by Jamie Begley
“They aren’t drunk; they’re tipsy,” Willa countered.
“They’re drunk off their ass,” Douglas muttered, taking another bite.
“I’ll adjust the recipe.” She put her full attention on Douglas. “So, you wanted to talk about the costs?”
“What? Oh, yeah. I emailed you the cost of the new cabinets.”
Willa picked up her cell phone, pulling up her email, and then she started getting heart palpations at the figure she was staring at.
“I just wanted ordinary white cabinets.”
“You already have those. For the same price, you can get those. They’re on sale, and with my discount, it’s a good deal.”
“Are the white ones on sale? If they are, they would be cheaper. I could save—”
“They aren’t on sale,” Douglas cut her off.
Willa stared down at the figure, her mind running the total cost of the project.
“Get the cabinets. Kitchen upgrades always increase the value of the home.”
“I know, but…”
They went back and forth. She was finally satisfied when Douglas promised to check a competitor’s price. She also showed him a sale ad for the carpet she had picked out, telling him she would give him a check to go ahead and make the purchase.
“I told you it would be better to wait. They always run sales on the first of the month. I saved eighty-nine dollars,” Willa said proudly.
“I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” Douglas said, getting up and carrying his dirty cup to the sink. “I need to get going.”
“I’ll see you later this week. Lucky wanted to stop by yesterday, but we didn’t get time. We’re packing—”
“You’re moving?” Douglas asked sharply.
“Don’t worry; I’m not moving back into my house. We’re moving just outside of town. Lucky wants to build his own home.”
“What about the one you’re working on?”
“I’ll probably rent it out. I want to save it for my children.”
“I see.”
From his frown, she didn’t think he did, but she didn’t pry. Douglas was a nice man who liked his privacy and didn’t pry into other’s business, so she saw nothing wrong with extending the same courtesy.
He was almost out the front door when she caught up with him. “I boxed you up a couple of cupcakes.”
“Oh, thanks.” He nodded at Dustin who had followed Willa into the hallway. “It was nice meeting you.”
“You, too,” Dustin said, holding out his hand. “I wouldn’t eat any more of those if you’re driving,” he joked.
Willa thought she heard Douglas say, “No shit.”
After the door was closed, she turned to Dustin. “Did he say…?”
“He said they were a little too sweet.”
“Really? Then maybe I should cut back some on the sugar,” Willa mused aloud as they walked back into the kitchen.
“You do that, add a touch more bourbon, and you’ll have a winner.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. When you make them, text me. I’ll taste-test them for you again.”
Willa smiled, refilling his coffee cup. “You didn’t wear your suit I bought you today.”
Dustin lost his happy expression. “No, you said Lucky wasn’t going to be here today. I still don’t see what would have been wrong with jeans and a T-shirt.” He smoothed down his T-shirt with ‘I Dig’ and a picture of a plant. Willa thought it might be a picture of cannabis, but she couldn’t be sure.
“It’s not exactly professional,” she said delicately, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “Lucky is my husband. I want him to have confidence in you.”
“Did it work?”
“Oh, yes.” Willa nodded happily. “You were amazing. I knew you would be.”
Dustin flushed, staring up at her, and she went to put the coffee pot up then turned when she heard Dustin greet Lucky.
Once Lucky came to the counter, pulling her into his arms and kissing her breathless, she had to hold onto the counter as he released her.
“How are you doing tonight, Dustin?” Lucky asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“I’ve been better,” he said, picking up his briefcase.
“Did you eat too many cupcakes?” Willa asked in concern.
“No, I skipped dinner. Too many sweets on an empty stomach, I guess.” His expression was downcast.
“I should have asked. I’m so sorry. I could make you a sandwich if you want.” She placed her hand on his arm in sympathy.
He seemed about to accept then changed his mind, looking at Lucky over her shoulder. “That’s okay. It’s Greer’s turn to cook. I’m sure there are plenty of leftovers.”
“It wouldn’t take me long.”
“No, don’t bother. I’ll see you in a couple of days, Willa.”
She started to follow him out but Lucky walked by her, following him, so Willa began doing the dishes. She didn’t have many, because she liked to do them as she used them.
“Why don’t you use the dishwasher?” Lucky asked, coming back into the room.
“I didn’t have enough dishes to do a full load.”
He pulled her into his arms. “You could just stack them in the dishwasher until you have a full load.”
“I don’t like dirty dishes sitting around. My mother always told me a wife is supposed to keep a clean house.”
“Willa, I’ve told you that’s an old-fashioned concept. I can help with the chores. When we move into the clubhouse in two days, you’ll have to get used to the chores being split up among the members.”
Her eyes darkened in worry. “Does that mean I can’t cook you breakfast every morning?”
Lucky sighed. “Siren, what is it with you cooking breakfast every morning? I do know how to make myself a bowl of cereal.”
“I want you to be healthy, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
Lucky slid his hands to her butt. “I know one that’s more important.” He lifted her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. Then he turned, setting her on the metal counter.
“What?”
“Snack time.”
Willa laughed. “Snack time isn’t a meal.”
“Oh, yes, it is.” His mouth kissed the base of her throat as he unbuttoned her faded pink blouse, pulling it off.
She was wearing a new lace bra that she had found on sale, and the cups barely covered her nipples.
“I could come just from staring at your tits.” He pulled her breasts out of the bra before laying her back on the counter next to the cupcakes. He tugged off her jeans and tennis shoes.
“Someone could come in,” Willa whispered.
“I locked the door when Dustin left.”
She heard him opening a drawer next to her where the utensils were kept, and her heart stopped beating when she saw a butter knife in his hands.
“Lucky…?”
“I haven’t had a chance to try your new flavor. Did Dustin like them?”
Willa didn’t like the look in his eyes. It was making her nervous. She would have jumped down off the counter if Lucky hadn’t pressed a hand down on her stomach, holding her still. He used the butter knife to scoop a small amount of frosting then smeared it across one nipple. She wiggled unsuccessfully while he repeated the same to the other then tossed the knife into the sink.
The cold metal at her back made her shiver as her hands curled over the edge of the counter. Lucky unzipped his jeans, pulling out his hard cock. Then he gave a satisfied smile as he swiped his thumb over her clit, and she knew her arrogant husband was gloating to himself that she was already damp.
She was anticipating him to build her desire higher. As a result, the shock of his sudden entry had her arching as she adjusted to him taking her. His hard body pressed her back as he took her nipple into his mouth, licking the frosting off.
His cock felt as hard as the steel she wa
s trembling on, and the sensations were almost more than she could bear.
Her small scream was cut off when he caught her mouth with his. She tasted the chocolate icing on his tongue.
“Wow, I did use too much bourbon. It tastes like…” Willa lost her train of thought when he surged inside her again.
“Fire,” Lucky said, licking the frosting off her other nipple.
“Fire,” she murmured in agreement.
“Siren?”
“Hmm?” She lifted her glazed eyes to his.
“Do you know that Dustin’s in love with you?”
Astonished, she shook her head.
Lucky nodded his head back at her. “I don’t want you alone with him anymore.”
His firm tone had her hackles rising. “He’s not in love with me. We’re friends. You’re being ridiculous. He would never—”
“It will be easier on him to get over you if he’s not alone with you. It’s hard to be around you and not fantasize about these tits.”
“You’re crude and wrong,” Willa snapped. If she wasn’t so darn close to coming, she would get down and show her husband that he couldn’t tell her … Another small scream pasted her lips shut when he bit down on the nipple in his mouth.
“Do you want to make me jealous?”
She gaped at him in dismay. The thought that Lucky could possibly be jealous of Dustin had to be a joke.
“Willa?” Lucky’s cock slid to a stop inside of her.
“I’m thinking,” she snapped. “Truthfully, the thought that you could be jealous of another man over me…” Willa began giggling. “It’s kind of cool.”
“Willa, did you like it the last time I spanked that ass?”
“No … You know I don’t deal well with pain.”
“Then I suggest I don’t find you alone with Dustin again.”
“Okay … There’s no reason to become angry.”
“Willa, shut up and fuck me.”
“Are you going to stay mad at me?”
“I’m not mad,” he ground out, clenching his teeth.
“You look mad,” she said dubiously.
“I’m not. It’s just kind of hard to carry on a conversation when I’m trying not to come.”
“Oh.” Her hands slid to his shoulder as she thrust her hips up at him. “Is that better?” she cooed playfully before going pale when she heard him open the utensil drawer again. Her pussy clenched on Lucky’s cock while she tried to remember if the knives were within his reach.
“What are you do-doing?”
“My damn belt is caught in the drawer,” Lucky told her, finally jerking his belt free.
Willa gave a sigh of relief. Darn it, Killyama had made her paranoid with her snarky comment on Saw.
Willa froze on the counter. “How did Killyama know you used knives when you had sex with women?”
Lucky stiffened on top of her.
“Get off.” Willa pounded her fists on his chest.
Lucky grabbed her hands, pulling them over her head. “Listen to me!”
“You had sex with Killyama!”
“God, no!”
She stopped struggling at his horrified reaction.
“Then how did she know?”
“Do we have to talk about this now?”
“Yes.”
“A while back, Fat Louise got herself into some trouble in Mexico. Killyama asked for The Last Riders’ help to get her out, and we agreed.”
“I love Fat Louise. I’m so glad you offered to help.”
“It was my idea.”
“That’s so sweet.” Willa wrapped her arms back around him.
“I thought so,” he agreed arrogantly. “Anyway, it was decided we were going to leave early in the morning, and to save time, Killyama spent the night at the clubhouse while we went over the plans. My part was mainly getting the approval of both governments and doing recon.
“After our meeting, Rider was supposed to keep an eye on her.” His expression became pained as he confessed what happened next. “She was supposed to sleep in the main clubroom on the couch, but apparently, if the noises are loud enough, they can be heard downstairs in the clubroom. Killyama heard some”—Lucky cleared his throat—“and came upstairs to investigate with her fucking pistol in her hand. I still say she did it deliberately just to see what was going on and make sure it wasn’t Train.”
“I don’t have to guess what she saw, do I?”
“No,” Lucky admitted. “She went psycho on me. That bitch didn’t need our help to get Fat Louise out; she could have done it herself. She damn near broke my hand before Jewell could scream at her that we were doing a scene.”
Willa maliciously enjoyed seeing Lucky’s face turn a bright red as he struggled to find the right words to give her an explanation.
“A scene or play is where you can enjoy fantasies in a safe environment with limits.”
“Limits?”
“Yes. Like, I use knives, but don’t cut. It’s about erotic play.”
“Oh.” Willa still couldn’t imagine becoming aroused with someone holding a knife to her, but she could understand how each person had their own fantasies. Lucky had figured prominently in most of hers. With that thought, her own face blushed a betraying red.
Lucky stared down at her, his interest caught. “Want to tell me what your fantasy is?”
Willa laughed, shaking her head. “Maybe after we’ve been married a few years. Finish telling me what happened with Killyama.”
“There’s nothing else to tell. I was mad as hell at being interrupted at gunpoint, and my hand hurt like fuck. I told her to get out or sit on the couch and watch. It wasn’t one of my better moments.” He winced when she hit him on his shoulder. “Don’t worry; Killyama paid me back. She told me to shove my knife up my ass, and if she heard another scream coming from my room, she would shoot and ask questions later.”
Willa tried not to grin. “She was a little harsh,” she lied, crossing her fingers at the same time she wrapped her legs around his waist then ran her hands down his back soothingly. The woman had probably hurt Lucky’s feelings when she had threatened him.
“I didn’t blame her. I shouldn’t have been a smartass. But it was a big knife.”
She kissed his jawline. “She still didn’t need to be so … graphic.” She began wiggling her hips again to make him move.
“I don’t think I’m in the mood anymore,” Lucky said grumpily.
“Let me see if I can help you find it again.”
Chapter 28
Lucky parked his SUV in The Last Riders’ parking lot. “We’re here.”
Willa held her cookie jar tighter against her chest, pasting a smile on her face.
Lucky turned to her, taking her hand in his. “We don’t have to do this, siren. We can live in your house.” It was the thousandth time he had made sure that she was willing to move. Even after he had told the deacons that he was leaving and had found a new pastor for the church, he had wanted to make sure she wasn’t having second thoughts.
“I want to give it a try. Besides, it’s only until your house is built. As soon as Douglas is finished with my house, he can start on our new house.”
“Douglas isn’t going to be doing our house.”
“Why not? He’s an excellent contractor.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you. When I texted him to set up a meeting to discuss him taking the job, he told me he already has another job lined up. I thought you would prefer to find someone who could start right away.”
“I would,” Willa admitted.
The sound of someone banging on her window had her jumping. She rolled her glass down.
“You two going to sit here all day, or are you going to get out?” Rider gave her a welcoming smile as he opened the door for her.
Willa climbed out, seeing most of the clubhouse had come out to greet them.
After Lucky went to the back of the
SUV, raising the hatch, everyone reached in to help pack the last of their belongings up to the clubhouse. The men had moved everything else the day before.
Razer and Viper took the larger boxes, and Knox took Lucky’s two large suitcases. Willa went to pick up her make-up bag, but Jewell took it from her hand.
“Let me help.” She shook the travel case gently. “That perfume you always wear in here?”
“Yes,” Willa answered, not liking the gleam in the other woman’s eyes.
“Cool.” She left before Willa could ask why she wanted to know.
“There any cookies in that jar?” Rider asked.
“Yes. I made them this morning.”
“I’ll pack it up the steps for you.”
“Be careful. That’s my grandmother’s jar.”
“I’ll be careful,” he promised, passing Lucky and Train who were struggling to get a shelving unit out.
“Aren’t you going to help?” Lucky asked.
“I am,” Rider responded, lifting the lid of the cookie jar to take out a cookie then taking a large bite. “Oatmeal raisin, my favorite.” He went up the steps, shoving the rest of the cookie in his mouth.
“I’m going to kick his ass,” Lucky threatened.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got all this,” Train grunted.
“He’s going to eat all the cookies before I can get up there,” Lucky complained.
Willa watched as the men unloaded the rest of their belongings, not knowing what to do. Lucky and Train were walking up the pathway to the side of the clubhouse where they would go down the side door into the basement. Lucky had told her they would be taking the large bedroom in the basement until their house could be built.
She decided not to tag along with the men. Going up the steps, she braced herself before opening the door. They didn’t have sex out in the open during the day, did they? Willa wished she had asked Lucky that question before she came in by herself, but thankfully, the front room was empty.
“Thank you, Lord. If you could give me a couple of days before…” Willa trailed off, unsure whether it was appropriate to ask God not to let her see any of the members have sex until she grew used to living in the house. Then she worried that God could hear her thoughts. She decided to add that question to her list—if He could hear their thoughts.
