Thank fuck she hadn’t asked what he’d been thinking. She seemed to be getting pretty good at reading his moods, just like she was good with figuring out what bothered Dyna. She had a fucking gift.
He used her question to lighten the mood. “Good with my hands.”
She arched a dark eyebrow. “You’re a mechanic. I should hope so.”
“Wasn’t what I meant.”
“I know. But I’m choosing to ignore your inuendo.”
“You’re not ignorin’ it if you’re commentin’ on it.”
“Let’s pretend I didn’t.”
His grin drew one from her, too.
“Will you also build her a crib?”
He had thought about it but he wasn’t good with wood—of the tree type—and he was pretty damn sure a crib welded from scrap metal wouldn’t be safe. The yard behind the garage was full of metal, so that was all he had to work with. He sand-blasted off any paint on the stainless steel and cleaned it thoroughly before he made the mobile. He also made sure to smooth any sharp edges by sand-blasting the pieces after he cut them with the jigsaw. To test it, he drew every edge across his own skin to make sure it wouldn’t cut him.
He would also make sure to hang it high enough so Dyna couldn’t reach it and before she could, he’d take it down.
“No, but I’m gonna build her a changin’ table out of an old dresser from The Grove Inn. Ozzy brought it over to the shop, stripped and repainted it already. I’ll work on finishin’ it tomorrow after work. So...”
“So, you’ll be late again.”
“Yeah.”
“I guess it’s better you’re late because you’re making the shit your baby girl needs instead of going out and drinking and whoring it up, trying to avoid coming home.”
She still stood close and smelled so goddamn good. He dropped his head and stared down into her face. “Ain’t avoidin’ shit.”
“I know you aren’t. I...”
He waited, but after a few heartbeats, she still hadn’t finished. “You what?”
“It’s really not for me to say, but... I’m proud of you.”
Fuck.
He hadn’t expected that. Maybe he was doing something right. But he probably couldn’t have done as well without her.
“Jem,” he said softly, not sure what to say. But, fuck it, he needed to say something. He didn’t feel he could express his appreciation for her and what she was sacrificing for him well enough with only words.
She turned away, breaking their locked gaze, and quickly changed the subject. “She was a little fussy today, but seems to be better now, which is good news for you.” She gathered her cell phone and the tablet she read on, as well as her oversized bag or purse, or whatever the fuck it was.
She was leaving.
Fuck.
He didn’t want her to leave. Not because of Dyna, but because of him.
She secured her bag over her shoulder, tucked her cell phone and tablet in the bag and went to move past him toward her Volvo.
He reached out and snagged her wrist, stopping her. With a gentle tug, he pulled her back to him. “Don’t go.”
His fucking pulse was trying to thump right out of his neck.
She looked up at him, quickly narrowing her wide green eyes. “I’m starving. I made you a plate.”
He never asked her to do that, she got into that habit on her own, but he was tired of eating alone. He was tired of her rushing out of the trailer as soon as he got home. “There enough for both of us?”
She hesitated. Her chest rose and fell slowly. She was thinking too hard for an easy answer.
He answered for her. “Don’t wanna spend time with me.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you...” She bit her bottom lip and not in a sexy way but one that showed her inner struggle.
“Then why the fuck do you bolt every day as soon as I get home? You didn’t at first, and for the past week and a half, you have. What the fuck changed?”
He was trying to tamp down his anger and frustration, but he was at the point he couldn’t hide it anymore.
Her eyes slid from him to her Volvo just beyond where they stood and back to him. She was looking at her escape. She didn’t want to answer.
“Jem...”
“Chris... You...”
“I what? Piss you off? You hate me ‘cause of what I did to Sarah? What? You hate that Dyna’s stuck with me and I didn’t give her up like some people thought I should? That she’d be better off with someone else?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Then you hate Dyna’s stuck with a father who’s a biker, like me. You think her future’s fucked. ’Cause bein’ a girl raised in a club fuckin’ sucked for you.”
“I don’t know what her future holds, but that’s not it.”
“Then what the fuck is it?”
“She’s done with her tummy time.”
Goddamn it. “Gonna grab her in a sec. Once you answer me. You just think I’m a motherfuckin’ asshole then, that it?”
Jemma shook her head. “You haven’t been an asshole once. Everyone says you are. Jokes about what a dick you can be. Truthfully, I haven’t seen it.”
“Maybe you don’t see it ‘cause you’re used to bein’ around assholes. It ain’t like your brother ain’t one. And your father sure was the ultimate asshole.”
“Judge isn’t an asshole.” She sighed. “Neither are you. Just because you don’t fart rainbows and glitter all the time doesn’t make you an asshole. It makes you human.”
“So, what is it?” he asked in a rough whisper.
She hadn’t tried to pull free of his grip, so he slowly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb back and forth over the delicate skin of her inner wrist.
A shiver shot through her, once again causing visible goosebumps along the skin he could see. Which was a lot. She wore a dark pink V-neck, short-sleeved top that framed her generous cleavage and was also too thin to hide the way her nipples had responded to his touch. He was tempted to slide his tongue along her neck and taste her there.
Fuck the shiver, he wanted to make her shudder.
He also wanted to hear his name on her lips for something other than discussing his daughter. The thought of her moaning his name while tasting her soft skin shot blood south and woke up his dick.
This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten a chubby around her. Most of the time he could hide it from her. This time he didn’t bother. If he went full-blown hard, he wanted her to see how touching her affected him. He wanted her to know she wasn’t the only one feeling whatever it was between them.
He fought the urge to press the hand he held to his dick, but figured she might take offense to that contact and neuter him right on the spot. He liked his dick, as well as his balls, and would like to keep them attached to his body.
“Jem, why d’you keep runnin’ away?” At first he thought she simply needed a well-earned break, but now it was smacking him upside the head it was something else.
Something deeper.
“I’m not running away... I’m just...”
“Just?”
She blew out a breath and the warm air swept over his throat, making his dick twitch and grow even harder. He would soon have full wood.
“I’m just trying to be smart.”
“Smart about what?” He was going to get a goddamn straight answer from her before he’d let her escape this time.
He needed to know why the fuck he was sitting alone eating a fucking dinner she made but didn’t enjoy. Wanting to spend time with anyone and everyone other than him seemed to be the answer, but he needed to hear it from her.
“You tempt me.”
He tempted her? “What d’you mean?”
Was it the same way she tempted him? Was it the same way that caused him to wait until Dyna was sound asleep so he could whack the fuck off every night? And sometimes in the morning, too? All because he wanted to head to the other side of the trailer, kick open her
door and fuck her brains out.
Since he couldn’t, he did the next best thing. He’d close his eyes and imagine his fist was her tight pussy, or her hot mouth, until he shot his hot, what seemed like endless, load all over his own stomach. She washed some of his laundry a couple of days ago, did she wonder why a couple of his dirty T-shirts were stiff?
“You know what I mean. I need to minimize my time around you as much as possible.”
“Why do I tempt you?”
She frowned and drew her free hand across her forehead, like she was wiping away invisible sweat. “I don’t know, but I hate that you do.”
Christ. She hated that she wanted him. “Why d’you hate it?”
“Because I didn’t come here for dick, Cage.” She was on the verge of shouting.
“Don’t mean you can’t get some dick.”
“We need to live together right now for Dyna’s sake. Like I said, it’s not smart.”
“We all got needs.” He needed to stop jerking off and experience the real thing. Because nothing beat a warm, wet, tight pussy. His own rough, calloused fingers weren’t even close.
He considered getting a Fleshlight or latex pocket pussy, like Judge and probably some of his other brothers had, but right now he couldn’t afford one. He wasn’t paying for a goddamn fake pussy to blow his load into when his daughter needed shit.
His pleasure would have to wait.
Unless there was a warm, soft and wet woman willing to help him out with his dilemma...
“I can get my needs filled elsewhere. Not with someone I need to see every fucking day. Not with the father of the baby girl I’m helping with. It’s just a sticky situation because I’m not staying and you have your hands full. And the idea of just fucking to fuck seems way too problematic.”
Why was there anything wrong with just fucking to fuck? Humans have done it for thousands of years. Cavemen probably fucked just to fuck. She probably didn’t want to hear that, though. “Don’t have to be problematic.”
“Really? Tell that to yourself. Look what a couple quick fucks in a shed did to your life. Sex can get complicated, even when it’s not supposed to be. And, anyway, I don’t do casual.”
She didn’t do casual. “Just said you could get your needs filled elsewhere. That means you’d be doin’ some strange. So, which is it? You don’t do randoms, or you do? You’re confusin’ the fuck outta me.”
If she only did relationships, why wasn’t she in one now? Or why hadn’t any of her past relationships been successful enough that she was married, or at least still with the guy?
“You’re not the only one confused. To me, casual and randoms are two different things. One is someone you casually have sex with whenever you’re in the mood. It’s the same person but no commitment. Randoms are just that. One-night-stands. It’s a hi, fuck, bye situation. Deacon’s an expert at those. Or was, until Reese.”
“So, wait. You’re sayin’ you won’t do casual but you’ll do a random fuck?” His fingers tightened on her wrist. His blood was beginning to simmer and not in a good way.
“I normally don’t do either. But...” She shook her head. “I’m not getting into this with you. Just know this, I have no desire to get mixed up with a biker, even if I was into casual sex.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t ever want to be with a man like my father.”
“I ain’t your father.”
“So you say.”
“I know the shit your father did. I know what he did to you, Jem. I’d never do that to Dyna.”
“Again, so you say. You can’t say that for sure.”
He set his jaw. “I’d never put my daughter in fuckin’ danger.” The simmer was turning into a boil.
“You don’t know what you’d do if you had a shitload of guns pointed in your direction and a convenient shield nearby who you knew the cops wouldn’t fire at.”
“Fuck, Jem. You’re pissin’ me the fuck off.”
“Good. Then let me go,” her eyes flicked down for a second to where he held her, “so I can go get dinner.”
“If you’re so fuckin’ hungry, you got dinner here. You just don’t wanna eat it with me because I fuckin’ tempt you.”
“Do you really want to risk fucking this up?”
He knew what she meant. If he fucked her and things went sideways, she’d be out the door in a fucking flash, leaving him alone with Dyna and no help.
No, he couldn’t fucking risk that.
He also didn’t want to risk Judge’s wrath if he ever found out Cage had boned his sister. The big guy made it clear not to fuck with her, and Cage took that warning seriously.
He wasn’t really fond of attending blanket parties, unless he was the one throwing the fucking party. His ribs were still healing from the last one and he’d only just begun to breathe more freely through his broken nose.
More importantly, remaining upright and above ground was necessary to raise his daughter.
That same daughter took that opportunity to start crying.
His head twisted toward Dyna automatically and he released Jemma’s wrist. Unfortunately, that connection had been the only thing keeping her from leaving. Of course, she immediately took advantage of her freedom.
She mumbled, “I gotta go,” as he moved to get his daughter.
As much as he wanted Jemma, Dyna came first.
He reached down for the baby and noticed her head turned toward him as he said her name. Whether that was coincidence or not, he had no fucking clue, but he hoped it was because she knew he was her dad.
He scooped her up, along with the pacifier which was lying on the blanket, and cuddled her to his chest.
His anger quickly dissipated when his heart just about fucking melted as he read today’s onesie: Daddy’s New Riding Buddy, with a child-like stick drawing of a motorcycle.
Jesus fucking Christ.
He’d be disappointed when she outgrew all the cute onesies.
He offered her the binky hoping it would curtail her crying so he could continue the conversation with Jemma. She took it and stared up at him with her gray-blue eyes.
Jesus fuck.
This was his blood. He created her.
How could Ox use his fucking daughter as a shield? The thought of putting Dyna in danger, especially for selfish reasons, just about cut him off at the knees.
Once Dyna was sucking strongly and had quieted down, he turned to see, and hear, the Volvo’s door slam shut.
“Jem!”
Their conversation wasn’t finished. Not even close.
But not even a minute later, all Cage saw was her taillights as she drove faster than she should down the rough lane past the farmhouse.
“Fuck.”
With one arm holding Dyna against him, he curled the fingers of his other hand around his hip and dropped his head. With his eyes closed, he took a couple deep inhales. When he opened his eyes, he stared down at his future.
It wasn’t a woman.
It was his daughter.
Jemma was right. Fucking her wouldn’t be smart.
It still didn’t mean he didn’t want to.
Chapter Twelve
The Volvo’s headlight beams sliced across the dark figure sprawled in one of the Adirondack chairs.
Fuck.
Jemma had hoped she’d return after he’d already gone to bed. Or at least be passed out on the couch in front of the TV. Her goal had been to come home late enough to avoid continuing their earlier conversation.
She feared, if he pushed hard and long enough, she might cave.
To what she wanted. To what he wanted.
Which was the same thing. The exchanging of orgasms and body fluids in a horizontal, vertical or even diagonal fashion.
But when she thought about it with a clear head, which was what she did every time she wasn’t around Cage, she confirmed it was stupid.
So, so fucking stupid.
She could easily walk away and rid herself of the temp
tation. Nothing held her in Manning Grove. She was only there to help him.
So, really, if he wanted to screw that up, that would be on him, right?
Or would she feel guilty for abandoning him?
No, not him.
She’d feel guilty abandoning her. Dyna. She was here for the baby, not Cage. Dyna was the most important thing for both of them right now. Sex was not.
Simply put, she could find anyone for sex.
Hell, after drinking with two Fury members all night, she could probably return to Crazy Pete’s and ask Dodge to take her upstairs and, as long as she promised Judge wouldn’t find out, he’d most likely drag her up those steps with a sexy grin and a hard-on.
Or she could head over to The Grove Inn and pound on Ozzy’s door and, as long as he was alone, he’d probably invite her into his apartment and his bed to pound her into his mattress and give her brush-burn with his beard in several key areas.
Or, shit, she could walk the few hundred feet or so to the bunkhouse and find a willing volunteer there, too. A couple shots of whiskey and a condom later, she could be naked and drumming up a decent orgasm or two.
Guaranteed, none of those guys would say shit about it to anyone because of Judge and Deacon. Her secret would be safe.
But she didn’t want that.
She didn’t want to crawl into and then back out of some biker’s bed. She really didn’t want to do that in any man’s bed.
In her first five years of life, she had seen way too much casual sex all around her. It meant nothing to any of the participants except for power or a quick release. It wasn’t until many years later she realized none of what she saw had any meaning. None of it meant anything to the people involved.
The Originals who forced women didn’t do it for the sex, especially since they had their choice of volunteers who would fuck them without being forced.
No, they did it because they could.
Because they liked the fight.
Or the fear.
Or the sense of power it gave them.
Or because they thought they were teaching a female a “lesson” on which gender was stronger.
Or smarter.
Or whatever their fucked up reasoning was.
But to most of them, the sex meant nothing. It was a quick bang and a release of their load until they picked their next target.
Blood & Bones: Cage (Blood Fury MC Book 5) Page 16