by Debra Kayn
Not having any idea where the food came from, she also knew she couldn't be choosey. It wasn't like she could run out and find a restaurant open that late at night.
"Thank you." She took a bite of casserole, finding tater tots, cheese, and hamburger in the mouthful.
He leaned closer. "The old ladies take turns bringing food around, so the men who don't go home can have a good meal."
She swallowed. "Are they going to be mad that I'm eating the food?"
"No." His gaze softened.
A ball of nerves settled under her ribs when he looked at her that way. He went out of his way to make her comfortable. Even though his gruff tone never changed with her. He'd done the same thing at the cabin. But there, she'd always ended up in his arms, sleeping like she hadn't any worries.
She needed to ignore him.
All the trouble had started because Big had seen Whip talking to her. Her ex-boyfriend would blow a gasket if he knew she was staying inside the Tarkio clubhouse.
Opening the dressing, she smacked the bottom of the bottle, putting a small amount on the lettuce.
Distracted by Whip, she wasn't tasting any of the food going in her mouth.
Loud laughter broke through the stream of music. She glanced across the room, finding Angie in the lively group beside the couch. As much as she hated to admit it, her sister fit in with the bikers.
She was a follower. Someone who would bend over backward to please Ringtail and be the kind of woman all the bikers would appreciate.
That ability to change would be a positive trait if Angie wasn't lying, manipulative, and mean.
A young child ran up to the table, plowing into Whip's knee. "Uncle!"
Caught off guard, Twyla sat back and dropped her fork onto her plate. She hadn't noticed any children at the clubhouse.
"Rocky, my boy." Whip picked up the child—apparently a boy, despite the long hair. "Where's your mother?"
Twyla's heart pounded. Did Whip have a son? A wife?
Feeling sick to her stomach, she could only stare. The kid had the same range of hair color as Whip, only baby soft and thinner.
Whip smacked the boy's cheek with his lips and rubbed his whiskers on the kid's face, eliciting giggles. The boy grabbed Whip's beard, shaking his head.
A woman, carrying a little girl, stopped at the table, handing Whip the younger child. Twyla lost her appetite.
Whip grabbed both of the kids, keeping them seated on his lap as if he carried around young children every day.
"Watch them for five minutes? Please?" The woman kissed Whip's forehead when he nodded.
She stared at the back of the woman as she threw herself at another man, laughing when he scooped her up and carried her out of sight. Snapping her gaze to Whip, she found him watching her intently.
Guilty of staring, she picked up her fork and moved the prongs through the remaining bites of salad she no longer wanted to eat. Never in her life had she messed around with a married man or even one that was only dating another woman.
That was gross.
Bikers were notorious for screwing around, whether they were married or not. All the time she spent with Whip, she never thought of him having a wife or girlfriend or ex.
She curled her lip and looked away from him. Her opinion of him hit rock bottom. He was no different than Big, wanting the latest thing that tickled his wiener.
"Momma?"
"Your momma will be right back," said Whip.
"She's going to cry," shouted the little boy over the music.
"Don't tease your sister."
"Momma?"
"Already told you, sweetpea. She wants to talk to your daddy. Give her that, huh?" said Whip.
Twyla glanced at Whip again. The mother had two kids by two different men? Whip was okay with that?
"Hey, say hi to Twyla." He scooted the boy around. "This is Rocky. This sweetpea is Elizabeth, but we all call her Bethy."
She forced a smile as the kids looked at her curiously. "Hi."
"That was my sister who ran off." Whip's mouth softened in amusement. "You've met Rick. He's married to Tracy."
The relief that hit her came out in a huge exhale. He was the children's uncle.
At least she could wipe having oral sex with a taken man off her long record of unforgivable acts she'd committed.
"Momma?" The little girl held her hands out to Twyla.
She raised her brows. Hadn't Whip explained that her momma was in the other room?
"She wants you to hold her," said Whip.
"No, she asked for her mom." She set the fork down.
"Every woman is momma to Bethy." Whip tightened his hold on the girl as she tried to escape his lap. "She wants you."
"I don't know anything about kids." She looked around for another woman to rush to her rescue, and the only one she could find was Angie. No way was she going to put the child into Angie's hands.
Swallowing hard, she said, "What if I drop her?"
"She bounces." Whip leaned forward and, with a skill that impressed her, securely passed the child in her direction.
She put out her hands, and the little girl grabbed onto her, using Whip's knee to propel herself forward. Twyla held on to the squirming bundle and found herself staring into big, innocent brown eyes.
Bethy patted her cheeks. "Momma."
Okay, then.
She turned the child away from her and held her on her lap. Having never been around kids, she had no idea what to say or do. Apparently, holding her was all that was required because Bethy used the new position to pull her brother's hair.
"Bethy...don't." Rocky slapped out, knocking his sister's hand away.
"Be nice." Whip moved Rocky to his other thigh, out of arms reach of his sibling, and looked at Twyla. "She tries to surprise Rick when he can't make it home for dinner."
"Who?"
"Tracy." Whip grinned. "She calls it a date night. That's why I don't mind watching the kids for her, so she can grab a few minutes here and there."
She'd never seen him relaxed the way he was right now, holding his nephew.
"You're close to your family." It was an observation. A mystery to her.
She'd never figured out how family members could remain close throughout their life. Since as far back as she could remember, she and Angie had fought over everything. Until she stopped caring and simply let Angie have everything she wanted.
Whip's gaze flickered, and he ducked his chin. "I'd do anything for my sister."
Looking at the children. Seeing Whip's hand possessively hold the back of Rocky's head, his gaze locked on his niece on Twyla's lap. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. At that moment, more than anything she'd ever needed, she wanted to know what it would feel like if Whip included her in his tight circle.
Clearing her throat, she stood, putting Bethy on her uncle's lap. "I'm sorry. I need to go to bed."
She hurried away from the table, afraid tears would fall, and someone else would see them. Counting the doors in the hallway, she found the room she would be staying in and shut herself inside.
Her heart raced. Out of her element and thrown into a situation someone else controlled, she quickly pushed the small button on the knob, locking herself inside.
Chapter 15
Twyla
Click
Twyla sat up in bed, blinking the sleep from her eyes, and picked up the pistol underneath her pillow. Between dozing, she'd waited for any noise to warn her that one of the bikers would try and get into her room.
She put her other hand on the wall, ready to knock loudly and wake up Whip and let him know one of his drunk buddies was trying to get in her room.
The door swung open. The light from the hallway showed a man silhouetted at the entrance to her room.
"Don't come any closer, or I'll shoot," she whispered into the quietness, curling her hand into a fist.
"Put the gun away, sis. It's me." The door closed, casting the room into darkness again.
Having recognized the voice, she set the weapon down on the bed beside her. The short burst of fear was replaced with arousal at hearing the gruffness in his voice.
"What are you doing? It's the middle of the night," she whispered.
"Can't sleep, knowing you're over here on the other side of the wall." The mattress shifted under her. "Move over."
She scooted, pulling the covers with her. "That sounds like a personal problem."
He tugged her down on the mattress until he spooned her against his front. She sighed at the weight of his arm over her waist and the warmth against her back.
She hated that her body craved him. He was the last thing she needed in her life.
All he'd done since meeting him was complicate her upturned life.
She yawned, and Whip chuckled silently, jiggling her body as his amusement spread.
"What?" she whispered.
He moved his arm. The warmth of his palm covered her breast.
Her nipple hardened in a titillating gift of pleasure. She reacted, turning her body until she faced him.
"Why are you laughing at me?" She planted her hands on his bare chest and closed her eyes in the darkness for a moment at the swell of arousal being beside him brought her.
"Your yawn is my signal to act quick." He smoothed her hair away from her face. "Before you fall asleep on me."
"Act?" She yawned again. "What are you talk—?"
He captured her mouth. Pleasure enveloped her. She met his tongue, moaning in satisfaction.
Whip cupped her ass, pulling her flush with the front of him. His hard cock evident against her lower stomach. She cupped his head, holding him close, stroking his tongue.
How could someone who brought such uproar into her life make her melt in his arms?
He rolled on top of her and lifted his head. "How about you get out of those panties you're wearing?"
His upper body stretched away from her. Wanting him back, but knowing he reached toward the pile of condoms she'd spotted on the nightstand earlier, she dropped her hands to the mattress.
"Do you screw all the women who stay here?" she whispered.
He came back to her, planting his elbows by her shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you."
"That doesn't answer my question." She bristled underneath him. "Don't use me."
He stilled above her. "I would've had you at the rental house, but I didn't have a condom. I spent almost a week with you in the cabin, wanting you every damn second we were together. Your sweet ass snuggled up against me every night about done me in."
"But, you didn't—"
"I didn't have a condom."
She gulped. "Now you have a condom."
"Yeah, sis, I have a condom." He kissed her impossibly light on the lips and said, "I have a whole pile of condoms, and I plan on using at least half of them."
Her heart hammered. "Only half?"
He sucked in and lowered his hand to her hip, hooking his thumb into the elastic of her panties. "Are you challenging me?"
She hooked her ankles around the back of his calves, amazed that he'd walked to her room with not a stitch of clothing. Knowing he was covered in tattoos that appealed to her, she wished there was a light on in the room.
Raising her head, she kissed him. He growled against her lips.
Whip had her out of her panties before she could take another breath. He tugged on her nightshirt. She squirmed until the material came off over her head. Being naked with him was like a breath of fresh air. There was hope next to him.
There was security.
There was pleasure.
He trailed his hand up her inner thigh and cupped her sex. Her eyes threatened to roll, and she closed her eyelids, pressing against his touch.
Using his finger, he circled her clit. The evidence of her arousal coated his hand. She couldn't hide how much she wanted him.
He lowered his head, taking her nipple in his mouth. She twined her fingers through his thick hair and sank into the mattress in delight.
Who was this man?
She couldn't wrap her head around her feelings toward him. Yet, she trusted those feelings. She trusted him.
God, she was losing her mind and her control.
His beard tickled her skin. A constant reminder of who she was with.
Her breath came faster. Whip overwhelmed her.
She rode his fingers. The need to have more of him moved her.
He pushed his finger inside of her and groaned. Her pussy tightened, ensuring him that's what she wanted.
Her inner thighs quivered around his wrist, imprisoning him. He was going to make her orgasm with his fingers.
He lifted his head, then straightened, kneeling on the bed between her legs. The crinkle of a wrapper came through his heavy breathing. She stretched, trying to settle down. One touch away from falling apart, she wanted to enjoy the pleasure he gave her.
It could be her last time with him.
Tomorrow, before work, she needed to find a place to live.
Whip lowered his body. His cock pressed against her inner thigh. She held her breath, knowing his size would stretch her completely. He was a beautiful man. Hard as steel and broad like the rest of him.
Yet, he held back from entering her. "Hold on to me."
She let go of the sheet underneath her and slid her hands along his sides, spreading her knees apart more.
He pressed against her pussy, going slow—excruciating slow. Excruciatingly wonderful.
She sucked in air that wasn't there, digging her fingers against his ribs.
She'd expected him to take her hard and fast. The way he was giving her every inch brought out the depth of how much she was attracted to him. All those qualities that appealed to her were given to her with patience and understanding.
As if he gave her the comfort he'd given his nephew and niece. The love he'd shown to his sister—the dependability and patience he'd given to his club.
It was too much at once to have a small part of that given to her.
She couldn't keep herself from wanting more. To set her sights on something unattainable for her.
Whip sank completely inside of her and held still. "Do you feel that?"
Of course, she felt him. His large cock stretched and weighed heavily inside of her, pinning her to the bed. His hips pressed fully against her inner thighs. There was not a single air space between them.
"Fuck, sis." A shudder went through him.
She absorbed the tremor. Caressing his sides, she gazed up into the darkness, needing to see him.
"What are you doing to me?" he mumbled before capturing her mouth with his.
He slid his tongue against hers. At the same time, he stroked her with his cock—slow and deep. She brought her legs up and hooked her calves over his ass. His muscles bulged against her, and she slid her arms around his neck, pulling herself off the mattress, pressing her breasts against his chest.
All the while, his hips created a wave within her. She moaned into his mouth. The man could move.
The slickness of her body eased his way. She kissed him back, taking his tongue, loving it, sucking it.
He rolled with her until she was on top and her knees were planted firmly on the mattress. Not wanting to sit up and leave him, she took the kiss deeper, sucking his tongue while lavishing attention to it.
Whip pushed up into a sitting position and swung his legs off the bed. He manipulated her body, molding her to him until they were both sitting, entwined with each other. Able to wrap her arms around his neck, she used the new position to ride his cock, plunging completely down before stroking him again with her pussy.
Her stomach muscles tightened. Her need quickened.
She fisted his hair, rubbing her breasts against him. Throwing back her head, she gasped for much-needed air.
Whip's hands tightened on her hips, guiding her, helping her. Her core coiled. He effortlessly picked her up and pushed her down with little effort from her, but to feel.
And it felt wonderful and freeing.
There was nothing holding her back. She ran her hands through his hair, holding him close, consuming all he gave her.
A moan erupted from her, and he quickly swallowed the sound, keeping it between them. Frantic for release, she became swept up in pleasure. Her thoughts weren't her own. Her movements weren't her own. Her life wasn't her own.
It was all Whip.
Once she gave up holding back, preparing for disappointment and faced her fears, she exploded. Her spine bowed. Her fingers knotted his hair. Her body convulsed.
Whip held her down, taking it all with a groan of his own. She quivered as every muscle in her body relaxed. Her head fell forward, and she pressed her cheek against the side of his head, not wanting to separate from him.
What they'd done...was wonderful. It was more than anything she'd experienced. It wasn't sex. It was closeness, and sharing, and giving, and taking, and bonding, and...
"SIS?" WHISPERED WHIP.
Twyla remained limp against his body. Her head pressed against his shoulder.
He rubbed her back, trying to rouse her. His cock had slipped out of her several minutes ago, and the condom threatened to fall free of his body.
His body shook in amusement at her ability to fall asleep after having sex only made him want her again. He shifted, picking her up, and put her down on the bed.
She whimpered. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, inhaling deeply. Possessiveness took hold of him.
A spitfire that fought his every step. A survivor who held her independence tightly, not letting anyone in. A beautiful woman who bounced between seeing her worth and not believing others could see her importance.
He closed his eyes, gripped by how strongly he felt for her.
Then, he covered her naked body, grabbed the used condom hanging on for dear life, and left the room.
Chapter 16
Whip
The decision to move Twyla into the clubhouse and draw Cusclan in proved tedious after three days. Whip sat outside Mama Jean's Pie Shoppe on his Harley, expecting to hear the approach of Cusclan members at any minute.
All he could do was keep watching her while she worked, escort her to and from her job, and make sure she was seen going into the clubhouse and not coming out until the next day. Hopefully, that would bring Cusclan around sooner rather than later.
