Arms tight around her, he shifted, letting her feel his hard cock, willing to wait for her to catch up with him, because just seeing her, watching the beauty she created with the smallest part of herself, and then experiencing her joy, he would have stripped them both bare and been buried inside her in moments. She needed to be with him, though, and he would never frighten her, never cause her pain. My Ester, my love. Lips to her throat, he felt the pounding of her heart, blood coursing through her veins. My life.
First one, then her other arm came down, winding themselves around his shoulders. Holding tight. Fingers fluttering on the back of his neck, she lifted to her toes, pushing up even as she pulled him down. Wordless asking, always her way, and he gave her what he thought she wanted. Mouth moving across her skin, he traced the muscles and tendons of her neck and shoulders with his tongue and teeth, nipping and soothing each inch. Her quiet moan fed his knowledge of her arousal, and he ran one hand down her back, cupping a cheek of her ass, and pulling her against him, grinding into her. “Ester.” All his brain cells were short circuiting, electricity flashing through his muscles, and Bones was acutely aware of everywhere they touched, everywhere her skin was on his, heated and soft, so soft.
“I won’t break.” Breaths ghosting across his skin, Bones had no warning before her teeth sank into his shoulder, gripping hard, the pain pushing him farther down the road to uncontrolled. “I can’t hurt you. You can’t hurt me. I want what you want, Bones.” She bit him again, nails raking lightly down his back at the same time. “There’s more need tied up in your head than you’re taking from me. But you don’t have to take it,” she hesitated, then softly said, “baby.”
Bones knew his hand was gripping her ass hard, finger joints aching with the pressure used, knew he had already left bruises on her skin. That knowing made him even harder, because he wanted his marks on her, wanted to see them there tomorrow. Wanted to put himself on her skin as a warning to all men that she was his. That she was owned and loved. Mine. “Ester, you do not know what you ask.” Pressing deep, he rocked his cock against the core of her, felt her rubbing against him, making frustrated noises at the two layers of fabric between them. “I do not wish to hurt you.”
“You love me. I give this to you. Court lady always said you can’t turn down presents, even if you don’t want them.” She pushed up, mouth to his ear and whispered, “I know you want this one. I’m giving it to you, Bones. You can be like a scrooge sometimes, a miser barely peeking at the pocket of need. Wallow in the wealth.” Her teeth came to rest on the lobe of his ear, and she nipped, then held it and tugged. “Today, you’re rich.” Another nip. “Wallow with me?”
“Ester, love.” Bones paused, trying to decide how to talk about this. With her, each time it had been slow and sweet, making love in a way he’d never experienced before. It almost felt as if bringing in what he had done before her would taint what they had somehow, make it less precious. She could never be what the club whores were, never be what the neighborhood girls had been, either. “There have been many times in my life when I performed the act without caring. Without care, at times.” How to make her understand? “Before you, there was never part of my heart held in my hands. Before you, there was never love.”
He was afraid he had already hurt her with his words, as still as she’d gone in his arms, and needed to see her face. Resting his forearms on the wall beside her head, he leaned backwards slightly. Head back, she looked up into his face, trust on every feature, not hurt, not disappointment. Not fear, either.
“You know I know.” Her words startled him, and he jerked again when she laughed. “I followed you, Bones. I know.” Rolling to her toes, she pressed her lips against his and then settled back. “But the way the girls talked, I also knew you were kind even when you didn’t have to be. Even when you’d paid to be mean, you weren’t mean beyond what they wanted.” Her nose wrinkled, and her brows drew together into a frown. “I don’t want mean.” She couldn’t hide the shiver that ran down her spine, and didn’t try. Voice soft as the brush of a feather, she said, “I don’t like mean.”
“I could never be mean to you, my Ester.” He ducked his head, touching his mouth to her cheek. “I would never hurt you.”
She sighed, and when he lifted back up, he saw her frown was more pronounced, chin angled down so she didn’t meet his eyes. “Then you’ll need more than me.” Sadness radiated from her, and Bones found his hands fisting before he could stop them. “I wanted to be your everything.”
“You already are, beauty.” She shook her head at his words, and he searched for a way to explain. “Before my life included you, I did not have what I needed. I looked for it. Years, I searched. Never finding.” Ducking his head again, he put his mouth to her ear, whispering, “I fucked women I did not love. I fucked them in ways that allowed me to keep searching, looking for what made me whole inside. Testing limits, pushing the edges, always looking and not finding. I fucked women who never saw me. They saw the man who could give them things, get them things, make their lives better with all those things. They did not see me, and that was why they were not what I sought. I needed my Ester to see me, to fill up all the corners inside me with herself, to make me whole. Now that I have my Ester, I do not need to look to things which did not fill me up before in order to be filled. Just my Ester does that, nothing but you, no matter how it happens. You wake with a smile, and I am full of life. If you want to explore and see if there is sometimes an edge to what we like doing together, I am very willing to do so with you. Without being mean. Never mean, my Ester. Always with love, beauty. Always. We will always be what the other needs, and you’ve gifted yourself to me. Now I gift you with me, too.”
Mouth to her neck, he dragged his lips to her shoulder, nosing at the edge of her shirt until he could access more skin. Movements controlled, he put his hands on her shoulders, then down her arms, circling her wrists, bringing her hands up above her head. Gripping both in one palm, he stretched them further, pulling her to her toes, letting her back arch naturally. His other hand gripped firmly at her waist, then trailed hard fingers up her side, across her ribs, mouth smiling against her skin when she giggled at the touch, then gasped when he captured a nipple between finger and thumb and pinched, pulling and tugging as he nipped at the skin over her collarbone.
Ester arched more, pressing against him and moaned softly. “Bones.”
“Yes, Ester.” He traced her throat with light kisses, making his way back to her jaw, then her mouth, and he groaned as she opened for him, tongues tangling fiercely. Leaning into her, cock against her clit, he let her work against him, the friction of jeans and heat from her cunt a pleasurable pain that made him impossibly harder. “Take what you need, too, baby.” He deepened the kiss, pulling more from her, at times fighting her for control because she was frantic for more. Fingers tracing the cup of her bra, he tugged, slipping it down and beneath the swell of her breast, palming the soft mound before pinching her nipple again and pulling, drawing and stretching with a twist, then palming her breast again, the hard nub of her nipple grazing the flesh of his hand.
Her wrists twisted, hands pulling against his grip and he took her sweet moans into his mouth, biting her bottom lip and pulling, pressing harder against her. A moment later she took flight, and he felt it come over her, heard it in the long, drawn-out call of his name as she ripped her mouth from his, face turned to the side, her voice intense and quivering. “Bones!”
He gave her a moment, then another, feeling the settling of her soul back into her skin as she came down. He couldn’t keep the smug smile from his face when he heard her whispered, “Wow.”
“Yes. Definitely, wow.” He gave it back to her, releasing her wrists and bending slightly to scoop her into his arms. Padding softly to their bedroom, he let her feet settle to the floor and waited until she was steady before he knelt in front of her. Looking up, he caught an expression of surprise on her face and smiled. “I want to eat you, Ester. Eat you up, ta
ke my fill of you before I fill you up.” Lips parting, she pulled in a shaky breath before she nodded. “This means, my beauty, we need to get these”—fingers to the fastening of her jeans, he worked to release them, tugging gently as she shimmied in place to help—“off.” Dragging the fabric down her legs, he looked up again when she put one hand on his shoulder. “Step out, baby. I am hungry.”
***
Ester
I lay back on the bed, head on the pile of pillows Bones had placed there, and watched him. Concentrating on me in a way that made me feel like a princess, like the most precious thing in the history of ever, he had undressed me before putting me exactly where he wanted me to be. In his bed, a place which has always been the safest of the safe for me, from the beginning of the us that was, to the us that is, and I hope the us that will be.
Before Bones, I hadn’t had any pleasure to go with the girly parts I had between my legs. Now, all I had to do was look at him and heat gathered there. Steaming, like the best part of a hotel shower, I’d steam up like a mirror, and he’d take the time to wipe me clean before steaming me up again. Again and again, as if he’d never get tired, never be tired of me. This was more though, because he’d done this before, and I hadn’t known he wasn’t eating his fill. This time, he did, and took his time doing it, and I loved every minute.
When he rose over me, fitting himself into me, into the heat he’d pulled from inside me with his mouth and tongue and the very breath from his body, he looked down at me and gave me the words again. The ones that made me quivery inside.
“I love you, my Ester.”
“You’re making my nosey bits tingle,” I told him, my throat tight, and wasn’t ready for the response that got. Roaring laughter even as his back bowed, as his hips moved, and he glided home. That right there? Might be the best thing in the history of ever, so I’d revise any previous statements I made in my head. Him laughing as he came home.
Brothers
Bones
The tension in the room was thick and heavy, anger from the conversation in progress nearly at the point of boiling over. Bones caught Shade’s gaze and nodded, seeing the same frustration on the man’s features. Without a word, Shades reached out and slapped his palm to the desktop, the crack of the impact ricocheting around the small room. They were in the office behind the bar in the Chicago clubhouse, nearly a dozen men packed into a room meant for only a handful.
Mason was still in Florida, Fury in Fort Wayne, Opie in New Mexico, and one of the men Bones leaned on for advice the most had gone back to southern California, the third such extended trip Tugboat had made in two years.
Once quiet had fallen on the group, Bones slowly pushed his chair back from the table, picking up the gavel and holding it loosely in his hands. His stance combined with his confidence told every man in the room he had heard all the arguments and opinions he was willing to listen to. As with all the Rebel Wayfarers chapters, if nationals or the other chapter officers came to a clear consensus, the local president set aside any personal disagreements, and the business being voted upon would be done.
Tonight, however, nothing was clear. There were nearly as many opinions as there were men in the room, which did not bode well for acceptance of what he was about to rule upon. Chismoso and his men were up for vote, had been on the agenda for enough weeks it was necessary to push it through, one way or another. Mason had weighed in via video, as had Fury and Opie. Unfortunately, their opinions were just as varied. Mason in cautious favor, Fury opting for more observation and an invitation to hang around officially, and Opie firmly against the Rebels having anything to do with Chismoso, the man who had assisted in Bella’s abduction. This vote would come down to Bones.
“Chismoso has not given us reason to doubt him since he approached us here in Chicago.” Several of the men shifted in their chairs, and he paused, looking around the room.
“He has offered explanations of events, but no man here can entirely put aside the past. Not without more evidence of today’s reality. A paradox, because he will be unable to convince us without us providing the opportunity for that conviction. Limited exposure means lingering doubts, and we do not need division within our ranks. Never do we need that, but even less so when we are faced with pressures as we have been these past weeks. ‘Know your enemy, and know yourself,’ Sun-Tzu told us.” He paused again, looking around the room. “Corleone may have said it better, ‘Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.’ I propose we...” He paused to let the laughter at his quoting The Godfather die away, then continued, “I suggest we follow this sage advice, and pull Chismoso and his men in as prospects. They have all proven the life is not a deterrent, which is usually the reason for hang around status. Anything less than prospect tells everyone we do not trust them.”
He leaned forwards, tapping the table with the gavel’s handle. “In order to understand the motives, we need their trust. How better to do this than to send a message that they are earning trust.” He straightened, and folded his arms, letting the gavel dangle from the fingers of one hand. “This also sends a clear message to our enemies, no matter which path Chismoso takes. Either they believe we have opened the gates and let the Trojan horse inside, which gives them a false sense of accomplishment or underscores their loss of so many men to a better club.”
Scanning the faces in the room, and the ones on the screen, he said, “Diligence, with no hostility. Opie—” He waited until the man gave him a chin lift, indicating he was listening. “—we will not send any of these men to you.” Opie’s features twisted, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Bones cut him off. “I will not send them anywhere, not yet. But, I want you here, if you can see your way clear to come in the next couple of days. Come, bring Devil.” Bones’ lips curved, and he felt his features soften. “I would like to introduce you to my old lady.” As he knew it would, that announcement raised questions all around the table and from the speakers, because only a few men knew what Ester had become to him. “Life continues.”
***
“Shit, Bones.” The muttered curse came from beside him, and Bones looked down distractedly, watching as Red packed cautery powder into the wound on his leg. “Fuck. You rode here like this? You’re bleeding like a stuck pig, man.”
“It is a through-and-through. Just fucking tape it. Tape it up.” After issuing the brusque order, Bones turned his attention back to the map spread across the table in front of him. Myron stood on the other side, tablet in hand as he tapped notes. “Are there similarities in all the hits?” Myron shook his head, reached out and angled a printout towards him, then made another note. “Which was the third?”
For the past four hours, the Chicago chapters been dealing with a running war. Businesses in far-flung areas of town targeted with drive-by shootings, each wave seeming to be tightly coordinated, with an in-depth knowledge of how the Rebels would react. So far, no clubhouses or individual residences had been hit, but each man was holding their breath, knowing it would likely come sooner rather than later. Bones had been standing outside a business the club owned on the north end of town, and taken a bullet while returning fire.
The club would be on lockdown soon, and Bones knew he would have to fight for the ability to have Road Runner be with Ester in his house, instead of her having to go back to Wisconsin like the rest of the families. She had only met a handful of men, and Road Runner was the only one she would trust. For now, she was in their home, in the panic room on the second level, accessible only from the hidden stairway or from the basement.
“Third target?” Myron asked for clarification without looking up from the tablet, making another note. Bones grunted. “Tupelo’s on Cicero. They hit Ink Me at the same time. Silly’s shook up, but okay.” Myron’s head lifted and he stared at Bones for a moment. “Whatcha got?”
“Joliet.” Stinging pain in his thigh made him hiss between clenched teeth and he glanced down at Red, noting the suture needle in his hand. Looking back up, he gave Myron his e
ntire focus. “Get some men on the Diamante clubhouse there. See what they have. The first target was north, the second was midtown, only minutes apart. This says there are two teams. Third was the first team hitting a second time, on their way back to their clubhouse. There has not been a fourth strike, this means the second team has not completed their assignment, and that first team will be sitting in their house waiting for word.
Bones lifted a hand, waving off Myron’s headshake. “Trust me on this. In war, these men are as infants. We have been giving them too much credit. Credit for planning they are not responsible for. If this is Morgan, he will want to make a statement. Look at where they have targeted so far.” Jabbing his finger at the map, he indicated the pins pushed through the paper and into the wood of the desk. “All of them were acquired right after Mason birthed the Rebels. Strip club, the pawn shop, Tupelo’s, Ink Me. The only thing not on that map is Jackson’s, which is where team two is headed right now. Every other business is less than a decade old, and did not matter to Deacon. He did not see them as a blight on his legacy. He did not see them as Mason’s triumph, not like he would these four things. That will matter to Morgan. We need to call Jackson’s, let those men know they are next on the list, and we need to send our men to Joliet.”
Myron stared at him a moment, then tossed his tablet to the table, reaching out to grab the speakerphone and drag it towards him. Two seconds later Mason’s voice sounded, demanding, “Update me, goddammit.”
Myron stared at Bones for another moment, then gave a succinct summary of Bones’ theory. “Jackson’s is the next target. Boss, this is Diamante, pulling the shit from their Joliet clubhouse. I need permission to authorize a direct hit on that location.”
Mason clipped out one word, followed with, “Approved,” and then the phone disconnected.
Bones echoed him. “War.” He pulled in a breath. “We do this, and he is right. It is war.”
Bones (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 10) Page 28
