White Knuckles

by Autumn Jones Lake

  She gives me a sleepy, blissful smile. I can’t wait for any other response. I grip her ass, holding her still so I can thrust up into her again and again. She rests her hands on my shoulders for balance and digs her fingers in. “That’s right. Hold on.”

  The familiar tingle at the base of my spine makes me frantic. She seems to sense I’m close and tightens around me.

  “Fuck.” My body jolts and I groan through my release. Trinity tucks her face against my neck, kissing and licking my skin while I fill her up. The blast of pleasure seems to go on forever.

  I’m semi-conscious and Trin’s totally out of it when I finish.

  The chair creaks under us.

  Time to move. If I can remember how.

  Holding her tight, I lift us both off the chair.

  She picks her head up and kisses my cheek. “Ready for more?” she asks.

  “Not until you feed me.”

  My body’s still humming as I watch Wyatt make breakfast. I was going to do it, but he wrapped me up in a blanket and sat me down at the table, saying he wanted to take care of me. Since my knees were still wobbly, I agreed. Well, that and he’s shirtless. There’s something about my half-naked man making breakfast I can’t say no to.

  He finally sets a plate of veggie scrambled eggs in front of me before taking the other chair. Reaching across the table, he places his hand over mine. “I wanted you in my lap, but we’ve probably abused the chairs enough.”

  I snort and squeeze his hand. “We’ve fucked in the kitchen more than the bedroom.”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “Nope.”

  The corner of his mouth lifts. “Good. I’d be offended if you were.”

  I stab my fork into the eggs. “It’s not my frittata, but it’s good,” I mumble around a mouthful. “You take such good care of me.”

  His thumb strokes the back of my hand for a few seconds. I glance up into his intense ocean-blue eyes. “This is what I was made for.” His rough voice sends warm shivers down my spine.

  “What?” I whisper.

  The simmering look he gives me sends heat racing over my skin.

  “Taking care of you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Seven days before the wedding…

  Even though I had no plans to leave the cabin, I want Trinity to be able to walk when we go home. If we stay inside I’ll end up fucking her raw, so the next morning I suggest a drive through the mountains.

  She gives me a suspicious look as if she guessed the reason behind my change in plans. “I figured you would have packed plenty of lube.”

  I bark out a laugh and yank her closer. “Since this cabin is out, let’s go see what else is around, smartass.”

  “I didn’t realize I was marrying a real estate mogul.”

  I help her into my truck and give her a quick kiss. “Wanna make sure my girl’s taken care of.”

  When I slide into the driver’s side, she glances over. “You do take good care of me, Wyatt.” She waves her hand at the house. “I don’t need stuff. You know that, right?”

  I grab her hand and set it on my leg. “Yeah, I know.”

  We don’t have a particular place in mind, but I like that. It’s a nice change. Getting lost on some mountain backroads with my girl. Only thing better would be if we’d brought the bike.

  “Missing your Harley?” Trinity asks, glancing over.

  “How’d you know?”

  Before she has a chance to answer, her phone buzzes and she pulls it out.

  “I thought we said no cell phones?”

  “For you. I’m not as in-demand.” She glances at the screen and snickers.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “It’s a text from Heidi. She says: “Wished you’d warned me about Uncle Wrath’s photos. I could’ve done without.”

  “Great. She’ll probably run her mouth to Murphy about it.” I shake my head, but I really couldn’t care less.

  “I’m sorry. I forgot those were on one of the cards I gave her.”

  “It’s fine. I’m not worried about it.”

  “I’m surprised she’s gotten so far already.”

  “You plannin’ to hire her as an assistant on a regular basis?”

  “Maybe.” She leans over and squeezes my leg. “Now that I’m going to have an official studio.”

  My mouth turns up. Real fuckin’ happy I can do that for Trinity. I can’t wait for the sale to go through. I’m planning to get her set up in her studio first. It makes sense because it’s a smaller space, not that anyone has big enough balls to question me about my plans.

  “Oh, look, there’s an open house down there.”

  I miss the sign she pointed out and have to turn around. “You want to have a look?”

  “Sure. It says it has deeded waterfront.”

  “Nice. Think you’d like that better?”

  “Yes. But it’s probably crazy-expensive.”

  Houses up here seem to range from so-low-you-wonder-what’s-wrong to I-could-buy-an-entire-island for that price. There’s something like three thousand lakes and ponds up here, though. Maybe we can find something.

  Something turns out to be fancier and way more than I had in mind. “Maybe we’ll wait on this one for a few years,” I whisper to Trinity after letting the real estate agent give us a quick tour.

  At the truck, she leans against the door and puts her hands around my neck, drawing me down for a kiss. “I really like planning our future together,” she says when we part.

  “Me too.”

  If you’d told me ten years ago I’d be looking for lakeside lodges with Wyatt, I would have laughed in your face. This laid back, casual Wyatt seems to completely contradict the biker-fighter-enforcer image he presents to everyone else. That I’m the only one he allows to see this side of him only strengthens the bond we have.

  “You’re my future, Trin,” he says after shutting his door. “I can’t think of tomorrow, or next year, or ten years from now without you next to me.” My throat’s tight with emotion, so I don’t answer right away. Once we’re on the road, he takes my hand. “I never thought about getting old, or even wanted to think about it. Now I do, because I want to do it with you.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  “Good.”

  We stop at a few smaller lakes, and I snap some gorgeous photos. As darkness falls, we pass a small bar and restaurant and my stomach rumbles.

  “Want to stop here?” Wyatt asks.

  “Looks like a busy place.”

  “Come on. You must be getting tired of cooking for me all the time,” he says, slipping into a parking spot.

  When he opens my door, I lean in and in a low voice explain, “All the kitchen sex makes it worth it.”

  He chuckles and takes my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll still fuck you when we get home.” He casts a glance around the darkened parking lot. “Maybe before we get home.”

  “You’ll have to catch me first.” Laughing, I pull out of his hold and race to the front door. He catches up to me, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me to his side.

  “Can’t escape me that easy, angel.”

  The place is packed, but it’s a short wait before we’re shown to a small, sticky table in the corner.

  After glancing at the menu, Wyatt snorts. “Forty-five dollars for a venison strip loin. We need to make Teller take a few more deer off the property this fall.”

  “Are you going to hunt with him?”

  “We’ll see. I hate sitting still for that long.”

  I chuckle, because that’s exactly the answer I expected from him.

  The food actually turns out to be really good, and I jot down a few notes on my napkin so I can recreate one of the dishes at home. Wyatt watches me with a puzzled expression. “I want to try and make it when we get home,” I explain.

  Before he says anything, the waitress hands him our check. He passes her his credit card without glancing at the bill.

  Reaching acr
oss the table, he takes one of my hands. “How are you feeling?”

  Confused, by the change in the tone of his voice, I glance up. “Fine. Why?”

  “Just checking.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Everything is dark and still when we return to the cabin. “This feels weird. Even though the clubhouse is out in the middle of the woods, there are always people around.”

  At first I wasn’t sure Wyatt heard me. Then the outside security lights burst to life, bathing the area around the house with bright, white light and he seems to relax. “You’re not getting tired of me, are you?” he asks.

  “No. Not at all. This is nice. Just the two of us. I understand how important the club is, but once in a while—”

  He flips up the middle console and reaches over, urging me closer. “Come here.”

  “Don’t you want to go inside?”

  “In a minute. Come here,” he says again.

  Curious, I slide over a few inches. “Keep coming.” He slips his hand under my butt, urging me up. “Come sit in my lap.”

  We turn and twist and slide around the front seat until he has me where he wants me—straddling his lap. He leans back, staring in my eyes. “Is this what you wanted?” I whisper.

  One of his hands cups the back of my head, pulling me closer. “Make out with me,” he says against my lips.

  I can’t help it—I chuckle once before his kisses swallow my laughter. I wrap my arms around his neck pressing myself tight against him while he takes the kiss deeper. He tastes like coffee and peppermint—two things that shouldn’t go together but are perfect because it’s Wyatt.

  “Mmmm,” I moan, and his lips curve up, breaking our kiss.

  “Are you trying to relive your high school years?” I whisper, my voice shaky from desire.

  He cocks his head as if my question made no sense.

  “You know, making out in the front seat of your car.”

  He chuckles. “No. Never did that.”

  My mouth twists in a skeptical smile.

  “I’m serious. I didn’t have a car.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m honored to be your first.”

  His eyes soften and all teasing leaves his face. He lifts a hand, brushing the hair from my face. I can see the question he wants to ask.

  I duck my head. “I never did that, either.”

  His hands drop to my waist, gently squeezing. “Guess we’re each other’s firsts.”

  It’s a little absurd and a whole lot sweet.

  “I don’t think I said it before, but you look really pretty tonight.” His finger traces the edge of my sweater. “I like this color blue on you.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper. The simple compliment warms my skin.

  We return to trading gentle kisses. Gentle turns a little more frantic. Wyatt’s hand grazes the bottom of my sweater, slipping under to tickle my skin. As I arch my back, he slides both hands under my sweater, cupping my breasts—

  A sharp blare startles us apart, and we both laugh when we realize I accidently leaned against the steering wheel, hitting the horn.

  “Maybe it’s time to take this inside,” he says in a low voice that suggests exactly what he wants to do inside.

  “Sounds good,” I whisper.

  He helps me off his lap. “Wait in the truck for a minute.”

  I nod and collect my purse but keep an eye on him as he carefully checks the area around the front porch. When he seems satisfied nothing’s amiss, he returns to the truck, opening my door and helping me down.

  He points to a section of grass in the front yard. “Looks like a coyote traveled through here. I don’t want you outside by yourself.”

  “No problem.”

  When we step inside, he still seems preoccupied. “Want to join me in the shower?”

  One corner of his mouth tips up. “Yes. Let me go grab some more firewood. You get the shower started.”

  “Deal.”

  I hurry into the bathroom, figuring I have enough time to quickly sweep a razor over my legs. Wyatt joins me sooner than I expected, flipping the shower curtain open and grinning at me.

  “Whatcha doing?” he asks.

  “Shit, you scared me.” I flick some water and suds at him, which only makes his grin wider. “What does it look like I’m doing?” I ask, waving the razor in the air.

  “Hmm.” He strips down, keeping his eyes on me the entire time. “Need some help, angel?”

  “Maybe.” I step back so he can fit into the shower with me.

  “Fuck, you’re pretty,” he says, running his gaze up and down the length of my body. His eyes stray to the razor still dangling from my fingers. “Whatcha shaving?”

  I point down. “My legs. Maybe some other parts.”

  He breaks into a devilish smile and plucks the razor out of my hand. “I’ll handle the other parts.”

  “Really?” Before I have much of a chance to protest, he’s kneeling in front of me. “Spread your legs,” he orders. Kneeling or not, Wyatt’s definitely in charge.

  He flattens one of his palms against me, cupping my pussy. Two thick fingers press inside me. I groan and grab his shoulder for balance.

  “That’s right. Hang on to me. Feel good?”

  “Doesn’t seem very professional.” I gasp and nod at the razor in his hand.

  His deep chuckle slides over my skin like warm honey. He reaches for a bottle of conditioner and spends some time rubbing it into my skin. “Just a quick touch-up,” he murmurs as he slowly scrapes the razor over my sensitive parts. It’s not the first time Wyatt’s done this. It still makes me shiver with pleasure and vibrate with laughter at the same time. “That tickles!”

  “Keep still.”

  When he’s finished, he rinses me off but doesn’t make a move to stand.

  “What are you—”

  He uses his thumb to expose my clit and smiles up at me when I gasp. Slowly, he licks, barely touching his tongue to me at first. Desperately, I try to roll my hips, shove my pussy against him, needing the friction he seems determined to withhold.

  He dips his tongue lower and gives me long, slow licks. I’m so close to going off, I whine in frustration when he pulls away and stands.

  “Wyatt.” I pout and he leans down to kiss my cheek.

  “The tub’s killing my knees,” he says with a teasing grin. Flipping the curtain aside, he gives me another evil smile. “Don’t take too long.”

  “I’ll finish myself—”

  “Don’t you dare,” he growls, right outside the shower. “Mine, Trinity.”

  I’m shaking so hard, I’m not sure I can finish shaving my legs, but I do a quick swipe or two and flick the water off.

  I pause long enough to rub some oil into my skin and slip on underwear, flannel sleep-shorts and a tank top.

  Wyatt calls me over to him when I step out of the bathroom.

  He eyes my shorts and top. Stretching my arms over my head, I let out a big, fake yawn. “I’m sleepy.”

  His eyes narrow, but the corner of his mouth twitches as if he’s trying not to laugh. We both know I won’t be able to sleep after he wound me up so tight.

  “Put your hands on the wall and give me your ass.” His let’s get down to business tone dampens my panties instantly. He’s turned so serious, it’s hard to read him now. The uncertainty makes my heart race.

  My body screams finally! as I turn around, hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and dragging them down my legs.

  Each movement I make is precise and designed to tease him. He slaps my ass in response. “Don’t be cute. Spread your legs.”

  My skin tingles. That voice. My body loves it. I’m humming with anticipation. Excited for whatever he has planned.

  Even though I’m facing the wall, his gaze sears my skin. “Arch your back,” he says, coming closer. I do and he slips one arm around my middle, arranging me to his liking. His fingers slide down the front of my panties, through my wetness, and he hums against my ear. “Excited about
something, angel?”

  “You know I am,” I whine and get another swat on my butt.

  “Quiet.”

  Slowly, he makes his way to my clit, circling but not touching until I can’t help moaning.

  His other hand slides over my back, down over each cheek. When my body tenses, he leans over me, pressing soft kisses along my spine. “Relax, you’re all mine,” he whispers.

  God, he knows me so well. And I know him. He won’t be happy with just my heart and body. He wants everything. I want him to have everything and I want all of him until we’re completely intertwined.

  When I’m relaxed and hovering on the edge of orgasm, he takes his fingers away. “Wy—”

  “Shh.”

  He hooks his fingers in the sides of my underwear and drags them to my knees. I move to take them off, and he stops me with two gruff words. “Leave them.”

  Wyatt knows how to make me suffer and feel safe at the same time. Behind me, he kneels down, running his hands up and over my thighs and hips. He presses my legs even farther apart. The first touch of his tongue makes me jump and moan at the same time. Reaching behind me, I twist my fingers in his hair, and he abruptly stops.

  “Hands on the wall.”

  Eager for more of his talented tongue, I comply. I don’t think my body can take it if he leaves me on the edge again.

  He waits a few seconds before sliding a finger through my wetness. “Nice,” he whispers.

  Soft kisses tickle the sensitive spot behind my knee, traveling up to my inner thigh. I so badly want to turn and shove his face against my pussy. Force his mouth exactly where I need it. Somehow, I hold back, waiting while I tremble with anticipation. His big hands grasp my ass, opening me as wide as the underwear around my knees will allow, so he can bury his face between my legs. He thrusts his tongue inside me, then slowly makes his way to my clit.

  I gasp, fingers curling against the cold, unyielding wall. “God, Wyatt.”