by Ada Stone
“It’s a club, not a gang, but I’m sure from where you sit, it looks to be the same.” He didn’t raise his voice. She didn’t need that, not yet. “Look, we don’t know each other. Well, not enough to decide right this second what we want to do about us, but I’m telling you that since I met you, I haven’t gotten you out of my head. And when I saw you yesterday, it hit me. It wasn’t just you I was missing; I was worried that you’d be off having my kid without me. That I would never know him…or you.”
She swiped a hand across her mouth. “You really want to be involved?”
“Not just involved, no weekend dad shit, I want us to make this work. Give it a try.”
“Right now isn’t exactly the time for me to start dating, Michael. My mom—”
“Is sicker than you let me think. I get it. We just met, and you were trying to get in my pants, but understand this, from now on, you tell me everything. No hiding anything; no sugar coating it. Now,” he stuffed his hands into his pockets, “how sick is she?”
“She’s going to die.” The elevator doors slid open on her sob.
CHAPTER SEVEN
What the hell was she going to do? The hospital bills were already starting to get higher with each visit. The insurance had approved her admission, but some of the tests were being done by out-of-network doctors. Hospitals didn’t pay attention to what doctors were in what plans, and if you got a radiologist reading your MRI who wasn’t in your network, you’d get a bill from his office too.
The medicine alone was almost more than Belle could handle. Her mom’s savings was nearly dry, and her own wasn’t much to boast about.
Seeing Michael at the hospital had reminded her of what she had walked away from. A part of her pointed out that he was there because he’d been hurt in a fight. A fight. A grown man had gotten stabbed in a goddamn alley fight. That wasn’t husband material or father material. No, he wasn’t right for her. Then the other part—the part that found comfort in his arms, felt safe when he stared at her and longed to see him again after that brief encounter the night he was brought in—told her to ignore the danger. He would keep her safe. He would keep the baby safe.
He’d given her the night to think. After getting off the elevator, he told her that he would think of something to help with her mom. He kissed her and told her to get some rest. She watched him walk out of the hospital and wondered what he thought he could accomplish that she couldn’t.
She didn’t get much time, though. He said he’d pick her up from work. What was she going to say? She needed to tell him he wasn’t going to be in his kid’s life. Right. Because he looked completely reasonable about that when he talked to her the day before. All of a sudden, the baby had meaning to him. He wanted it and her.
“Uh, Belle?” Janet tapped her shoulder. Belle shoved the last tray of instruments into the autoclave and spun around. “There’s a guy up front looking for you. Said he’s picking you up?” Oh, no. Janet started to smile. “He’s kinda hot.”
Hot. He was worse than hot. Just looking at him made her want to blush, and when she thought about all the things they did together that night, she really did blush.
“I’ll be right there.” Belle finished setting the autoclave to start and wiped her hands on her scrub bottoms. It had been a long day. The insurance company was sticking firm to their decision about not paying for the Gamma Knife treatment unless her mother went with an in-network doctor, but the only one in-network had only just started his training on the procedure. Since, technically, he could perform the procedure, the insurance company said she’d have to take her mother there. So much for quality healthcare.
“Belle, you coming? He’s tapping his fingers on the counter and looking like he’s going to come get you himself if you don’t hurry up.” Janet appeared in the doorway of the breakroom.
“I’m coming,” Belle snapped, then swung her purse over her shoulder. He couldn’t give her a few minutes to grab her things? He wanted what he wanted that very moment, just like a child. She was about to go on a date with a child.
A motorcycle club captain who acted like a child. Her stomach rolled, and she paused a moment to be sure the lunch she’d eaten hours ago was going to remain inside her stomach before she continued on down the hall.
She turned the corner to head to the front desk and bumped right into a massive chest. A massive chest covered in a leather vest. “Shit.” She rubbed her nose and took a step back.
“You were taking a while. I got worried.” He cupped her chin and lifted her face to look at her nose. “Not broken.” He gave her a charming smile and tapped the tip of her nose with his finger.
“No thanks to you,” she bit out. “Do you have cement for ribs? Cripes.” She rubbed it again.
He laughed. “Nope, just muscle. You okay?”
“Yeah. Just a bit tired.” Her stomach took that moment to grumble loudly between them. “And apparently hungry.” Her face heated under his smiling stare.
“Good. Let’s go get something to eat, then.” He plucked up her hand into his and led her out of the office before she could do more than wave to Julie, who watched them leave with an opened mouth and envious stare.
When they walked up to his bike, she took the helmet he handed her and shuffled her purse strap around her head. “Where are we going?”
“My place.” He winked, then finished snapping her chin strap into place.
She maneuvered onto the bike behind him and wrapped her arms around tight. It felt too good. It shouldn’t feel so good just have her arms around someone like that. She did her best to pretend he was nothing more than a pillar, something to keep her from falling off the bike, but the longer they rode, the more she couldn’t ignore the hard muscles beneath her hands, and his musky scent mingled with the leather of his kutte.
Michael’s place was a bi-level ranch on the outskirts of town. The grass was neatly cut, and all the bushes outlining the property were perfectly trimmed. There were even flowers blooming in the garden out front. Not what she expected from a motorcycle captain.
He took her helmet to stow, then grabbed her hand again. Belle let herself be led up the few steps to the door and inside the house. Her apartment should be as clean as his house was. Not a thing was out of place, no dust on any of the furniture, and the carpet still had marks from the vacuum being run over it. When she looked to him, he laughed, a deep chuckle she was coming to enjoy hearing from him.
“I’m a little bit of a neat freak.” He shrugged and waved her toward the kitchen.
“You cook, too?” She didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but she was. Most men she dated knew enough to read the package for instructions on their frozen dinners. She wouldn’t expect the captain of the Street Demons to be so domestic.
“Oh, no, sorry, you’re not that lucky.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a takeout menu. “The pasta up at the cabin is about as good as it gets for my cooking.” Opening up a menu, he started to look it over. “Pizza okay with you, or do you have a taste for something else?” He looked up over the pizza stained menu at her. “Any cravings?”
It was her turn to laugh. “I don’t think that happens for a while yet. Like maybe after all the puking stops. Pizza’s fine.” She removed her purse and plunked it on the kitchen island.
While he put the order in, she took her time walking around the kitchen. Beautiful marble countertops, custom made cabinets, and stone flooring she’d admired in catalogues had her warning herself never to let him into her apartment. Between the size and the big box store furniture, it wasn’t much to boast about.
“All ordered. Half cheese and half veggie.” He pulled open the door on the stainless steel fridge and pulled out a beer. He gave her a side glance. “You want a soda or water?”
“Wine. I want wine.” She pointed the bottle on the counter—sweet red. Perfect.
“No way.” He shook his head and picked up the bottle, stowing it in a rack out of her reach.
“Why? It’s okay. A glass now and then
won’t hurt the baby.” She tried to assure him and kept her eye on the wine bottle. She’d been careful about everything she ate since she saw that plus sign pop up on the stick, but at that moment, she wanted wine. Something to take the edge off her nerves. “Michael, the doctor even said,” she tried again when he just raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t give a shit what the doctor said. You’re not drinking.” He reopened the fridge and put his beer away. “There. I won’t either.” He yanked out a container of what looked to be ice tea and brought it to the counter. Grabbing two glasses from the cabinet above him, he poured them each some. “Here, sweet tea.”
“If you’re still trying to make a case for me to stick around with you, you’re off to a pretty shitty start,” she pointed out, snagging a glass and taking a sip. It was damn near perfect, not too sugary.
“You have my baby in your belly, and you’re standing in my kitchen. Baby, you are already stuck with me.” He tipped his glass toward her, then drained it. She watched his throat move while he swallowed. Thick. His neck, his shoulders, and his voice—everything about him was just so large. How had he gone so long without being noticed by someone?
“Do you have a girlfriend? Or did you? When we first met?”
His eyes widened at the question. He leaned back against the counter. Setting his glass down, he pulled her to him, his hands heavy on her hips. “I don’t really do the girlfriend-boyfriend thing.”
“Oh, because you’re a biker?”
“No, because it never works out. Most girls don’t really like my brand of relationship.”
His eyes held a warning in them, but she was too close to stop now. “What’s that?”
He remained silent for a long moment, searching her expression. Maybe he was trying to find the right words or was deciding if he should tell her at all. Then, he confided. “I’m old-fashioned. I say no wine, the answer’s no wine. I tell you no more coffee until this baby’s born, then I expect you to not drink any coffee.”
She tensed. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she tried to clarify. “So you like to be in charge, a little power play.”
He shook his head. “No power play. Just the way it is with me. When I have a girl, when she’s mine, really mine, I will protect her with my life. Everything I have belongs to her and only her. I don’t fuck around. And I expect her to follow my lead, follow my rules.”
“Obey you. That’s what you wanted to say there, but you hesitated.” She yanked out of his hands.
He sighed. “See. Like I said.” He pointed at her as she started to pace the kitchen.
“So, if I say okay, let’s do this, that’s how it’s going to be?”
“That’s the way it already is, Belle.” He pushed off the counter and walked around her, going for another drawer. She stayed silent as he put an envelope on the counter, sliding it to her. “We take care of our families first. The club won’t let a member’s family suffer if they can stop it. The bill at the hospital is cleared. I took care of that this afternoon. This,” he stabbed the bulging envelope, “this you’ll deposit into your checking account so you can pay anything that comes in. When you get low, you tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”
Not sure what to say, she just stared at him. One minute he was telling her she needed to obey him in everything, the next he was telling her the money worries for her mother were over. The doorbell rang, giving her the moment of reprieve she wanted. He gave her one more look before going to meet the pizza delivery guy at the door.
She picked up the envelope, fingering the flap until it opened. A thick stack of one hundred dollar bills was in the envelope. Her breath caught in her chest, burning her for several seconds as the tears welled in her eyes.
The aroma of pizza preceded him into the kitchen, but when she saw him, she looked up. He slid the pizza box onto the island and stared back at her.
“This is a lot of money.” She waved the envelope. “Where’d you get this? Why would your club give this to me? I’m not a member. I’m not even dating you.”
He moved around the island, keeping her pinned in place with his eyes. When he reached her, he framed her face with his hands. “I just told you, I don’t do the dating thing. You are carrying my baby. You’re already mine. You just need to accept it in your mind.”
“You don’t even know me,” she whispered.
“I know enough.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And you’ll get to know me. I’m not telling you that you have to move in here tonight. I’m saying you’re not alone. You have me now. I’ll take care of you, of the baby, and your mom, too. We’ll get her the best care. Okay?” So sincere were his words and his tone, she nodded. How could she not? He was offering her the world. What harm could really come from at least trying to be his girlfriend? No, not girlfriend, something else. Something more.
“What happens when you get tired of me? I’m not like those girls I see hanging around your clubhouse when I drive by.” She waved her hands over her body. She had a nice body, but those girls were made for sex.
“I won’t ever tire of you. And if I wanted one of those girls at the club, I’d already have one of them upstairs chained to my bed.”
“Is that what you’ll do to me? Chain me to your bed?” He hadn’t let go of her face yet, and his lips were so close but not close enough.
“Oh, baby, there are a lot of things I’m going to do to you. Tying you up in my bed is only the beginning.” Finally, he brought his lips down on hers. She moaned right into his mouth when his tongue pushed through her lips and swept over hers. He pressed her against the counter, and she could feel his erection pressing against her hip, but it couldn’t compare to the desire she felt burning inside of her for him at that moment.
Maybe it would be okay. Being his might be good.
# # #
She tasted too good for just one sampling. He broke the kiss only to dive right back in for a second and a third. The pizza sat on the counter, chilling as the moments ticked by. It would keep.
“Take this thing off.” His hands gripped the hem of her soft blue scrub top and pulled it up over her head. She raised her arms to make it easier for him. Good. No need to go over the whole obey rule again; she’d already caught on. “What the hell is this?” He took half a step back and pointed at the cami she wore.
“It’s just a tank top, Michael.” She rolled her eyes.
“No bra?” He slid a finger beneath the thin strap of material over her shoulders and pulled it down, the tank following along. Her breasts popped out of the shirt as he dragged it down.
“I…no. Why?”
He pushed her hands away when she started to cover herself.
“I’m fine with no panties and bra when you’re with me.” He picked up her breasts in his hands and bent to take one nipple into his mouth. “Just surprised you’d wear just this flimsy thing.” He snapped the material against her belly before moving to her other breast, repeating the action of running his tongue around the peaked flesh and suckling it just before sinking his teeth in.
As if his cock weren’t already at full mast, her little moan at his nip sent him over the edge. Growling, he pulled away from her and took a step back. “Take everything off.” He waved his hand over her body. The scrub bottoms weren’t baggy. He could make out every curve she owned, but he wanted to see it all.
“Aren’t you hungry?” She pointed to the pizza box with a half grin.
“Not for pizza. Now take off your clothes.”
She tapped her forefinger against her lips as though she were thinking real hard about whether or not she’d give in. Teasing him wouldn’t get her very far, but she hadn’t learned that lesson yet.
“If you want to keep your clothes in one piece, I would encourage you to hurry it along.” He folded his arms over his chest but continued to stare at her.
With a mock look of surprise, she pulled her tank top off completely. “Maybe I’ll just say no, take my pizza, and sit at the table.” She hooked her th
umbs into the elastic band of her scrubs and waited for him to answer.
“And maybe I could not give you any orgasms tonight. Maybe I’ll just take my pleasure with your body and leave you wanting.” He shrugged, acting as though it didn’t matter one way or the other to him. But it did. To keep her on edge would definitely keep him hard for hours, if not days, but to completely deny her release would be as much of a punishment for him as for her. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it to show her who was in charge, who owned that tight body of hers, but he didn’t want to be pushed into it.
Several long seconds ticked by as they appeared to be in a stare down. That was fine. He’d had those before, and he’d win this one just like he had all the others.
In the end, she huffed and shoved her pants down, pulling her feet free of the pant legs. He watched as she picked up the pants and a pair of her panties tangled up with the fabric, neatly fold them, and placed them on top her tank top and scrub top. She’d kicked off her gym shoes and pushed them with her foot under the counter, out of the way.