by Nicole James
Then, almost as soon as she thought it, he threw her for a loop by acting the opposite. He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck in a tender, gentle way, almost as if to make up for the harsh kiss, pulling back and reining himself in as if it might be too much for her, as if he might be too much for her.
She felt her pulse quicken and her breath catch.
Just when she thought she had him figured out, he’d do what she least expected. She couldn’t keep up; one minute he was aggressive and controlling, the next tender and gentle. It was enough to make her head spin.
When he eased up on his hold of her, giving her a few inches of space, he turned his head, glancing around like he was trying to avoid smiling. She grinned and could see he wanted to grin in return, but he fought it, wanting to remain tough in front of the club. But the corner of his mouth pulled up, giving him away. It was just a fraction, but she caught it.
She pressed her forehead against his, nudging him with her nose, pulling back to smile into his face when she saw the corner of his mouth pull up even further. He couldn’t hold it back, no matter how hard he was trying. He was happy. And she saw it. She pressed her knuckles to the side of his mouth, and he leaned in, his eyes closing. And that was enough. That was all she needed.
In that moment they both knew—there was something there, something neither one of them could fight or wanted to fight anymore.
He leaned forward and kissed her again—a long slow kiss, soft this time.
The loud sound of a throat clearing broke the spell. Blood released her, and they both turned their heads to see who dared to interrupt them.
“Get a room!” one of the two men standing there said. He was grinning, his arms folded over his Evil Dead cut.
“Jesus Christ! Look what the cat dragged in.” Blood stood, a broad grin plastered on his face. He moved to hug each man, slapping backs and shouting, “Shades! Ghost! Good to see you boys.”
“Heard you needed some backup,” the second man said.
“Surprised you could break away from the little family, Shades.”
“He didn’t,” Ghost explained with a nod of his head. “We all piled in the van. Skylar’s outside showing Undertaker his grandchild.”
“That little baby big enough to travel?” Blood asked.
“She’s four weeks old. Fortunately she’s still in the mewling kitten phase where all she does is eat and sleep, so that makes it the perfect time to travel with her.” Shades’ eyes slid to Cat. “This the lady we heard so much about?”
“Depends. What the fuck did you hear?” Blood growled.
Ghost’s grin got bigger. “Just that some beautiful blonde nurse patched you up and needs our help.”
“Our? Thought you came down to help with the Death Heads situation?”
“We did, but as long as we’re here, might as well help out with getting her sister back, right?” He grinned at Blood. “Unless you’ve already handled that for her.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You gonna introduce us or what?”
“Cat, this smug asshole is Ghost. Pay him no mind.”
Cat grinned as the man took offense to Blood’s words. “Blood’s a grouch, if you haven’t figured that out already. Pleased to meet you, Cat.” He extended his hand, and she shook it.
“This other one with the baby puke on his shoulder is Shades.”
Shades glanced down at his cut. “Well, damn. She got me again.”
Cat reached across the bar and grabbed a napkin. “Here, let me.” She moved to wipe it off his leather vest, smiling up at him as she did. “I used to work in the pediatrics unit. I’m all too familiar with the sticky stuff.”
Shades grinned down at her as she cleaned him up. “Thanks, doll. You married?”
She shook her head, and he glanced at Blood. “Better snap her up quick, Blood. She ain’t afraid of cleaning up puke, and she’s managed to be around you longer than twenty-four hours without trying to kill you.”
“Says the man who had to threaten to throw his ol’ ladies suitcases in the lake to keep her from leaving his ass.”
“Ooo, good one, Bro,” Ghost joined in.
Blood turned on Ghost, not about to leave him out of the ribbing. “Cuff your ol’ lady to any beds lately?”
Ghost grinned. “Every Saturday night. Thanks for asking.”
***
Blood walked out of the clubhouse with Ghost and Shades. They moved around the side to where the bikes were parked. The club had just met to discuss the Death Head situation and catch the Alabama chapter up on what they knew. They’d spent about an hour in the chapel. It was dusk now, the last light fading from the sky.
Blood dipped his head to light up a cigarette, and as he blew the smoke out and shoved the lighter back in his pocket, his eyes sought out Cat where she sat with some of the girls at one of the picnic tables.
Shades looked over at him, followed his gaze, and grinned. “Wait a minute. Has somebody finally got to you?”
Ghost’s brows shot up. “No shit? The nurse? For real? You’re not just playin’?”
Blood took a hit off his cigarette. “Blow me.”
“Yep, somebody finally got to you. What does it feel like?” Shades pressed, not about to cut him any slack.
“Truth? It feels good.” Blood could admit it. Hell, he supposed it was obvious to anyone who gave a fuck enough to be observant. The signs were all there… The chin lift he gave and that she returned with one of her own, a small smile playing across her face, knowing they’d been intimate, like it was a precious secret they each shared and treasured, knowing they’d do it again.
Even now, as he watched her across the lot, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His gaze followed her every move and everything around him fell away. That’s how drawn he was to her.
And he knew that later tonight, the moment they were alone, they’d look over at each other, and a second later they’d be across the space and in each other’s arms. Clutching, grabbing… They wouldn’t be able to get close enough. And even though it had only been hours, it would feel like forever since they’d been together.
They couldn’t deny the pull they felt, the closeness, the rightness that just being together brought them.
It was something neither of them may have felt before, and the newness of it, the surprise at feeling it for the first time in all these years wasn’t lost on him.
Blood’s phone went off, drawing him from his thoughts. He glanced at the incoming number.
Black Jack.
Finally.
“I need to take this.” He stepped away, moving out of earshot and put the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”
“Hello, Son.”
“See you got my text.”
“You got my attention, and you’re right. We should talk.”
“Name the time and place.”
“My compound, nine o’clock tomorrow night.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Not so fast. I have an offer I want you to think over in the meantime. There’s something I want more than that old ring.”
“There is always a catch with you. You’ve always got some ulterior motive or some agenda. What is it this time?”
“I just want you to come home, Son.”
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
“I’m very serious.”
“You have wildly misjudged our relationship.”
“I don’t think so. Come back and work for me. You do, and I’ll let your pretty blonde girlfriend have her sister back.”
Goddamn it. He knew about Cat. Obviously he had intel. Hell, he’d probably had him followed or watched. “How’d you find that out?” Blood asked tersely. “Your crack detective squad?”
Black Jack chuckled. “You know my men are dedicated to their work.”
“Yeah? I also know you’re short a man.”
“Now that you mention it, one of my men has gone missing. Do you have him?”
“He’s fish
food right about now.”
“Pity. He was a good man. It’s hard to find such loyalty.”
“Maybe not as loyal as you think.”
“Perhaps.”
“Funny thing about men who are about to die. They do a lot of talking.”
”Hmm, so I’ve heard.”
“Let’s cut the bullshit. What do you want?”
“It’s important to you to get the girl back, so I’ll make you a deal. And we’ll both get what we want.”
“Yeah? What kind of deal?”
“Simple. All you have to do is come home.”
Blood’s first reaction was to tell him to go fuck himself, but he took a breath. He couldn’t afford to blow this. “And?”
“Leave that club and come back to working for me.”
“I never worked for you.”
“You were in line for all of this. It’s your birthright.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Sure you do. Come home, Son. I’ll forgive everything you did. You can run my empire.”
“I will never run a fucking thing for you.”
“Well, I guess that depends on how badly you want this girl. She’s important to someone you care about. So the question is, just what are you willing to sacrifice?”
“You son of a bitch!” Blood hissed out.
“Bring one man with you to take the girl home. Because, Etienne, you won’t be leaving. Nine o’clock. Don’t be late. You know how I hate to be kept waiting. Oh, and Etienne, you try anything, I’ll have my men kill her.”
The line went dead, and Blood dropped his arm, a sick feeling settling in his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to his father—a man he’d hated since he was a boy. But he knew how much Cat needed her sister back, and he’d promised her. He’d promised he’d get her back. He owed her that much. Hell, he owed her his very life. It was more than just a debt now. It was way past that. He’d begun to have feelings for her, and he didn’t want to see her hurt. It would absolutely destroy her to lose her sister. Could he bear to see her go through that? She would be completely broken.
Blood looked back at the clubhouse he’d called home for all these years, and he considered Black Jack’s terms. Just how much was he willing to sacrifice to get Cat her sister back?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Blood shoved the phone in his pocket and turned back to the clubhouse. The parking lot and picnic tables were now empty, everyone having headed back inside as the mosquitos came out in force with the night air. He, too, headed inside and glanced around, not seeing Cat. He grabbed Marla’s arm as she passed him. “Where’s Cat?”
“She said she was going upstairs. I think she was tired.”
He nodded. “Thanks, babe.”
His brothers were gathered at the bar now, and they flagged him down with a shot. He only intended to have one, but it was hours before he finally called it a night.
When he went up to his room, expecting to find Cat, the room was empty. He strode down the hall to the room she’d been using previously. He tapped on the wood with his knuckle, his shoulder to the frame. A moment later, Cat answered. “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
The door opened.
She stood there dressed in nothing but one of his flannel shirts she’d confiscated and her panties. His eyes swept over her, and then he straightened and pushed inside. She backed up a step. His brows rose, and there was a bite to his voice when he asked, “What are you doing in here?”
She glanced at the bed. “I was going to sleep. I figured you’d be with those guys from out of town, partying all night.”
In a bed other than his? Oh hell no.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room and down the hall, disregarding her objections or the way she pulled back.
“Blood, what are you doing? Are you crazy?” she hissed.
He dragged her into his room and slammed the door.
She took a step back, not at all sure what to expect from him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, dragging me around like that?”
“This separate bedroom bullshit is done with. If you’re in my clubhouse, then you’re in my bed.” He arched his brows. “And that’s where I want you. Now.”
She arched her brows right back at him. “Oh, really? You think you can just order me around.”
“Yup. And what’s more, you like it. You like me taking control. You’re nipples are hard. I can see ‘em right through the shirt.” He lifted his chin.
She folded her arms over her chest and denied it. “They are not.”
“We both know that’s a lie.”
Her chin came up. She knew it was.
“Done talkin’. Now drop the shirt.”
Her hands landed on her hips. “After you just hauled me down the hallway barely dressed? Nuh-uh. We’re not having sex now.”
“That’s exactly what we’re gonna do. I need this. I need you.” He moved to the door and threw the lock, his eyes never leaving hers. “This is how it’s gonna be.”
“No.”
He prowled slowly toward her, his gaze sweeping over her bare legs and his eyes darkening. “No is not an option. You are a necessity.”
“You can’t always have your way.”
“There are things we can negotiate. This isn’t one of them.”
She licked her lips, and he cocked a brow at her, reading her mind. She liked this—him taking control. That’s exactly what she wanted him to do.
“You like this. Are you going to deny it?” He kept advancing and lifted his chin toward the shirt. He didn’t have to say it again.
Her fingers moved to the buttons, and she shimmied it off her shoulders, the soft fabric pooling on the floor at her feet. His eyes swept over her, taking in every inch of that exposed skin.
Her arms lifted, her hands going to her panties, but he stopped her. His voice was low and gravelly as he leaned to her ear, nipping it. “I didn’t say you could move.”
Her breath caught, and he watched her pretty white teeth bite into her plump bottom lip. His eyes swept down her body to the panties.
“Those are mine.” He bent and slowly slid them down her legs, watching her reaction as he hung them on the bedpost. “They stay right there.”
He took her by the arm and spun her around to face the bed. Bending her over it, he kicked her ankles wide with his boot to spread her open as he fumbled with his jeans, releasing the huge erection she’d given him. He slipped his fingers between her legs. Fuck, yes. She was wet and ready. He played with her for a moment, spreading her lubrication over both of them. Then he drove into her and fucked her. There were no pretty words for it. He fucked her in long, hard, deep strokes, the kind that had the bed moving every time he slammed home.
He adjusted his angle until he found the one that had her crying out and begging for more. He found the spot that had her losing all control—that spot inside her that caused those delicious moans to rise up from her throat. He answered her with a grunting rumble of his own that rose up from deep within his chest.
She was so hot, so good. He knew he’d never get enough of her. Never.
She was face down on the bed under him, her hands fisted in the sheet, her elbows tucked tight under her.
His body pressed down on her, looming over her. His left hand slid around her throat, lifting her head to him as he kissed her cheekbone.
“You there yet, baby? I can’t hold back any longer.” He let go to slide his fingers between her legs. He found that trigger and a moment later she exploded in orgasm. He straightened, grabbed her hips again, and held her tight as he hammered like a piston in and out of her, then planted himself solid as his own climax detonated inside her.
He collapsed beside her, his lungs working like bellows in his sweat-covered chest. He turned his head to look at her. “You okay, babe?”
She nodded and scooted closer, her arm going across his chest.
He repositioned them in the bed, tuck
ing her against his side, their heads on the pillow.
“Blood? Is everything okay?”
He rolled on top of her, going up on his elbows to look down at her face, his hand brushing the hair back from her forehead. “It is now.”
She tried to smile, and he saw the sadness in her eyes and noticed the dried tear tracks down her cheeks. His thumbs brushed over them and he frowned. “Cat, did I hurt you?”
She shook her head.
“You were crying before, pretty girl. Why?”
“What if Holly ends up back with the Death Heads?” she whispered. “I want my sister, Blood.”
“I’ll get her, Cat. Don’t worry,” he tenderly reassured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I trust you, Blood. I believe you.”
He pulled back to look in her eyes. “I told you before, I’m not like the other bikers you’ve known. You starting to see that?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.”
He needed to let it all go. Right now he didn’t want to think about what tomorrow may bring. He didn’t want to think about the fact that this may be their last night together. He didn’t want to think about the fact that if he went back to his father, he may very well lose Cat in the process.
He knew what his father would expect from him. He’d have to run Black Jack’s dirty business—a business he wanted nothing to do with. And he’d have to do it with men who weren’t his brothers, men he couldn’t trust, men whose only loyalty was to the almighty buck. The whole idea made him sick.
But maybe the only way to bring Black Jack down was from the inside. At least that way he could turn the tide on this alliance his father seemed hell-bent on with the Death Heads. At least he could put a stop to that. His father would no longer feel the need to drive the Evil Dead MC out. They would no longer be a threat to him, because really, the only reason he couldn’t abide them was because Blood had chosen them over him.
But setting aside his club, taking off his cut, for good? Could he bring himself to do it?
