A warmth hit her back, even through the cotton of her oversized T-shirt. He now smelled like damp heat and a touch of sex, not from her, but his own release caught in his boxer briefs.
She avoided direct eye contact as she turned and began to push past him.
“Jem, wait.” He went for her arm and she pulled it out of reach before he could stop her.
She noticed his blue eyes appeared troubled and his wet hair was slicked back from raking his fingers through it.
Clenching her jaw, she steeled herself against the pull between them she could no longer deny.
The weirdness was no longer weird. Tonight it became something else.
She realized for the first time in her life that a person could fall in love with someone without sex bonding the two. She had mistakenly thought intimacy was needed to make a true connection. The problem was when there was a connection established and intimacy was added, it only made the bond stronger.
So, she needed to avoid that. She couldn’t risk falling any harder for Cage than she already was. And if they added sex to the mix, it might tear her heart out when she left.
Leaving a baby she loved would almost destroy her.
Leaving a man she loved would finish the job.
“Don’t ever do that again. Not if you want me to stay.” She left his room and kept walking until she was in her own and the door was locked behind her.
She scrubbed at her lips to try to erase the feel of his on hers. The kiss that led to more.
The kiss that made her want him more than ever.
She promised Judge she’d stay until she found the right job, but staying might become unbearable, since resisting Cage might become impossible.
Chapter Fourteen
Cage groaned. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jemma.
He couldn’t touch her without chasing her away. He also wasn’t in the mood for another motherfucking blanket party. Even so, he’d been struggling to keep his hands to himself. He barely managed it by making his hand his willing partner, instead.
He didn’t even get to fuck her and that night in the rain was the hottest fucking sex he’d ever had.
How she felt against him, how slick she got from his touch, her gasps and whimpers and cries, how her delicate throat felt vulnerable under the press of his fingers. Holding her like that had made him so hard he thought his dick would split open like an overcooked hot dog.
He not only whacked off every morning and every night, every time he was in the shower, it took him back to those moments in the rain and he’d get hard as a fucking rock. His shower would get longer and the water would get cooler. Then, instead of him shooting his load in his boxer briefs like he had, it would swirl down the drain.
His current shower was no exception.
All he had to do was turn on the water, shut his eyes, and he’d quickly go back to that night.
When they sealed their mouths together and touched tongues.
When he pinned her against him with the hand on her throat.
When he twisted her nipple and she shuddered against him.
When her hand guided him lower, when she actually encouraged him to take it further instead of pushing him away.
When his finger first slid through her swollen, slick lips. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been with a woman who’d gotten so wet so fast.
When her hot sheath surrounded his fingers as he pumped in and out of it, and he wished it was his dick instead.
When the nub of her clit hardened beneath the press of his thumb.
When her cunt squeezed and rippled around him.
When the intensity of her orgasm soaked his fingers even more.
The way his hard dick fit perfectly between her soft, round ass cheeks and the harder he pushed, the more she rocked and grinded against him.
He had to clench his teeth to keep from ripping her panties down and plunging into her ass right then and there. Outside the trailer for anyone to see.
He groaned again and tightened his grip around his hard-on, pumping into his fist as the lukewarm water rushed over his head, chest and everything else.
He’d been using her shampoo to jack off because it made his palm feel as silky as her pussy had been. How slick he wanted to make it again.
If she’d let him.
Which she wouldn’t.
Because she was stubborn as fuck, determined to not let them have more of what they had the other night.
Because she didn’t do “casual,” she only wanted steady. She couldn’t have steady if she had one foot out the fucking door.
But, for fuck’s sake, she’d do randoms. However, he didn’t count as a random because he lived in the same trailer with her.
He was damned either way he looked at it.
So, he had his fist, and the shampoo that smelled like her, and however long it took him in the shower to do himself what he wished he was doing with her.
With a hand splayed along the shower wall, he leaned into it and tipped his head down so the water wouldn’t sting his eyes or run into his gaping mouth.
His chest heaved, his heart raced and his breath chugged like a locomotive. His fingers flexed. Squeezed. Pumped. To the tip. To the root.
Over and over as he thrust inside her tight, hot pussy. The pressure in his groin increased as his orgasm built. Squeezing his eyes shut harder, he pictured Jemma in his mind’s eye. Naked and writhing under him as he fucked her hard enough her heavy tits rocked back and forth with each thrust. He stared at her face, her mouth parted, her eyelids heavy, her green eyes focused on him.
And only him.
She plucked, pulled and twisted her own nipples, teasing him. Tempting him to take one into his mouth. He thrust harder until he was buried to the root. Balls deep.
His thrusting ground to an abrupt halt as the bathroom door burst open.
What the fuck?
“I need to pee badly and you’re taking too long,” he heard yelled over the spray of the shower. “I couldn’t wait any longer. Just stay in the shower until I’m done.”
That wasn’t a problem. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Unless she invited him to her bed. Or to bend her over the sink.
His fingers remained frozen mid-stroke on his dick. “Jem...”
“I’ll only be a second.”
He lifted his head and noticed the curtain wasn’t pulled completely shut. A small gap existed between the plastic and the shower wall.
A gap that clearly showed part of the toilet.
Where Jem was settling her naked ass, her shorts down around her knees.
He only hoped she didn’t have the same view as he did.
That hope was quickly destroyed as she turned her head and looked right at him.
Fuck.
He was literally caught with his dick in his hand.
Her wide green eyes went from his face, when she realized he could see her pissing, down his chest, to what he was holding.
Fuck.
Her gaping mouth slammed shut and her eyes narrowed as she stared at his dick and said, “I’m assuming I won’t have any hot water to shower now that you’ve used it all up. You do realize the water tank in this thing only holds enough hot water for a ten-minute shower at most. You’ve been in here almost twenty. It can’t take that long to whack off. If it does, you need better jerk-off material.”
If she only fucking knew... “Can you get the fuck out so I can at least finish? You bitchin’ is ruinin’ my fantasy.”
His fantasy didn’t include Jemma being a bitch. No, in his memory she was pliable and willing, and begging him for his dick.
She took her time reaching between her legs to wipe. Then somehow she wiggled up her shorts so he wasn’t lucky enough to get the same view she was getting. As if in slow motion, she turned, put her hand on the toilet’s lever and twisted her head toward him.
“Don’t,” he growled.
She grinned and slammed the lever down.
When the water
temperature changed, he howled.
“How about not wasting water and doing it in your room with lotion and a sock like every other man in this zip code?”
“Jemma, get the hell out!”
She disappeared from view. “Or what?”
“Or get in the fuckin’ shower with me and help me finish, so I can stop wastin’ water.”
He waited for her answer and heard nothing but the shower running.
Did she leave?
The door slammed shut.
Her hesitation had only meant one thing...
She had considered his suggestion. He grinned.
He closed his eyes again and a few minutes later his load circled the drain.
A hard slap on his ass made him jump, shoot straight up and bean his head on the hood of the cage he was working on.
What the fuck!
“You got company, brother,” Rook told him with a grin.
He rubbed the top of his head. He didn’t need any more goddamn injuries. He grabbed the rag he had nearby and wiped his hands. “Who?”
“My niece and your house mouse.”
“Jesus fuck, don’t call her that if you value your nuts remainin’ attached to your fuckin’ body.”
Rook’s grin widened. “Ain’t that what she is? She makes your meals, cleans your pad, takes care of your snot monkey... Sounds like a fuckin’ house mouse to me. Only thing missin’ is her droppin’ to her knees when you tell her to. She probably ain’t interested in your inverted micro cock. Only pops out when you’re hard.”
Cage clenched his teeth and growled, “Shut the fuck up before she hears you and I have to knock you the fuck out.”
Rook chuckled. “Yeah, right. You knock me out. Name the last time that’s happened?”
Cage pulled his shoulders back and locked eyes with his brother. “Will put it on my fuckin’ calendar for when my ribs are fully fuckin’ healed.”
Rook sucked sharply at his teeth. “Lookin’ forward to it. Maybe we’ll make a fuckin’ bet to see who knocks out who first.”
Both of their heads cracked together without warning and they spun on their father. “Knock it the fuck off, you assholes. Told you, no fightin’ here. You do it again and you’re fired. Then you can go cryin’ to the mommy who left your asses about how you no longer have a job. Though, doubt she’s gonna care ‘cause she don’t give a shit about either of you.”
“Trip don’t want us fightin’ amongst ourselves,” Whip reminded them from the next bay over, standing under a Chevy up on the lift and watching the whole thing.
“Shut the fuck up,” Rook and Cage shouted at the same time.
They turned, glanced at each other and smiled.
“Asshole,” Rook grumbled, still grinning.
“You probably had yours stretched in prison,” Cage said. “Bet you can fit a whole fist up there with just a little bit of spit.”
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
“Will take your word for it. I prefer hot, tight pussy that doesn’t have hairy balls and a deep voice attached to it.”
“A dark room and some lube and you won’t be able to tell the fuckin’ difference.”
Cage faked a gag.
“How the fuck did you two come from my damn nuts?” Dutch grumbled, shaking his head. “Swear your momma took a couple loads in her snatch from someone else when I wasn’t lookin’.” He wandered out of the open bay door.
Cage followed his father as his old man headed toward Jemma’s Volvo parked next to his sled. She had the back hatch open and was removing the stroller and the rest of the baby paraphernalia.
Dutch practically pushed her out of the way, unfolded the stroller and set it up for her like he did it every day. Cage was impressed that his father was that good with that contraption. It had taken him a couple times and a few curses to figure it out.
“Where’s my grandbaby?”
“In the car seat, Dutch,” Jemma answered, her tone pretty much insinuating his father was a stupid ass.
Cage chuckled and opened the rear passenger door to the Volvo to see Dyna asleep in her seat. “There’s my little monkey girl,” he whispered.
It was fucking crazy. It had only been about four hours since he last saw her and he couldn’t believe how much he missed her. How much his heart swelled in his damn chest when he looked at his own daughter.
He wondered if Dutch had felt the same when he looked at him and Rook when they were babies.
He glanced at his grumpy old man. Nah.
He probably sat them out in the dirt with no diaper and gave them a stick and a rock to play with. To turn them into “real” men.
He unhooked the car seat from the base, carefully finagled it from the car, and carried it over to the stroller. He latched it in securely, all without waking the baby.
“She’s fuckin’ out,” he murmured.
“Yes, she’d been crying. As soon as I began driving, she was out. Keep that in mind for the future if she won’t settle.”
The future.
For when Jemma was gone.
His swollen heart deflated.
“That’s my Duchess,” his father boasted after reading today’s onesie.
Some Grandpas play Bingo
My Grandpa rides Motorcycles
A cartoon drawing of an old man with a long beard riding a sled divided the two sentences.
If that didn’t gain brownie points with his old man, nothing would. Might be a good time to ask for a fucking raise. For his grandbaby’s sake.
As Dutch reached to unbuckle Dyna from the car seat, Jemma stopped him. “Wash your hands first, Pap-Pap.”
The old man grumbled, “A little dirt ain’t gonna hurt my Duchess. Build up her immune system.”
“And what medical journal did you read that in?” she asked with a dark eyebrow arched.
Cage didn’t bother to hide his grin.
“Bah!” The old man flapped a dirty hand at her and stalked back inside, grumbling the whole way.
Cage stepped closer, leaned over and brushed a kiss over Dyna’s forehead. When he straightened, he tipped his head down and stared into Jemma’s face.
Neither said a word for a few long seconds. Probably because they were both reliving what happened in the bathroom this morning.
The thought of how that could’ve ended differently woke up his dick. He also didn’t miss her pupils dilate and her lips part the slightest bit.
Fuck yeah, she might be thinking the same thing.
He was surprised she came to the shop. He figured she’d want to avoid him like she’d been doing most of the time since the night it rained.
But here she stood, with her long brown hair sweeping around her bare shoulders, looking hot as fuck in black shorts that rode high on the soft thighs he wanted to feel gripping his hips. Sandals that showed off red-painted toes he wanted to suck. A sleeveless, blood red button-down blouse that emphasized her generous cleavage and showed way too fucking much of that soft flesh. She wore a little bit of makeup, but his eyes were drawn to her lips that matched her shirt. She was wearing fucking bright red lipstick. In the middle of the fucking day like she was ready to go to a bar or something.
What. The. Fuck.
“You trollin’ for random?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, here at the garage. Maybe you can watch your kid while Rook pins me down over the hood of a car and fucks me silly.”
He sucked in a deep breath to keep the grenade in his belly from exploding. She was fucking with him, but it didn’t matter. The thought of his asshole brother nailing Jemma made his blood pressure soar.
He unclenched his jaw. “That what you want? He ain’t so random.”
“I don’t have to live with him.”
She was trying to burst a vein in his head. Just trying to take him down and out for the count. “Jesus fuck, Jem.”
“Don’t ask a stupid question if you don’t want a stupid answer.”
“Ain’t the first time
my brother woulda taken what was mine.”
Her green eyes narrowed. “What was yours?”
“You know what I mean.” Fuck.
“I’m not yours, Chris.” She pointed to Dyna. “She’s yours.”
Like he needed that fucking reminder. He stopped grinding his teeth to ask, “Why you here?”
“Do I need a reason to bring your daughter to see her family?”
That wasn’t why she was here. “Nope. Why you here?”
She sighed and glanced toward the garage. “Reilly texted me and asked if I wanted to go to lunch.”
She smiled over his shoulder and Cage glanced that way. Reilly and Rook were coming out of the garage together, beelining toward them.
If his brother started sniffing around Jemma, they would both end up fired. He was not going to sit back and watch Rook fuck another woman Cage had his sights on. Or one he already fucked, like he had in the past.
Rook thought it was fucking funny when he could steal one of Cage’s women. Cage never found it so funny. Especially when Rook would use the excuse that he was doing Cage a favor by showing him what a “cheating bitch” she was.
Unfortunately, Rook wasn’t the only one using that excuse. It seemed to be the family motto.
Once when he was seventeen and had managed to nail a woman four years older, he came out of his room to check why it was taking her so long in the bathroom only to find her on her knees in the kitchen sucking off his father.
That time was the last time he brought any women home.
Dutch said—after the bitch swallowed his load, of fucking course—he hadn’t realized she’d come from Cage’s room. Like women just magically popped up in their kitchen to help him with his morning wood. As if Dutch was the Pied Piper of horny women just out there searching for stray hard-ons.
They’d almost come to blows.
But there’d been plenty of times when Cage and Rook had gotten into brawls over pussy. Until they remembered women weren’t worth fighting over. Then they’d wipe off the blood, put a bag of ice against a swollen eye or jaw, and go share a beer and a bowl.
It was one thing to share a sweet butt, it was another to share a woman who wasn’t.
Blood & Bones: Cage (Blood Fury MC Book 5) Page 19