Kid: Cerberus MC Book 2

by Marie James

  “I don’t know the first thing about gardening,” I confess.

  She shrugs. “Neither do I, but I Googled it. How hard can it be?”

  I hear Kincaid snort a quick laugh, but he doesn’t say anything to discourage us.

  I finish my breakfast and gather my things at the table. “Let me change and I’ll be right back. You were planning to go now, right?”

  She laughs at my enthusiasm to get out of here. “Yes.”

  I don’t know much about gardening, but I do know it involves dirt. Since I dressed to impress in my favorite jeans, I had to change into something I didn’t mind getting stained.

  Five minutes is all it takes to get changed into something more garden-friendly and pull my hair back. Emmalyn is waiting for me near the front door, along with Snatch, the extremely tattooed biker. My steps falter when I realize that they’re both waiting for me.

  Noticing my dismay, Emmalyn takes a step forward. “I’m not a girly-girl, but Kincaid said that we’re going to need lots of bags of dirt and stuff. I don’t plan on lifting a bunch of heavy bags. Snatch is going to tag along and do the lifting for us.”

  Snatch grins ear to ear like he’s beyond excited to be helpful.

  We turn toward the door and Emmalyn loops her arm through mine. “Plus,” she whispers in my ear. “Kincaid doesn’t want us leaving the clubhouse without one of the guys, in case there’s trouble.”

  Trouble? What kind of trouble could we possibly encounter buying dirt and flowers from a hardware store?

  “Got it,” I say as we make our way to the SUV parked in the front of the house.

  ***

  The trip to Lowe’s was… entertaining. Snatch, the scary biker, sang to every one of the Top 20 songs that played on the radio. I would’ve stereotyped him as either an old school rock n’ roll type or heavy metal, and I would’ve been wrong. Add in the behind-the-wheel dance moves and I can honestly say I’m no longer afraid to be in the same room with him anymore.

  Kincaid was right about the heavy lifting. I’m just a hair over five feet-three inches, and there would’ve been no way I could lug all the bags of dirty fertilizer, and mulch. Snatch was very helpful in that aspect.

  When Emmalyn mentioned working in the garden, I assumed for some reason that she was talking about fruits and vegetables. Instead of stopping in that area of the nursery, she went straight to the beautiful array of flowers on display.

  “I thought you were going to grow okra and tomatoes,” I tell her as she makes her way around the various flats of flowers.

  She huffs. “I watched a few videos, and there’s no way I’m that dedicated to that idea. Growing food takes a lot of work.”

  Snatch trails behind us with a pull cart, waiting for her to point at the ones she wants.

  “Any idea what kind you want?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” she says. “They all look so… bush like.”

  Snatch laughs. “We’re in the middle of the desert, Em.”

  She frowns, but points to a few of the most colorful plants, and Snatch loads them on the cart. A few minutes in line at the checkout and we’re loaded up and heading back to the clubhouse.

  “It’s so damn hot out here,” Emmalyn says an hour later as she wipes her brow with the back of her hand.

  “Pretty warm,” I respond looking up at the New Mexico sun blaring down on us.

  She decided the clubhouse needed some curb appeal, so we’re planting the flowers on either side of the steps leading to the front door.

  I hear another motorcycle pull up, but this time, I don’t stop my work to see who it is. Bikers have been coming and going all day, but none of them have been Kid. I haven’t asked Emmalyn about him because I don’t want to seem overeager.

  A shadow crosses over my back, causing me to stop digging in the dirt. I look and see Kid standing behind me. He’s smiling, but he looks absolutely exhausted. I roll my lips behind my teeth as I stand to greet him. I want to ask him where he’s been, what he’s been doing, but I know I have no right.

  “It’s good to see you out of your room,” he says reaching up and stroking his finger across my cheek. I almost groan at the contact. Crazy how much I missed him today; it’s only been twelve or so hours since I saw him last. “Dirt,” he says pulling his hand away and showing me the smudge on his fingertips.

  “I’m filthy,” I say looking down at my yoga pants and t-shirt that was light blue a few hours ago. It’s now covered in dirt and grime.

  He cracks a mischievous grin.

  “I’ll let you ladies get back to it,” he says turning toward Emmalyn and kissing her on the head as he passes.

  I bristle. Not at the fact that he gave her a friendly peck on the head, but because he didn’t grace me with the same.

  I work a little longer, but the urge to go inside and see him keeps me from focusing on the task at hand.

  “I’m going to grab us some water,” I tell Emmalyn as I climb the stairs leading to the doorway.

  “That’d be great,” she says with a knowing grin.

  I know there are a few of the guys here, but I’m grateful none of them are in the main room as I make my way to the kitchen. I frown, finding this room empty as well. I grab two cold bottles of water from the fridge and hold one to the back of my neck.

  As I turn to leave, Kid walks into the kitchen. Startled at my presence there, he stops in his tracks. I smile brightly at him when all I really want to do is run into his arms. That would be childish, so I refrain.

  We each cross the room and meet in the middle.

  “I missed you today,” he says tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

  “I missed you this morning when I woke up alone.”

  “I had to go for a ride, clear my head,” he says softly.

  “What’s got your head all fogged up?” I’m near breathless as he takes a step closer.

  “You,” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath teasing the stray loose hair at my nape.

  A tingle of arousal runs down my back, goosebumps gracing my skin.

  “Is that so?” I ask tilting my head slightly to give him better access if he so chooses to need it.

  “Ummhmm.”

  I hear him take a deep breath, and momentarily I become self-conscious, afraid I stink since I’ve been working outside and sweating.

  “You smell incredible,” he says easing my fears.

  He pulls his head back slightly only to fix his eyes on my mouth.

  “Kiss me,” I whisper. It’s worked twice in the past, so I’m taking my chances again.

  I hear a low rumble from his chest and let my eyes flutter closed, waiting for the soft brush of his lips against mine.

  His lips crash against mine, and I barely have time to register the scratch of his beard against my skin before I moan, giving his tongue access to mine. I drop the bottles of water I was holding and wrap my arms around his neck. The lick of his tongue into my mouth can be felt all the way to my core, the echo of his licks settling there.

  Jesus, I’ve never been so aroused in my life.

  I take that back, because when he hitches my leg up high on his hip and rolls his hips against my center, I grow even needier. The feel of his hardness against my delicate flesh is the most erotic thing I’ve felt in my life.

  He pulls his mouth from mine, and I whimper. His mouth makes contact with my neck, licking, sucking. I lace my fingers in the fabric of his shirt and pull him harder against me. I have no idea what I’m doing, but somehow instinct has taken over. I rotate my hips against him, needing more than he’s giving.

  “Touch me,” I pant as his teeth graze the delicate skin of my shoulder. Where, I don’t even care. Cup my face, squeeze my ass, strip me down and take me on one of the kitchen tables. At this point, I’m not picky in the slightest.

  His mouth stops, and he pulls back slightly. He looks at my face, and as if reassessing what we’ve just done he takes another step back, breaking his contact with my body.r />
  “I can’t, Khloe.” My face falls and tears sting the back of my eyes.

  This has everything to do with my age and nothing to do with how he really feels and what he wants to do to me. I glance down, his hard erection straining in his jeans confirms that fact.

  “I won’t tell anyone,” I barter.

  “But I’ll know.” His face is full of need, but resolve is there as well. “It’s only a month,” he says as if he needs to convince himself.

  “Seems like forever,” I say dropping my head and bending down to get the bottles of water that rolled away during our passionate, yet short lived kiss.

  Tired of not knowing what is actually going on between us I decide to take a leap. “What is this,” I say motioning between us.

  “I don’t know,” he says scrubbing his hand over his face.

  “Are you waiting for me?”

  “I won’t touch you until you turn eighteen, Khloe.”

  I give him a slight nod, kiss his cheek, and walk away. Not exactly the answer I was wanting. I didn’t expect him to profess his undying love for me, but I was hoping he’d confirm that the only thing keeping us from being together is the twenty-six days until my eighteenth birthday.

  Chapter 20

  A week and a half. Khloe has been at the clubhouse eleven days. Two hundred and sixty-four hours of absolute torture. Fifteen-thousand eight-hundred-forty seconds of damn near irresistible temptation.

  I’ve held her in my arms every night since the kiss in the kitchen. I’ve kissed her lips sweetly, just like the first two times I had my lips on hers. Just when I think my resolve is ironclad, she wakes up and rubs herself against my legs, or says something suggestive in my ear. Her sleeping attire has grown increasingly smaller, but I’ve stuck to requiring she sleep under the covers and I sleep on top.

  I woke up this morning to her stroking her fingers up and down my abdomen, coming within an inch of my straining morning wood. I told her to stop, and she wasn’t very happy about it. We argued about her age and why I’m not going to touch her until she’s eighteen.

  She argued that it’s inevitable, and we might as well go all the way. I insisted that we wait. She smiled, and I thought I’d convinced her. Then she told me to leave, and not to come back until I was willing to put my hands on her in some other place than her back or arms.

  Now I’m sitting in the main room watching her flirt with Snatch. Seems he’s not as scary as she originally thought. In this moment, I wish he was a giant asshole, but I know he’s one of the nicest guys we have in the clubhouse. I’m grateful she’s chosen him to try to make me jealous.

  I was on to her plan the minute she chose to sit with him, rather than curl up beside me like she has been doing. I chuckled to myself at first. She may only be seventeen, but she has the woman scorned routine down pat.

  One beer, while watching her smile up at him, turned into more than half a dozen by the time she was brazen enough to start running her fingers up his forearm. I know exactly what that feels like. My body remembers her touch more than anything I’ve ever felt.

  I’d say she’s acting childish, but making a man jealous by flirting with a friend is the oldest trick in the book, and by no means relegated to teenagers. Wars have started from the exact same shit I’m witnessing right now.

  I feel a tap on my shoulder. Certain it’s one of the other guys, I turn my head to him. I’m happily surprised to see the bright green eyes of Snapper. She angles her head in a quick jerk. Without looking back at Khloe and her flirting with Snatch, I stand from the couch, gently place my empty beer bottle on the side table, and follow Snapper out of the room, all the while allowing her to hold my hand as we make our exit.

  Two can play games if that’s what she wants. The only difference is Snapper is completely legal, and I’m well aware of how her mouth and pussy feel wrapped around my cock.

  My head is spinning by the time we make it to my room. She closes the door quietly and stalks across the floor until she’s right in front of me. She practically purrs as her hands run from my stomach, up my pecs, and finally resting around my neck.

  “I’ve missed you, baby,” she says in a seductive whisper, that when used every other time, made me rock solid in seconds. Tonight? Nothing. Not even a twitch.

  Snapper, not being one to miss a thing notices my less than active involvement in the moment. “She’s got you all tied up, doesn’t she?”

  I nod and lick my lips, wishing for just tonight things were different. I feel guilty for momentarily wishing my life would’ve never been complicated by that beauty sitting damn near on Snatch’s lap. The ache in my constant blue balls is the only thing making me wish such a terrible thing. I clear my throat. I’m a grown ass man, and if I can’t keep my dick from thinking for me for a few weeks, then I don’t even deserve to be able to touch an amazing woman like Khloe.

  Snapper grins up at me, steps back, and pats my chest. “She’s a lucky girl, Kid.”

  She turns and leaves me alone in my dark room. I grumble in frustration and make my way to the shower. The blast of cold sobers me up slightly. I hate the sting of the frigid water on my skin but welcome the fact that it shrivels my nuts. Maybe they’ll stay hidden for a while because I want more than anything to go out there and snatch Khloe off my brother’s lap.

  It’s what I want to do to her once I have her that keeps me from doing just that. Looks like another night-long ride is in my future.

  I towel off quickly, knowing I need to get out of here before my resolve crumbles and I do something incredibly stupid.

  As if I’m not tempted enough with her in the same building, it seems the gods of provocation are against me. I stop dead in my tracks, finding Khloe in my bed. Not just in my bed but stark ass naked with a pout on her face.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  “Khloe,” I groan in frustration gripping the towel tighter at my waist.

  I dart my eyes to my closet where my clothes are and then the door to leave the room, wondering how quickly I can dress and get out of here.

  “Kid,” she says breathily.

  I keep my eyes on her face, because looking at any part of her naked body right now would be extremely dangerous. I see the pain in her eyes, and I feel guilty as hell.

  “Did you fuck her?” she asks softly, unable to hide the heartache in her words.

  I shake my head no. “I couldn’t even touch her.”

  “Come here,” she begs clutching at her breast and spreading her legs wider.

  “Khloe,” I sigh in frustration. “I won’t touch you either.”

  “You don’t have to,” she says letting her hand roam down her flat stomach. “Just watch.”

  I get closer but stand at the end of the bed, unable to take my eyes off her hand as it slides through her already slick center. My towel is getting tighter around my waist, the plush fabric fighting to hold my erection back.

  “Mmm,” she moans circling her clit.

  My mouth is watering; my breaths are short and uneven. I have fucked more women than I can even keep track of, but watching Khloe manipulate her fingers between her legs easily qualifies as the single most tantalizing thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

  She’s watching me with hooded eyes. My fingers itch to feel her soft skin under them. My cock wants nothing more than to sink inside of her and stay there as long as she’ll allow it. I know the age of consent is seventeen in New Mexico, but I’m from Tennessee where it’s eighteen. My mother harped on me for as long as I can remember after graduating high school that girls under that magical number were off limits. It’s ingrained in my head.

  “Take off the towel.” I throb at her insistence, and against better judgement, I listen to my body rather than my head.

  The towel falls around my feet, and she smiles victoriously.

  “Magnificent,” she says not taking her eyes off of my proud, jutting cock.

  I know I can’t touch her, but the distance between us is killing me. I climb on the
end of the bed and sit back on my feet. My legs are spread wide, and the thrumming in my balls is almost unbearable.

  She closes her eyes and pushes her head deeper into the pillow.

  “Jesus,” I gasp at the erotic sight. I reach down and grip my cock firmly, stroking it from root to tip.

  She opens her eyes, noticing me stroking myself. “That’s so hot,” she says moving her fingers faster.

  “Put one inside of you.”

  She obeys, and her face immediately softens at the sensation, her eyelids growing increasingly heavy. The sight of her slender finger disappearing into her slick heat nearly has me coming. I grip my sac and tug it down a little because I want this to last forever.

  “So good,” she whimpers, adding a second finger.

  It’s astonishing how sexy this woman is on her back, one hand gripping her breast, and the other one buried in her pussy. I salivate upon seeing her fingers glisten on the up stroke. I swallow roughly when all I want to do is clean her fingers with my mouth and finish her off with my tongue.

  “Kid!” she moans. I watch, enthralled, as her body slightly convulses.

  “Fuck,” I say moving closer to her body.

  My orgasm hits full force, and instinctively I bend closer to her and release on her quivering stomach. Jet after jet of come marking her beautifully pale body.

  She pulls her fingers from her cleft and holds it away from her, a shyness suddenly taking over her features. I dip my head and suck her fingers in my mouth. Addicted. One simple taste and Khloe Devaro has me hooked.

  Chapter 21

  I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my entire life. Kid’s smell is surrounding me, invading my brain as if it has a right to be there. I don’t mind one bit.

  Last night was pure heaven. Did I act immature and try to make Kid jealous by flirting with Snatch? Of course I did. I can’t even say I regret it after the way our night ended. My heart broke nearly in two when he walked off with Snapper. I knew what they were going to do. I had an idea that it was going to end the way it did my first night here.