“You drink Coke? Because if not, your choices are apple juice or water,” she called from inside the little kitchen.
“Coke’s fine,” Gunner replied, opening the box for a slice of pizza. He stared down at it, wondering what the hell he’d paid for. “This doesn’t have any meat on it. We should call them and complain.”
“I didn’t order any meat. I eat it with mushrooms, bell peppers, and cheese.”
Gunner grunted and grabbed the largest slice. He was too hungry to complain about the lack of meat, but she wasn’t allowed to order the pizza next time. Margo came from the kitchen carrying two Cokes and some napkins that were tucked under her arm. She glared at him and the slice of pizza he was holding. She held out the Coke and he took it in one hand setting it in front of him on the table ready to take a large bite. Before he could, Margo grabbed it out of his hand, lying it on a napkin she’d torn off. He reached for it only to get his hand smacked and another glare from her.
“I get to choose my slices and that one’s mine because it has a lot of bell peppers. You can have this one,” she growled, handing him the thinnest slice with hardly any toppings on it.
“Woman, I paid. I should get the slices I want.”
“Here, now I paid. Eat what I give you and be glad I’m not kicking you out,” Margo said, handing him another thin slice. Gunner ignored the money she’d laid next to his napkin after digging it out of her pocket where she must have shoved it earlier. He grabbed the box of wings, opening them while taking two out, and began eating them. When she reached over after setting two more small slices on his napkin, he jerked the box back towards his chest.
“Nope, these are mine, that was the deal.” Gunner grinned when she glared at him and stared longingly at the box as he ate another wing. Deciding to take pity on her, he bargained.
“Half your cookie and you can have two wings.”
“No, I’m not sharing my cookie,” Margo refused, grabbing her large slice of pizza and taking a bite before letting out that little moan he remembered from the picnic, making him shift uncomfortably on the couch as he ate his own food. Gunner didn’t say anything as Margo grabbed the remote turning on the TV. He was expecting to end up watching some Lifetime movie, so when she set the remote down after putting on a Bates Motel rerun, he was a little surprised.
“You like this show?” He asked, curious if she’d just put it on because he was here, or if she really watched the show.
“Shhh, I haven’t seen this one. I forget to record them and this is the last season, so shut up and eat my damned wings.” Margo shot him a little glare and he couldn’t help the chuckle as they both settled in. He’d already seen this one, but he didn’t mind watching it again.
Chapter Six
Loud snoring woke Gunner and he jerked his pillow over his head trying to drown out the sound. Who the fuck had crashed in his room this time? It wasn’t uncommon waking up to find one of his brothers in his room. Or hell, in his bed, when they were really drugged out or drunk. He really did need to find the time to repair the lock on his door, it would save him from uninvited guests. Another loud snore escaped from whoever had woken him as an arm smacked across his chest. He let out a loud sigh, this had to be Chaos. He was the only one who snored that loud. Gunner pulled the pillow away from his face because there was no way he was going back to sleep.
Once he was up, he was up—cat napping had never been something he was good at. He opened his eyes, staring at a hot pink ceiling fan. Wait, what the hell? He glanced around the room noting the sheer explosion of color that was splashed across the room. There were red and blue bean bag chairs near the wall, paint rags everywhere, neon yellow curtains, and each of the walls were a different color. It seemed like whoever had decorated couldn’t decide on a single color, so they put them all into the room.
Shit, now he remembered that he’d fallen asleep after carrying Margo to her bed last night. He hadn’t however turned on the light, and now he was glad he hadn’t. Geez, he was never sleeping here again. His cock rose like a flag as he glanced at her form covered in a mountain of blankets. Fuck, who was he kidding. He would sleep here, but he might lose some eyesight staring at all these bright colors. After watching her sleep for a long moment on the couch, he’d decided to stay, even though he fully expected an angry outburst over his choice, he’d done it anyway.
Another loud roar escaped her and he stared in shock. He couldn’t figure out why she was suddenly snoring like she brought a chainsaw to bed with her, when last night it had been cute little snuffles. Propping himself up on his elbow, he stared at her, seeing that she’d turned on her back, but surely that wasn’t why she was snoring so loud, was it? He decided to test it and see. He slowly rolled her onto her side and two seconds later the little huffy snores he’d thought were cute last night were puffing past her pursed lips. Gunner couldn’t believe those loud sounds had been coming from the woman lying next to him.
Shaking his head, he climbed out of the bed and headed into the living room. Upon seeing the mess they’d left on the coffee table last night, he decided to clean up. Yeah, his OCD was kicking in again because fifteen minutes later he found himself sitting on the floor trying to get all the paint rags from under her couch. All the tables were cleared and he’d started a load to wash the rags, and done the dishes. He’d also taken her trash bag and set it beside the door. He’d take it out when he was finished.
Margo rolled over eyeing the clock with a little groan. It was only seven thirty and she wanted to go back to sleep, but she could hear a vacuum running in the apartment. Margo wracked her brain as to who might be vacuuming her floors at seven in the morning, but she came up empty. Crawling out of bed, she stumbled to the door opening it to see a half-dressed Gunner running the vacuum. She stared, a bit shocked for two reasons; one, she didn’t know why he was still here and two, he was cleaning her apartment and had been for a while because it was cleaner than it had been when she’d moved in.
She knew she was a bit of a slob, but she lived alone and didn’t worry about cleaning unless she was having someone over. She was typically working in her studio or watching her shows and she didn’t feel like spending all day cleaning shit up just so it could get messed up an hour later. She never left food around for more than a day, she washed her clothes, and washed the dishes, that was it. Well, she did change her sheets once a week. Gunner was even sexier half-naked than she’d thought he’d be, the tattoos only adding to the appeal.
He had one on the side of his neck of a spider web, complete with a small spider, and tribal bands on his arms. He looked damn fine. Margo grabbed a sketch pad from a shelf sitting down on the footstool nearby and began sketching like mad. Gunner continued vacuuming, unaware that she was sketching his chiseled abs for future paintings. She was almost done with her second sketch when he shut off the vacuum and turned seeing her perched on the footstool with the pad balanced on her legs and her charcoal etching pencil in her hand.
“You're awake.” Gunner said, looking sheepish. “I guess the vacuum woke you, huh.”
Margo noted with surprise that he was looking around the room in a sort of dazed awe, as if he had no idea what had happened. She had a feeling he’d somehow ended up cleaning her living room on some sort of autopilot. Huh, he had OCD. She’d bet her life on it.
“I—shit. Well, sometimes I do this.” Gunner said, motioning to the clean room as if a little bewildered as to what had happened. “The cl—um, yeah so you want to go somewhere with me today?”
Margo thought about that for a long moment before answering as she watched him wind the cord on the vacuum up a few times, then stopping to unwind it because it wasn’t perfect. He did it three times before he managed to get it wrapped up to his satisfaction.
“Where? Because I don’t want to go where there are a lot of people. I’m likely going to get larger blisters sometime today, if these haven’t already turned into them.” Margo gesturing to the pink spots on her face.
Gunner walked closer, looking down at her face, tilting her head by cupping her chin in his hand so he could evaluate the places she was indicating. He frowned a little as he inspected the areas where she’d gotten the oil from the poison ivy on her the day she’d hidden in the bushes. It was a little-known fact that oil was why you didn’t see results for several days to a week sometimes. It took time for it to work its way into your skin.
“No large blisters yet. Are you that allergic to it?” Gunner asked, still frowning.
“Yes, last year I helped the church clear out a playground on the west side of their property and got into it. I didn’t go to the doctor for several days after they started and the blisters were awful.” Margo shrugged, her eyes staring up into his, her heart picking up speed as her breath came in little pants all of a sudden. Gunner was a beautiful man and his hands on her skin felt like brands. His thumb was rubbing absently across her cheeks where he still cupped her face.
“You need to see a doctor today then,” he ordered. His hands tightened as if he was preparing for her to argue with him. Margo rolled her eyes.
“I already did. As a matter of fact, I need to wash my face and reapply the steroid cream she gave me.” She didn’t move though, she just stared up at him, her lips parting slightly. Margo’s body was almost liquid, as the desire for Gunner roared through her reminding her it had been a really long time since she’d gotten laid.
“You haven’t answered my question yet,” Gunner said, his head lowering as his lips neared hers, making her racing pulse speed up; hearing a roaring in her ears as desire assaulted her.
“What question?” she asked, her eyes focused on his lips hovering a few inches from her own, her mind unable to process what he was talking about.
“Are you going to allow me to take you somewhere?”
“Sur—wait, where?” Margo asked, her mind still hazed with her desire for this man to touch her.
“It’s a surprise.” Gunner enticed, his mouth moving another inch towards hers.
“I don’t know,” Margo said, trying to break free from the spell his nearness was casting over her runaway libido.
“You do know. Now say yes, babe,” Gunner murmured as his lips came closer, almost brushing over hers, his breath teasing her lips.
“Yes,” Margo found herself whispering, caught in the pull he was using to entrap her.
He smiled, “Good.”
Gunner’s hand moved to the back of her neck and his lips crashed down on hers. His tongue speared through her lips caressing her mouth in a commanding stroke of dark desire that promised her nights of hot passion and multiple orgasms. She couldn’t help the light moan that puffed past her lips as he continued to assault her lips with hard little nips and searching thrusts of his tongue. Their tongues twirled, fighting for dominance in an ancient language of desire that had her body leaning into his as she lost herself in the need that he unleashed inside her. Her hands rose to grip his bare shoulders, feeling his hard muscles tense, as she gripped them. The intensity of his assault on her mouth increased, making her head spin. Margo was consumed by her need for a man she barely knew and shouldn’t want. She should have more willpower than this because she wasn’t typically this easy. Only as she stood there accepting the rough kiss he was bestowing on her, did she realize that if he’d lifted her and carried her to the nearest hard surface, she’d let him fuck her brains out. The desire burning between them was searing.
That was the moment Margo realized that Gunner was definitely dangerous. He was the type of man she normally avoided, the type who wasn't likely to create a lasting relationship and had a fear of commitment. She really should know better, being as she had already been down this road before. Even as these thoughts pushed past her desire, she pressed her body into his, feeling his hard chest press against her hardened nipples through her thin shirt. Her hands clinging to his hard, muscular shoulders, with her nails digging into his skin slightly as she moaned again. Her body was flooding with heat and burning needs so strong they frightened her, and he’d only kissed her.
What would happen if he actually fucked her?
Gunner groaned and jerked away from her, reaching down to adjust his cock as he stepped back from her. A look of need crossed his face as his eyes swept up, then back down her body and landed on her hardened nipples. He licked his lips as he tried valiantly to pull his eyes back to hers but couldn’t manage it. His hand rubbed against his hardened dick without shame before he spoke in a dark gravelly tone that sent desire skittering down her spine.
“Go get your shower and whatever, we need to leave—,” his eyes moved over her again and he squeezed his thick cock through his jeans. “Soon, now go before I change my mind.”
Margo didn’t argue despite her already thrumming body, because she knew if she didn’t leave the room, one of them would lose control. She didn’t want to sleep with a man before they’d even went on a single date because that was just too slutty for her to handle. She turned and rushed back into her room, ignoring the sketch pad she’d dropped on the floor when she’d stood up to stretch after he’d finished with the vacuum.
Chapter Seven
Gunner felt Margo’s hand slip down a little closer to his cock, making him groan. After spending twenty minutes trying to calm down after that kiss they’d shared, he realized that his cock wasn’t going down until it was inside her and had given up trying. Touching her was like holding a live wire and the kiss they’d shared had scared him a little because the whole time he’d wanted nothing more than to consume her. He’d never understood when his brothers said they couldn’t get a woman out of their head, which was why they’d made them their old ladies, not until today.
Right about the second he’d been ready to crash into her bedroom and jerk her to the bed, she’d come out dressed in a pair of black leather short shorts that made his mouth water and a light pink top. Her hair was streaked with purple and she was wearing a chunky pink necklace with bows and skulls on it. Her feet were encased in black leather half-boots that had a loose fit and shifted every time she walked. Gunner wanted to lick her legs from her ankles to her pussy, but he’d managed to get his libido under control and drag her out the door. He couldn’t help the little smile that reached his lips when he realized that the pink in her outfit was a nod to the calamine lotion she was still wearing all over her face and legs.
He was a bit surprised that the outfit she’d chosen was a lot less conservative than what she’d worn at the picnic. He liked this version of her better. Maybe the green dress had been for her mother’s benefit. He understood that, after all, he’d done the same thing. Being in the MC was something he needed to figure out how to tell her. Only he wasn’t sure what to say because blurting out ‘by the way I’m in a biker gang’ might not go over well. Hell, she’d almost balked when she’d seen the bike and he hadn’t even told her about the club. He could still remember that stubborn tilt to her chin as she’d insisted they take her car. He’d refused, because cages weren’t his thing. He always felt hemmed in when he got in one and once a month was more than enough for him.
He slowed down, leaning a little to the right as he took the curve feeling her body lean with him; her hands slipping another inch toward his cock. Gunner was glad they were almost to the little waterfall he’d found out by the canyons because his cock was aching like a sore thumb. It wanted to be inside her badly. He came to a halt just outside the hiking trail that led to the waterfall. He cut the engine and waited while she got off the bike, her legs a little wobbly. She reached out catching herself on his shoulder. Gunner had been prepared for it and helped her steady herself before he climbed off the bike too. He reached into his saddle bags pulling out the little basket he’d found in her kitchen this morning as he’d waited on her. He’d made some sandwiches, grabbed some of her fruit, and a bottle of wine to complete the little picnic. Gunner pulled out the blanket he always carried and turned to her again.
“Is that my basket?” Margo asked, l
ooking a little bewildered at the sight of the small square basket he’d filled with food and hidden before she got out of the shower.
“Yep.”
“You just make yourself at home, don’t you? First, you cleaned my place and then you take my stuff. I’m not sure I like that yet,” Margo groused, her eyes narrowed a little on him.
“You will. Now let’s get moving, it’s a bit of a hike,” he told her grinning. She followed him down the path silently, but he was gratified by a little gasp when she saw the waterfall he’d brought her to.
“Wow,” she gasped, as she moved closer to the waterfall that crashed down on the rocks from the canyon above. It was lush and green around the pool, making it look like a virtual paradise. Gunner smiled as he moved to a long flat rock near the edge of the pool and spread out the blanket before cupping her elbow and leading her to sit down, already laying her sketch book and pencil in her hand. He’d gathered those into the basket when he’d gotten everything ready, anticipating her need to draw the falls after flipping through two of her sketch books laden with drawings. Margo was an artist and she apparently drew constantly. He’d stolen one of the two sketches she’d done of him this morning because the way she’d drawn him spoke of the passions she felt for him. He could almost feel the heat coming off the drawing as he’d looked at it.
“Thanks,” Margo uttered quietly before she became lost in her art just as deeply as he sometimes lost himself in his need to clean. It was something he’d never been able to shake no matter how old he got. He’d find himself suddenly organizing his bullets or cleaning the clubhouse common rooms. Gunner would be halfway through the room with beer bottles, used condoms, and drugs all gathered into different trash bins. His hands encased in the gloves he had stashed all over the club for when his switch got flipped and he went on autopilot again. The boys made fun of him about it, but it was something he couldn’t help and he wasn’t ashamed of it. At least he wasn’t a slob like most of those bastards were. He would bet that one of them had broken his lock just so they didn’t have to sleep in their own filthy room.
Caught (Grave Diggers MC Book 2) Page 5
