HOPE TRILOGY BOX SET: Sacred Sinners MC- Texas Chapter

by Bink Cummings

  Kade’s nose crinkles in repugnance. “Fuck no, it doesn’t bother me. What pisses me off is that I’m just findin’ out about you and my nieces. And ever since last night, I keep wonderin’ what I can do to help ya. Even after ya leave here.”

  He’s a good man. I knew my gut was right. That’s one of the sweetest, most selfless things anyone has ever said to me.

  “We do fine on our own, Kade. You don’t gotta worry about us.” I try for sincere reassurance. Granted, I think it comes out half-assed because I’m hungry and still pretty tired.

  Those stern eyes meet mine, pinched between the brow. The corded muscles in his neck flex. It would be kinda sexy in its own way if he weren't so pissed off. “You’re not okay, Kat. Your dad fucks ya over. My brother fucks ya over. And it takes my pops havin’ to have a goddamn heart attack to even give two shits about you. That’s the furthest from okay. I’m not a nice guy. I’ve done a fuckuva lot of illegal shit. Hurt people without battin’ an eyelash. I’m an outlaw. Proud of it, too. But I was raised to respect all women. Even the club whores. I always lick their pussies ‘til they come. Then I get mine…”

  Sweet Mary, mother of God, I can’t believe he’s saying this stuff to me! I’m not fragile by any means, but I’ve never had a man, aside from Brent, speak so candidly about sex. Even though, I do it myself quite often. It’s driven all of my exes nuts. Well, that, and the fact that I wouldn’t have sex with them. Except Asshole, obviously.

  He keeps on, “So what I’m sayin’ is: you don’t know me. I don’t know you. But you’re never gonna be a burden to me. We’re family, so I’ve got your back. Tonight, when we go down to the party, there’s gonna be a fuckuva lot of tension. And a lot of people starin’, waitin’ for Ghost and Ryker to finish what they started last night before Pops and I peeled them off each other.”

  I arch a brow. “It was that bad?”

  He nods firmly. “Real fuckin’ bad. They pulled out their knives. I ended up havin’ to stitch both of their dumbasses.”

  “Are you a doctor?”

  “Not exactly.”

  He’s evasive, and I’m having none of that.

  “Are ya gonna tell me what you are, then? Or am I gonna have to guess? Because I don’t think you wanna hear my theory of you bein’ abducted by aliens and implanted with a super smart bug just so you can help pregnant women who pass out from low blood sugar.”

  Just as I was intending, he throws his head back and laughs. It’s a beautiful, booming sound that hits me in my chest, making me happier than I’ve been in a long time.

  There’s a knock at the door. “You better not be fuckin’ the guest in there, Kade!” a male hollers good-naturedly.

  “Fuck off, Creeper!” Kade half yells, half laughs, scrubbing the side of his cheek with his palm, smiling brightly—all teeth and sexiness. Women have to swoon at his feet. He’s just too damn handsome for his own good. Well, so is his brother. On the other hand Bre—Ryker knows how attractive he is, whereas Kade seems humble about it. It’s an endearing quality.

  “Bear said you need to feed her more than your puny dick. So get your horny asses dressed and come down and grab some grub,” the man adds.

  Inquisitive, I wanna ask if the club thinks we’re sleeping together since we’ve been holed up here for a while. However, before the thought passes completely through my brain, Kade is standing up and plopping himself closer to me on the bed. It dips as he takes a spot against the wall, feet up, our shoulders inches from touching. His heady scent drifts into my nose and burrows there, making certain female parts way too pleased. I squirm a little, mostly on the inside, but a little on the outside, too. The warmth of him is like a magnet. I want to press closer, but don’t.

  “Ignore Creeper. He’s just a pest. Nobody thinks I’m feedin’ ya my dick,” he reassures, unamused.

  “Good, ‘cause I hear it’s puny. And I’m partial to monster cocks. Or didn’t ya know?” I deadpan, pressing my lips together to keep from smiling. Even if my eyes give my amusement away.

  Another one of his charming laughs is music to my ears as Creeper, who apparently hasn’t left, yells through the door another time. “Get dressed, you horny fucker! Janet is comin’ tonight. You gotta save up a load or two. And ya know Ryker and Ghost will be out for blood if you bring her to dinner with cum stains on her pants.”

  “Will you cut it out?!” Exasperated, Kade shakes his head, amusement a thing of the past. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him balling and un-balling his fists in his lap. His knuckles drain of color, white pinching through as he clenches, then the tanned creaminess returns as he allows the blood to rush back in. Over and over, he does this as a low grumble percolates in his throat, sounding a whole lot like Brent when he was angry.

  Knowing I have to cut the irritation off at the pass before he gets carried away, I do what I do best and blurt the first idiocy that comes to mind.

  “Don’t worry, Creeper,” I speak loud enough so I know he’ll hear. “I’ll be sure to wear fresh clothes when we come down. Wouldn’t want the cum stains to make everyone jealous.”

  There’s a bark of laughter coming from the hallway as a smaller one rumbles beside me.

  “She’s got jokes!” Creeper cheers.

  “Careful, or he’ll be proposing marriage by dinner,” Kade teases in a whisper. His powerful hands flatten on the top of his thighs as his long, thick fingers fan outward.

  “I’m not worried.” Cheerfully, I bump my shoulder into his.

  He seems to ignore my friendly gesture when he shouts, “We’ll be down soon! Tell Pops to chill!”

  “Ya know he’s just worried that she won’t come out. That’s why he sent me up here.” Creeper’s tone is no longer full of fun and games. It’s all business. I like it better the other way.

  “I know. But he’s worryin’ about somethin’ he shouldn’t,” Kade declares.

  “Okay. If you’re sure. ‘Cause I’m under orders not to move until ya go get her clothes.”

  “They’re already in my closet. I got ‘em last night. I’ll let her get washed or whatever she wants. Then we’ll be down. You’re actin’ like a bunch of mother-hen bitches. We’ve had plenty of pregnant chicks in the clubhouse before.” Kade’s losing his patience again.

  “Not one that’s family,” Creeper replies, delivering a swift punch of marshmallowy joy to my soul. Family.

  Curiosity digs, clawing in deeper, and I open my mouth to ask more questions about this so called family, but stop myself when Creeper says, “Later.”

  Kade silently climbs off the bed, snatching my bag out of his closet. “Sorry. I forgot to tell ya ‘bout it earlier. Last night, I undressed ya ‘cause there was a shit ton of blood on your clothes. Even on your underwear and bra. I had to throw ‘em out. Didn’t wanna have to wrestle your unconscious body any more than I had to, so I slipped ya into one of my shirts. I promise I dressed you with dignity, and didn’t cop a single feel,” he rambles timidly with his head bowed, shielding his eyes as he sets my ancient duffle on the bed beside me. It’s the same bag my dad used to go on trips with. An oversized blue one with frayed handles and a hole in the bottom that I’ve had to patch four times. My mom gives me crap every time I use it. But it’s tradition, and I’m not about to break that for some fancy suitcase on wheels. Even if my back could use the relief.

  Grabbing the handle of my duffel, I yank it onto my lap, then pat the spot it vacated, hating the almost vulnerable way Kade is acting. The men in this family are way more emotional than any I’ve ever met before. When he doesn’t budge to rejoin me on the bed, I pat the cold spot once more. “I’m fine. We’re fine.” My tone is easy. “I’ve given birth to two children, Kade. My body isn’t a wonderland any more. It’s a battlefield. You seein’ me nude, which may not be ideal, doesn’t mean I’m angry about it. Do you realize how many people have seen me naked in my lifetime? A man taking care of me when I’m unconscious isn’t gonna be the end of my world.” My voice succeeds at delivering m
y peaceful speech, while my brain is screaming in horror at the mere thought of him seeing all of this ickiness unclothed. I can’t imagine the disgusted faces he probably made while performing his duty. It’s a damn good thing I was unconscious, so I didn’t get to see them. It wouldn’t be the first or last time a man has been repulsed by my stretch marks, overly broad hips, or breasts that are not as perky as they once were.

  Instead of glancing my way or responding to what I said, Kade walks over to his bathroom door and reaches inside to flip the light on. “You can take a shower whenever you’re ready. There are towels under the sink. I grabbed a new bar of soap for ya to use so you won’t be forced to use my body wash. We’ll head down to grab ya a bite after you’ve finished.” Stepping away from the illuminated doorway, Kade returns to his seat like he’s finished saying whatever it is he needs to and is waiting for me to comply. Not wanting to make this any weirder than it has to be, I do just that.

  Silently, I shove my duffle bag back onto the bed and pad my way to the bathroom. My nerves triple as the door clicks shut behind me, serving as a reminder of what’s to come. Soon, I will leave the comforting cocoon of Kade’s room, only to be slapped in the face with the reality that is now my life. I hope I can survive it, or that Ryker will let me.

  At least I’ll have my dad.

  The thought leaves me a tiny bit hopeful, while the rest of me dreads the impending turmoil that could possibly leave me stripped bare, scarred heart and all.

  “If you need anything, just holler!” Kade zaps me out of my thoughts, and I flip on the water to acclimate the scalding temperature I crave.

  “Thanks!” I call in return before stripping out of his shirt and welcoming myself into the perfect heat. A relaxed sigh bubbles to the surface as I let my worries melt away, even if it will only last a mere minute or two.

  Three

  PAST

  Our First Thanksgiving

  Plucking a piece of freshly carved turkey off the decorative plate in the middle of my dining room table, I offer it to Brent, who’s standing bare-chested a foot away. “Taste.”

  Dipping his head, eyes tilted upward, trained on my face, he takes a tentative nibble, grinning wickedly in my direction. A thrill races up my spine at that look. It’s one I know well. One that says my man is up to no good. Silently, he steals the rest of the turkey from my fingertips. Then, he’s on me. A big palm grabbing my ass makes me squeal as he propels us backward until my bottom hits the edge of the table. Not wasting a second, he effortlessly lifts me, placing my ass on the tabletop. My thighs spread open of their own accord, giving him space to step between. And he does.

  Shoving down the top of my cotton dress, a tiny rumble of pleasure percolates in his throat as he exposes the peaks of my breasts. Grinning triumphantly, all teeth and devastating handsomeness, he drops the turkey there, and my insides catch fire, quivering with anticipation. He is up to no good, and it’s glorious. Just like him.

  I swallow hard.

  “Turkey breast on my favorite breasts … there’s never been a better Thanksgiving,” he groans, bending forward to clean the food off before I can formulate a single thought past the shock that’s stunned me to near silence—aside from the moan that erupts when he drags the cups of my bra lower, baring my pert nipples.

  Blowing there, he flicks his tongue out, lashing one. I moan loudly, squeezing around his hips, drawing him closer to my core as I lean back onto my elbows, careful not to the crush the feast I’ve laid out. My dress ruches up on its own, pooling under my baby bump. Brent’s denim trapped cock settles against my panties; the fabric already soaked for him. I never knew sex could be this good for anybody. It’s all consuming, all the time.

  Wordlessly, Brent reaches over my head, and there’s a clank before his fingers draw back, coated in a thick, brown gravy. He smears it over both nipples, swirling around each bud, drawing a tiny groan from the depths of my soul.

  Licking his plump lips, his hungry gaze scalds my flesh. “I’m gonna enjoy eating our Thanksgiving dinner off your body.”

  “You’re gonna…” I’m breathless, chest sharply rising and falling.

  My clit weeps from neglect, needing him to touch me. To make me come. To fill me completely. Anything. I’m at his mercy. He can do whatever he pleases as long as he doesn’t stop. I want to tell him that, but don’t. Our feelings are something we never discuss. Although, I’m pretty sure he knows how I feel about him. It’s in my every touch, every kiss, every moan. I can’t hide them, even if I want to.

  Delicately laving the gravy off one nipple, then the next, he stops to look up at my face, an expression of adoration there. Jesus. I really do love this man. “Yes, my little Tiger. I’m gonna feast on your body. How many orgasms do you think I can give you today?”

  There’s a glimmer of cockiness in his eyes like he knows he’ll make me come fast and hard. It won’t take but a few touches. We both know this. It never does. What can I say? It’s impossible for me to resist. Which is what got us into this mess in the first place. Why my belly is swollen with his child. Why my heart is no longer mine, but his. Only his. Now and forever.

  Pressing kisses down one breast, through the deep valley between, then up the other, he takes his time tasting and teasing. Knowing damn well what this does to me. What it always does. He’s driving me mad.

  The quivering of anticipation takes over until I’m a puddle of pliant, horny need. He continues to lick and suck my nipples, one and then the next, tugging them between his teeth before giving me a moment's reprieve. I beg him to go lower, and he does, ever so slowly dragging my dress down, peppering kisses along the way.

  Exposing my bump, he delivers a lingering kiss there. It’s sweet and tender. A lump forms in my throat at the sight. “Hello, my baby. I’m so happy you’re in there. Daddy’s excited to meet you.” His lips skim lower, until he’s kneeling, mouth mere inches from my panties. “Take cover in there. Daddy doesn’t wanna poke ya in the head when he fucks Mommy on this table,” he whispers.

  Bracing myself on one arm, I slap the top of his skull hard enough that it echoes off the walls. “Your dick isn’t that big,” I tease.

  It’s true. He could be a foot long, and our child would still be fine. But … okay … he is huge. Like a good nine inches, and so thick, it hurts to spread my lips around it whenever he tries to fuck my mouth. I’d call it a monster cock, but that would inflate his ego even bigger. Which we don’t need. He’s got an ego large enough to fill the entire state of Indiana.

  Another kiss is pressed to the underside of my belly as his hands clamp on my thighs, draping them over his wide shoulders. “You’re killin’ me, my little Tiger. Gonna give my dick an inferiority complex.”

  A giggle catches fire in my chest, and my eyes roll at the ridiculousness. Amused, my lips tip into a slight grin. “You’re so full of it, Brent.”

  Shrugging his shoulders, my legs lift and fall with the movement. His mouth settles closer, a moist heat wafting over my cotton covered core. He mocks a hurt groan. “Now you’re laughin’ at my dick. That’s not right, babes. Not right at all. You don’t wanna make me cry, do ya?”

  Knowing he's not serious, even if his tone suggests that he is, I sit up and shove his face into my aching pussy. A genuine groan vibrates there as he pokes his tongue out to taste me, circling my clit over the fabric. My head lulls back at the intense pleasure. “Yes,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

  Brent’s mouth sucks over the cotton, soaking it in its entirety before he pulls away, heaving for air. I can’t believe he’s just as turned on by this as I am. God. I’m never gonna get enough of him. Ever. “Pass me the cranberry sauce,” he commands, sounding like he’s swallowed a cup of gravel.

  Eager to see what he has up his sleeve, I do what he asks and offer him the bowl of homemade cranberry sauce with shaky hands. It’s not as thick as the canned kind. It’s better. He places his palm up for me to set it in, so I do. The quietness of the room, aside from our breathin
g, sparks goosebumps over my frame as I listen intently to the bowl clanking on the hardwood floor when it’s set there. My insides somersault excitedly at the thought of what he’ll do next. I can’t wait! He’s always keeping me guessing. Last week, we had sex in the bathtub—me riding him, water lapping at our sides. At first, I didn’t think I’d like it. Then, when he controlled me from the bottom, thrusting into my depths, I was a goner. Coming at least five times, I panted and mumbled, melting into a deliriously sated mess. Afterward, I clung to him as he carried my spent body from the tub, dried me off, and took me to bed. Where we cuddled for the rest of the night. It was romantic. Even if he didn’t think so.

  A finger hooks into my panties, pushing the soppy fabric to the side. Cool air mixing with the warmth of his mouth lingering inches away from my flesh, makes me squirm. I bite my lip.

  “I’m gonna eat cranberry sauce off this pussy…” His tongue flicks the tip of my inflamed clit, and I wail a wanton cry, legs vibrating with desperation. “You’re gonna come for me five times, Kat, and I’m not gonna stop ‘til ya do. Only then will I reward ya with my cock. Do ya understand?” He’s as calm as the most deadly storm.

  I nod frantically to answer his question. Yes. Yes. I understand, and I can’t wait.

  “Tell me,” he demands, scraping his scruff along the inside of my thigh. It burns in the most delicious of ways.

  “I—I—” Damn it. My legs won’t stop shaking. I’m a mess already. Even my pussy is dripping. Nipples desperate for more attention, my trembling hands lift to twirl them between my fingers. A shock wave of ecstasy flashes to my pussy. I moan, swiveling my hips, desperate for any attention. I need more before I die, or go crazy. God! Why won’t he give it to me?!