Dillon's Universe: A Perdition MC Novel

by Isabel Wroth

  The look he gave her when she came to him carrying his cut made a shiver of excitement race through her. Helping him to shrug it on, reaching up to smooth her hands down over his shoulders to settle the vest, felt weirdly important. Almost as intimate as undressing him.

  She moved around to his front, trailing her fingertips down his shoulder, the swell of his bicep, along the stark black lines of ink tattooed into his forearm.

  Dillon couldn’t have possibly withheld her smile, or the flip of her stomach when he turned his palm up, waiting for her to take his hand.

  Their hands fit like puzzle pieces, their fingers tangled together, and her heart did a righteous impression of a pin ball inside her chest as she watched him lift her knuckles to his mouth to kiss each one.

  “How about pancakes?”

  “Only if you're cooking,” she answered, feeling the brilliance of his smile all the way to the tips of her toes.

  He kissed her hand again and led the way up the stairs, dancing slightly to one side as Elka rushed past, giving Nasa a glare over her shoulder at the top landing, as if saying, 'Hey, asshole. You know the rules. I go through the door first.'

  *****

  The heat outside smacked her in the face, sweat instantly popping out on her skin. It felt like walking through a sauna, but Elka ran around in circles around the training yard a few times, snapping and chasing the butterflies before getting down to business.

  Back inside the wonderfully chilly compound, Nasa tightened his grip on her once he noticed Duke and Tobias were seated at the kitchen island.

  Tobias had just shoved a huge spoonful of cereal into his mouth when he heard them come in. A dribble of milk ran down his chin, frozen mid-movement with a look of uncertainty on his face.

  For the first time since seeing Tobias outside her house, Dillon’s stomach didn't twist. Her throat didn't close up in panic, and her extremities didn't go cold as Dillon's fight or flight response amped up.

  Tobias still had his cast on, and situated like he was, he looked like a chipmunk with his cheeks full of cereal.

  “Good morning,” she said calmly, glad to see the tension bleed out of his shoulders. Tobias did the best he could to conceal his relief, grunting in answer as he chewed and swallowed.

  Duke wasn't so circumspect. “Y'all look like Ken and Viking Barbie.”

  Nasa pulled a chair out for her at the bar—an empty seat between her and Duke—taking a moment to tip her face up to scrutinize her expression.

  She had a feeling if he'd seen any hint of discomfort or uneasiness, Nasa would have sent her back downstairs or kicked the commandos out of the kitchen. She guessed he was satisfied with what he saw because he let her go with a kiss to her forehead.

  “My dick is bigger than that hunk of plastic,” Nasa told Duke, and while Dillon could confirm, she kept her mouth shut.

  “Course it is,” Duke agreed. “But that's not saying much; Ken has no dick. Veracruz owes me a hundred, by the way.

  "I knew you two would start bangin' eventually. You're not junkless like a real Barbie, right babe? I mean, you can't be if y'all are umpin buglees, but inquiring minds wanna know.”

  Immediately, Nasa lashed out to grab Duke by the collar and yank him halfway over the counter. He held the heavy cast iron skillet in his free hand, his eyes cold as arctic ice. Dillon could honestly say she hadn't ever seen anyone move so fast or so smoothly.

  “You do not call my woman 'babe,' and you do not ask her questions like that. Ever. Got it?”

  Dillon definitely should not have been turned on by Nasa's aggression. She'd spent a good portion of her life avoiding men who threatened to hurt other people, and yet she sat there trying not to squirm as she quivered with arousal.

  Duke seemed completely unconcerned, his voice never changed in inflection, and it didn't seem to bother him that the milk from his cereal bowl was quickly spilling into his lap.

  “No questions about your lady's junk or callin’ her babe. Got it. What's for breakfast, chief?”

  “I'm making Dillon lemon ricotta pancakes.” Nasa let go of Duke, giving him a short shove back into his seat that made his cereal bowl clatter. “You can fuck off after you clean up your mess.”

  “But I'm still hungry,” Duke practically whined. He turned huge puppy dog eyes on her, looking so pathetic Dillon had suck in her cheeks and bite down to keep from laughing at him.

  “I'm sorry for asking about your vagina. I don't even care whether you've got one or not. I swear! I'll be good, I promise. You believe me, right?”

  Tobias gave another expressive, manly grunt, and Dillon decided it wasn’t just bikers who thumped their chests and communicated via grunting.

  “Don't listen to him. His brain-to-mouth filter is completely nonexistent, and he will most definitely ask you about your vagina at some point in the future.”

  “Not if he wants to keep his testicles attached to his body,” Nasa stated blithely, as though commenting on the weather.

  “Hey, asshole, you're supposed to be on my side,” Duke bitched, punching Tobias in the shoulder.

  Tobias responded by whacking Duke in the forehead with his spoon. “I am on your side, Himbo. But you've got your whole goddamn foot in your mouth. I don't know where you think you're gonna put pancakes.”

  “Who's making pancakes?” Ruckus appeared, as though summoned by magic, quickly followed by Gee. Then another guy Dillon had seen around but wasn't familiar with, Frankie.

  Nasa scowled darkly at all of them, muttering under his breath about rethinking a small kitchen down in the basement.

  A chime came from the watch on his wrist, which made Nasa bang the skillet down on the range and reach for a cabinet beside the big fridge.

  It pulled open to reveal a large computer screen with split images, showing a multitude of angles outside.

  A tap to the screen and they all saw Ever driving up in her beetle green Jeep, half out the window shaking her fist at Roar who rode ahead of them on his Harley.

  “Fuck me,” Nasa snapped, slamming the cabinet closed to open another one, hefting out a pair of waffle irons.

  “They're still gonna be lemon whatever, right?” Duke asked hopefully.

  Nasa shot a rather frigid glare his way in answer. “Only if you're doing the dishes.”

  Duke looked crestfallen. “Dishes are for girls!”

  “And you wonder why you're still single.” Tobias sighed, pointedly getting up to wash his spoon and cereal bowl out in the sink.

  “If you're cookin', I'll do the dishes,” Gee volunteered, then turned a less than impressed look on Duke. “‘Cause dishes are definitely not just for girls.”

  Ruckus bounced his head in time to music only he could hear. “True that, brother. I'll help clean up.”

  Nasa heaved a defeated sigh. “Fine, fine. Better set the table while you're at it. Roar obviously forgot Ever has inventory to do today at the nursery.”

  On cue, a door opened somewhere close by, and Roar could be heard getting his ass chewed out by his wife.

  Despite the racket, Dillon found herself enjoying the craziness of the morning. A hairy golden retriever came skipping into the kitchen alongside Lyon, who announced himself with a loud whoop.

  “Mornin, bishes! Oooh! Unka, you makin' waffuhs!?” Like a magnet, Lyon latched onto Nasa's leg, wide-eyed with the same exuberant hope as Duke. “I'm starvin’! Mama only made us toast, and I'm gonna die if I don't get some waffuhs!”

  Nasa shook his leg like he was trying to dislodge Lyon, who cackled and held on with arms and legs like a monkey, his happy giggles filling up the kitchen.

  “Well, I guess if you're gonna die…” Nasa answered with dubious reluctance. “Go help Ruckus and Gee set the table.”

  Elka's warning growl tore Dillon's gaze away from Lyon's adorable attack on Nasa's leg to see Ever's dog go belly-up in answer to Elka's rebuke.

  His fluffy blond tail wagged ten miles an hour, he had all four paws in the air, his body curved in a
half circle so he could lick at Elka's leg.

  Elka looked absolutely disgusted. Her lip curled up to expose her teeth, and she even went so far as to lift her leg up out of the line of fire, but it only made Ever's dog wiggle and writhe like a worm to have at her hip.

  “Looks like Nasa isn't the only one with a hard on for bad bitches.” Ruckus chortled. “Watch out now, Squatch. She'll take your nuts off.”

  “Squatch don't have any nuts,” Lyon announced, coming around with a roll of paper towels under each arm. “Daddy calls him the nutless wonder. Hi, Dilly! We havin’ waffuhs for beffast!”

  The little boy's cuteness was too much. “Hi, Lyon. I better help out so you don't starve.”

  “I sure would ah-peeshate it, I wanna grow up biggin stong like Unka Nasaw, wight?” Lyon beamed up at Nasa, who shot him a wink as he grated the rind of a lemon.

  “That's right.”

  Dillon got up to help Nasa get the ingredients together for the waffle batter, falling into sync alongside him.

  It wasn't long before the entire kitchen smelled of vanilla, yeast, and lemons. At one point, Roar came in and handed his daughter to Frankie, then strolled out with a grin on his face.

  Frankie waited until Lyon was out of earshot before bouncing Harper on his hip. “It's a good thing Roar got neutered, otherwise we'd be overrun with kids. Two'a them can't keep their damn hands off one another.”

  Frankie reached out to snitch one of the waffles, and quick as a flash, Nasa smacked his hand with a spatula. “Don't even think about it.”

  Harper laughed like Frankie getting whacked was the funniest thing she'd ever seen, so Nasa did it again, whipping out to smack Frankie's arm. Harper went wild, bending backward, chubby cheeks round and rosy, giggling like crazy.

  “Quit teaching her to be so violent,” Frankie grumbled, fighting his grin.

  Nasa tore off a tiny piece of waffle and fed it to Harper, who then made grabby hands for him to take her.

  “The world needs a few more badass women, don't they, sweetheart? Yeah.”

  Nasa put his spatula down to take her from Frankie, giving her diapered butt a pat when she wrapped her chubby arms around his neck.

  Nasa seemed perfectly capable to continue working with one hand, talking softly into Harper's ear, doting on her by feeding her more bits of waffle.

  The little girl absolutely adored him, and Dillon would be lying if she said she didn't feel the same way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “That poor dog is dumber than a box of rocks.”

  Dillon shaded her eyes and looked up at Top, still wearing his thick sweatshirt out in the summer heat.

  Lyon had a bright blue gadget in his hands that let him chuck a tennis ball for Elka twice as far as he'd normally be able to.

  Elka loved playing fetch, but Squatch didn't quite get the gist. Elka would run after the ball every time Lyon chucked it, and Squatch would haul ass to keep up, completely ignoring the ball as he ran back and forth alongside Elka.

  “At least he's pretty,” Dillon chuckled, stretched out on a lounge chair to make room for her stomach.

  She'd eaten so much her belly hurt, but damn, it was worth it. She'd never tasted anything so good as Nasa's lemon ricotta waffles.

  He still had Harper, only now she was sitting on his shoulders, her fists twisted in his hair, her legs completely swallowed in Nasa's grip.

  “Yeah, s'pose so. I finally got some intel back from one of my contacts in Dallas. Your pink-haired girl's name is Rachel Sterling. She's fifteen, ran away from her foster home at thirteen. Got all her background info coming from my guy at DPD.”

  “Rachel,” Dillon repeated softly, finally putting a name to the face. “I knew she was younger than nineteen but not by that much. God.”

  “Nasa tells me you helped him get a handle on us having two Ghosts.”

  “We talked after I had another nightmare. Whatever I said got that genius brain of his going and sorted through my rambling until he came up with pupil distance.”

  “That happens a lot with him,” Top confided. “You been having nightmares a lot?”

  Dillon's smile felt brittle, but there was no use denying it anymore. “Off and on for ten years, but it's been happening every night since Ghost came to my house.”

  “Nothin' in the world worse than being afraid to go to sleep at night.” Top sighed, gingerly lowering himself into the chair beside her like his entire body hurt.

  “Happened a lot after I got back from 'Nam. The stuff I seen and did over there, stuff that was done to me, what happened when we finally left that shit hole, only to come back to a home that felt every bit as hostile as the jungle we just left?

  “I didn't sleep right until I joined up with my first MC, the Baytown Bruisers. It was good to have boys who understood what I was goin' through.

  "Nasa don't much care for seein' the people he cares about sufferin', so I'm glad you shared that burden with him. You give any more thought to what we talked about?”

  Dillon nodded, watching Nasa dance from side to side to avoid Lyon wildly swinging the ball chucker like a baseball bat.

  Harper had two fistfuls of Nasa's shaggy blonde hair, bouncing and giggling as she enjoyed riding atop her gigantic pony.

  “A lot, but I'm not...” she trailed off, not sure what else to say.

  “But you're still not sure whether or not you're gonna stick around,” Top finished easily. “Is it his shit or your shit holdin' you up?”

  She sighed, drawing her legs up to rest her chin on her knees, hugging her shins despite the pressure it put on her full belly. “It's not like I have anything to go back to. My therapist is singing his praises, you're telling me he's changed since I got here, and I know I've changed, but I feel like someone should be telling me not to make big emotional decisions in a high stress situation.”

  Top started to chuckle. “Life is too fuckin' short, and if you're feelin' stress, well, maybe Nasa failed to wake you up on the right side of the bed.”

  Dillon spluttered, her cheeks hot with embarrassment as she tried to figure out how Top knew what she'd been up to last night.

  Was it that obvious? She almost reached up to her neck to feel for hickeys.

  “I'm old, darlin', not blind, and my boy thinks you hung the moon. Only a matter of time before he got down to business.” Top winked at her, pushed to his feet, and sauntered off.

  A shadow fell over her, and Dillon looked up to find Nasa right in front of her. She hadn't even finished lifting her hand to shade her eyes before he shifted his stance to completely block out the glare.

  “You good?” His frown was deep with concern, but he kept rubbing and squeezing at Harper's chunky toddler legs, holding her steady no matter how she squirmed and wiggled.

  Dillon let out the breath she'd been holding, feeling that effervescent wave relief come back to wash away her anxiety. It was him. Nasa’s proximity, his enormous looming presence.

  “Yeah. Did I tell you I have a bad habit of overthinking things?”

  Nasa's lips canted up in a crooked smirk. “Is that what you're over here doing?”

  “I was, but Top reminded me life is too short and suggested if I'm feeling stressed out, maybe I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

  Nasa’s eyebrows slid up slowly as his smile deepened. “He said that, huh?”

  “Sure did.”

  “You feel like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” Nasa barely winced when Harper shrieked and yanked on his hair, demanding action from her pony.

  Dillon tipped her head from side to side. “I feel like I had the best night’s sleep ever. I'm a little sore, and I can't wait to do it all over again.”

  “How sore?” Nasa asked immediately, reaching down to offer his hand.

  Without a second thought, Dillon took hold and let him help her to her feet. Nasa pulled her in with his arm around her waist.

  “Sore, like I spent the night wrapped around an extremely well-endowed man
after not having had sex in a decade,” she whispered, feeling self-conscious about Lyon overhearing when he came tearing past with another ball to chuck.

  Nasa grunted, giving her a squeeze before reaching down to palm her butt. “I never made good on that bath I promised you. Come downstairs, I'll fix that right now.”

  Dillon went up on her toes and touched a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You've kinda got your hands full; I can wait.”

  He gave an incredulous scoff, keeping his grip on her butt as he half turned and shouted at Lyon. “Hey, killer! Put that Chuck-It away. I got the new Grand Theft Auto on the X-Box for you.”

  “Aw-wite!” Lyon whooped, calling the dogs to follow him inside.

  Nasa dropped a kiss on her hair and tugged her into motion. “I'll call for reinforcements on these little monsters, and then I'll run you a bath, no problem.”

  Dillon slid her arm around him and bit back the urge to tell him she could run herself a bath, understanding he was insisting because he had every intention of following through on his promises. Making sure she wasn't in pain was important to him.

  *****

  After getting Lyon set up with his game, Nasa tagged Roar for the hand off so he could take care of Dillon.

  Despite the fact a shit ton of work waited for him, Nasa couldn't pass up the opportunity to give her his complete focus.

  She needed a bath to soothe her aches, and of course, he wanted her as relaxed as possible.

  “C'mere, Tiger Lily,” he murmured, reeling her in by the grip he had on her ass, curling his other hand around her jaw to hold her steady for a kiss.

  He kept at it until Dillon sagged against him, gripping at his cut with both hands.

  “Now, scale of one to ten, how sore are you? Be honest.”

  Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at him in a daze, her voice husky with desire. “Um… a uh... like a five. Maybe a seven if I sneeze.”

  “Poor baby,” he crooned. “I should definitely kiss it better before your bath, hmm?” Nasa could see the anticipation light up her eyes, making the gold surrounding her irises flare brighter.

  “Yes, please.” That breathless little please was sure to get her whatever the hell she wanted, anytime, anywhere. He sank back into her kiss as he walked her backward toward the bed, urging her to kick off her sneakers.