GABRIEL’S BABY: Iron Kings MC

by Evelyn Glass

  “You okay?” His dark eyes glinted, a big hand sliding down to the small of her back. Tingles erupted up and down her legs. She jerked her head into a nod, sliding her arm through his. He led her toward a gravel path that wound through a dense cluster of trees. They strolled down the path, arm in arm, stones crunching underfoot. The heady scent of moss and the pending dusk invaded her nostrils. There was something so sweet about sharing moments like these with Butch. It hadn’t seemed possible.

  “I used to come here when I needed to get my head straight,” Butch said after a while.

  “So you came here a lot?” She looked up at him, smiling like maybe it was a joke, even though she meant it seriously.

  “Damn near every day,” he said.

  She rested her head against his arm, lacing her fingers through his as they strolled. “It’s so nice here.”

  “It is. I’ll show you my favorite spot.” They headed deeper into the preserve, weak shafts of sunlight breaking through the trees overhead. After a few turns, Butch led her to a small clearing. They stepped through the tall grasses, coming up to a wide, thick oak tree.

  “This is my tree.” He patted it, like saluting an old friend.

  “It’s a nice tree,” she conceded, looking it up and down.

  “Used to come here and…do everything.” He sent her a mysterious smile.

  “Oh? Like what?” She pinched his side.

  “Too many things to mention.” He tipped his head back, squinting up at the branches. “Good times at this tree.”

  “Maybe we can do one more thing at this tree.” She grinned, tugging at the lapels of his cut. “If you know what I mean.”

  Butch grinned, pulling her into him with a swoop of his arm. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Their lips connected roughly, something raw and hungry emerging there, like the open air and the settling dusk gave them greater liberties than normal. Gidget clutched at his face, nails digging into his jaw, wanting more of him, to be closer to him. Butch’s hands smoothed down the sides of her body, hooking behind her thighs, and then a moment later he popped her into the air. She giggled, straddling him, tossing her head back.

  “You like me on top,” she murmured, loving the sparkle in his eye as he carried her toward the tree.

  “I like you all ways,” he said, voice coming out a growl. He pushed her up against the trunk, the rough bark biting into her back.

  “Even against your favorite tree?”

  “Especially there,” he whispered into her ear, his belt buckle clanking a moment later.

  She nuzzled the hollow of his neck. “Dicks out already? I haven’t even taken my pants off.”

  “I’m getting there.” He suctioned his lips to her neck, leaving a moist trail down to the front of her chest. Then he pulled back, letting her slide to her feet. She stood on wobbly legs, smirking at his jeans crumpled around his ankles.

  “Never thought it would be so easy to get a big bad biker with his pants around his feet,” she taunted, slipping a finger under the waistband of his boxers. The tenting there was delicious-looking, could make her salivate just from imagining it when she was alone.

  “Something about the open air,” he said, reaching for her. “Come here, babe.” He jerked his head toward the base of the tree. “I want you on all fours.”

  She looked at the mossy ground, took note of the forming dew. “Not in these pants.”

  Something dark crossed Butch’s face, like this was a challenge. “We’ll take them off first.”

  “You want me to get butt-ass naked in this state park?” She laughed at the absurdity of it.

  “Next time wear a skirt.” He slid his hands around her waist, made her feel like a tiny doll in his grip. Shivers ran up her spine and she let her head fall to the side. Okay, so she’d do what he wanted.

  When his hands moved to the button of her white pants, she didn’t stop him. He pushed her pants down over her hips, and using his shoulders to steady herself, she stepped out of them cleanly. He made a big display of tossing them over a low-hanging branch.

  “Perfectly safe and clean,” he said, bringing her up against him, forming a seal with their bodies. She rubbed her ass against his groin, groaning as the thick ridge of his cock met the pulsing of her pussy. Before she knew it she was on all-fours on the mossy grass, Butch letting a low, appreciative moan as he palmed her bare ass cheek.

  “I had no idea you put these on,” he murmured, thumbing the thong of her panties.

  “Just for you,” she purred.

  He pushed the scrap of fabric aside. A second later his warm cockhead pressed against her pussy, making her gasp.

  “There it is,” he said, his voice jerky. He dragged his cock up and down her slick folds. Her pussy throbbed, desperate for the penetration. Her entire body buzzed with anticipation.

  “Give it to me.” She dug her nails into the dirt. Totally unlike her, but this was new territory. She’d take a bath later. “Please, Butch. I need it.”

  “Yeah?” He let a throaty laugh. His cock nudged her clit, sending a jolt through her. “How bad?”

  “The fucking worst.” She wiggled her ass against him, like this might convince him to take the plunge. He palmed an ass cheek again, then cracked his hand against it. The curt slap rang through the humid dusk.

  “I’ll give it to ya.” His hands traveled the length of her thighs, then he gripped her by the hips, leveling her. He pushed his cock inside her slowly, the same respectable pace as always since he was a big boy. She tensed, whimpering as he eased in, her knees sinking in the damp earth as she braced herself against him. He groaned low, driving into her steadily. Her pussy stretched and received him; with so much practice over the past few weeks, she’d become an expert at adapting to him. To taking every last inch of him.

  She arched her back, wiggling her hips to find the last few inches of space as he sunk deeper. The heat churning insider her threatened to push her over the edge. Maybe it was the nature aspect to this trip—or maybe Butch was just her soul mate, the inexplicable match her body and being that couldn’t be described.

  The thought shuddered through her, but she was distracted by his slow pumping, in and out, strong yet sweet, his hands gripping the narrow part of her waist. She let out a small noise as he fucked her, the size and heat of him starting the electric churn in her core.

  “Jesus, Gidget.” His voice was raspy. He was close—she could tell just from his tone.

  “Come on,” she said, bucking up against him. The pleasure roiled through her, sinfully sweet. Her vision went gray with each thrust. “I’m close. Fuck me, Butch!”

  He grunted, the damp slap of their skin steady rhythm as he drove into her, over and over again, sending her spiraling over the edge. She swallowed a squeal, pushing her ass back against him as the heat spilled over into a flood. Her pussy quaked as she came, the space behind her eyelids turning black and then blinding white.

  Butch stilled against her, his breath coming out in jagged pants as he finished inside her. They stayed like that for a few moments; Gidget didn’t want to break the sweet reverie of the orgasmic bliss, the cadence of the crickets around them, the fragrant, mossy bubble around them that preserved this moment forever.

  A few moments later, Butch kissed the small of her back and slipped himself out of her.

  “That,” he said, “was the best damn time I’ve had at this tree.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Butch bounced his leg as he waited for Gidget to finish showering. Outside, rain drove hard against the pavement. Day 30. They’d been in Shreveport, in this fucking motel, for a full month.

  And the last Butch had heard from Geo was almost two weeks ago.

  He ran his thumb over his knuckles. It didn’t make sense that today of all days it would start bothering him. He’d trusted—maybe too blindly for his liking—that the club knew what was up. They’d be kept in the loop. They had to be, with Gidget here. No way they’d let Butch wander off a
nd nobody would follow up. Something was in the works—it was just taking time.

  That’s all he could keep telling himself.

  Gidget seemed to waver between listless and enthralled. Shreveport was a fantasy world—for both of them. But sometimes the truth set in, and hard. They had no idea how long they’d be here. Maybe it was a fool’s hope to think shit would settle back in Sturgis in a few weeks, or even a few months. Maybe this was a long-haul thing. Hell, Butch didn’t know how this shit worked, and neither did Gidget. Even though she was born and bred in the club, this was a first-time thing for both of them.

  The water snapped off, making Butch straighten his back. The rain made him jumpy. Probably because they were locked inside the motel until further notice. No way he’d take his bike out in this shit. It would be bad movies and ordering in until it eased up. Not that Gidget would mind.

  Butch gnawed at the inside of his lip. Thirty days with this woman in this motel and hell if he wanted it to end. It was the damndest thing. Even though he was desperate for news, and eager to find the once-and-for-all solution to this Skulls drama, he wouldn’t mind if this situation with Gidget continued after the fact. Some sort of place to call their own…a little apartment…definitely needed to be bigger than this motel room, that was for sure…

  The door opened and steam poured out. Gidget strutted into the hotel room, looking satisfied.

  “Good shower?” A smile broke across his face, as it always did when he spotted her. It was a kneejerk reaction, one of those things he couldn’t control, like the beating of his heart.

  “The best.”

  “You ready for another movie and pizza night?” He jerked his head toward the window. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there.”

  “That’s such a silly saying,” she said, squeezing moisture out of her hair. “Where does it come from?”

  Butch shrugged, looking back toward the window. “The fact that there are cats falling from the goddamn sky right now.”

  She snickered. “You know, you talk more now.”

  “What?”

  “You talk more.” She grinned at him through the mirror, sly like she knew a secret. “Back when we first met, it was like pulling teeth to get you to say more than two words at a time.”

  “I said more than two words at a time,” he countered.

  “Not usually.” She tutted. “But look at you now. Talking to me like you like me.”

  He shook his head, turning away to hide his grin. “Of course I like you.” His chest tightened. There was something else on his tongue too, but that wouldn’t come out. Not now, not ever. It didn’t come out of him for no one.

  “Just saying. It’s amazing what a little quarantine can do.” Gidget wrapped her towel around her chest, then rummaged for something in her toiletry bag. “Sometimes it feels like we’re married.”

  His gaze fell to the carpet as he repeated her words in his head, over and over again. They hung bulky and strange there. “Is that a good thing?”

  “You tell me.”

  He looked up and saw her wink at him through the mirror. “You might not be so bad as an old lady. That what you wanna hear?”

  Her face fell a little bit as she squirted moisturizer onto her fingertips. “I think I’d be a damn fine old lady.”

  He huffed with a laugh. “Is that all you wanna be?”

  Her silence turned stony, making a pit form in his stomach. Maybe he’d overstepped there.

  “Of course not,” she said in a low voice. “Don’t you even know me by now?”

  He looked away. Fuck.

  “Maybe all this time together and you can’t get your head out of your ass long enough to even see who I am,” Gidget spat, rubbing furious circles into her cheeks.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “No, of course you didn’t mean that. Like you haven’t been watching me try to build my fucking business, or keep my only one meaningful job in my industry, or grow my followers or—”

  “Gidget.”

  “Fuck you.” Her neck was flushed. “You don’t take me seriously.”

  He let a terse sigh. This was not where he’d expected this to go. Not by a long shot.

  “And don’t sigh like that either,” she said, glaring at him through the mirror. “You probably think I’m just some irrational kid, don’t you?”

  He dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. “Gidget.”

  She huffed but kept quiet.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  She frowned as she searched for something in her toiletry bag, remaining silent.

  “I didn’t want to upset you,” Butch started. But he didn’t know what else to say. She’d blown up in a big way, a way he’d never seen from her before. He’d never seen her so insecure. Doubt was etched into her face as she brushed a powder over her cheeks.

  “Whatever,” she mumbled, sniffing.

  Butch let a long silence hang, unsure where to go from here. Maybe they really were a married couple now. Nonsensical spats spurred from nothing. Shit, she’d been laughing with him two minutes ago. Maybe it was her period.

  Gidget didn’t bring it up again as she worked on her face, applying some light makeup. Butch thought maybe it was too much if they were just gonna stay in, but after what just happened, he figured he’d keep his mouth shut.

  Almost a half hour went by where nobody said anything. Butch flipped on the television when the silence grew unbearable.

  A while later, Gidget slunk onto the bed beside him but kept her distance. He looked her up and down. He could tell she was eager to make amends but didn’t know where to start.

  He tossed an arm around her, dragging her closer. She pouted and resisted, but a smile broke through anyway. She snuggled up to him like a kitten.

  “All better?” he murmured into her hair.

  “Yeah, I guess.” She sighed a little.

  “You know it’s raining out,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “So why’d you spend all that time putting your face on?”

  She swatted at his chest. “I was mad. I needed to think.”

  He grinned. “And that’s how think?”

  “Yes. And don’t you make fun of me, or else that’ll start all over again.” She lifted her head to send him a stern look.

  “All right. All right. Trust me, you’re the queen around here.” He flipped through the channels, trying to find something rainy-day appropriate. Something that might make him feel a little bit less of a married man, too. Because although he sorta liked it, it was hard to even admit that he did.

  “That’s right,” she said, settling into place against his chest. “The queen.”

  “And I’m just the little guy you hire to keep you entertained,” he said, laughing a little. It made her head bounce up and down.

  “The jester,” she clarified. Then she looked up at him, resting her chin against his sternum. “No, you’re not the jester. You’re the king.”

  He tutted, heat scorching through him. Why was it sexy to talk about this shit with her? “Now you’re really making it sound like we’re married.”

  She sent him a mysterious smile and nestled back into place. Butch clicked through the channels, unable to erase his lingering grin.

  ***

  A few days later, the air had mostly cleared between him and Gidget. They’d done a few fun things, gone to a new restaurant, and she spent as much time as she could on her promotions. But in the back of his mind, he half-waited for another strange outburst. It was like the air before a thunderstorm—he could feel the barometric drop in the atmosphere around them. Something was up with Gidget. And what unnerved him was that he could sense it before she even opened her mouth that morning.

  She rolled out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. Butch lay tense in the bed, listening for abnormalities. Maybe the long-haul nature of shacking up in the motel was finally getting to her. Making her crack. Little did she know being stuck in this motel was
still the definition of paradise compared to being on the inside.

  She came out of the bathroom a few moments later. Water rushed from the sink. He rolled over to watch her in the mirror. She stared at herself, a strange scowl on her pretty lips.

  “Morning,” he said.

  She grunted, wiping off her hands on a towel. She clambered back into the bed, tugging the sheets over her head. Yeah, today was already off to a weird start. This chronic go-getter in the morning was opting for burying her head in the covers.

  “You feeling sick or something?” He sought out the curve of her waist under the sheets, bringing her hard against him. She relaxed a bit, burying her head in the crook of his arm.