by Lynn Burke
“Jeremiah wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Explain.” My voice took on a litigious tone.
“He’s a softie. Always has been. David and his friends always used to make fun of him. Call him names, just like their dad did—does. That’s why Jeremiah wrote off his family, I’m sure.”
He held my hair back while I was throwing up. Respected my body when I’d passed out. Hell, I topped him from the bottom pretty damn easily—
“It’s probably why he joined that motorcycle gang,” Sarah continued as thoughts clouded my mind.
“To prove he was a man,” I added as the picture of Jeremiah Caldwell became clearer in my brain.
“Probably.”
“Is your father-in-law anything like David?”
Sarah laughed. “Looking at David’s dad is like seeing my husband thirty years from now.”
“And personality-wise?”
“Oh, they’re cut from the same cloth, all right.”
My frown deepened. “And I’ll bet you’re a lot like David’s mother.”
“Funny you should say that. She tells me that exact thing all the time.”
Narcissistic assholes always went for the same type.
We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up, and I stared at my black computer screen for a full five minutes.
I’d misjudged Capone’s character, but that didn’t change the fact he was a Fallen Glider. He ran with the wrong crowd, one known for its lawless ways, and therefore, a man I should avoid.
The mail slot on the front door clanked, drawing me to my feet. I’d already received that day’s mail a few hours earlier—nothing but bills.
A small envelope with my name written on it lay on the mat.
I ripped it open, read the dozen lines, and was quickly swayed into going with what my body desired, rather than what I needed.
****
I chewed through an entire pack of gum while waiting in my car, the open windows allowing a spring breeze to ruffle my hair. It had been seven days since I’d kicked Capone out of my office, and a few hours since he’d slipped a note into my mailbox.
He apologized for coming off like an asshole—his words—and assured me that he supported whatever decision I made.
Realizing that I had misjudged the man thoroughly, I chewed every single one of my fucking fingernails clean off after breezing through my pack of gum.
Crisis averted, and I felt guilty as hell after realizing what sort of man Jeremiah Caldwell truly was.
I’d decided to talk to him again, but wasn’t about to call Sarah back and ask for her new brother-in-law’s phone number. The club it was, but I also wasn’t about to force my way into the place demanding to speak to him like I’d done the first time. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. Patience wasn’t one of my virtues, but seeing how he obviously wanted to change how he appeared, I could deal.
This time.
Parked a block away, I kept an eye on Capone’s bike by the front door. Bikes and trucks packed the parking lot. A party from the looks of it.
The blonde bimbo bitch who had given us a hard time the first time I’d shown up at the club exited by herself around one in the morning. A minivan pulled up alongside the curb, and she glanced around real quick before climbing in. I yawned while staring at the broken taillight as they drove away.
My need for sleep tugged at my eyelids, but being the stubborn mule that I was, I shifted a few times, scanning the radio to keep myself awake.
It wasn’t until after three in the morning that the final two Fallen Gliders left the club, locking it up behind them.
A burst of adrenaline shot thought me, setting my hand to shaking as I started up the car and eased into the club’s parking lot.
Both men turned my way, the one beside Capone placing his hand inside his leather jacket. His not knowing my car, and my approaching in the dead of night, I expected he thought a gun would be necessary.
The second the streetlight hit my face, Capone’s brother dropped his hand.
I turned the wheel to put the car sideways a good way away from where they stood, driver side facing them, and cut the engine. “Can I talk to you, Capone?” I called out, keeping my hands on the steering wheel where they could see them.
The two exchanged a couple words, and the second man straddled his bike, brought it to life, and left. The sound of his rumbling muffler faded in the distance before Capone walked over to my car.
“You okay?” he asked, leaning down to put his hands on the bottom of the window’s frame, his face and blue eyes hidden in shadow.
“Yeah. Get in?”
He walked around the front of the car, head swiveling as though checking every dark corner—but not in the shifty way the blonde bitch had done. I unlocked the doors, and the second he slid into the passenger seat, his presence sucked all the air from my lungs.
Piercing blue eyes ate up my face until the interior’s automatic light flicked back off, leaving us to play peekaboo in the streetlight’s illumination.
“I got your note.”
He nodded, but didn’t speak.
“I appreciate your apology and your offer of support.”
Again, he didn’t utter a word.
“I’m not pregnant.”
“You took the pill?”
“I didn’t need to.”
Capone heaved a sigh and relaxed back in the seat. “The idea of ending a pregnancy didn’t sit well with me. I’m sorry for lashing out at you.”
“A man telling me what I can or can’t do doesn’t sit well with me.”
“I got that memo loud and clear,” he said, the hint of a smile in his voice.
I studied his face in the semi-darkness, trying to figure out what the fuck to do.
“Come home with me and I’ll make you an early breakfast,” he said, sounding too much like a dominant alpha for my liking.
Raising my brow, I cocked my head. “Care to rephrase that?”
He chuckled. “Can you come over to my place so I can make you breakfast?”
“I can…”
His turn to cock his head, his smile growing. “Would you? Please?”
Even though I’d been determined to set us straight, not leave a string for guilt to hang onto, the man intrigued me to the point I told my inner voice all up in arms about being strong and independent to go pound sand. “I’d like that.”
“Follow me,” he said while climbing back out the passenger door.
Heart thumping, I started the car and eased out of the parking lot, realizing that I’d allowed a man to toss a command at me without a rebuttal.
Capone
Helina Bodnar sat at the island of my kitchen, cup of coffee in her hands. I turned my back to her as I cracked eggs into the iron skillet I’d fried up bacon in while the coffee had perked. I’d wanted to make some French toast, but she said she needed to watch her carb intake.
Whatever.
The woman’s body rocked—made me hard every time I thought about the curve of her hips and round ass, but I kept the thoughts to myself.
Three-thirty in the morning, and I was acting the chef while sporting a hard-on rather than devouring every inch of her body. I’d considered slamming her against the wall and taking what my aching balls wanted, but she hadn’t put out the vibes she’d agreed to come over for sex.
Breakfast, it was—unless she tossed an order my way to please her, which I’d be pleased as fuck to obey.
The toast popped, and I shifted sideways to pull the two slices from the toaster, grimacing at the press of my dick against my leathers. Why the fuck did her bossiness turn me on so much?
“You’re way more comfortable in a kitchen than I am,” Helina said, breaking the tense silence that had lingered over us for the previous twenty or so minutes.
Inwardly, I snorted at her word comfortable—I was far from it. “I went to school with Diane.”
“So how did you end up a gang member rather than a chef with your own restaurant like he
r?”
My stomach twisted as I turned and set our plates on the island. “Long story.”
She studied me with those damn cat eyes. “I don’t have to be in the office for a few hours,” she said, her lips twitching.
“Yeah, but you’ll want to catch some zzz’s before then.”
Helina shrugged and picked up her fork. “Food looks good. Smells even better,” she added after an inhale over the plate.
I sat with another grimace, adjusted the bulge between my legs, and dug in, hunger, tiredness, and lust all battling for dominance in my body. If Helina noted my discomfort or the hard ridge alongside my right thigh, she didn’t say a word.
“Sarah told me about your father.”
My head jerked up, and I forced myself to finish chewing the bacon in my mouth. “What about him?” I asked once I swallowed, a frown denting my brow as my dick lost all fucking interest.
“He’s where David got his narcissistic asshole-ish-ness, isn’t it?” She continued to peer into my eyes as though trying to reach into my soul and yank on all the unpleasant strings knotting up the memories of my life.
“What do you know about narcissistic assholes?”
“Mom finally grew the balls to leave my father, but she’d waited until he’d passed out drunk on the couch when I was five. He used to run with a biker gang like yours. Her second choice didn’t run with a brotherhood, but he isn’t much better than the first in my opinion.”
“Shit.” My heart sank as a million questions flitted through my damn head. “How much do you remember about your dad?”
“More than I care to.”
I nodded slowly, my gaze flitting over the frown on her brow, the slight downturned lips. “You’re lucky you got out early.”
“You didn’t.”
“Nope.” My fork clanked on the plate as I stabbed at a pile of scrambled eggs.
“Should I be afraid for Sarah?”
I chewed, considering. “David’s an asshole, all right, but I don’t think he’d ever lay a hand on her.”
“What if she finally realizes he treats her like shit and decides to leave him?”
“Then she’ll have me in her corner.”
Helina continued to study me. “That’s why you joined the Gliders, isn’t it? Because no one was in your corner.”
“I feel like I’m on trial here,” I said, putting a twinkle of my hidden grin in my eyes. Fuck, did her intensity turn me on—even if we were discussing my shitty family.
She shrugged and finally looked away while picking up a piece of bacon. “It’s what I do best… If only some more people in this damn town realized that.”
“They will,” I said, with confidence in my voice. “Might take patience and time, but your firm will grow. Just keep being you.”
“Well?” she asked, glancing my way again with a small smile.
“Well, what?”
She lifted a brow and waited me out.
Damn woman.
Heaving a breath, I pushed my plate away and sat forward, propping my forearms on the island. “I joined the Gliders to prove to my dad that I’m not a pansy-ass or pussy like he always claimed I was. That I’m a manly man, just like my brother and his asshole friends.”
Helina snorted and bit into her bacon.
“What’s so funny?” Gaze glued to her pouty lips, I watched as she chewed, my dick getting harder again by the second.
“A real man is one who is emotionally mature,” she said once she swallowed, raising her fork into the air and rotating the prongs in a circle. “Not an asshole who think the world revolves around him.”
I lifted an eyebrow.
She forked up her last bite of eggs. “He knows his mind and heart, and has no issue with communicating what’s in both.”
“No such man exists.”
She shrugged again while chewing. “I’m prone to agree.”
“Should I feel offended right now?” I asked with a grin even though I’d said it first.
Light laughter puffed past her lips, and she placed her fork and knife upside down on her plate. “I don’t know you well enough, but I’ll admit to lumping you in with the rest of the men I’ve run across in my life.”
“Because of what I chose to do with mine.” It wasn’t a question, merely a statement of what anyone in her situation would have done.
“Yes.”
“I forgive you.”
One of her eyebrows arched. “For?”
“Misjudging me.” I held her gaze, a slow, lazy grin tilting my lips as hers twitched.
“So you’re not an asshole?”
“Some might think so,” I said, shifting on my stool, “but my insides are gooey as marshmallows melted in butter.”
“Add a little snap, crackle, and pop, and you’d be one of my favorite downfalls.” Her eyes twinkled, and I leaned into her personal space, holding her gaze.
“You’re full of snap, crackle, and pop…” I let my voice trail off, hoping she understood exactly what I tried to communicate.
She tried to bite back her smile, but failed. “What exactly are you trying to say, Capone?”
She knows, but fine. I’ll play her game. As if I could help myself.
I slid to the edge of my stool and leaned all the way in, pressing my lips against hers.
A quick inhale through her nose, and she responded, angling her head and opening as I licked across the seam of her mouth.
Coffee, bacon, and pure sweetness…
I groaned and slid an arm around her back, tugging her closer. Every swipe of her tongue, every nip of my teeth on her lush lips sent an ache through my cock. Again trapped between my thigh and leathers as I leaned forward, my damn dick fought for freedom.
Needing some space in my leathers, I pulled away, running a thumb over her swollen, lower lip. Eyes a bit hazed, she stared at my mouth.
“Want to sit on the couch and communicate more about our feelings?” I asked with another lazy grin.
Helina blinked and lifted her attention to my eyes. “Trying to prove you’re a real man?” Her voice, all breathless and hitched, betrayed exactly what she felt.
“If that’s what it’s going to take for you to go out with me tonight and tomorrow, and the day after that, then yes.”
Helina
Holy fuck, did his lips and tongue rock my world. My body honed in on the heat radiating off his as my focus narrowed in on getting what I wanted rather than staying strong.
“How about you put this to good use,” I said, sliding my hand down along the hard ridge inside his leather pants while standing between his legs, “and then we’ll talk about next time.”
“Condoms are in my bedroom.” His brow rose, those sleepy, blue bedroom eyes twinkling as he palmed my ass.
I smiled, feathering my fingertips over the swollen head of his imprisoned cock. “They had better be a different brand and newer than the last one you used while fucking me.”
He groaned. “Same damn box.”
His admission widened my eyes a bit. “Honesty. I like that.”
“Am I still going to be able to put this to good use?” The lust in his eyes made me damn near cream my panties as he closed a hand over mine and squeezed his hard length.
I leaned in and tugged on his lower lip with my teeth, slowly pulling back until the plump flesh popped free. “Which way to the bedroom?” I whispered.
“Goddamn, woman…” He stood and lifted me, both of his hands palming my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist.
He strode, and I sucked on his neck. He moaned, and I tangled my fingers in the longer hair atop his head. He dug his fingers into my ass, and I gyrated in his hold, pressing my pussy against his cock.
We fell on the bed, Capone planked over me, his mouth devouring mine, blowing every thought out of my head. But, God … the feels he woke inside of me.
“Your mouth is sinful,” he whispered against my lips. “Delicious. And the skin on the slope of your neck…” He skimmed hi
s nose down to my collarbone as I clutched at his hair again, and lifted my hips to press my aching pussy against his hard length. “Your perfume drives me fucking insane.” Flicks of his tongue along my neck sent shivers clear to my toes.
I panted beneath him as he shifted slightly off to my side, propped on one elbow, his free hand sliding across my stomach.
Flutters rippled through me as he skimmed first one finger then another beneath my t-shirt.
“I want to see every inch of you,” he murmured, nuzzling my ear. “I want to taste you. Feel your tight pussy clench my cock as you come. I want to hear my name on your lips.”
He sure as hell knows how to communicate what he desires… The thought curved my lips.
“What?” he asked, his fingers trailing up over my rib cage.
“I thought we were going to talk about feelings, not wants.”
“What I feel for you is an unquenchable thirst. Silly butterflies in my stomach. It’s like an eighth-grade crush all over again,” he replied without hesitation.
I actually giggled, but it cut off as he rubbed a thumb over my aching nipple, a mere scrap of lace between us.
“You’re all I’ve thought about since you walked down that aisle, a spicy cloud of that damn perfume filling my nose, your mere presence filling every space in my head. I can’t sleep.” He tugged on my nipple through my bra while tracing my ear with his tongue. “Can’t even be bothered to consider one of the club whores no matter how much they offer.”
“As a badass motorcycle gang member, I think you’d tap any willing ass.”
“Not when Helina Bodnar is the only one I want.”
My breath caught as he lifted his head. He peered down at me, his blue eyes nearly dominated by black pupils in the shadowed bedroom.
“Because I’m a challenge?” I asked.
“Because everything about you—all that damn snap, crackle, and pop—turns me the fuck on.” The openness in his eyes—like a direct window to his soft soul—dragged me in deep. I found myself sinking and couldn’t find a single fuck to give. “You’re strong and independent. One hell of a fierce opponent.”
“You aren’t intimidated by that part of me?”
He shrugged. “A bit, but I find it sexy as fuck, too.”