Blood in the Water (Kairos)

by Catherine Johnson

  “Yeah, she is.”

  The hush that had been rapidly descending on the room as people turned and tuned in to the altercation became a blanket of complete silence.

  “Sorry, brother. No one said anyone was off limits.”

  He released Ashleigh with an exaggerated flourish. She came straight to Paul’s side. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close, but it was only when he felt her tuck her body into his side, against his bare skin, that he realized his t-shirt was still clutched in his other fist.

  “Well now you know.”

  Garfield nodded; Paul knew he’d received the message that he was on notice. Paul shot a look at Tag, who paled visibly. Paul didn’t say a word, but he knew that Tag had received and understood his message. He would bleed at Paul’s hands. As Paul turned and guided Ashleigh to the pool table, he caught the expressions of the men standing there, and he thought maybe it wouldn’t only be his fists that would be drawing blood from Tag.

  As soon as he was close enough, Dizzy slapped Paul on the shoulder that Ashleigh wasn’t tucked under. At that gesture the conversations restarted and the noise level in the room amped up again to its previous level.

  “I’m sorry, brother.” Rabbit said. “I kinda feel like I should apologize for him.”

  “Don’t. He’s grown. He owns himself.” Paul gritted out. He was still pumped up on the adrenaline from the confrontation and seething with the need to make someone hurt, but he was not going to relinquish his hold on Ashleigh for that reason, and not the night before such a long run with trouble brewing on the horizon.

  “Tonight’s not the night for him, brother.” Dizzy said soothingly. Paul knew he and Dizzy were of the same mind about Garfield. “But do you wanna make the little shit bleed or should I?”

  Paul knew Dizzy was referring to Tag. “If you wanna pull rank, I’m good with that. As long as the retard learns he should’ve stood up for her.”

  He knew that Ashleigh wasn’t upset by the way they were discussing her as if she weren’t there, or that if she was she wasn’t going to kick up a fuss, because she cuddled into his body a little more. He tightened his grip in response. She had her arms around his stomach; her sleeves had ridden up so that it was bare skin to bare skin. The adrenaline was receding and he was beginning to have difficulty concentrating.

  Dizzy looked Paul in the eyes and then glanced behind him in Tag’s direction. “I’ll do it. I leave it to you; I think maybe you’d kill him.”

  “I wouldn’t mean to.” It was only half a lie.

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t.” Dizzy responded dryly.

  Paul had just about had enough of everything for the night. There was only one place he wanted to be right now, and the clubhouse wasn’t it. He looked down at Ashleigh.

  “You ready to leave?”

  “Whenever you are.”

  “Good.” He squeezed her shoulders and turned to the other men. “Be seeing you boys in the morning.”

  “Bright and early, yeah.” Chiz piped up. “Don’t be over sleepin’ now.”

  Paul didn’t dignify the jibe with a response. He nodded to Crash, who nodded back, seemingly unconcerned with anything accept Tag’s failure to uphold his responsibilities.

  “Go easy on him, darlin’.” Rabbit addressed Ashleigh with mock condescension. “He’s an old man. Not used to swinging from chandeliers and shit.”

  “I’ll take care of him.” Ashleigh said, tilting her head to look up at Paul with a wicked smile.

  “Oh I just bet you will.” Rabbit laughed.

  Paul snatched his kutte from the edge of the pool table. Keeping Ashleigh under his arm, he headed for the door. He had no intention of releasing her while they were still in the clubhouse, not tonight. He wanted the message to be loud and clear. He would put his shirt on outside.

  He looked over to Dean as they passed. He was standing with Fletch where they had been watching Annabelle attempt tricks on the stripper pole. Dean did not look happy, but whether that ire was directed at him or at Tag or at Garfield, Paul couldn’t tell, and he didn’t much care. If Dean had an issue with him being with his sister, he could take it up with him in the ring. Fletch nodded, but it was Ashleigh that he saluted with his beer bottle. Judging by the fistful of Leah’s hair he was still clutching, it looked as though Kong may have been completely oblivious to the whole episode.

  Paul didn’t try to seek out Terry in the crowd. All he cared about was getting Ashleigh out of there and safely home. To his or hers he didn’t care. The only thing that caused him to pause on the way out was that Samuel and Moira were standing by the door. Moira looked like the cat that got the cream. Her expression, both smug and pleased, was so complete that she looked as though she might start licking her lips to clean her whiskers at any second.

  Samuel stepped forward and spoke quietly, directly to Paul. “Take care of my little girl.”

  Paul knew that Samuel was referring to more than his daughter’s emotional well-being. Such a close association with a patch drew her deeper into their drama. Samuel would be seeing tonight as a knot in the rope between the Priests and the Rabid Dogs, and close to the club meant showing up on the radar of the Mexicans.

  “I will.” Paul promised. And he meant it.

  They stepped through the doors into the warm night air, but he didn’t stop until they reached his bike. There was the barest breeze, but the night felt thick, like warm bathwater. He reluctantly withdrew his arm from around Ashleigh so that he could pull his t-shirt on and shrug his kutte onto his shoulders.

  He lifted the flap on one of the saddlebags on his bike and pulled out a spare helmet, which he handed to Ashleigh without ceremony, but a thrill went through him when he saw how pleased she was at his thoughtfulness. He dug into the other bag for his own helmet, having stowed it there to keep the bugs out of it.

  “Yours or mine?” He asked as they both clipped their chin straps in place.

  “Yours.” Ashleigh decided. “You’ve got a long run tomorrow; you need your own bed. You can drop me back here in the morning for me to collect my car.”

  Paul stretched out his hand to run his fingers ever so lightly over her cheek; the whispering touches at odds with the intensity of his tone. “I wasn’t plannin’ on sleepin’ much, beauty.”

  “Me either.” Ashleigh’s voice had dropped as well. “Just thought you might be more comfortable in your own bed.”

  “Beauty, let’s see if we make it to the bed first.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Promises indeed! Ashleigh was sincerely hoping that Paul lived up to everything that his tone and the firm muscles of his body advertised.

  Her mother had given her the opportunity to duck out of helping tonight, given that there would be members of a different club in town. The Rabid Dogs were allies, but they were still men who drank heavily and tended to think with their small brain first, as the dick at the bar had proven tonight.

  Ashleigh hadn’t spent long enough in the main room to put names to faces. She had elected to help out because she wanted to see Paul and had been hoping that maybe she’d have the chance to get a little close to him again. Well that wish had been granted in spades. Whoever it was that had grabbed hold of her should have been more observant, but it was well into the night and she could excuse his behavior far easier than she could Tag’s. The stupid little douche had left her hanging, hadn’t said a fucking word to get the other guy to let go of her. From the conversation by the pool table, she knew that Tag would receive a thorough education in the error of his ways.

  And then what should have been a minor inconvenience at best and what could have turned into a complete and utter cluster fuck had resulted with her ending up on the back of Paul’s bike, having demonstrated to the entire club that they were a couple, and with her father’s blessing, it seemed. She had been sure it was going to be more than just a couple of fucks between her and Paul, but it might have been nice to ex
plore that beginning privately for a little longer. She couldn’t kid herself, though; it would have had to come out in the wash sooner rather than later.

  Ashleigh loved riding. She wouldn’t keep her own bike. A Harley would be out of the question and anything else would likely give her father or any of the other patches an aneurysm. Besides, she often had to carry files or equipment around, or occasionally some of the animals themselves. That was far easier to accommodate in her Buick Encore. She’d spent a lot of time riding with her father when she was younger, and sometimes he would still take her out to lunch or breakfast and when he did they would always take his bike; but other than that it had been a long time, too long since she’d ridden.

  Riding with Paul was a revelation, worlds away from the feel of riding behind her father and even different from the rides she’d taken with Crash when he’d gotten his first bike. The feel of Paul’s massive, solid body between her thighs, turned her on in a way she hadn’t known was possible. The only way to relieve the ache it caused was to press herself more tightly against him; and in her aroused state the seam on her jeans became a super highway conducting the vibrations of the engine directly to her clit. She wanted to take a long ride with him sometime when they had the time, just to see...

  She tucked her head against his back, between his shoulder blades, and slipped her palms under his t-shirt as they sped through the limpid night. Ashleigh smiled to herself when she felt the bike twitch under them at the same time as her hands made contact with Paul’s bare flesh. She really didn’t want to cause him to lay the bike down, but sheer devilry moved her fingers over the ridges of his abs and lower. She felt the bike twitch again as she dropped one hand to cup his crotch. She gasped when she felt how rigid he was under the denim, and then pouted when his hand dropped to return hers to his stomach.

  She was trying not to grind her pelvis against the hard seat of the bike when Paul turned off the highway, down the winding avenue to his house. The trees, dripping with Spanish moss, were eerie during daylight; they were positively foreboding in the dark lit only by the headlamps of Paul’s bike. It was cooler here, since the sun had difficulty penetrating this thick canopy, so the ground had less heat to release back at the end of the day.

  When he pulled up outside his house, before he killed the engine, Ashleigh could see that he’d cleared some of the overgrown grass and scrub from around the house and done some work to tidy up the boards that formed the porch and the building itself. She only got a brief opportunity to look before the headlamps faded out with the death of their power source. The scent of leather that had filled her head on the ride was replaced by the baked ground and the verdant vegetation as she swung herself somewhat reluctantly off the bike. Paul dismounted and packed their helmets away before offering his hand to Ashleigh. She was surprised and touched by the innocent gesture and allowed him to wrap her fingers in his and lead her up the porch steps into the house.

  He unlocked the door, ushered her into the house, and then turned and locked it behind them.

  “That you keeping me safe?”

  “Some. And it’d be just like Rabbit to find his way over here, drunk as a skunk, and try and join in.”

  “Oh, Okay.”

  Paul flicked a small side lamp on. The light chased the darkness down to mere shadows in the corners. It was cool in the house, which could be attributed to the shady trees that surrounded the property, but when she realized she couldn’t hear the rattle of the ancient A.C. unit, Ashleigh figured Paul must have upgraded. All in all, everything looked a little more done up, a little cleaner, since the last time she’d been there.

  Paul slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close against his body. “I’d ask if you want a drink or somethin’, but beauty, I just wanna get you naked as soon as possible.”

  The look in his eyes stoked the embers that had been smoldering since their ride and had her body burning up from the inside out. The heat made her brain stutter. “Oh, okay. I’m good with that.”

  He made a sound that could only be described as animalistic and then he was on her. He wrapped his other arm around her back and pulled her closer than she had thought was possible as his mouth took hers thoroughly and completely, just as greedy for the taste of her as she was for him. When he’d kissed her past the point of coherent thought, his lips moved down her throat until he took the tender skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder between his teeth, nipping just a shade on the other side of lightly. She was going to have a hickey in the morning, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She could feel his growl vibrate through her skin to her very core.

  Ashleigh hooked her arms under his and over his shoulders so that she could sink her nails into those wonderful muscles that had occupied her dreams since she’d first seen them. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to get closer or holding on for dear life as she arched up against him, needing to rub as much of her body against his as she could. She threw her head back, allowing him all the access he desired to her throat.

  Without raising his head, one hand left her hip and tugged at the elastic holding her ponytail in place, pulling it free in rough jerks. If she’d have had any presence of mind left she might have complained, except his fingers were buried in her loose hair, massaging her scalp and feeling wondrous as they combed through the strands.

  He abandoned his ravishment of her neck just long enough to walk her backwards until she hit a wall. Then those massive hands were on her hips, his fingers digging into the meat of her ass as he lifted her like she weighed no more than thistledown. She hooked her legs around his hips, loathe to let any space intrude between them. Doing so ripped another one of those bestial grunts from his chest that Ashleigh wanted to hear over and over again.

  Despite them still being both fully clothed, he was flexing against her and she was matching his movements, as they lost their moans in each others mouths, not kissing, but close enough to be breathing for each other. She opened her eyes and found his right in front of her, drowning dark pools that she couldn’t look away from. She was enveloped by the scent of him; his skin, the road, his leather. His hips were thrusting against what felt like every nerve ending she possessed as he ground his hard-on into her crotch through two layers of denim.

  And suddenly she was coming. The stimulation of the bike and the myriad sensations they were ripping from each other cascaded into the void that was the time, longer than a year, since she’d felt any touch other than her own.

  “That’s it, beauty. Go on. Let me see. Let me see you. Let me see you come, beauty.” Paul’s breathless chant coincided with each savage, desperate thrust of his muscular hips.

  She was coming, coming so hard that her body seemed to split apart. The pieces flew into the air like handfuls of confetti. Only then could she break the hold his eyes had on hers. She threw her head back and screamed.

  As the world righted itself around her, even as the electricity of her orgasm still singed her blood, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder.

  “Fuck.” More a pant than a spoken word rushed past her ear.

  He was still holding her up against the wall, his grip still strong, his hips still flexing, but more gently now, as if he couldn’t stop them.

  “Fuck.” He panted again before drawing in a deep breath. She could feel him striving for mastery of his body, searching for any amount of control.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t hold back. Not for my benefit. We’ve got all night.”

  She wanted the unbridled passion that she could feel simmering beneath his skin. She didn’t want controlled or careful. She stared into the fire raging in his eyes and wondered if she could handle what she’d just unleashed.

  He let her slide down his body. “As much as I like that sexy belt of yours, beauty, it’s time you got naked.”

  Ashleigh couldn’t have agreed more. She stripped, kicking her shoes across the hall and dropping her clothes in an unceremo
nious pile. She was about to push her jeans down and was intending to take her thong down with them, her thumbs hooked into the waistband, when Paul grabbed her wrists.

  “Leave the underwear.”

  She smiled, happy to comply. There wasn’t much to leave; it was little more than ivory string with a little triangle of fancy at the front. Underwear like this was why she kept herself completely shaved. In contrast to her earlier, speedy pace, she slid her jeans over her hips slowly, taking her time to reveal the lingerie to him.

  She wasn’t disappointed by his reaction when she finally stood before him, naked apart from the scrap of underwear. He reared back, taking her in from top to toe. His gaze was so heavy it was almost a physical touch over her skin. Ashleigh felt the gooseflesh rise as his eyes passed over her.