I thought about Big John. The same could be said about him, but there was absolutely nothing between us. One session of smoking hot sex didn’t a relationship make. I wasn’t even sure what there was between us, other than that one moment when we have given in to what had been building between us since we’d met. Maybe now that the sexual tension had been worked out he’d be done trying to intimidate me with his intense, smoldering looks.
Yeah, he hadn’t been intimidating me.
He’d been staking a claim.
And I’d liked it.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that now that I’d let him have me so easily.
Whew! I was getting warm just thinking about the big man. I tossed the carrots into the salad, staring down into the bowl to see if it was missing anything. If it had been up to me I would have added onions, radishes, and mushrooms, but there were children who would be sharing the salad. A pile of cucumber, celery, carrots, cheese squares, and sweet dried cranberries sat on a huge mound of lettuce. I picked up the tongs to mix everything together.
“How’s the salad coming?” Hawk’s wife, Audra, called from across the kitchen. She was removing a huge sheet of garlic bread from the oven.
“All done,” I smiled back at her. “Jasmine, can you get the salad dressings out of the fridge?”
“Sure.”
“We’ll bring the salad out first,” Allie chirped in, straining one of many colanders of spaghetti in a different sink on the other side of the room next to the stove. “Otherwise they’ll fall on the spaghetti like vultures and the salad will go to waste.”
Several laughs echoed through the huge kitchen. I was getting good at learning who the main women of the club were. Carol, whose only connection to the club was that she was Audra’s friend, had already taken out the bowls, plates, and silverware. Then there were Trish, Michelle, and Robin, who were wives of some of the club members. All of the ladies were sweet and easy going, the complete opposites of their spouses. Jasmine and I had already been invited to one of their girls’ nights out and a spa day. Michelle had suggested that it be at my salon, but I didn’t offer all the amenities they were looking for. Besides, who wanted spa day in their own place of work? I could do that anytime.
“Drinks are all set up.” Trish breezed through the swinging door from the restaurant.
“So are all the kids,” Robin added coming in right behind her. “Babies are strapped and locked into their highchairs, sippy cups in place.”
“Oh, and Clay and Big John have returned.” Trish shot me a wink.
Why did she give me a wink? Why not Jasmine? Jasmine and Clay were an item. I glanced at Jasmine, who was quickly exiting the kitchen with a kind of girlish excitement that made me smile in spite of it. Well, I wasn’t about to go out there running to Big John. I may have caught my breath at the sound of his name, my heart may have thumped a little harder in my chest, but not enough for me to make a fool of myself over that man. It was too soon for that.
The stupidity of that last thought wasn’t lost on me.
“Ready for the salad to go out?” I asked no one in particular.
“Yep.” Audra was the one who answered. “We’ll come back for the rest of the food when it’s time.”
One by one we filed out of the kitchen, and I brought up the rear with the huge bowl. I went directly to where the food was going to be set up. The ladies had done a nice job of fixing up a buffet style display, which seemed to work best for the amount of people present. As I made my way to the table I spied Jasmine and Clay, hand in hand, leaving the restaurant towards the direction of the bar. Their expressions revealed how captivated they were with each other, and it was clear that they were in a hurry to find a private corner somewhere for a more private welcome. Without being too obvious, I scanned the restaurant in search of Big John.
I tried not to feel hurt that he had not sought me out. After all, I was staying in his room. But I didn’t expect anything from the moody enforcer. I set the bowl down and turned to head back to the kitchen, halting abruptly when I pushed through the door to see Big John leaning against the counter, ankles crossed, looking all big and dangerous as he chugged down a beer. My heart jolted as our eyes clashed, and I felt a welcoming smile spread across my lips.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.
“Hi.”
He lowered the bottle. “Hi.”
He always wore such an intense expression. I swallowed. He appeared worn and dusty, as if he’d just come home from a hard day’s work. His hair was tussled, the sun lines on the weathered skin of his face appeared deeper than they had before he’d left. It was a look that was sexy as hell on him. “Thirsty?”
Without looking, he reached behind him and set the bottle of beer down onto the counter and then straightened. I didn’t miss the way that his gaze moved over me in a lazy way that made my pulse jump. I caught my breath, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by his presence. He reminded me of a predator sizing up his next meal.
Or a lion picking up on the scent of a mate in heat.
He nodded at my question, and then slowly made his way toward me. “And hungry.” Before I knew what was happening, his hands were sinking deep into my hair and he was jerking me against him until we were flush. “Been thinking about this,” he growled, lowering his head and covering my mouth with his.
What began as a soft touch of the lips quickly turned into a deeper connection that signaled the intensity of our feelings for each other. It wasn’t love, no, it was physical. Something basic and raw, all-consuming. I came alive the instant our tongues thrust against each other and danced in an age-old battle that fueled other wants and needs within our cores. Big John was already hard, and he was grinding his cock against my lower belly as if he were a randy teenager trying to get off. I moaned low, welcoming the wildfire that was surging through me, hoping that my submission would encourage him to do whatever he wanted. He responded to our increasing arousal with a deep groan, letting his hands slide down my back to cup my butt.
I dropped my hands to his bulging biceps, clenching into the unyielding muscle. His large hands squeezed my ass, lifting me up until his cock was level with my pussy. I wrapped my legs around him and instantly arched into his huge erection, remembering how he had filled me, suddenly wanting nothing more than for him to be inside of me again. I’d never reached this level of need so quickly before with any other man, and from just a single kiss. It frightened me.
It took my breath away.
I finally had to pull away so that I could catch my breath. But Big John didn’t let me go far, keeping me up against him. I was aware of his arousal as we panted harshly against each other, our mouths just inches apart. I met the intense need in his dark eyes and saw the rough stamp of desire that was controlling his expression. My heart was pounding, my blood racing. It would have been so easy to forget where we were, but the bright lights of the kitchen prevented me from doing that.
“I think we’d better slow down,” I said unnecessarily, and, if I were being honest, reluctantly.
“This is slow for me,” he growled. “And don’t think where we are will stop me from fucking you.” I raised my brows at his explicit admission. “Just a warning, baby. For the future.”
The future? That sounded encouraging, yet caused immediate doubts to enter in my head. What each of us wanted for our futures might be very different. I’d heard talk about him, some of the old ladies had carefully offered up tidbits to me, and I was sure that they’d meant them as a warning. Big John had always been a loner unless he was spending time with one of his brothers or being entertained by one of the sweetbutts, and he’d preferred it that way. So his fascination with me, a civilian, had come as a surprise to everyone in the club.
Before I could comment, he was brushing my mouth lightly with his again, drawing a whimper of need from me. Our pelvises were still grinding against each other and I shivered as his cock rubbed over my clit mercilessly. I leaned back. The smirk on Big John�
��s face revealed that he knew how he was affecting me. He was torturing me with a promise that he knew he couldn’t possibly deliver considering that anyone could walk in on us at any time.
In retaliation of pure frustration, I leaned forward and buried my teeth into the area where his neck and shoulder met. I didn’t break skin, but I knew it was hard enough to hurt. His grunt sounded loudly throughout the kitchen, and he pulled away sharply to meet my eyes. Eyes dilated, nostrils flaring, teeth bared, he sucked in a breath. It was not the reaction I’d been expecting. His expression looked positively feral, and in a move that seemed too quick for a man his size, he crowded me back against the fridge.
“Oh, little girl, that was a big mistake.” Unexplainably I laughed at his rumbling threat. “You think this is funny?” My amusement fled instantly when I felt Big John’s hand at the front of my jeans. What was he going to do? “You don’t know me yet, but you’re going to learn who I am fast.” He expertly undid the snap and zipper. “You’re going to learn what I like. And I like pain, baby.” My eyes rounded when he parted the material and slipped his hand down into the front of my pants. “Pain is a sure-fire way of getting me to attack this pussy.” Without warning, his finger parted my folds and slipped inside.
“Oh!” I cried out, burying my face against his shoulder to drown out the sound. Big John didn’t play around. His finger went in deep, pulled out to the tip, and then sank back inside. His thumb stroked against my swollen clit, and not softly, either. It was clear that his roughness was a sort of punishment for my biting him, but it was a chastisement that electrified me. I’d never associated pleasure with pain, but the sharp sting of his fingers made me wet and hot between my legs.
It didn’t occur to me to protest. My whole body jerked with a sharp, pleasant reaction as he finger-fucked me with a rough lack of control. My hips moved in rhythm with his thrusts, and when Big John curled those thick digits against my G-spot I exploded around him. I threw my head back against the fridge and convulsed, thankful as he took that moment to swallow my cries with a grinding, wet kiss.
Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! I chanted to myself every time I convulsed against Big John’s hand. His fingers were still buried inside me, his thumb pressing against my clit. I saw stars behind my closed eyes. I was satisfied and mortified at the same time. We were in the kitchen, where anyone could have come in, and still could, yet I couldn’t find the strength to care. Gradually his kisses grew tender, matching the calm that was moving over us, until we stilled against one another and the only thing left was the sound of our breathing.
“Jesus,” I breathed softly. “I can’t believe we just did that here in the kitchen.” I slowly lowered my legs when I realized that they were still around Big John’s waist. His fingers slipped out of my body, and he dragged his wet hand out of my pants. As I busied myself by doing up my pants, he held his hand up, letting me see that it was coated with my release. I felt my cheeks grow hot. “If someone had walked in−”
He smirked, satisfaction in his eyes, even though he still had an impressive hard-on pressing against his zipper. “No one did.”
“I’m too old for this kind of juvenile thing.”
Big John scoffed. “Baby, you’re never too old to enjoy sex.”
I quickly corrected him. “I don’t mean sex, I mean sex in the kitchen when there’s a hundred people just outside that door.”
“That’s what makes it feel so good.” God, he was right, but I wasn’t going to admit it to him. I’d never thought that I was the kind of person who would find it thrilling to do something so illicit when I could have gotten caught so easily.
As we stood staring at each other, Big John brought his hand up to his mouth, and my jaw dropped as he proceeded to suck my cream off his fingers. A mini-orgasm raked through my body, and fresh wetness soaked my panties. It was hot, and in a heartbeat he’d managed to turn me on again without half-trying. The man had magical powers, that had to be it. Well, why not?
He had the body of a God.
Chapter 13
Big John
Jesus. I was sitting in church and all I could think about was the taste of Daisy’s submission to me on my tongue. As soon as the sweet taste of her on my fingers had touched my fucking taste buds I’d almost come in my pants, like a fucking teenager. And I hadn’t missed the effect that my move had had on her either. Her pupils had dilated as her breath had hitched, and she’d flushed with renewed arousal. The act of watching me suck my fingers clean had turned her the fuck on.
It had been all I could do not to say, “fuck it” and pound the shit out of her right there up against the fridge. And as much as I’d wanted to sink my dick inside her and find my own release, the fact that Hawk had called church when Clay and I had returned was at the forefront of my mind. Well, maybe not the forefront, because I hadn’t wanted to leave Daisy. No, I’d wanted to drag her shapely little ass back to my room for some quality, hard-core, one-on-one action.
I shook my head to clear it, a little angry at myself over my fascination with the woman. Lusting over her outside of the meeting room was one thing, but bringing her inside not acceptable. There was no room for that fucking shit while I was sitting at the table with my brothers, discussing shit that would affect the club, talking about killing, which is what I did. I had blood on my hands. The same hands that had touched Daisy until she’d come undone in my arms.
I doubted that the knowledge of my role in the club would go over very well with Daisy. She wasn’t a sweetbutt. Those women were a different breed, who could be as dirty and devious as my brothers were when they needed to be. They liked knowing what a brother’s hands were capable of doing, liked to paint their bodies with it. Trouble didn’t send them running. They knew how to handle most situations, unless it had to do with a brother that they wanted. Sometimes they forgot what they were there for. Marnie had forgotten that in a huge fucking way, her insane jealousy almost getting Rock’s woman, Allie, killed.
“Where’s your head at, brother?”
I glanced over at Rock, my expression set so fucking hard it was a wonder that my jaw didn’t crack. “Wrapped around ending Shooter and Whistler,” I snapped. It pissed me off that they’d managed to escape. By the time we’d made it to our bikes and had taken off in the general direction that they’d gone, they’d had too much of a head start. We’d followed their trail from where they’d stashed their bikes to a camp road that had led to an asphalt highway, and had then promptly lost them.
Then we’d returned to the house where Clay and Jumper had taken care of Demo’s body while I’d spent time with the women. It turned out that there’d been another woman in the back bedroom all along. My job was to convince them of the importance of staying quiet. By the time we’d left, there had been no doubt about what would happen to them if we found out that they’d been talking about what went down. It turned out that they liked breathing.
“We sure about the women?”
Clay snorted, sinking lower into his seat. “They seemed good and subdued by the time we left.”
He was right. They’d been terrified by that point, crying hysterically and thanking us for not hurting them. Fuck, we didn’t like hurting women and avoided it at all costs, but sometimes it was necessary. The safety of the club came first, always.
“Do we need to put a prospect on them to make sure they remain loyal?” Hawk asked, taking a hit off one of the joints that was being passed around the table. He didn’t usually smoke, but I guessed that having the club on lockdown and the place filled with families was getting to our prez, especially when three of those family members included his pregnant wife and their other two little ones. Who could blame him?
Jumper shook his head. “Naw. They’re Talbot’s strippers. They know what’s at stake,” he smirked.
“Why are we worried over a couple of strippers?” Painter barked, losing his patience. “What are we gonna do about Whistler and Shooter so we can get our fucking club back?” Leave it to Pai
nter to get right to the point. Truthfully, he was only saying what we all were thinking. When shit got bad enough for a lockdown, it put all of us on edge.
Snickers followed his comment. Some of the brothers were just as eager as Painter was to get back to normal, and normal for them meant the freedom of drinking, fighting, and having sex without the worry of innocent eyes watching them. Of course, the restaurant had always been off limits for that kind of activity anyway because of the constant presence of civilians.
Children were strictly prohibited from the back clubhouse, and the same went for the bar, but shit happened. Kids had a way of turning up in places they weren’t welcome. The old ladies knew what went on because, hell, at one time or another most of them had been part of it, but they still didn’t want to see it, and they especially made an effort to shield their children from it.
“Do we think they’re still in the area?”
I nodded reluctantly, remembering what Talbot had said. The fact that Shooter was looking for me spoke volumes, solidifying the belief that he thought I was a rat and was gunning for me. “He made it pretty fucking clear why they’re here,” I growled, taking the joint from Snake. One hit off a joint wouldn’t do much for me, but I took a deep drag and held it in my lungs. “Whoever is hiding them is either getting serious money for it, or doing it against their will. We hit all the usual hangouts after shit went down, but got nothing.”
Hawk’s gaze darted to Fox. “Check the hospitals, see if any doctors or nurses have turned up missing in the last day or two, someone who didn’t call in. If you get nowhere, check the clinics. You said Shooter was wounded, could be that they’ve dragged a civilian into it.” He swung his gaze back to me. “How bad do you think he was hit?”
“Bad enough to knock him out on his ass, but he’s tough.”
“A body shot, then?” Rock inquired.
I acknowledged him with a nod.
“I want eyes on Pleasure Me, I never liked that fucker Talbot. He claims his place is neutral ground, but he’s a lowlife who’d turn his own mother in for a dollar.” It was clear by his tone that our president disliked Talbot as much as his way of operating.
What He Wants (Book 3 after Phantom Riders MC-Hawk and No Mercy) Page 11
