I suddenly had a whole helluva lot of reasons to get better.
Groggy, I looked around to see what had woken me. That was one of the bad things about the fucking pills. It was like being in a fog when I woke up.
Then I heard it again. A cry, but not from Tristan.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I waited for the room to settle before I got up. I’d finally gotten the brace off and was set to start physical therapy. I’d cut the pain pills back to one before I went to bed.
Once I knew I wouldn’t be weaving and holding the wall, I started toward Avery. Her door was closed, so I knocked softly. I didn’t want to wake Tristan. I’d finally gotten her to put him in his own room, and he was sleeping through the night like a champ. Well, mostly.
When she didn’t answer but I heard her whimper, I opened the door. Avery was thrashing in the bed with her sheets and blanket tangled around her legs. The small nightlight she always had on cast enough light that I could see her face contorted in fear.
“Avery,” I whispered, but she didn’t respond to me.
Without thinking, I gently shook her to try to get her to wake up. When her eyes popped open, they appeared unfocused, and her chest was heaving. Her hand shot out and clutched my bad arm. I winced slightly, because her nails dug in.
Blinking, she took a shuddering breath. “Gunny?”
“Yeah. You were having a bad dream,” I explained why I was standing by her bed in the middle of the night.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” She bit her lip and appeared worried. Her dark hair was a wild mess around her, but she looked beautiful. I wanted to climb into bed with her and wrap her in my arms something fierce.
“It’s okay,” I started, but then I heard another noise. This time it was coming from the living room. Instantly on alert, I held a finger in front of my lips to tell her to be quiet. She froze, but her eyes were wide.
“Stay here,” I whispered.
Quietly, I padded out to the living room. Slowly opening the drawer on the TV cabinet, I pulled out one of the pistols I had stashed around the house. I’d have to secure them soon, but for now I went back to searching out the noise.
First, I paused along the wall. The rattling sound was coming from the front of the house, the side that faced the trees. My adrenaline kicked into high gear. When I went to investigate, the sound came closer. It had moved to outside the living room window. Moving quietly but silently, I used a single finger to pull the curtains forward enough that I could see outside.
A dark figure was hunched in front of the window, prying off the screen.
Rushing to the door, I chambered a round, flung the door open, and burst outside. The man startled and spun to face me. With his face obscured in the shadows, all I could tell was he was tall and bearded. “Don’t fucking move!” I demanded.
He raised his hand, and the moonlight caught the gun he had pointed at me. Fear that he might shoot toward the house and hit Avery or Tristan had me jumping off the back side of the deck and crouching down. From under the deck, I could see his legs, but he was already hauling ass.
“Motherfucker!” He put me in a dilemma. The door was wide open. Avery and Tristan were in the house unprotected. Not wanting to run after him in case he wasn’t alone, I growled in irritation. Then I cautiously made my way back inside. I’d put the screens back on in the morning.
After locking the door, I checked on Tristan, who was sleeping soundly in his corral. I should’ve known Avery wouldn’t have listened to me. She was wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor by Tristan’s bed.
Shaking my head, I whispered, “You see anything?”
She shook her head with nervous eyes.
“I’ll be right back.” After a sweep of the house revealed everything was clear and all the windows and doors were secure, I returned to Tristan’s room and reached out. She placed her hand in mine, and I tugged to help her to her feet. Except I tugged a little harder than I intended and the momentum carried her body into mine.
Instinct had me reaching out to steady her as she wobbled. Chest to knees, we leaned on each other. My breath caught for a moment before I assured her, “Everything’s okay for now. Whoever it was is gone. I checked the windows, and they’re all locked. No sign of anyone outside.”
“O-Okay,” she stuttered. Pushing herself off me, she pressed her palms to my chest. The heat of her hands on my skin reminded me I’d been sleeping in only my boxer briefs.
“Come on.” I motioned for her to return to bed. She gave a hesitant glance at Tristan and then at his window.
“Maybe I could sleep in here on the floor,” she offered.
“Unless you’ve opened his windows, they’re locked. I checked before we set this up as his room.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief. “Good. Thank you,” she murmured.
Following her to her room, I tried my damnedest to avoid watching the perfect jiggle of her ass. The shorts she was wearing were worn extremely thin, which showcased that jiggle and short-circuited my brain.
She climbed in bed and drew the covers up to her chin. She looked incredibly young at that moment. It had me trying to remember how old she was. If I remembered correctly, she was about twenty-five or -six.
“Um, Gunny?” she asked, then bit her lip.
“Yeah?”
“Would you, uh, maybe want to, I mean, would you consider staying in here tonight?” She swallowed hard, and I realized she was trembling under the covers.
“Are you worried?” I asked, surprised.
“Kind of,” she admitted. Unsure, I ran a hand through my hair and let out a tense breath. Fuck, yes, I wanted to sleep with her. Except I wanted to do more than sleep.
“Be right back,” I finally said as I returned to my room for my phone. I shot off a quick group text to the brothers in our messaging app, letting them know what had happened. Then I returned to her room and set my phone on the nightstand with my gun.
Telling myself I was a fucking fool, I climbed under the covers and settled on my back. Carefully resting my arm over my head, I stared at the ceiling. It was doubtful I’d be able to get back to sleep.
Especially considering shortly after she’d dozed back off, she rolled in my direction and cuddled into my side. Not cool.
The next several hours were the worst kind of torture. Her hair splayed across my arm, and her soft puffs of breath feathered over my chest. My arms longed to wrap around her all night. My dick longed to be buried in her heat.
Closing my eyes to rest as best as I could, I jolted awake again when something brushed against my painfully erect length. Afraid to move in case I woke her up, I held my breath. Torn between not wanting to deal with the awkwardness and the desire to thrust into her hand, I remained still. I slowly let out the air I’d been holding in.
“Shit,” I muttered softly under my breath when she arched, pressing her big, beautifully perfect tits against me. When her nose began to nuzzle into my chest, I gritted my teeth. That promise I made not to fuck her when she moved in was slipping further and further away. I’d tried to be good, but I knew better.
The need to flip her over, drop my waistband, and plunge into her tight, wet heat was becoming excruciatingly hard to resist. I’d wanted to give her more time. I’d wanted to be at one-hundred percent. Hell, I could barely grasp anything in my left hand, and Lord knew I wanted to be able to grab so many luscious parts of her.
But fucking A, she was all but holding my junk in her hand, and I wanted to fuck her then and there. Screw the consequences.
When she lifted her head and sleepily blinked, I prayed she’d lie back down and go back to sleep yet wished she wouldn’t. It was obvious the proximity of our bodies wasn’t registering, because her gaze kept wandering over me. Gray-blue eyes stared at my chest, focused on the barbell through my nipple.
“Avery?” I tentatively whispered. Instead of answering me, she dropped down and fucking licked my nipple.
Licked. My.
Fucking. Nipple.
Then her white teeth tugged on it, and I damn near came in my underwear. “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” I gasped out.
The slender hand that had rested next to my dick and balls cupped them, and I stiffened. Stroking slowly over the fabric, her hand curled around my length. Any question as to whether she was awake was obliterated when she suddenly rose and straddled my hips. The thin fabric of her bottoms and my boxer briefs was no match for the heat of her pussy. It was driving me out of my goddamn mind.
“Avery,” I said in warning. It took a supreme amount of willpower to keep my hands to myself. Because I really didn’t want to, but it seemed wrong to allow her to make a decision while she was half awake. Oh, and after she’d asked me to stay with her out of fear.
Holding eye contact, she ground against my stiff cock. Her full lips parted, and her hair slipped over her shoulder to fall over her breast. The one that remained by her silky hair was straining against the fabric of her tank top, the nipple poking toward me.
“Don’t you want me?” she asked in a sleep-sultry tone.
“Jesus fuck.” I lifted my hips for emphasis. “Does it feel like I don’t want you?”
Her eyes became hooded, and she moaned as she rolled her hips again, making my dick jump. With each movement, her back arched, and the hidden nipple emerged from the curtain of her hair. My good hand tightly gripped her hip. With the other hand, I reached behind her neck and pulled her down until her lips met mine. My tongue slid into her mouth, and I groaned at the taste of her that I’d been dying for.
My hands slipped up the back of her top, and I relished the silken smooth planes of her skin. Our kiss deepened and she moved her hips in mimicry of fucking me. Her fingers tangled in my hair and tugged.
I bit her bottom lip and thrust against her covered pussy. Her breathless moan had my rock-hard cock jumping. I wanted to be against her bare skin more than I wanted my next breath. My good hand slid around her rib cage to cup her breast.
Lush was what came to mind when I thought of her beautiful curves.
Goddammit, she’s mine. No matter how much we’d tried to fight it and how we’d ended up together in the first place, she was definitely mine.
Right when I was ready to say fuck it and rip her shirt over her head to suck her nipples deep in my mouth, she froze. Jerking upright, she sat stock-still. Her lips were kiss swollen, and her tits strained against the soft fabric of her tight tank top.
Amazed, I watched as wet spots formed on the front of her shirt over the peaks of her breasts. She groaned in frustration and climbed off me and went out the door. It was then that I realized Tristan was crying.
What the actual fuck?
The thought of my son was enough to kill the hard-on that had been raging all night. My son, the world’s smallest cockblocker. Maybe I’d start calling him TC—Tiny Cockblocker. Something told me Avery wouldn’t appreciate that.
Readjusting my junk, I padded into Tristan’s room. Knowing she was likely feeding him, I bravely entered the den of boobies. She was sitting in a rocking chair I remembered her telling me she’d picked up at a garage sale while I’d been gone. Speaking quietly to Tristan as he clutched her boob and suckled, she looked stunning.
Before, I’d never understood people talking about how a woman breastfeeding was a beautiful thing. To me, it was always about the tits. Especially hers. Except this time, I found that while the sexual draw was still there, I could definitely appreciate the concept. Dim light from the small lamp on the dresser highlighted the reddish tones in her dark hair and softly lit her features. It was one of the most amazing scenes I’d ever seen.
“Hey,” she said with a serene smile as she looked up to where I stood leaning on the doorjamb. “I’m sorry about that.” The flush on her cheeks was barely visible in the dim light, but it made her even more attractive, if that was possible.
At the same time, the realization that she was too good for me settled heavily in the pit of my stomach.
My chest ached, and I reached up to rub the deep pang. She watched my movements as she cradled our son to her breast. I’d made a promise to her, and no matter how badly I wanted her, I needed to stop thinking with my dick. The problem was, I didn’t really want to. I wanted to bury it inside her, hard and deep.
She needed someone to take care of her and our son. After the night before, that was more evident than ever—I could be that man, but would it be the best thing for her and Tristan?
“It’s no sweat. It was probably for the best,” I said without emotion. Then I gave her a tight smile and returned to her room to grab my phone and gun. Before I could tempt myself by going back in with her, I went to my room and closed the door. Leaning against it, I lightly banged my head back into it.
Dropping the gun on my bed, I checked my phone. There was a message about twenty minutes ago from Smoke that said to call him ASAP. Without wasting a minute, I called him.
“Gunny” was his immediate response when he picked up. “What the fuck happened, and why didn’t you just call me last night instead of sending a message?”
I sighed. “Because it may have been a simple prowler.”
“But you don’t think it was, do you?”
“It didn’t feel like it. I’m not exactly in the middle of town. My ‘neighborhood’ is a group of trailers in a row. A mini trailer park, for fuck’s sake. Though they’re new trailers, it’s not like any of us scream money. All my neighbors have modest cars, nothing flashy. And people know I’m a member of the Demented Sons. People don’t fuck with my shit.” Somehow I knew it was connected to whatever had been plaguing the club. No, I didn’t have any concrete proof of it; only my gut instinct.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Okay, I’m sending Radar and Slice over there to check shit out with you. Have you been back outside since last night?”
“Negative.”
“All right, they’ll be over there soon. After y’all are done, I want everyone at the clubhouse. If you don’t want to leave her there alone, bring Avery and Tristan to my place. Nova and Mattie would love to spoil them.” He huffed out a deep breath, and I knew he was getting tired of all the stupid crap going on.
Hell, we all were.
“Famous Last Words”—My Chemical Romance
Two of the guys from the club, Radar and Slice, showed up at the house after I’d finished feeding Tristan. The three of them went outside and wandered around the house for a long time. While they were out there and Tristan was playing quietly in his bed, I hopped in the shower.
As the hot water relaxed my tense muscles, I closed my eyes as the memories from earlier filled my head. The feel of him under me, the heat of his skin, the steeliness of his length as it fit along my needy crease. God, I wanted him in the worst way.
Tempted to touch myself to the visual of his hard body beneath me, I shoved my head under the water to rinse my hair. I was being stupid, because for some reason, I sensed that though he wanted me, he at the same time didn’t. For the last few weeks he’d helped me the best he could with Tristan, and he’d been thoughtful, but he hadn’t really been present.
Maybe he needed a push. The thing was, I didn’t know what else to do. Hell, I’d literally climbed on him and dry-humped him like a teenager that morning. If Tristan hadn’t woken up and triggered my boobs to leak, I knew we’d have finished what we started.
Shutting off the water, I reached out, grabbed my towel, and dried off. Pausing in front of the mirror, I wiped the steam off and stared at the slightly distorted image. God, what if the only reason he’d made out with me was because he was imagining I was Raiven?
I wondered if I should talk to him about her.
Chewing on my lip, I contemplated my next move.
Because there would be one. I only had to figure out what it would be.
A loud knock on the door startled a squeal out of me.
“Avery! You decent?” Gunny said through the door.
“Uh, not really. What’s up?”
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“You wanna go hang with Nova and Mattie?”
Opening the door far enough so I could peek at him, I frowned. “Okay? What are you doing?”
“Club shit. You want me to give you a ride over there?” he asked, but it sounded more like a statement. His eyes stayed locked on my face, though I knew he had to have noticed the cleavage created from the towel smashing my boobs together.
“Umm, sure.” The thought of staying at the house alone was not appealing. That night had shaken me, but I didn’t want to admit it.
“I need to be out of here soon. Can you be ready?” Still he held my gaze, never dropping below my chin.
“Yeah, can you give me about fifteen minutes?” He nodded and walked away. Huffing a frustrated sigh, I went to my room.
A pair of cutoffs, a tank top, and my hair piled up on my head was all it took for me to be ready. Tossing a few things in Tristan’s bag, I scooped it up, grabbed my laptop, and brought them to the living room.
“Hey, guys, I’m just going to grab Tristan and I’m ready,” I said with a smile. Slice and Radar both trailed their eyes over me from head to toe. Not in a way that made me feel weird, and they’d never been inappropriate. Which, come to think of it, was really weird for a couple of bikers.
I’d barely entered the hallway when I heard a thump and Slice mutter, “Hey! What was that for?”
Gunny said something, but I couldn’t make it out because I’d entered Tristan’s room and he was shaking a stuffed puppy that rattled. “Hey, handsome,” I cooed.
A big smile curled his perfect little lips, and he kicked his legs.
I’d dressed him in a black snap-T that said “My Dad’s Cooler Than Yours. He Rides A Harley.” Of course, a purchase of Gunny’s. I’d laughed my ass off when he’d come home with it last week. He’d given me a devious grin and hung it up in Tristan’s closet.
With Tristan in my arms, I walked back out to find the guys in a quiet but deep discussion. They stopped speaking as soon as I stepped out of the hall.
Jax and Jokers: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel Page 16
