Kid: Cerberus MC Book 2

by Marie James

  In that dream I didn’t feel Alec’s loss, rather I felt loved, not abandoned. In that dream there was hope. Hope for my future. Hope for something more than just the bleak existence I feel when I’m awake.

  A soft knock at the door jolts me from my near sleep. It swings open as I’m sitting up to go answer it. I see Kid standing in the doorway holding a basket. I knew it would be him. Other than light conversation while eating, no one else has approached me.

  He smiles and carries the basket inside.

  “It’s a little early for bed isn’t it?” he asks setting the laundry basket down on the end of the bed.

  I look inside quickly. Shocked, I hold up my favorite t-shirt. “These are mine,” I say shuffling through the neatly folded clothes.

  I watch him walk back outside, grab another basket full of my clothes and brings them inside.

  He sets it at my feet. My cheeks redden as I reach down to the scraps of lace and silk on the top of the second basket. Reaching in I pull out a pair of sexy, black underwear. My face falls, not knowing who they belong to. “These aren’t mine,” I tell him holding the scrap between two fingers. My chest aches at knowing they probably belong to the redhead I’ve yet been introduced to.

  “Well, Sweet Girl,” he says with a smirk. “I got all of your clothes from the Sanchez’s house. They were wrinkled so I figured I’d wash them for you.”

  “Still doesn’t explain these,” I say reaching down and pulling more underwear and bras from the top of the pile. “These aren’t mine,” I tell him again.

  “They are now. The pairs you had were,” he scrunches his nose up. “Not suitable. So, I had Snatch run and get you some new things while I took care of the rest.”

  My eyes widen. “You sent the guy covered in tattoos to buy me lingerie?”

  He gives me an exasperated huff. “I wasn’t too happy about him picking your things out either, but Rose and Emmalyn weren’t here.”

  “You didn’t have to wash my clothes,” I say softly.

  I stand from the bed and carry the basket from the floor, placing it on the dresser. I turn to grab the second basket to find Kid standing behind me with it.

  “I wanted to help,” he says handing it to me. “Want me to help get them in the drawers?”

  I hadn’t even considered unloading them. Putting my things away makes this seem more permanent, and I haven’t allowed myself to think that I’d be able to stay here very long.

  “Sure,” I say.

  Within minutes, we have the laundry baskets empty. I watch as he stacks them within one another and places them in the bottom of the closet.

  “The laundry room is in the basement. I’ll need to get you some hangers if there’s anything you’d rather have hung than folded,” he says closing the closet door.

  “Sounds good,” I tell him walking back and getting back in bed. “Thank you, again.”

  “No big deal.” He looks at me and to the far side of the bed and back again to me. “Mind if I join you?”

  More perfect words have never been spoken.

  “Sure,” I say as calmly as I can, even though my heart begins pounding in my chest.

  He makes quick work of his boots and settles in on the opposite side of the bed from me.

  “More Breaking Bad?” I ask pressing buttons on the remote and pulling up Netflix.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He leans against the headboard, eyes facing forward to the TV. The foot and a half between us feels like a million miles. Both kisses we’ve shared have been nothing more than a brush of soft lips, but I can’t help but want more. More of his lips on mine. More than his hand in mine or on the small of my back. I haven’t let myself want more for a long time.

  Unable to focus on the movie and not wanting to get caught staring at him like a crazy woman, I pull out my phone. I feel his eyes shift to me.

  “You should give me your number,” he says.

  I look up at him and watch as he pulls his own phone from the front pocket of his jeans.

  “Can’t,” I tell him.

  “You may need to get ahold of me at some point, Khloe. I want you to have my number as well.”

  “I wouldn’t have an issue with you having my number, Kid, but this phone doesn’t have service. I was covered on Alec’s plan. Seems his parents turned that off too.”

  I clear my throat, refusing to let the pain show again. It kills me how much Alec’s parents hate me. I never expected them to pay my cell phone bill, but I also didn’t think they’d turn the phones off so quick. I can’t even call his phone any longer to hear his voicemail message.

  “Come here,” he says noticing the change in my mood.

  I scoot across the bed, closing the distance between us. I curl into his side and love the way his strong arm feels wrapped around my back.

  “I’ll get you another phone,” he whispers against the top of my head.

  “You don’t have to do that. I don’t expect you to take care of me.” He is though. I have no money, no job, no plans for my future.

  He doesn’t say anything back, only squeezes me a little bit harder.

  I close my eyes and let myself imagine that he’s mine, and I’m his. In my brief fantasy, I’m all that he sees. I’m not a seventeen-year-old kid, but the air he breathes, the one he comes home to each night. I let myself picture a world where he thinks about me when we’re not side by side.

  He laughs at something on the TV, jerking me out of my ridiculous fantasy.

  I lift my head pulling his attention from the show and gaze at his face. I see his eyes dart to my mouth and without a second thought, I lean in to kiss him. I’m just a hair’s breadth away from his lips when I feel his hand in my hair, pulling me back. I groan at the sensation it sends down my back.

  “Don’t,” he whispers.

  “You don’t want to kiss me?” My bravado takes a nosedive.

  “We can’t,” he says huskily.

  “I’m not a child,” I say lowering my eyes to his chest rather than the plush lips I want against my own.

  “You’re not eighteen either,” he says shifting me, so I’m back against his chest.

  I guess I should be glad he didn’t shove me away completely.

  “But you’re interested,” I state testing my luck.

  “You have no idea,” he says with a light chuckle.

  Chapter 18

  Khloe is sleeping soundly against my chest. We’ve somehow sunk lower on the bed, no longer sitting, but more of a lounged position. Her arm is crossed low on my stomach, and her leg is over mine. It’s comfortable, natural feeling almost.

  I know if I stay here, with her wrapped all the way around me, I’ll never get any sleep. The feel of her warm breath on my neck and the pressure of her body against mine is the sweetest torture I think I’ve ever endured.

  It takes me at least twenty minutes to slowly and methodically remove myself from the bed without waking her up. I stand above her, watching her sleep. I want to stay, but I know I have to leave to maintain my sanity.

  I creep out of her room and close the door softly behind me. Just as I’m thinking of what I should do to take care of the hard-on I’ve had since walking into her room, Snapper appears at the end of the hall, as if being beckoned.

  “Hey there, stranger,” she coos. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

  “Been busy,” I answer.

  “Want some company?” she asks sliding up to me.

  Any other day the answer would be a resounding yes. Tonight the idea of her, or anyone else for that matter, doesn’t sound appealing at all. Clearly I’ve lost my mind and Khloe is some kind of siren or succubus of some sort.

  “Not feeling it tonight, Snap.” I don’t even extend the offer to another night because in my mind I know there won’t be another moment spent with her so long as Khloe is in the picture.

  She reaches down and brazenly cups my cock.

  “You feel ready to me,” she says in what I’m sure she
thinks sounds seductive when in fact she sounds desperate and needy.

  I grab her wrist firmly but not enough to hurt her. “That’s not for you, doll.” I kiss her forehead as a consolation and walk away.

  She huffs behind me and grumbles something under her breath. She’s resourceful, and there are plenty of other guys here tonight to scratch whatever type of itch she may have. Snapper isn’t the jealous, vindictive type, so I know there won’t be any hard feelings.

  I lock myself in my room and hit the shower. I’m pretty sure jerking off to the images of Khloe I have stored in my head are almost as bad as touching her in real life. I also know trying to think of something else while I stroke myself will work two ways. One, I couldn’t replace her image with someone else, and two, if I could I wouldn’t be able to finish the task.

  I’ve had this horrid ache in my balls since she tried to kiss me earlier, and I somehow managed to prevent it from happening. Resisting her on the docks earlier was not easy, but also not the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Being able to keep it to just a sweet kiss on her bed while she’s wrapped in my arms? Impossible.

  Her name is on my lips when I coat the wall of the shower. My longing for her remains even when the ache in my balls subside.

  Restless, I dress quickly and head outside. Being close to her room and not crawling back in bed with her is inevitable. I notice the light on in the garage even at this late of an hour.

  “Can’t sleep either?” I ask Shadow as I pull each of us a beer from the fridge.

  I hand him his after he wipes his greasy hands on a rag.

  He doesn’t answer me, opting to drink half the beer in one gulp instead. He sets the beer to the side and begins tinkering with his motorcycle again. He keeps this thing in pristine condition, so I know there’s also something on his mind for him to be out here in the middle of the night just doing random shit to it.

  “I need a mission or something,” I say looking out the open door of the garage.

  I hear him chuckle. “Temptation is a bitch when you insist spending hours upon hours near it.”

  I take another sip of my beer. “Don’t I fucking know it,” I grumble.

  “Take a step back from her man. She’s only been here a few days. Can’t be that hard.” Shadow says still looking at his bike.

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I feel addicted to her.” I sigh, clearly the man doesn’t understand. He loves women of all kinds, but to say he’s ever been addicted to one like I am to Khloe, hardly.

  “That’ll change once you fuck her,” he says almost absently, as if he’s got more on his mind than talking about my obsession with a certain auburn-haired young woman.

  I huff a laugh. “Maybe,” I agree.

  I seriously doubt it though. Khloe seems like the girl who not only has gotten under my skin, but like she’s going to turn my world upside down. I should be terrified of the idea. Before she came along, I’d been working on a little sexual project of my own.

  We go on missions all over the place. When I first joined the Cerberus MC, I came up with the off the wall plan to sleep with a woman in every single country we visit. For the most part, it has gone off without a hitch. One or two places we’ve had to leave quickly to follow leads that haven’t allowed it, but generally I’m able to check off every single country.

  The thought of continuing the plan I’ve become famous for in the club feels a lot like it just did an hour ago in the hallway with Snapper. No desire. No excitement on what kind of woman I can find on our next outing. I feel like I need to leave, to get away from her for a while, but the same excitement and anticipation of fulfilling part of the plan isn’t there.

  If I’m being one hundred percent honest with myself, I kind of love the torture I feel in my bones when I’m around her. If and when I touch her, taste her, and fill her, it will change me into a different man. Honestly, I can wait. I can hold off a couple of weeks because in the end I know she’s worth every single minute of torment I feel right now.

  “You heard from Misty?”

  Misty is a woman Shadow was seeing while we were in Denver a few months back, helping Kincaid’s cousin search for his abducted girlfriend. I know they met up again weeks ago when we went back up there for the wedding. He’s been off, more quiet than usual since we returned.

  I hear a wrench clatter to the concrete floor causing me to raise my eyes to him.

  He narrows his eyes at me, but not in a menacing way. His expression doesn’t say leave my business alone; it seems he wants to talk about it, but it’s out of character for him. Kincaid is usually his go to, but Kincaid has been busy as of late with Emmalyn.

  I raise my eyebrows at him in an ‘I told you my shit, now spill’ expression.

  He picks up the wrench and begins tinkering on the bike again. “She wants more.”

  I nod. Most women do. Most women aren’t okay with having sex regularly with men and then getting nothing but orgasms in return. That’s why most of us guys don’t do the repeat thing. It has a lot to do with why, other than the girls at the clubhouse who know the score, I stick with women in different countries.

  “I told her I wasn’t available for anything other than what we were doing. She was upset, but said she understood.”

  They all say that, too. Unless they’re stage five clingers, they usually agree to the status quo or reject the guy altogether.

  “We continued to text off and on, but the last couple of days she hasn’t responded to the texts.”

  I smile. Big bad Shadow, MC Vice President, has been ghosted by a twenty-year-old teaching assistant in Denver.

  “You’re hung up on her,” I state simply.

  “You’re hung up on Khloe,” he counters.

  My smile is from ear to fucking ear as he raises his eyes to mine.

  “And I can admit it,” I say bringing to light the fact he didn’t respond directly about Misty. “Hell, I just turned down a blow job and night of sex with Snapper, because it didn’t feel right, and I haven’t even dipped my stick in Khloe. I can’t even imagine where you’re at with Misty, having sampled the goods.”

  He chuckles softly.

  “You like her,” I say. “Just man up and see where it goes.”

  “I’m drawn to her,” he says. “I’m sure it’s best that she’s stopped responding to me. I don’t need a woman that fickle.”

  “None of us do, man,” I tell him downing the last of my beer and tossing the empty bottle into the trash. “See you in the morning.”

  I only agreed with him because it’s what he wants to hear. He’s older than me. He’s lived longer and experienced more, but even in my nonexistent relationship wisdom, I know that any woman can only take so much. They won’t hang around forever, especially when they’re being told, nothing more would come of it.

  He’ll move on. Someone else will spark his interest. It always does.

  I jump on my bike and head out. There’s no way I can go back inside and keep from making a left at her room rather than turning right to go to mine.

  Chapter 19

  My stomach falls when I roll over in bed and find it empty. I knew I pushed too hard last night. I never should have tried to kiss him. He says he’s interested in me. He’s kissed me twice when I asked. Yet, he rejected me last night when I tried.

  “You’re not eighteen.” His statement from last night rattles through my head. He didn’t explain himself. He didn’t offer to take things further once my birthday passes. I can make an assumption of his intentions, but that’s burned me in the past.

  Hell, I did that last night when I fell asleep against his chest, but here I am in the light of day and he’s gone. The last time that happened… well, if I’m going on historical events, one of the club girls should be wearing his shirt in the kitchen this morning.

  Telling myself to act like a grown woman rather than a child, I shower quickly and dress in the clothes Kid retrieved for me yesterday. I even slip my legs into one of the pairs of lac
y underwear he had purchased for me, hoping that it will act as some sort of armor if I see one of the other girls wearing the Minecraft shirt he had on yesterday.

  I let out a long, harsh breath and make my way to the kitchen. There are a handful of people still eating and chatting amongst themselves. Thankfully, Emmalyn and Kincaid are in the bunch. Emmalyn smiles brightly and gives me a little wave as I walk in. I dart my eyes around as inconspicuously as possible and feel relief wash over me when I don’t see the bright red shirt I knew was going to torture me this morning.

  I grab a few things on a plate and sit down beside Emmalyn. Kincaid nods his head briefly then turns his attention to one of the other bikers sitting beside him.

  “You settling in okay?” Emmalyn asks.

  “Yes,” I say with an appreciative smile. “I’m very grateful for the hospitality.”

  “If you need anything or someone to talk to, I’m here,” she offers. “It wasn’t so long ago that I was brought here. It’s a lot to get used to.”

  I take a few more bites of food before speaking again. “I feel,” I pause trying to decide on the best word to use. “Useless. I’d like to do something to help out. I hate feeling like a freeloader. I turn eighteen next month. If I’m still here I can get a job and help with bills or something. But right now I just feel like a bum.”

  Kincaid cuts his eyes to me. “The women here don’t have to work.” I swallow roughly at the tone of his voice. “If this is where you want to be, you stay as long as you like. But don’t for a second feel like you owe this club something, you don’t.”

  I nod my head because arguing with the burly biker president is not an option.

  Emmalyn nods at me and pats him on the arm in a calming fashion.

  “I’d like to help out around here,” I whisper to her. “If anything to just stay busy.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. I was heading into town in a bit to get things for the garden. You’re more than welcome to join me. Rose is out of town for a few days so the company would be nice.”