I return a to the living room ten minutes later with scrambled eggs, toast and coffee for us. I set the breakfast plates, my strong cup of joe and a vanilla latte I’ve made specially for him on the coffee table, then curl up at one end of the sofa.
“You need to eat. The doctor said you lost a fair amount of blood. Get it while it’s hot,” I say, without even thinking about the unintended innuendo, and I smile.
Oh, how I would love some of his hotness.
Chapter Seven
Flynn
I look across at Jo, curled up at the far end of the sofa, and I think I get the message, loud and clear. Don’t come near me, stay away, biker boy! But it’s proving difficult to do with every passing second. And anyway, I saw the way she looked at me when she opened her eyes this morning, upside down, from where she was laying on the floor. I may be hurt, but I’m not blind. I feel such a connection with her and I’m hoping she feels the same way.
When she got up to make coffee earlier, I almost had a heart attack. That tiny sleeveless T-shirt she’s wearing doesn’t cover much at all. Underneath, a silver belly ring, and a tattoo of two intertwined snakes that run from her navel to the side of her waist, then disappear under the waistband of those skimpy shorts.
She’s so beautiful, funny and sexy, and I’d love to find out where that tattoo ends up. I join her on the sofa by the coffee table and laugh when I see what I assume to be a vanilla latte she’s made for me. She giggles when she sees the amused expression on my face.
“Very funny,” I say. “Did you run out of regular coffee cups?” She’s put it in the daintiest of bone china cups with a pink floral design and a gold rim around the edge, sitting on a matching saucer. What’s more, it’s piled high with voluminous, fluffy foam and chocolate sprinkles on top.
“I thought you’d appreciate it?” she says, still giggling. “Nothing wrong with a little refinement and finesse, even for a biker, you know.”
“I guess not, and I do appreciate it. Just never, and I mean ever, make one for me like this again in front of the guys or I’ll be laughed out of the club,” I say, with a chuckle. I take a sip. It tastes good, but too late, I feel the foam sticking to me like Santa’s mustache and she throws her head back, laughing out loud. The more time I spend with Jo, the more I want to be with her, and it just doesn’t feel like I only met her a few short days ago.
* * *
After we finish breakfast, she washes the dishes while we chat about what happened the night before. I can’t take my eyes off her, watching her hips wiggle in those tight shorts as she scrubs the pots and pans. When she’s done, she turns around and catches my gaze. I quickly avert my eyes, but it’s too late.
“Were you checking out my ass?” she asks, pointing her finger at me like a mom scolds a child.
“Um…no,” I reply, sheepishly, embarrassed at being caught red-handed.
“Yeah, right! Well, you don’t have time for that, mister man,” she snaps. “The doc said we need to keep you clean to avoid any infection. I’ll help you bathe, but don’t get any funny ideas, okay?”
“Uh, okay, thanks. Of course not,” I reply, but I know it’s a lie. How can I not get any ‘funny ideas’ when I know a beautiful woman is going to be sponging me down from head to foot. That will be the worst kind of torture I could imagine, not being able to grab her, kiss her and fuck her.
“Alrighty then,” she says, and helps me up from the couch. She takes my arm in hers and walks with me down the hall to the bathroom. “You really could do with a shave, you know,” she says when we get inside, running her fingers over my beard. “You look like a darn mountain man.” Her touch has chills running through me and my cock twitches in response.
“Gee, thanks. You don’t like my fur?” I ask, pretending my feelings are hurt.
“It’s okay,” she says. “I guess you’re not bad looking, but honestly, I think you’d look better without it.”
“Not bad looking, huh? Ouch!” I exclaim. “You really know how to pump up a man’s ego, don’tcha, Jo?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, giggling again. “I thought you were a tough guy. Maybe all those vanilla lattes are bringing out your sensitive, feminine side? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“What! I so wish I’d never ordered one of those fucking lattes, now. And FYI, I don’t have a feminine side.” It hurts like hell as I laugh at her teasing, but I shrug off the pain. She’s made me feel so much better already, and it’s a small price to pay to give in to her request. And anyway, anything I can do to make her like me more is worth it.
“Okay, the beard is history. Just for you.”
“Trust me, you won’t regret it,” she says with a sexy smile. “Now let’s get you into the shower and scrubbed.”
I turn around and unbuckle my belt, dropping my jeans to the floor. As I lean forward and step out of them, I see her looking at me in the wall mirror and I look over my shoulder, grinning. “Are you checking out my ass?”
She quickly looks away. “No! Why the hell would I want to look at that?” she says, defensively, her cheeks flushing red.
“Maybe for the same reason I checked out yours? The game’s up. I saw you in the mirror, Jo.”
“Okay, okay. You’ve checked out mine, I’ve checked out yours,” she says, all flustered, and it’s so cute to watch her. “Now, if we’re both done with checking ass, I’ve got things to do. Let’s get you clean then you can get the rest the doctor ordered. Are you keeping your shorts on? I promise I won’t look.”
Fuck! I hadn’t thought of that, and I don’t normally get nervous in situations like this. Heck, I’m normally out of my clothes in a flash if there’s pussy on offer. I know she’s not offering that, but suddenly, I’m feeling a little awkward, a little self-conscious. I don’t know why, but what the heck, I’m sure she’s seen a cock before.
“Ok, turn around, and wait till I’m in the shower. I don’t want to get you all horny,” I say, more from bravado than anything else.
She turns around, putting her hands over her face and laughs, and I take that as a good sign that she’s warming to me.
“Oh, you just keep on dreaming, biker boy. The last thing I want to see right now is your ugly bits flapping around.”
I laugh at her sharp wit, step into the full-length shower, and face the wall at the far end. I see Jo quickly open and close the fingers covering her eyes a couple of times to check she’s not going to be met with a full-frontal of me. When she’s satisfied she’s safe, she uncovers her face and picks a fresh razor and a can of shaving foam from her cabinet. She walks in the shower behind me then reaches around me and slides them onto the shelf in front of my chest.
“There. You get to shaving, and I’ll get to scrubbing. Go!” she commands, sliding the glass door shut, and turning on the faucet at the opposite end to where I’m standing.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, giving a salute with my right hand, then I squirt a big dollop of foam into my hand and spread it out all over my face. I unwrap the razor and as I make the first swipe through my wiry face fur, I feel a warm, soapy sponge on my back and shoulders, gently rubbing over my skin, then she moves her hand around to my chest and stomach, being careful not to get my bandage wet.
“I’ll do your arms when you’re finished shaving. God forbid I should jolt you and make you cut that ‘not bad-looking’ face of yours,” she says, giggling.
“Appreciate it,” I reply as I scrape the blade across the skin under my nose, and seconds later, my mustache is gone. I run my fingers over the smoothness and I’m pleasantly surprised by how good it feels before moving on to the rest of my face.
Jo moves on, too, scrubbing my feet and ankles, working her way up my legs, past my knees, up to my hips I’m trying my best not to get aroused, but it’s impossible, and I feel my cock pulse as I try to concentrate on shaving. It twitches, and I feel it growing bigger with every passing second. She sponges my ass, then her hand moves between my inner thighs and I part
my legs a little more to give her access, not sure if that was a wise move.
Holy fuck! I try to think of something…anything to take my mind off it, but nothing’s working. Now my cock is throbbing like the engine on my bike, sticking straight out in front of me, and I’m sure Jo’s going to notice any minute—if she hasn’t already. Never mind Jo nudging my arm, I’m going to slice my own face at this rate, so I quickly and carefully finish scraping off the remaining foam and face hair before I cut my face to ribbons.
“Okay, all done. Smooth as a baby,” I say, hoping she’ll stop and give me time for my erection to deflate before I turn around.
“Good, because it seems like you’re enjoying my sponge bath just a little too much. Here’s a clean face towel so you can wipe off the foam,” she says, matter-of-factly.
Oh god, she saw. Of course she did, and now it’s my turn to be embarrassed. Something that never happens to me. What the fuck is it with this woman that’s making me act this way?
“Um, yeah. Sorry, didn’t mean for that to happen, but it was the best sponge bath I’ve ever had,” I add. Sounds lame, I know, but I can’t think of anything else to say as I wipe my face over with the wet towel, hoping the ground will swallow me up, and soon.
“Oh, really? And just how many sponge baths have you had?”
“Just the one,” I reply with a nervous chuckle.
“Very funny. Now let’s get you decent before I do your arms. I want to see your face first.” She carefully wraps a bath towel around my waist from behind, tucking the end in tight to keep it in place. I’m just happy my erection has diminished to just a semi now.
“Ready for the new me?” I say.
I turn around and stand there for a few seconds. There’s a weird silence, and Jo looks pale, the blood seems to have drained from her face. Her mouth drops open, her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and she raises her hands to her cheeks as if she’s just seen a ghost. Jeez, surely I don’t look ‘that’ bad?
“You know, the boys are so not going to even recognize me,” I add, breaking the silence.
“No. Maybe not,” she says slowly, like she’s in a trance. “But I sure as hell do!” she screams. Her hands are trembling and tears stream down her cheeks. Then she steps backward and sits on the floor, sobbing, with the warm water cascading down on her, soaking her completely.
“What’s the matter, Jo?” I ask, totally confused.
She looks up at me. “John? John Harris? Oh my god! Oh my god! It is you! Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” she screams, staring up at me through the steam.
Holy shit, no! No, it can’t be. It just couldn’t be her. No one knows my real name. I haven’t used it in almost twenty years. I’m so fucking confused. It can’t be her, because…
“Jo? Josephine Meadows?” I ask, dumbfounded. She nods with her head in her hands, still crying on the floor. “No way. It’s not poss—”
“It is me, John,” she cuts in.
I step toward her and the towel slips over my hips and pools on the floor behind me, but I don’t care. When I reach her, I put a hand under her chin and gently tilt her face up to mine. We look intently into each other’s eyes and I wipe away the spray and her tears with my thumb. Without another word, I take her hands in mine and help her to her feet.
“Yes, it is you. Thank god! It is you, Jo.” I place my hands on her cheeks and look at her. “Now I see. Now I really see it’s you. Fuck, I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my life as I am right now.” I thought she looked familiar the day I met her in the diner. Now I know why. She’s changed since she was a kid, but all for the better. Gone are those cute little freckles she had on her face. Gone are the pigtails with the yellow bows, and as I gaze at her now, I know for sure it’s her.
I’m a strong man, but I’m so emotional right now, I feel I could cry. I can’t believe my reluctant journey to this city has brought me to the girl I was inseparable from when we were young, and memories of a dilapidated house with a group of shabbily dressed, dirty, starved children come flooding back. Among that group, the cruel matron of the foster home me and Jo had lived in, Mrs. Krueger. She’d made our life hell on earth, but at least we had each other. Until I left, that is.
I want to tell Jo everything’s going to be ok, but perhaps she needs some space, and some time to deal with her own feelings. It’s come as a total shock to both of us.
“What happened to that bitch from hell, Krueger,” I ask.
“What do you care?,” she snaps. “You didn’t stick around to find out. You ran away,” she says, and it makes me feel so guilty for leaving her. I pull her close to me and hug her tight, planting a kiss on her forehead.
“Yeah, I did, but only because—”
“You said you’d come back for me…but you never did,” she says, then rests her head on my shoulder. “I was heartbroken you abandoned me. I guess I still am.”
“I did. Honestly, Jo. But when I arrived at the foster home, Krueger told me she was sad to tell me that you’d died the month before from meningitis. I couldn’t believe it. I was devastated and heartbroken, too.”
She looks at me, shocked, and after a sharp intake of breath, says, “She did what? Oh my god! I hope that evil bitch burns in hell. I was still there. She just wanted to get her own back on you for daring to run away from her when she fed you that lie. That was so cruel.”
“Fuck! You could well be right. I was in mental torture with all the sadness I felt in my heart. I lived on the streets for a while after that, doing drugs, stealing, nothing good, and not even caring if I got killed doing it. I was a lost cause, it broke me up. That was when Jake took me under his wing and gave me a new life in the Bad Breed MC.
“Holy crap. She really fucked us up, didn’t she? Well, on my eighteenth birthday, I got out of there. Couldn’t take it anymore and came straight here the day I left the foster home. I’d met Dahlia in school and she’d told me about her father’s bar, so I headed straight for it. They took me into her home for six months before I could afford this place.”
“You’ve done good, Jo…unlike me. I envy you.”
“I looked for you, you know?” she adds. “Directories, social media, but I didn’t have enough money for a private investigator.”
“Wow, I’m really humbled you went to that trouble, but you probably wouldn’t have found me, anyway. I changed my name when I met Jake. I wanted no link to my past, so I dropped my real name and I’ve used Flynn ever since.”
She nods then looks me in the eyes. “Why did you come back here, John, or do you prefer Flynn? What do you want here?”
“Call me Flynn. John just reminds me of those dark days. Right now, seeing you again like this after I thought you were dead? I want you, Jo. I need you. More than I need to breathe. I’ve missed you so much.”
“Oh, god. All those wasted years.” She looks up at me, her eyes fixed on mine, and I lean in to kiss her soft, full lips, caressing her neck and back with my fingertips. She hesitates, then presses her warm mouth hard against mine, our tongues intertwining as she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me to her.
As we deepen the kiss, I slide my hand up and down her back. Her hard nipples strain against the wet, flimsy fabric of her T-shirt, and scrape against my skin. Her firm, heaving breasts rub against my chest, driving me crazy. I break the kiss, lift her T-shirt over her head, and draw one hard, pink nipple into my mouth. She arches against me, moaning softly with her hands clasped on the back of my head. I slide my hands over her hips and cup the cheeks of her ass with both hands, kneading her soft flesh as I suck her nipple harder.
Her moans are driving me wild as I suck on her breasts, the pleasure rippling through her body. I push her soaking wet shorts over her hips and she kicks them away, then I move a hand from her ass, around her hip and down over her tummy. I rub gently around her clit in circles. She thrusts against me as I slowly slide a finger into her wet, warm, inviting pussy. She gasps, throwing her head back as she gyrates her
hips against my hand. Her breaths are short, and she whimpers helplessly with the increasing pleasure.
“Come for me, Jo,” I whisper, then I suck her neck, and kiss along her jaw as my fingers slide in and out of her slick pussy, my thumb kneading and circling her clit.
“Oh, god. Yes, yes!” she cries, and as I crush my lips against hers as she comes hard against my hand, her pussy tightening around my fingers, slick with her juices. Her cries of pleasure are only muffled when she buries her face in the crook of my neck, heaving and gasping as her orgasm subsides.
Fuck. I want her so bad, it’s killing me.
Chapter Eight
Jo
‘I want you. I need you. More than I need to breathe.’
Flynn’s words roll around my brain and, instead of satisfying me, the powerful orgasm he just brought me to now fills me with an insatiable desire, and a burning hunger for him. I want to feel him inside me. Fucking me. Showing me he meant what he said.
I slide open the door and turn off the faucet. I’m more than wet enough already. I take his hand—still pressed against my pussy—bring it to my mouth and slowly suck the sticky fingers he’d used to bring me to my climax while we gaze into each other’s eyes. It tastes sweet. Without a word, he takes my hand and puts them in his own warm mouth and gently sucks them, his eyes half-hooded. Watching him feast on my pussy juice turns me on even more, then I feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh.
So.
Fucking.
Hot.
He picks me up like I weigh nothing and carries me to the bedroom, not even stopping to towel ourselves dry. He lays me on the bed then just sits on the edge and looks down at me, scanning me up and down. He gently toys with my belly ring.
“When did you get your belly piercing?” he asks in a low voice.
“It was a long time ago. I was with a bunch of friends, dead drunk, just being a regular teenager,” I say, trying to sit up. He gently, but firmly pushes me back onto the bed, his palm flat against my midriff. All I can do is lie there, my body exposed to his hungry gaze. It gives me goosebumps, but in a good way.
Bad Breed (MC Romance) Page 6
