Chains

by Wilder, Chiah

  “That was fuckin’ good, baby,” he said while running fingertips up and down her arm.

  “It was amazing. I just wished I didn’t look like a damn gargoyle.”

  A deep chuckle from his chest vibrated against her ear. “You’re one helluva beautiful gargoyle.” He squeezed her tight, then she felt him stiffen. “How’s the pain?”

  “It’s really starting to throb. I’m going to take a pain pill.”

  “Tell me where they are, and I’ll get one for you.”

  Tilting her head back, she met his eyes. “See … you are sweet, but it’ll be our secret. I’ll get it, though. I want to freshen up a bit.”

  Leaning down, he kissed the tip of her nose tenderly. “It better be—I got a reputation to uphold,” he replied and winked.

  A giggle burst through Autumn’s lips, but as she pushed up from the bed, the pain on the side of her face immediately shot needles through her. Gritting her teeth, she shuffled to the bathroom and closed the door.

  She looked in the mirror and gasped. “I look awful! I can’t go to work like this—makeup won’t cover the swelling.” Wincing as she touched the bruising around her right eye and cheek, she opened the medicine cabinet and took out a pill.

  After cleaning up and splashing cold water on her face several times, she wrapped the robe hanging on the back of the door around her and returned to the bedroom. Autumn smiled when she saw Chains sitting back against the headboard, speaking in a low voice to someone on the phone. She’d expected him to be dressed and ready to leave.

  “So we’ll roll tomorrow night. Um … let me know what you find out. Later,” Chains said. Then he moved the phone from his ear to the nightstand. Looking up at her, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “A little.” Autumn glanced down and saw copper eyes staring at her. “I know Cinder is. Who were you talking to?”

  Chains stood up. “One of the brothers. Something we had planned for tonight got rescheduled.” He bent down and picked up his clothes. “I’m gonna take a shower, and you figure out what you want to order for dinner. I’m good with anything.”

  “Okay. Shampoo and soap are on the shower shelves. Let me get you a towel.”

  Chains leaned against the door jamb, his gaze fixed on her every move. “Thanks,” he said, gripping the bath towel. He yanked her to him and crushed her against his chest. “I’m gonna spend the night if that’s cool with you.”

  Warmth spread through her. “I was hoping you would.”

  Placing his fingers under her chin, he lifted her face to him. “Glad we’re on the same page,” he said, brushing his fingers across her mouth.

  She kissed each one, and sucked the last one between her lips. A low growl rumbled from his throat and he pressed her closer.

  “Fuck, Autumn.” He ground against her, and placed her hand on his stiff dick. “See what you do to me?” he said huskily.

  Cinder meowed, then dashed over and rubbed several times against Autumn’s legs until she laughed and tugged out of Chains’s arms.

  “My cat is calling,” she said.

  Chains smacked her playfully on the ass. “That’s another raincheck, but I’m collecting on that one tonight.”

  He turned around, and Autumn stood there for a few moments admiring the firmness of his butt and how it flexed when he moved. The bathroom door shut and Cinder bumped her head against Autumn’s ankle.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.” She bent down and scratched the cat under the chin. “Let’s get you some dinner.”

  An hour later, Autumn snuggled beside Chains as they watched an action movie. Empty takeout cartons and beer cans littered the coffee table. With one fuzzy-socked foot, she moved a cardboard carton out of the way.

  “Cinder! Down,” she said.

  Chains pulled his arm away from her shoulder and pushed up from the couch. “Let me get this cleared up.”

  Autumn pressed the Pause button on the remote. “I’ll help.”

  He shook his head. “Stay right where you are. I got this.” He stacked the boxes inside themselves, then scooped up three crushed beer cans and ambled to the kitchen.

  Autumn couldn’t believe that Chains had been cool with ordering from the Spice Room. On his way to pick up the food, he’d stopped off to grab a twelve-pack of Coors and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk. The ice cream was a once-in-a-while indulgence, but after what Bret had done to her, Autumn needed the pint in the worst way. And the super cool thing was that Chains didn’t even bat an eye when she’d asked him to pick it up for her. All he wanted to know was how many she’d like. Autumn couldn’t believe that he didn’t give the tiniest bit of shit about her wanting the calorie laden dessert. Bret would’ve harped on it for days, always reminding me that I could stand to lose a few pounds. How can these two be brothers?

  “Do you want anything else from the kitchen?” Chains asked, slicing through her thoughts.

  “Just you.” She laughed.

  “You got that, baby. You don’t want the ice cream?”

  A huge grin spread across her face. “Maybe later.”

  Chains came back with two beers, which he put on the end table next to the couch. Settling back down on the couch, he circled his arm around Autumn and tugged her close.

  “Would you eat Indian food again?” she asked before hitting the Play button.

  “Yeah. It was really good and spicy.” Gently, those wonderful lips pressed against hers, soft and strong all at once. “Good choice,” he whispered against her mouth.

  Autumn leaned further into him and cupped his cheek. He captured her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing each knuckle and finger.

  “I really want to thank you for everything—being there when the wedding was canceled … Tonight … Everything.”

  “No worries, but don’t think I fucked you because of what my asshole brother did to you tonight. I’ve been wanting to be with you for a while now.”

  Autumn swallowed, then smiled weakly. “You’re very direct. I’ve never been with a man who just says it quite like you do.”

  “I don’t play games. I told you that before.”

  “I like that—it’s refreshing.”

  “I’ll tell you what you want to know, except for club business. That’s off-limits to everyone but the members. Anything else and you’ll get a straight answer from me.”

  “Good to know. I’ll give it to you straight too.”

  Chains quirked his lips and nodded. “I hate what my fuckin’ brother did to you—as far as the wedding, but most of all, what he did tonight. I’m not talkin’ about it ’cause I don’t wanna upset you or make the anger that’s bubbling beneath the surface explode inside me. Just know—I haven’t forgotten what the fucker did earlier.”

  Her stomach churned, and she bounced a curled knuckle against her leg. “It’s okay … well, it really isn’t, but what I mean is that I don’t want you to fight Bret over this.”

  There was a long pause and Autumn began to wonder whether he heard her, but then he locked his gaze on hers. And those eyes filled with care and kindness and desire. All for me. What do I do with that?

  “I don’t want to talk about him”—Chains spat the word out like it was poison on his tongue—“anymore.” Two fingers ran from the hollow of her throat down between her breasts, skating over them, then tweaking her hardened nipples as the other hand untied the sash of the robe.

  Autumn moaned and arched her back, and he groaned deep in his throat as he opened her robe and then gently eased her down on the cushions, those soft and skilled hands still touching everywhere. His tongue circled a path around each breast before his teeth bit the pebbled buds and pulled them into his mouth.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured.

  Fire rushed through her veins and the swell between her legs ached like hell. She practically fell apart when his hand palmed her, and she ground against him like a dog in heat. Chains chuckled deeply, and slipped a finger into her slit.

  �
�Fuckin’ wet,” he whispered.

  “Take me upstairs,” Autumn mumbled, her mind reeling, her body pulsing.

  With a soft sweep of warm lips across hers, he lifted her up, and for the second time that night, he carried her up the staircase.

  * * *

  The tantalizing aroma of frying bacon and rich-bodied coffee woke her. Autumn burrowed deeper into the warm, soft sheets, tossing the duvet over her head to block out the morning light trickling in through the blinds. Fitfully, she turned on the other side, but nothing stopped the gnawing in her stomach. She threw off the covers, pushed away some auburn strands from her face, then gingerly rubbed the remainders of sleep from her eyes.

  Autumn sat up but flopped backward onto the mattress, slayed by the rush of pain to the right side of her face. Squinting at the sunlight, she turned away and let her lids close. An electronic ring scrambled her brain as she groaned and cussed under her breath. Eyes still shut, she groped around on the nightstand until she snagged the cell phone.

  “Hello?” she answered, her voice dry as tumbleweeds, her mind a fog.

  “Are you okay?” Sadie asked.

  “I just woke up. I’m under the weather.” Autumn would tell her friend what that asshole had done to her, but she didn’t want to get into it at that moment.

  “That came on fast. You were good when we met at the coffeehouse.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s the way it goes sometimes. Can I call you back later?”

  “Sure—I was just calling to see if you wanted to do a girl’s night out next week with Rachel and Alicia. We haven’t done one in a while.”

  “Yeah … sure, that’d be great.”

  “I’ll let them know it’s a go. We were thinking Wednesday after work?” Sadie said.

  “That’s fine.” Autumn placed a finger over her right temple and massaged it gently.

  “Great. Do you need anything?” Concern laced Sadie’s voice.

  A new head and face without any swelling or bruises would be good. Oh … and punching Bret in the face a few times would be a great bonus. “Not really. Thanks for asking.”

  “If you do, let me know. Now go back to bed and get better,” Sadie said.

  “Thanks, we’ll talk soon.”

  Autumn dropped the phone back on the nightstand and inhaled. The delicious aromas filled her nostrils, making her stomach growl loudly. Pushing up slowly from the bed, she rubbed her good eye and shuffled to the bathroom.

  When Autumn came downstairs, she heard the clatter of pans in the kitchen and paused to listen, then smiled broadly. He can cook too. Memories of the night before flickered through her mind, making her heart beat fast. She’d never experienced anything in bed like she had with Chains, but their time together was about so much more. Apprehension crept through her. What does this all mean? Was last night a hookup or more? Do I want more? Yes, she did. Chains did something to her; it was like they were made for each other. Autumn had never felt as strong of a connection with any of the men in her life. That has to mean something. And I felt it from the first day. I’m not imagining this. But she had no idea how he felt. For all she knew, the night before was just a fun time and nothing more. After all, he was a biker—an outlaw one, to be exact, and they lived a very different lifestyle from the average person.

  Again her stomach growled and gnawed, prompting Autumn to go into the kitchen. Chains stood at the stove, flipping something in a frying pan, his muscular back turned to her. Cinder slipped from the mud room door, scurried around Autumn’s feet, and purred.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Autumn whispered as she scratched Cinder under the chin.

  Chains turned and grinned at her, his light brown eyes lingered on the neckline of her pistachio-colored knit top before they skimmed over her breasts, down her hips, then back up to her face. Autumn’s muscles twitched and she covered her nervousness by rearranging the napkins in the holder on the granite island.

  “How’re you feeling?” he turned his back and flipped what looked like tortillas onto a large plate, then covered them with aluminum foil.

  “Better. What’re you making? It smells delicious.”

  Chains looked over his shoulder and winked. “I hope you’re hungry—I got carried away. We’re having huevos rancheros, but I put bacon in them instead of chorizo ’cause I wasn’t sure if you liked it or not.”

  “I like chorizo.”

  “Good to know for next time.” He turned back to the stove.

  So there’s going to be a next time. She suppressed a giggle, then shook her head: she was acting just like a teenager. But there was this vibe in the air between them she couldn’t quite put into words. It was electric and made her feel like high school all over again. Whenever she thought of Chains or if he was near, her stomach constantly fluttered. It was insane, thrilling, and scary all at the same time.

  “Don’t tell me you made homemade tortillas,” she said, pushing the napkins away.

  “I won’t,” he quipped.

  “But you did,” she said.

  He turned around with a platter in one hand filled with sunny-side-up eggs. “Make up your mind, baby. Do you wanna know or not?” There was a glint of humor in those mesmerizing eyes.

  “Smartass,” she said, pulling out a chair at the table.

  Soon they were both eating huevos rancheros with avocado, bacon, cilantro, and chopped tomatoes. Autumn dipped a tortilla into the runny yoke, and an explosion of flavor burst in her mouth.

  “Where did you learn to cook like this?” she asked before taking a drink from her coffee mug.

  “Supermom.” He chuckled. “There was no fuckin’ way I didn’t pick up something from her. I was always in the kitchen trying to stay outta my old man’s way. I learned to make the corn tortillas from my abuela—grandmother—when we lived in New Mexico. Her home was a safe house when my old man was having a bad day and wanted to use me to relieve his frustrations. Abuelita would have none of that shit, so I spent a lot of time with her. She taught me to make homemade tamales—hers were the best in the world. She’d always make them for special occasions, like Christmas … or my birthday.” Chains took a sip of coffee. “Fuck, I haven’t thought about her in years.”

  “Bret never talked about her or living in New Mexico. Your mother told me she was raised there and that the family moved to Alina because your dad got a better job, but she didn’t say too much about growing up there, or her Mexican heritage. All Bret ever said was that he wanted me to learn how to make homemade tortillas from your mother, but now you’re saying your … what did you call your grandmother?”

  “A-buel-ita,” he said.

  “Your abuelita’s tortillas were better.”

  “My mom learned from her mom, but … yeah, my abuelita’s fuckin’ rocked. I’m not surprised my asshole brother never said anything about our Mexican half. As I told you, he was close to my old man, and the old man wasn’t fond of the Mexican culture so he slowly extinguished it from our lives, especially when we moved to Colorado. Bret never gave a shit about our heritage and neither did my sisters, but it’s always been a part of me”—he tapped a fist on the left side of his chest—“in here. My abuelita and I were real tight.”

  Sadness for the little boy he once was flooded through her, and Autumn looked down and began tracing geometric patterns with the fork on her empty plate.

  “So, how do you like it?” he asked.

  Blinking rapidly without raising her eyes, she replied, “It’s very good. You’ve put me to shame.”

  Chains laughed. “There’s no shame in not knowing something. If a person’s interested, he’ll learn, if not, then he won’t. Either way, that’s cool.”

  Smiling warmly, she met his gaze. “I’m just trying to figure out where you got all this stuff to cook. I know it wasn’t from my kitchen.”

  “I went to the store while you were sleeping. And this time”—he grabbed her hand and squeezed it—“I used your key to get in and out.”

  “As opposed to wha
t?”

  “You don’t wanna know.” He winked and leaned over and kissed her softly.

  “I’ll trust you on that one.” Autumn stood up and picked up their plates. “I’ll do the dishes and you relax in the family room.” She glanced down at Cinder, who was curled up at Chains’s feet. “I think you have a new friend,” she said, pointing at the cat.

  “Yeah, we bonded this morning. By the way, I filled her bowl with dry food—it was pretty low.”

  “Thanks.”

  From under the sink, Autumn snagged and tied on an apron before rinsing the plates and stacking them in the dishwasher. The scent of leather and soap swirled around her, then Chains slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her back into him.

  “You look sexy in that apron, baby,” he whispered in her ear. “I’d love to see you in it with nothing but a thong.” He nuzzled her neck, and her stomach flip-flopped while her skin buzzed.

  Autumn leaned back into him and wiggled her butt against his erection. “Nice and hard,” she muttered.

  “All because of you, darlin’,” he replied in a thick voice.

  “And did you want me to do something about it?” she whispered, turning off the faucet.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Autumn twisted around and pressed close to him, then began to rub against him, the friction driving her wild.

  “Fuck, baby,” he rasped.

  She dug her fingers into his T-shirt and frantically tugged it upward. Chains bit her neck and shoulder, then his mouth took a lower path toward her breasts. His warm hands slid beneath her top and across her bare back, his touch sending a rush of tingles through her. When his hands cupped her breasts, Autumn arched into them, and he lowered his head and peppered kisses across her chest. Through the fabric of her sheer bra, he flicked at her nipples, driving them to hardened points as arousal surged through her senses.

  “Chains,” she murmured as he fastened his mouth on one of her nipples, sucking hard at the thin fabric. He bit and nipped and she moaned, pulling him tighter to her. It felt so good that Autumn feared she’d explode right then and there.