Temper

by Chantal Fernando

  “So tight,” he murmurs, kissing me deeper. I’ve only been with one man, once, but I do have a vibrator that has been my stand-in, so it’s not like nothing has ever been down there.

  Working his way down my body, he pulls my pants down with his teeth, and I lift my hips to help him.

  “Are you on the pill?” he asks, and I nod.

  “Good,” he whispers, placing his face right in front of my pussy. He breathes in deeply and groans, as if he loves the scent of me, then peeps his tongue out for a little taste, which seems to send him over the edge, because the next minute he’s eating me out like he’s starving, licking and sucking, rubbing his tongue against my clit and sending me into overdrive.

  I thought men don’t know where the clit is? briefly runs through my mind, before pleasure, desire and want consume my every thought and feeling. When I come, it’s powerful, strong, and seems to go on forever.

  “Fuck,” I whisper, my legs trembling, my back arched and my mouth open of its own accord.

  Before I can even come back to myself, Temper is taking his shorts off, setting himself free. He looks to me as if for permission, and when I nod and slide against him, he slowly works himself inside of me. His penis is huge, much bigger than the only other one I’ve seen, but it feels so good, and I’m so wet, dampness all over my thighs.

  Leaning down, he kisses my lips. “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “More than okay.”

  “You feel so fuckin’ good, I almost just came sliding inside of you,” he admits, groaning.

  “You’re really good at all of this stuff,” I whisper, and moan as he bends his head to suck on my nipple.

  “I’m glad you think so.” Things get hot and heavy, but before he can come, he pulls out and lies back. “Sit on my face, I want to taste you again.”

  Holy fuck.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I wake up smiling before my eyes are even open.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he says from next to me. “I made you some coffee.”

  I don’t think today could get any better.

  “Thank you,” I say, my voice thick with sleep. Pushing my hair out of my face, I rub my eyes before accepting the mug of deliciousness.

  “How did you sleep?” he asks.

  I flash him a sideways glance. “Pretty damn well, and yourself?”

  He grins in response. “I don’t know about you, but it’s been a fuckin’ long time for me, so I’m feeling damn good.”

  We never had the chat about how many people we’d slept with, or when, but apparently we’re going to have it now.

  “It’s been a long time for me too,” I admit, suddenly looking down into my coffee. “I’ve umm...only actually slept with one person. One time.”

  And it was shit.

  Last night showed me just how amazing sex can be, especially if it’s with the right person. Temper gave me my first orgasm that wasn’t self-induced, and let me tell you, it was a fucking out-of-body experience. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my vibrator after that. The connection, the sensations, the touching...it was honestly a night that I’m never going to forget.

  “Really?” he asks, eyes going wide. “How? Look at you—you must get hit on all the time working at the bar.”

  “I kind of just stick to myself. I mean, I have been asked out before, but never by anyone I was interested in. I don’t know, I guess I was just waiting for the right man to come along,” I explain, looking back at him. “I feel comfortable with you, but have butterflies at the same time. I don’t know. You make me feel confident and beautiful just by the way you look at me. I thought I’d have felt a little shy last night, being naked in front of you, but I didn’t.”

  “Good,” he says, smiling at me. “I want you to feel that way, always. I don’t think you know how amazing you are, Abbie.”

  I reach out and take his hand. We’re getting closer every day and showing him affection is becoming more and more natural. I don’t know how we got here, but here we are. I’m trying not to overthink it, and I’m just going to go with the flow.

  Chains is sitting shirtless in the kitchen with the newspaper and his coffee by the time I make it in there. I haven’t really seen anyone under fifty reading the newspaper because everyone has news apps on their phone these days.

  He doesn’t even lift his head when I walk past him and put some bread in the toaster, and I think he’s going to ignore me completely until he says, “There’s some bacon and eggs in the pan if you want some. I even mashed some avocado.”

  “Thanks,” I say, eying the pan, and serve some on my plate. “It looks good.”

  “I used to be a chef,” he admits, giving me the first bit of personal information he’s ever given me. “Before I became a prospect.”

  Surprised by his admission, I stop in my tracks and turn to face him. “Really? Do you cook much here for everyone?”

  “Nope” is all he gives me.

  “Okay,” I reply, dragging the word out. I’m not sure if he’s just not a people person, or if he just gives no shits about how he comes across, but he’s definitely the most unfriendly of the men here.

  “Just the woman I was looking for,” Dee says, clapping his hands together when he spots me. “I need to go shopping, and I need someone without a penis to come with me.”

  “I’m taking her to the shooting range today,” Temper says as he joins us, slapping him on the back. “What the fuck you need to go shopping for, huh?”

  “Clothes,” Dee replies, glancing down at his worn T-shirt. “I need to buy some new clothes, and I have no fashion sense.”

  “We’re on a fuckin’ lockdown, and you’re worried about clothes?” Temper deadpans, turning to me and shaking his head. “Want to learn how to shoot today?”

  I nod. “Yeah, actually that sounds good.” Seems like it’s something important to learn while I’m here, maybe with some kind of self-defense moves and perhaps even whatever driving course police are made to do, for the next time I’m stuck driving the getaway vehicle.

  “Good,” he says, smiling at me and disappearing again.

  “Him smiling so much is fuckin’ weird,” Dee comments, watching the space where Temper just was. “I don’t know how I’m going to get used to it.”

  Moving to the table with my full plate, I pull out a chair and dig in. “He has a great smile.”

  Chains lifts his head and looks at me, his dark eyes giving nothing away. “He’s much happier with you around, that’s for sure.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “And thank you for this delicious breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replies, turning his attention back to his newspaper.

  Once I’m ready, I go find Temper, who is in the gym boxing with Saint. I know he says he doesn’t work out, but this looks like a workout to me, the two of them punching each other, swerving and ducking. They’re both shirtless, in nothing but shorts, and I can’t look away from Temper, flashbacks from last night hitting me. Him on top of me, him behind me, him going down on me.

  My face heating, I leave the gym only to run into Skylar, almost knocking her phone out of her hands. “Shit, sorry,” I say, grabbing her arms.

  “Sorry, I should be paying attention to where I’m going instead of on my phone,” she says, hands on her chest but a smile on her face. “Is Saint in there?”

  I nod. “Yeah, him and Temper are boxing.”

  “Quite the sight, isn’t it?” she asks, smirking. “Do you want to come and sit with me outside until they’re done?”

  “Sure,” I say, following her out and sitting down on one of the comfy outdoor seats. “You’re off today?”

  “Yeah, I’ve taken a few days off until this whole thing calms down,” she explains, putting her phone on the table. “I’m a paramedic, and I won’t be able to concentrate at work
if I’m wondering what the hell is going on back here, you know? I’d rather be here, making sure everyone is okay. I hate when shit like this is going down. I was supposed to go to my brother’s house tonight, but I’m just going to stay here and chill.”

  “It’s definitely stressful,” I agree, looking out over the yard. “How often does things like this happen?”

  “You just never know.” She sighs, twirling her red hair around her finger. “It’s been at least eight months since the Izzy drama happened. It’s so easy to get lulled into a false sense of safety, and then before you know it some other bullshit happen and you’re back on alert again. I’m not going to lie, it’s not always easy being who we are.”

  “I can see that,” I say softly.

  It’s just, how do you walk away from these men?

  How am I going to walk away from Temper?

  “Why is nothing easy?” I ask, pursing my lips. “I finally found a man that I like, and who likes me, and it has to come with so many complications and sacrifices.”

  “Nothing worth anything is easy,” she says, flashing me a sympathetic look. “I’ve known Temper for as long as I can remember, ever since I was a kid.”

  “Really?” I ask, eyebrows rising.

  “Yeah, my mom used to date the old president, Hammer, so I spent some of my childhood here, with the men,” she explains, smiling sadly. “So I’ve loved Temper for a long time. He’s family to me, and I can honestly say that you’ve made such a change in him. He’s happier, and lighter. He smiles, he laughs. I haven’t even heard him raising his voice. He’s a new man.”

  “You know, Temper’s been asking me out since I met him five years ago, and back then I felt like he was too old for me. But now that I think about it, I don’t think I ever thought he was too old for me—I thought I was too young for him. Like I was too immature.”

  Skylar starts laughing. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  “So he’s like...what, fourteen years older than you? Age is nothing but a number.”

  “A number that haunts us women the older we get,” I grumble.

  “At least you’ll always be young compared to him,” she teases, laughing at her own joke.

  “That’s true.” And I’m not going to complain about the experience he has, in the bedroom and out of it.

  We end up chatting for ages, and when Temper and Saint emerge—Temper showered and dressed in all black, ready to teach me how to shoot—we’re both laughing in hysterics and they look at us like we’re crazy.

  “You ready for this?” he asks me.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Let’s make you badass.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I’m enjoying this a little more than I probably should,” I admit, aiming at the target. “This is actually pretty fun.”

  And kind of like a stress release. It also makes me feel a little less helpless. Like before this, if someone had thrown me a gun and told me to defend myself, I would have no idea what to do with it. I mean, yeah, point it and pull the trigger, but there’s a little more to it than that, and it’s good to know how to use this weapon safely. I don’t think I’m going to be taking this up as a hobby or anything, but it feels good to have this knowledge under my belt. It’s been a great experience, and having Temper standing behind me with his arms over me, showing me the ropes, has also been quite enjoyable.

  It also helps that I’m a good shot.

  I shoot, and it hits the target right in the middle.

  “Remind me not to make you angry,” Temper comments from my side, but I can hear the pride in his tone.

  “Yeah, you better not. Seriously, though, I do feel better now knowing how to use one of these things,” I admit, safely putting the gun away. “Do you come here often?”

  “Not really anymore,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “Trade and I used to come here a lot. After becoming president, it’s like I just haven’t got the time to do the things I enjoy. Since you’ve been here this is the most time I’ve taken off... I think ever. I’m usually in meetings, running around and making sure all the businesses are being taken care of, making sure the men aren’t getting into too much shit.”

  “And who makes sure you aren’t getting into too much trouble?” I ask, resting my cheek against his chest. “And that you’re being taken care of?”

  He runs his fingers through my hair. “I take care of myself.”

  I glance up at him. “Skylar says you’re happier now than you’ve been in a long time.”

  “I can agree with that,” he says, leading me back to the car. “Kind of hard not to be, isn’t it?”

  I don’t know how he can be so damn cute. I sent my mom a voice mail on the way to the shooting range telling her I will be home in a week, and that she doesn’t need to worry about me, everything is fine.

  If I’m being honest, though?

  I hope this week goes slow as hell.

  * * *

  “We have a fuckin’ problem,” Renny says as he steps into the clubhouse. Saint, Temper and I are sitting out the back with music on and a drink in our hands. Skylar just left with Chains to grab groceries.

  “What is it?” Temper asks, sitting forward.

  “I ran into one of our clients at the bike shop, and he mentioned that Grayson Palmer has been asking around about us. Does that name sound familiar to you?” he asks his president.

  “Palmer...the drug dealer?” Temper asks, sharing a look with Saint. “What does that fucker want with us? We don’t deal with drugs.”

  “Anymore, anyway,” Saint mumbles.

  “He’s not just a dealer anymore, he’s moved up to the fuckin’ kingpin,” Renny continues, pulling out a chair and sitting down, knees spread wide, elbows on his thighs. “He runs one of the biggest drug cartels in Southern California. And I don’t know what he wants with us, but we need to find out immediately. It’s enough we have mercenaries after us—last thing we need is some drug lord adding to our current list of enemies.”

  “Palmer can get in line at this point,” I grumble.

  “We’ve had no dealings with him, no bad blood,” Temper thinks out loud, strumming his fingers on the table. “There are two options here: either this is just a coincidence that he’s been asking about us and there are mercenaries after us, or the more obvious conclusion is that he works with the mercenaries. Or, fuck, even hired them. How do we know they aren’t his henchmen?”

  “We don’t.” Saint nods, standing up and grabbing his phone off the table. “What if we just go and speak to him?”

  “Palmer?” Renny asks, looking to Temper. “What do you think we should do?”

  “Let’s find out more about this Palmer guy before I decide,” Temper says. “I need to know exactly what we’re working with here. I don’t want to go in blind. Saint, call the rest of the men in.”

  “On it,” Saint says, sending out a text message.

  Drug lords, mercenaries...what other kinds of people am I going to meet during the next few days? I stay quiet during their conversation, and when Renny and Saint leave to figure out what move to make next, Temper and I are left alone again.

  “I’m going to go to Izzy’s house with a pitcher of margaritas,” I tell Temper. I know we’re supposed to be on a lockdown, but I seriously can’t think of anything better right now, because this whole thing is just too much, and she only lives down the road.

  I make up some margaritas and am about to leave as Crow and Dee walk up. “Where were you guys?” I ask them, eying Dee’s unbuttoned shirt. “I’m guessing you didn’t find anyone with taste to go shopping with you, then?”

  “We were at the strip club, working,” he admits, glancing down at his shirt. “And no, apparently none of my female friends can make time for me.” He makes an overexaggerated frown.

  “You wor
k at the strip club now?” I tease. “What’s your specialty dance move? The slut drop?”

  “Ha, ha,” he replies in a dry tone.

  Crow wraps an arm around me. “Where are you off to with a pitcher of alcohol?”

  “I was going to walk to Izzy’s. It’s just down the road, isn’t it?”

  “You don’t even know where it is? Come on, I’ll walk you over,” Crow says, turning to Dee. “I’ll be five minutes.”

  “I hope she’s home,” I say as we make our way by foot.

  “She’s always home,” notes Crow, amusement in his tone. “She’s probably sitting on her couch on her laptop, Shadow by her side.”

  “So you guys just drop in whenever you want to?”

  “Exactly. What’s family for?” Crow replies chirpily, moving out of the way when I accidentally spill some of the cocktail. “Shit, sorry.”

  We arrive at Izzy’s house, and Crow knocks. We can hear Shadow at the door, barking his little head off. The door opens and she stands there in her pajamas, smiling at us. “Well, well, what do we have here? Come on in, guys.”

  “I’m just here to drop her off,” Crow says, waiting for me to get inside. “Call me when you’re done, I’ll come and get you, all right? And lock up.”

  “Yes, sir,” Izzy says, closing the door and turning to me. “What have I missed? Wait, let me get some glasses and salt so we can have one of those while you tell me.”

  I walk through her cute boho-style house, which is so beautifully decorated and instantly gives me a homey vibe, and end up in her kitchen where she pulls out two margarita glasses and dips the rims in salt before we pour my homemade margaritas into them. We sit in her living room, where her laptop is open and waiting, just as Crow predicted.

  Shadow comes and sits next to me, brown eyes begging for attention, so I pat him with one hand and drink with the other.

  “So the men are discussing their plan of action right now, but apparently some drug lord has been asking around about the Knights, and it’s gotten back to us, and now we need to know why, and how this Palmer guy fits into the whole thing,” I explain to Izzy, who sips on her cocktail with wide eyes.