“That gash don’t know shit about you,” Colton growled, his hands itching to be wrapped round Hunt’s throat and having to make do with clenching into fists instead.
“No? I cheated on a boyfriend who cared about me, just so I could screw around with some biker ...”
“Some biker, huh?”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Colt ...” Callie sighed again, as his eyes narrowed dangerously – even though he wasn’t sure why it mattered to him – and when his response came, it was hard to say which of them was more thrown.
“You ever think maybe some biker fucking cares about you?”
***
CHAPTER 33
Colton had never bought into that you’re-too-good-for-me self-imposed martyrdom bullshit. For a start, it had been a hell of a long time since there’d been a woman in his life good for anything more than a casual fuck. But he was also firmly of the opinion that any guy who wound up with a chick who was too good for him should just quit whining about it and either cut her loose or man the fuck up, be what she needed, and thank his lucky stars.
But that incredible little gray-eyed bitch was definitely too good to be treated like some club slut. And even if he could respect that, he found himself wondering - not for the first time - if she really needed, or deserved, the rest of the shit that came with being dragged further into the turbulence of his life ...
FLASHBACK
Despite everything, her beauty not quite ravaged by illness – not yet anyway – but certainly faded, she still retained a touch of the same class she’d always held. Her long silver-streaked hair may have been a little rumpled where it lay against the plump pillows, but it was otherwise brushed into soft dark waves and her lips were touched with just a hint of dusky rose stain. Her confinement largely to bed rest in recent weeks didn’t seem to have allowed her standards to slip.
“I suppose my big strong son is expecting me not to notice how he’s holding himself, not to ask what trouble he’s run into this time.”
“You know me too well, ma,” Colton said wryly from the doorway, where he’d paused despite knowing better than to think anything would slip past the sharp-as-a-tack woman - cancer or no damn cancer. As she never tired of reminding him, there was nothing wrong with her mind. “How ya feelin’?”
“So-so, I guess. Now, come here and pretend you’re not too tough to give your poor old mother a kiss.”
Going through the ritual of feigning a grumble, the biker crossed to her bedside and leaned down with an arm cradling his lower abdomen to graze his lips against her clammy forehead. He didn’t miss the look of concern that flared in brown eyes that had lost their shine though, and something twisted guiltily in his gut. He probably shouldn’t have been up and about himself, but his visits were a routine he tried not to disrupt and, even knowing the chance of hiding the truth was slim, he’d made the journey rather than have her worry over his absence.
It had proved only the lesser of two evils though, rather than a real solution.
“Show me,” Maríana Greene commanded, on hearing the slight groan as he straightened up. Her eyes challenging him to refuse, until he reluctantly tugged the hem of his plain white t-shirt up with one ringed hand to briefly reveal his heavily bandaged side. “Oh, my boy ...” she sighed. “Tell me what they did to you this time.”
Thankful the wound at least hadn’t bled through, knowing that would have looked far worse to her, he let the soft material fall back in place and eased himself down into the chair by her bedside. He tried in vain to find a comfortable way to sit after the long drive – one that hadn’t been made all that much easier for swapping his bike for a borrowed cage. He knew she wasn’t expecting details and that it would be easier in the long run to just give her something. “Got followed on the way back from Reno,” he scowled at the memory. “Caught a bullet, but it ain’t for you to be fretting over.”
Her lips pursed while she let that sink in, saying nothing for a long moment and instead simply reaching out to lay a tender hand on her only son’s inked arm.
“Ma ... I said no fretting,” Colton said gruffly.
“A mama always worries,” she said, her voice soft and seeming resigned to her lot. “Were you ... alone? When it happened, were you alone?”
He knew from prior experience that his mother’s worst fear involved him checking out all on his own, not even his brothers there for him. Dead in the dirt by some roadside, without anyone to even know never mind care.
She had probably never wanted the club life for him, had instead – and this he knew for certain, from her less-than-subtle hints over the years – held onto the hope that one day he would give her the daughter-in-law and grandchildren she’d always longed for, for his sake more than hers. But while she’d learned to live with his choices, he knew it was the times he went on the road alone that scared her most of all.
And sometimes it crossed even his mind that it probably wasn’t the mere physical danger of him travelling solo that worried her. More likely, it was the thought of the man he could become without anyone else in his life. Without someone to bring him back when the darkness of the things he saw, the things he did, threatened to over-shadow him ...
But Colton shook his head in answer to her question. “Ended up hiding out in Sketch’s place. Chick he works with was there--”
“Oh, Colton,” his mother interrupted, looking close to horrified. “You let some poor innocent girl get caught up in your violence?”
“Didn’t mean to,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and feeling unusually chastised. “She didn’t get hurt. I wouldn’t have let them hurt her, ma.”
“Them. So you were out-numbered. Even you might not have been able to stop them, my son.”
The thought had occurred to him at the time. For the girl who’d earned his respect though, who’d trusted him enough to make that jump into his arms, he’d have put up a hell of a fight …
***
“Do you?” Callie was asking, reaching out tentatively as he towered over her with his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans, leaving her fingers to graze his wrist under his dark gaze. “Care about me, I mean?”
“You really gotta ask, little girl?” he said roughly, letting her hand somehow work its way into his and tugging her closer - despite all the reasons he should cut her loose flooding back through his mind again. But there was one big difference between that instant and the time he’d had to do his thinking on his bike.
She was right there.
Stood in front of him, in sweatpants and his hoody thrown over a simple tank top, with hardly any make-up and her hair tumbling loose down her back. Those damn doe eyes gazing up at him, just waiting for some kind of clarity from him.
Colton was and always would be a club soldier through and through, but he wasn’t quite the soulless machine others often thought him to be. Sometimes the blood on his hands weighed heavily on his shoulders, yet she had always been able to give him a little bit of something as close to peace as he supposed a man like him could hope for. Somehow she’d gotten under his skin like no one else ever had and, more importantly ...
He just fucking wanted her.
“Colton!”
His name turned into a little shriek of surprise as strong hands seized her hips and lifted her effortlessly into the air, her own hands grabbing his shoulders for balance until she soon found herself trapped between solid muscle and the wall. A soft smile tugged at her mouth, even as she leaned down to meet his hungry kisses.
“I care, okay?” he took a second to mumble against her lips, burying a hand in her hair. Feeling her arms wind around his neck, he let his mouth trail down her throat, tugging his hoody off her shoulder to kiss the bold ink he exposed. “Shit, Callie, ‘course I fucking care ...”
Instead of a response, she just focused her attention on returning his kisses with just as much heat – only pushing against his chest so he leaned back just far enough to let her wriggle out of his hoody comple
tely. He was on her again almost before the dark material hit the floor though, his tongue tangling fiercely with hers and his hands dragging her vest top upwards before finally breaking away to tug it over her head.
But, despite his eyes being dark with lust as they raked over her body, something held him back for just long enough to make her frown. “Colt, what’s wrong?” Callie asked breathlessly, her fingers tangling in the hem of his t-shirt as he let her slide back down onto her feet – still trapped between him and the wall though.
“You gonna give me shit for trying to tell ya this ain’t just about sex, when I end up dragging this sweet ass into bed every time I come round here?” Colton demanded roughly, his hands caressing said ass as he watched a little smirk start to play across her face.
“Who’s been dragged anywhere?” she asked, eyebrows raised almost in some kind of suggestive challenge. “And besides, you don’t have to take me to bed ...”
That was as much as he gave her time for, letting her catch only a second of the devilish grin he shot her and then swiftly spinning her around to brace herself palms-first against the wall. “Ain’t nearly as innocent as ya look, huh, darlin’?” he ground out, his breath hot against her neck and teeth nipping at her ear as he pressed his body flush against hers.
Her ass pushing back against his crotch in reply made him groan and quickly sent the hand he had splayed on her stomach beneath the waistband of her sweatpants and between her legs. Just her responsiveness and the little sounds of pleasure his exploring was drawing was doing almost as much for him as her rubbing up against the definite bulge even his baggy jeans couldn’t hide.
“Oh, shit ...” she gasped, biting her lip as his fingers twisted inside her at the exact moment his thumb grazed her sensitive clit. No accident, the smirk on his face would have told her. Had she been in a position to see it. “Dammit, Colton ... please ...”
“Easy, baby girl,” came the low growl, even as his free hand reached for the buckle of his belt – the promise that followed sounding as much like a threat in his gravelly voice. “You know I’ll take care of ya ...”
And he did.
***
CHAPTER 34
A beer in one hand, lit cigar in the other, brown eyes surveyed their domain and all who passed through it and proclaimed it good. Friday nights could be wild, but they could also be like this - big enough to honour their visiting brothers, mellow enough to be just what the whole club family needed ...
The yard glowed under the strings of twinkling golden lights hung across it by the prospects, who’d spent all day also rigging up the sound system and a makeshift bar outside and generally being bossed around by Jake’s wife Kim. As the most senior of the old ladies, she’d been the one to do most of the organising and yet had barely needed to lift a finger to ensure everything got done just so. And now, glossy chestnut hair in an elegant twist and a black lace dress paired with her black leather knee-high boots, she was still firmly in hostess mode as she stood by her husband to meet-and-greet friends while he threw steaks onto the barbecue he presided over.
Normally, the food would be the sole responsibility of the old ladies and they had provided all the essentials – a seemingly endless supply of steaks and burgers, skewers loaded with marinated chicken, baby tomatoes and green peppers, huge bowls of salad and slaw and corn cobs - and that was before you even mentioned the array of desserts waiting to be served afterwards. But for a barbecue, the men were prepared to take a more hands-on approach and it was Jake’s turn to take charge of the cooking – a job that apparently required he be kept refreshed with a steady supply of cold beer.
Elsewhere around the yard, the Fallen and their families milled around, catching up over food, talking and laughing. It wasn’t quite the usual free-for-all and if there had been any strippers, Kim was more than capable of sending them packing with nothing more than a steely look, but there were still plenty of hangarounds – and, probably more importantly, some of the less in-your-face girls who knew how to toe the line - adding to the numbers. They couldn’t disappoint their Reno guests after all ...
And being only occasional visitors to Haven, Shay and Chip were proving popular with the regulars who were more than keen to give a warm welcome to some fresh targets.
“Great party, man!” the Reno intelligence officer hollered in Will’s direction, a broad grin splitting his face as a leggy raven-haired chick slid an arm around his shoulders and whispered something slyly in his ear. “Really great!”
Tilting his beer bottle in Chip’s direction in a silent toast, the president smiled to himself. It was times like this that he could let the stresses of life just slip away and he was damn sure going to make the most of it. Just like his men. Even those with arguably the biggest threat still hanging over their heads were enjoying themselves.
In between downing long swigs of his beer, Sam was evidently regaling his captive audience with tales of past runs or conquests or both as cheers and full-throated laughter rang out, even with the music playing. And stood right there among the listeners, his enforcer – an ear open to his brother, but his watchful eyes scanning over the crowd before seeming to lock in on their target. Will didn’t even need to look to know who was in his sights.
***
“Hey, ‘scuse me? You’re the tattoo chick, aren’t you?”
Having just arrived at the club’s compound, later than promised after her efforts to disguise the bruise at her temple and its cycle through various shades of purple and green, Callie looked around at the bright and breezy query. In the end, she’d settled for hiding most of the ugly injury with the broad band of soft fabric that held her loose hair back from her face – something she was glad she could do when faced with so many women who’d obviously gone to great efforts to impress. “Uh, yeah – Callie,” she nodded, taking in the redhead in front of her and trying to remember if they’d ever met before and if she should know her. “You want to get inked or something? Only I’m not exactly working, so I didn’t bring my ...”
A tinkling peal of laughter quickly interrupted them though, as soon as a leggy peroxide blonde overheard a hint of their conversation. A smirk of mock pity crossed crimson lips. “Don’t tell me the little airhead’s actually asking you about getting a patch’s ink. Didn’t you get the hint when Will lost interest and palmed you off?”
“Bite me, Crystal,” Ashley said sweetly, albeit with a roll her eyes. “And if being palmed off means ending up in bed with Sam’s fine ass ... hey, I’ll take that. Now, you done?”
Perhaps sensing this could be one battle that she might not win, the girl flounced off with a forced air of boredom with her adversary and left her to turn to Callie with a wry smile. “Sorry ‘bout that. And for the record, no, I’m not deluded enough to be even thinking about that kind of ink. Crystal’s the bunny-boiler round here – I’m surprised Kim even let her through the door - so she just judges everyone else by how her own mind works, y’know? I actually wanted to ask if you guys do piercings as well as tatts, but I don’t wanna bug you when you’re not working ...”
“It’s fine,” Callie shrugged, the two girls falling into step as they headed for the bar as if by unspoken agreement. “Listen, why don’t you drop by the studio at the start of next week? See if Sketch can fit you in – I leave most of that side of things to him. Or you can give me your number and I can get him to call you when he’s got a free slot. What are you thinking of getting done?”
“Nipple,” Ashley said, with a little grin. “I wanted to a few years ago, but ended up getting my tongue done instead and then just never got round to it. So, hey, if you’re not working tonight ... what brings you here?”
“I was, uh ... invited ...”
FLASHBACK
He’d taken her to bed after all, but not until he’d already made her moan like a porn star up against the wall of her bedroom and reduced her legs to jelly. At least they didn’t have far to go when he’d scooped her up in his arms, crossed the room in just
a few long strides and deposited her on top of the covers of the bed. She was completely naked, while he was still almost fully dressed – if a little dishevelled, with his jeans yanked back up but unfastened and his t-shirt askew – yet only the slightest hint of self-consciousness crossed her mind.
After what they’d just done, coupled with the rest of the times they’d been together, it seemed pretty redundant to cover herself up now. And besides, as she slowly stretched out her weary body like a kitten with a little sigh of satisfaction, she could tell he was getting a kick out of the view.
Seeming to guess what she was thinking, Colton cocked his head on one side as he drank in the sight of her and then sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to run a hand up over her thigh, her stomach, her ribs. Only stopping when his fingertips grazed the delicate underside of her breast. “Beautiful,” he told her, even the gruff, one-word compliment making her blush just a little when he was looking at her with those intense eyes.
He hadn’t exactly been overly gentle with her before and he was bound to notice the way her nipples still flushed a deep dusky pink from the ministrations of his fingers, the marks where he’d gripped her hips that would probably turn into bruises ...
“Colton ...” she breathed softly, caught off-guard when he dipped his head and took one of her nipples in his mouth, lathing his tongue over the tender little bud in soft sweeps. Her hand reached to lazily caress the scruff of his head, as he shifted his attention to her other breast. Of all the things she had expected from him, this kind of attentiveness wasn’t even on the list. She was certainly more than content to bask in it though, letting him kiss his way down her body to soothe his tongue over the marks on her hips.
Ink (The Haven Series) Page 22
