a gun, Eugene.”
His body goes still.
“Where is he?”
“He was taking me out the side entrance, but there were some cops standing out there talking. I took my chance and ran. I don’t know where he went.”
He hugs me, and I feel him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. Pressing it to his ear, he holds me tighter, not letting me go.
A male voice picks up on the other end of the line, and I barely recognize Eugene’s voice when he growls, “Call everyone in now. We have a situation.”
Judge
I lead Grace into the clubhouse, my blood still boiling. That son of a bitch is off his fucking rocker, trying to abduct Grace with me just outside the door. It tells me he has no boundaries, that he’s more dangerous than we thought. And that he’s been watching us.
“You can hang out here,” I tell her, pointing to the common area of the clubhouse.
It’s not much, really. Just a gigantic room with a bar, a cool as hell jukebox Lindsey had found at an auction, and a pool table. Black leather couches are set up in a couple of spots for folks to relax, and there are a couple of tall pub tables with stools.