“Why is your dick hard?” I asked, this time perplexed. Did riding a motorbike excite a man that much that it aroused them?
“Pixie you just told me you are basically naked expect for some lace. So yes, my dick is fucking hard,” he said with a low growl, the sound triggering a spasm of electricity through my core.
“Oh,” I whispered, my legs suddenly squeezing together.
“Yeah,” he agreed in a hoarse whisper of his own.
“I’m arguing with my brother,” I blurted out, thinking it may help distract him from his… predicament.
“What?”
“Go with me Ninja, I am trying to help you,” I giggled.
His deep laugh filled my ears, and I shimmied my butt back until I was sitting fully on the bed, my back against the pillow and headboard.
“Okay Pixie, why are you arguing with your brother.”
“Because he is a wanker and thinks he has the right to dictate my comings and goings,” I replied simply. “The usual, only this time, he isn’t going to win,” I added firmly.
“He cares baby.” Gabriel reasoned gently. “You are his little sister.”
“I am also twenty-three years old Gabriel,” I huffed. “My brothers always get up in my business. It was a wonder I lost my virginity at all! They made going out with a bloke so difficult my first time was in the back seat of my then boyfriend’s car. Not the best or most romantic way to have sex,” I ranted and was about to go on but a loud growl, and not a good one, came from Gabriel.
“And there goes my hard-on. Little tip for you Pixie, don’t ever mention any situation where another man but me has been inside you. Right now, I want to rip that prick’s fucking head off for even daring to touch you.”
My mouth opened to reply but nothing came out. What on earth did I just hear, and why was my pussy weeping?
Did I actually like Gabriel all manly and alpha? Yes, yes, I think I did.
Cory was a bad boyfriend and an even worse first-time sex choice. He did deserve to have his head unceremoniously ripped off his shoulders.
“Well he could do with a good beating at the very least. There was hardly any foreplay, so things weren’t exactly ready for him down there if you know what I mean—”
“Devon, I swear to god—”
Gabriel’s growly reply was cut off by a beeping coming from my phone, frowning I took the phone from my ear and saw I had an incoming call from my dad.
Kyle, you unimaginable bastard!
“I have a call waiting from my dad, I better take it honey.” The endearment slipping out without thinking about it. I bit my lip, worried that he wouldn’t like me calling him a pet name. I mean he’d called me baby many times last night and three times now on the phone.
“I like that, you calling me honey,” Gabriel hummed.
“Yeah me too. I really do have to go, but will you call me again later, after you settle in and have visited with your family?” I asked hopefully.
“Absolutely baby. Go take your dad’s call, I will speak to you later. Oh Pixie?”
“Yes Gabriel?”
“What colour are your panties?”
Oh. My. God.
“Red,” I rasped, then pressed the end button to disconnect and connect me with dad, but not before I heard a low guttural groan from my Ninja Man.
Oh lord, if the man could make my pussy wet from just his voice on the phone imagine what his mouth could do to it in person?
Probably make you detonate in two-point-two seconds.
I wasn’t a virgin obviously and had twice had sex since my disastrous deflowering. Both times just as bad as the first, so I gave up on sex, my brother’s interference helped me decide. Mostly it was because I decided I wasn’t cut out for orgasms, I wanted one very badly and more than one if possible, but that was the problem, I didn’t think it was possible. Sadly, each time I’d had sex, I never got… wet, excited, stimulated. Fair enough the three guys didn’t try that hard to help with the process, all they wanted to do was stick it in and expedite their own needs.
Gabriel managed to preform a miracle with just his growls, groans and just by being his alpha self.
“Devon Maree Mercy!” my father’s shout brought me back to the present with a thud, literally banging my head on my wooden headboard.
“Ugg, dad, must you use my full name? Have you been talking to Kyle by any chance?”
“Yes. I just off a group call with the three of them. Have you met a man Devon?”
“What—how—what?” I stuttered like a fool.
“Devon, you don’t normally get so angry at the boys unless there is a guy involved,” dad pointed out.
Toying with my bottom lip with my teeth, I took a minute to decide how much I wanted to tell my father about Gabriel. We were so, so new, just beginning, bringing my interfering family in too soon might be a mistake.
Thankfully, a loud horn went off in the distance on my father’s end of the line.
Phew saved by the end of shift siren.
“I have to go Dev, don’t forget you have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, I got a text alert from the hospital as a reminder. Mitchell is coming in from the city to take you. He will be on a time frame so don’t drag your feet or annoy him with your rambling. I won’t be home this weekend, some of the guys and I are taking off for the Cape to do some deep-sea fishing. Seeya,” he yelled the last part then there was nothing but the dial tone. The cynical side of me hated that he only remembered my appointment because of the text. Hell, if his number wasn’t down as a secondary contact he would never know jack shit about any of the doctor visits.
“Yep, I met a man, he is fabulous and gives me his attention and likes to listen to me talk even when I go off subject and ramble. Thanks for being interested dad,” I said to the phone, with no one on the other end to hear me.
Same old dad, absent and would rather spend his free time with the people he is stuck on an oil rig with than see his own daughter.
Sighing loudly, I pushed off the bed and traipsed back to the bathroom. I did what I did best and pushed aside the hurt my father’s indifference inflicted.
Think of Gabriel and his deep growly voice, and if that doesn’t work you can always think about what his hard dick looks like. I thought as I turned on the hot water and waited for it to heat up.
Much better plan.
The stress that had set up shop inside me finally started to ease out of me when Mitchell turned the car onto the road that led to the far end of Queenscliff.
Four more streets and I could bail out of the luxury BMW and get away from the lecture that has so far lasted for the whole thirty minutes since we left the Geelong Hospital.
Devon you have to be more yielding. Devon you must understand the sacrifices we make for you. On and on it went until I stopped listening to him and turned my head to my window effectively giving him the cold shoulder.
I was through with being the reason in their minds for not having a life. Never once since my remission had I ever told them I needed complete and total devotion. I didn’t ask for cancer, or ask for the truck to veer out of control and take out our car. I also didn’t ask for them to be saints and drive me to every medical appointment, which for the last few years had only been once a year. Not exactly the torture Mitchell made it sound like.
“Devon are you listening to me? For God sake I have better things to do than drive all the way here then to Geelong to sit in a waiting room while you go off for hours,” Mitchell admonished me as if I were one of his children.
The end of my street came into view, my hand on the door handle ready for my escape.
“Devon!”
One… two…
“My god you are ungrateful.”
Three.
The car slowed as Mitchell guided it into the driveway, and I took the risk of throwing open the door and jumping out before we came to a complete stop.
“I never asked for cancer Mitchell, and I am so sorry you find it so abhorrent
to drive me once a year to Geelong. Don’t bother yourself anymore,” I shouted at him then slammed the door, shutting out his spluttering at my outburst.
Foregoing the front door entrance, I ran across the lawn to the back gate where my own personal entrance was located. I had a few calls to make to my dog owners, the bus company and then I had some packing to do.
Gabriel, I hope you meant it when you said you wanted me to meet your family, because I am coming to you.
CHAPTER NINE
GABRIEL
“That boy needs to stop drinking before he loses the ability to use his brain,” my mum’s sweet voice reached me over the music currently being played over the compound’s outdoor speakers.
Smiling, I shifted down on the bench seat to make room so she could sit next to me, my eyes narrowing on the person in question.
“Bastian is really laying it on tonight, worse than he did last night,” mum observed correctly.
Bastian was going through the grog more than usual tonight. What was going on in his head was anyone’s guess. As a rule, I didn’t get involved in my men’s personal life when we got off the base. As their CO it was my job to see that their performance on the battlefield was their main focus, and Bastian’s was nothing less than exemplary. His expertise laid with weapons, and his sheer fearlessness. There was nothing that man wouldn’t do for me on a mission. He never said no, he was always the first one at my shoulder going in despite the danger, and he was the man I trusted more than anyone with my life.
His issues with authority and the brass was his main downfall. I just hoped that alcohol wasn’t becoming one too.
“The last few months were pretty rough on us,” I told her. “Bastian had a couple of runs ins with one of our Majors, nothing too serious but enough that he needs to let shit down,” I said, without telling her too much. Mum had not been around during my old man’s military days, so the she wasn’t used to the secretiveness of my job, but as the wife a former MC president she was aware that some things had to remain unspoken. Her support of dad’s position in the club meant she knew when to ask questions and when not to ask.
“Time for dad or Deck to get involved?” mum asked quietly, knowingly.
I pursed my lips for a second, giving her question some thought before answering.
Bastian was a hothead, I acknowledged that. When not on a mission where his cool and calm was dependable he had a tendency to blow. His temper and his fists ruled his decision making. The drinking I wasn’t all that worried about, we all needed to let our hair down after a long deployment like the one we just came off. All of us dealt with the stress and the memories in our own ways, Bastian normally fought his crap out in the ring but at times a beer did the trick. Listening to his roaring laughter at something Zander was telling him, there been more than one beer consumed.
“Nah, if he needs an arse kicking I can do it,” I told her confidently. Getting Deck, let alone my dad in on Bastian’s insubordination issues would only push my best mate further into his bad behaviour.
“All right then. So, tell me about you Gabriel, what is her name?”
The light beer I was sipping choked in my throat. My mother’s intuition was very scary at times.
“Huh?” I spluttered wiping at my chin.
“Oh please,” mum scoffed bumping my shoulder with hers, “I know you better than you know yourself baby boy. And I sense that there is a lady putting that stern look of wondering on your face.”
Shaking my head, I leaned down and pressed a kiss to my mum’s short blonde hair, even at her age there wasn’t a grey hair in sight.
Stella Booth was a beautiful woman, inside and out, and a very smart one.
“Okay mum, yes there is a girl. It is a very new relationship, days old really, but she has me all knotted up but in a good way. Ya know?”
I never had a problem talking with my mum, any subject was on the table with us. Both my parents were easy to talk to and open up to as well. Being an only child, they made me the centre of their world, I felt it every day– the constant blanket of love and support.
“Relationship? You think that already?” mum asked, not so much surprised but interested.
“Yeah I do,” I agreed immediately. “I have never felt such a connection to a woman in my life mum. She is funny and slightly nuts, sweet nuts,” I said, laughing at the way Devon went off subject and rambled like a lovable loon.
“Nuts hey? Sounds like she would fit in with the Flock.”
“I thought exactly the same thing. Pixie would definitely be a good fit at the compound.”
“Pixie?” Mum smiled at me. “Just like the rest of the men and their nicknames for us.” Her laughter caught the attention of my dad, who was sitting on the picnic table not far from us. His grey eyes seeking her out, a fond and loving smile breaking out on his face.
I wonder if I look like that when I look at Devon, I mused to myself.
“You like her a lot, don’t you?” mum asked with a happy smile.
“I do, a f— freaking lot.” I pulled myself up from cursing which brought an eye roll from her.
“Gabriel you have met your father, right?” she said drolly.
“Yes mother, but that doesn’t mean I like to swear while talking to my sweet beautiful mum,” I replied honestly.
“I raised you well,” mum boasted sassily, poking her tongue out at my dad and getting a booming laugh in response. The bastard probably had her wired up and heard everything being said, his obsession with her that deep.
“You know he probably has a wire on you,” I told her, voicing my thoughts.
“More than likely,” mum allowed fondly. Dad might be obsessed with her, but mum’s devotion to my dad was just as strong.
Suddenly, an overwhelming need to see Devon gripped me. Our few phone conversations in the past two days had left me missing her more than I expected, especially after the first call when Devon started rambling about being clad only in red lace panties. That caused a hard-on in my pants I couldn’t shake off, that was until Devon continued to tell me about her first time, then I experienced pure hatred and jealousy towards a person I didn’t even know.
After our incredible date, and having the pleasure of holding her close and sharing the most amazing kisses with her, I wanted to be the only man to ever touch her. Irrational as that sounded, I couldn’t help but hate the man who took her innocence. Murderous thoughts had consumed me the entire ride back to Ballarat.
Maybe I was a lot more like my old man than I thought.
“She is the one isn’t she baby boy? Your reason,” mum queried, her eyes wide with surprise. Not that I could blame her, mostly I kept my relationships very personal, never bringing a woman home to the compound, to the inner circle of my family. There was never a desire to introduce any of them, until Devon.
I was worried about my little black-haired Pixie. I called her yesterday, later in the afternoon, after trying for three hours to get hold of her we finally connected. When she finally answered I could tell she had been upset, her laughs forced at best and her answers were clipped one or two words. This morning I tried calling but got her voicemail once again. What the fuck was going on? Wasn’t she feeling it anymore? Did I leave too soon, coming home before our blossoming relationship got past the first stage? Should I have made love to her?
Jesus Christ Booth how about you hand over your bowie knife for an apron and join the Flock.
I dropped my head to the table with a thud, feelings of utter joy just thinking Devon’s name and sheer terror that she didn’t want to see me anymore. My father wasn’t lying when he said women had the ability to make you drop to your knees one minute then tie you up in knots the next. Devon was doing that to me right now.
“I don’t know what is going on mum, she hasn’t answered her phone since—”
“Tank, you got a visitor at the front gate!” Grill yelled from the quadrangle that led to the car park.
Groaning, I lifted my head. “They be
tter not be dressed in uniform,” I yelled back, pissed off that one, I had to move, and two, Grill called me Tank. On the field, or in the jungle, I took on the persona of the soldier willing to whatever whenever to save lives and make it out alive myself. I went in with no fear of the danger, knowing the best men were at my back. Here at the compound though, I enjoyed shedding that cloak of armour.
“No uniform, just the fucking sexiest legs I have ever had the privilege of seeing in denim shorts. Cute little black-haired chick, sassy too,” Grill shot back at me.
“Devon,” I breathed, pushing up from the bench seat and vaulting over the picnic table hitting the ground running. The rushing sound in my ears blocked out the whistling and jeering coming from the outside bar the club set up for barbeques, Bastian the loudest.
“Got yourself a live one have ya Tank?” he taunted me as I passed by him.
“Keep it up LT and I will kick your arse,” I promised him darkly, not sparing him anymore time as I moved quickly to the front entrance.
He and I were going to have a conversation sooner than later, I didn’t mind joking and general mucking around, it usually helped bring us down from a mission. But mix it with too much alcohol and it produced a fucking idiot waiting for a beat down.
Nodding at Grill, I made sure to give him a warning glare.
“Don’t talk about her like that, she is special and mine.”
I didn’t have to say anything else to my LC, my tone told him everything my words didn’t.
Rounding the huge utes, and one tonne light trucks the club’s construction business kept here because of the better security, the gate came into view.
And so, did Devon.
Standing by the gate, was my Pixie dressed in short light denim shorts, and a loose-fitting red tee that was sliding off one shoulder. From here I couldn’t see a bra strap, making blood speed to my cock.
Naughty Pixie.
“Devon!”
“Ninja!”
I laughed at her silly name for me, then again when she dropped her bag literally on Seb’s foot and sprinted towards me, my eyes going to her chest.
Gabriel (The Wounded Sons Book 1) Page 7
