by Bijou Hunter
“Why would she think that?”
“I don’t know. I was upset, and she assumed it was because of her.”
“She isn’t accustomed to people being sweet to her. Also, she was in all those foster homes. I bet she doesn’t expect anything to last.”
“How do I make her understand I’m not temporary?”
“If you love her, you’ll need to be patient.”
“I do love her, but that’s it? Patience? I’m really looking for a button I can press to make her feel safe.”
Mom laughs despite me being slightly serious. I figure women have secret ways to soothe themselves. I just need to figure out Stella’s.
“Every time you keep a promise, she’ll trust you more. Every morning you wake up together and then every night you’re at her side, she’ll learn to trust you won’t leave her. Every time she has a bad day or gets upset, and you help her find her smile, she’ll accept how you love the real her, warts and all.”
Mom’s words calm me even if she says what I already knew. I did hope she might provide a magic fix, but that was mostly me wanting Stella to be as happy as I am. Of course, my parents are a big reason why I’m a confident guy. She’s only known them for a week. Being part of the Johansson family for a few years will do wonders for her fragile ego.
“Was Pop patient with you?” I ask, knowing the answer but wanting to get my parents back into their romantic state of mind.
“He was a saint. He still is.”
Hearing the horny in Mom’s voice, I’ve un-cock-blocked Pop. He can thank me later.
Once I hang up, I head upstairs to where Stella sits on the bed. Her expression makes my chest hurt. How can someone so beautiful be so miserable?
Noticing me, her face completely flips from brokenhearted to joyful. Talk about an ego boost.
“Don’t move,” I order, pointing at her. “I need a very quick shower, and then we’ll get reacquainted.”
Her eyes shine with approval, and I nearly jump her. Then I get a whiff of my sweaty body. While my lady will no doubt put up with my man stank, she deserves a clean naked beefcake rubbing on her.
I hurry into the tiny shower and soap up all the foulest spots. The earlier shit with Rod lingers in the back of my mind. I want him dead. A man with power like me should be able to kill a threat to his family. Quaid killed the asshole who hurt his woman. Dash didn’t have the balls to kill his pop, but he did take a blade to the back to protect mine.
Now my woman’s under threat. Sure, Rod will likely behave now that he knows Stella belongs to me. He’ll pretend it was all a misunderstanding, but behind my back, he’ll start shit. Maybe turn the second-tier old ladies against her. Even if he doesn’t do a fucking thing, he still hurt Rae, got busted for it, and then doubled down by putting his filthy hands on Stella. And having a child nearby didn’t stop him either time.
He needs to die. Deep down inside, he knows I’m coming for him too. The only question is when and how quickly he gets to die.
Returning to the bedroom dripping wet, I find Stella standing on the bed. She swings her narrow hips and belts out a few lines of “Do You Believe in Love?” There’s no denying she can’t carry a tune, but she’s memorized all the words to one of my favorite songs. I can’t imagine how many times she listened to it before feeling comfortable enough to serenade me.
Of course, with her buck naked, Stella could get every word wrong, and I’d still be sporting a happy boner.
“You make me feel like no one else ever has,” I say, having worked on a few heartfelt sentiments in the shower.
Stella’s delicious lips curl upward, and she opens her arms. I’m in them within seconds, breathing easy for the first time all day. The woman has a pheromone tailor-made for me. It’s the only explanation I can come up with on why she makes me crazy like so many chicks never could.
“Do you love me?” I ask as we topple onto the bed and her legs wrap around my hips.
Stella glances between us to where my dick searches in vain for its love. When her gaze returns to my face, she looks ready to laugh.
“Do you?” I ask, and she blinks as if she missed the original question. “Love me?”
“More than I love anything or anyone in the entire world.”
“Enough to put up with my hair growing in?” I ask, stroking her wet slit with the head of my cock.
“What?”
Grinning at her dazed expression, I realize carrying on a conversation while also making her toes curl is probably a mistake.
“I love you,” I say and sink my dick into her very appreciative pussy.
Cupping my face, she stares at me with the most intense expression. “I love you so much that my heart feels like it might burst.”
“That’s the shit I was looking for.”
My lips consume hers. I need to own every inch of Stella. My life is safe, and I am powerful, indestructible, fearless. If she’s part of me, she can’t be hurt. As our bodies move as one, I imagine a future where her only tears are those of joy and her only cries for more of my sexy loving.
THE UNWANTED
Colt’s body is a temple I worship. I can barely think when he’s naked. I’m in a state of “duh” even when he’s just shirtless. I wonder if I’ll be smarter when winter arrives and he’s bundled up. Or was I always this dumb and I just enjoy the feeling more now that I can blame Colt’s tanned, muscular body?
I understand why he makes me so happy, but I’ll never understand what he sees in me. No way would I date a chick like me. Especially when there’s a whole college full of beautiful, smart, wealthy alternatives. I don’t even have a hobby.
“You like movies,” Colt says while I warm up leftover chili.
“That’s not a hobby.”
“Sure, it is. I grew up with the chick who was obsessed with movies and went all the time.”
“But I don’t go all the time,” I say, thinking of how seeing a movie with Colt was the first time I’d been to the theater in years.
“Because you were poor. If she were poor, she wouldn’t have gone all the time either, but that wouldn’t change how she loved movies.”
Stirring the pot of leftovers, I shrug. “I guess.”
“You see the world in a fucked-up way because of your upbringing, but let me share some wisdom that comes from growing up normal.”
“Normal,” I snort.
“So I like bowling even if I’m a less than perfect bowler,” he says, walking over to me and sliding his hands down my arms. “You feel cold.”
“It’s the air-conditioning.”
“Want me to turn it down?”
“Hell no,” I say, tilting my head back, so his lips can lock onto mine.
Colt wraps his arms around my chilled body. His kiss feels as if he hasn’t seen me in forever. I shudder at how much affection he effortlessly offers.
“How come I have to wear clothes, but you get to strut around naked?” I ask once we’re at the table eating.
Frowning now, Colt shakes his head. “People show up at this house at all hours. I don’t want anyone seeing your sweet bits.”
“I don’t want them seeing yours either.”
“Ooh, possessive,” he murmurs. “I like how you growled at the end.” Narrowing my gaze, I try very hard to pull off an intimidating expression, but Colt only laughs. “I don’t think you could be unsexy even if you tried.”
“Wait until you see me in the winter,” I say and then sigh. “I mean, thank you.”
“Yeah, don’t be a negative Nelly. Or a down-in-the-dumps Debbie.”
“Who the hell are those bitches?” I demand, pounding on the table. “Former whore girlfriends?”
Colt refuses to pretend I’m scary. Instead, he laughs so hard I pat his back to keep him from choking.
“I’ve never been any good at acting tough. Even Kori runs roughshod over me.”
“You did a fine job fucking up Asshole’s bike.”
“Yeah. I beat it something badas
s. Or whatever.”
Snorting, he leans over and kisses me. “I’m gonna praise you all day and night until you get the hang of praising yourself.”
“What if I become unbearable?”
“Then we’ll be even.”
Giggling, I pat his bald head. “I’d love to be like you.”
“Man, oh, man, we’d need a huge house to fit our giant fucking egos.”
“You mean bigger than this one?” I say, feeling as if this place is home.
“I know you like this house, but it’s got bad vibes. Our home will be rainbows and unicorn farts. Just you wait.”
“I only want to stay with you.”
Colt gives me a soft smile. “We don’t need a huge place like my parents. Our kids can sleep in bunk beds or double up. I only ask the place has high ceilings.”
“You have modest dreams.”
“I really do,” he says and takes a bite of chili. “Do you have any particular style of house you like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Lily is obsessed with those creepy horror movie houses named after a chick,” Colt says, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. “MJ wanted her tent house named after yogurt.”
“Yogurt?” I mumble, trying to remember what Jodi called it.
“So, I wondered if you had your heart set on a special style of house.”
“I wouldn’t care if it was an apartment or a trailer as long as I was with you.”
“You really wouldn’t care, would you?” he says, smiling in the sweetest way.
“No.”
“I’m gonna work hard as hell to make you happy. Even though you don’t need much, I won’t half-ass our lives together, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll work hard as hell too.”
“And if you don’t want kids, I won’t whine too much about missing out.”
Stopping mid-bite, I ask, “Why wouldn’t I want kids?”
“I’m just saying you’re enough.”
No words leave my open mouth. I want to say something beautiful. Why can’t I think of anything?
Colt must sense my frustration because he reaches out and cups my face. “Your stunned silence is all I need.”
I burst into inappropriate laughter. “You’re being too nice now.”
“No, baby, there’s no too nice when it comes to you. Don’t expect so little from anyone, even your sexy man.”
“You are sexy,” I say, wearing a dumb smile. “And sweet and you can stop kissing my ass.”
“What about your lips? Can I kiss them?” Nodding wildly, I lean over to enjoy the feel of his full lips and the spicy flavor of the chili. When he pulls away, he asks, “Later, can I kiss your pussy?”
I’m no virgin, but my mouth pops open at his question, and I feel my face flush bright red. Probably from all the blood rushing to the spot between my legs. Colt knows he’s gotten me flustered to the point of ending my half of the conversation. I can do no more than stare at him while eating.
“Don’t underestimate your power over me,” he says after we finish eating and he has me wrapped in his arms. “Everyone special to me found their love, and I was alone. I didn’t cry about it, sure, but I worried that I’d never get what they all got. Then I met you. That’s why I’m ready to hit one hundred miles per fucking hour on our lives together.”
“Your words are so perfect,” I say as my chest burns with both love and the fear of losing him. “But I can’t understand why me and not someone... better?”
“Let me ask you what you love about me. Is it just my guns and amazing smile?”
“You’re kind,” I say immediately. It’s always the first thing I think of when I imagine Colt. “You care about people when you don’t really have to like with Rae and Kori. And you’re funny.”
“Well, there you go. Ask the same question of any girl I’ve ever dated, and she’ll never answer kind or funny. She’ll say I’m hot or rich or a bad boy. They only ever noticed the surface shit, and I wasn’t any different with them. They never noticed the stuff you love. That’s why you’re the one for me, and none of them kept my interest. When you click with the right person, you see what others can’t. I mean, shit, no one except my mom thinks of me as kind, but that’s the first thing you said.”
The fear in my chest fades, leaving me smiling. I never really thought I’d accept why Colt wanted me over other girls, but they were obviously fucking blind to his many charms. I don’t understand how they could miss what I see so clearly.
Those other women no longer seem better, and I don’t feel as if Colt’s slumming with me. For the first time, I really get why he loves me, and why I’m the one meant to love him back.
THE CHAPTER WHERE THE KING AND HEIR COME TO AN UNDERSTANDING
THE HEIR
Pop’s office is located in downtown Ellsberg where he can get a regular supply of sub sandwiches and gossip from his receptionist, Lorna.
Dropping by around lunch, I hope he’ll offer to feed me after our chat. Lorna immediately informs me that he’s in a meeting, but she always claims that shit.
“But I need to speak to him now!” I holler dramatically, and she applauds.
“Very impressive,” says the middle-aged hussy. “Now throw yourself on the ground and hold your breath until I say ‘uncle.’”
“That’s not how that works, lady!”
“If you beg, I’ll call back to him, boy!”
“Tell him I’m here, or I’ll tell my mommy you were mean to me!”
“Would you two shut the fuck up?” Pop yells from the back.
Finishing our routine, Lorna and I laugh. We’ve been pulling this shit since she got on the wrong side of MJ and Audrey back when we were teenagers. My sisters started losing their hormonal minds, and I distracted them with high drama. Pop was grateful that day, but he looks less so today.
“Are you constipated?” I ask after shutting the door and sitting in the chair across the desk from him.
“Shut up.”
“So yes.”
Pop laughs. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Much like your constipation, huh?”
“Did you come here to talk about my shitting schedule?”
Leaning back in the chair, I glance around the room. “Can I talk to you as son and father rather than club president and mindless, muscular sheep?”
“Talk away.”
“I don’t know what to do about Rod,” I say and sit straight. “I plan to kill him. That’s not the issue, but how do I kill him without pissing off my president who’s a bit of a hard-ass.”
“I’ve heard he is,” Pop says, fighting between grinning and glaring. “Is killing Rod worth the fallout from the club?”
“He’s gotta die. Fallout be damned.”
“For Rae?”
“For Stella and Kori too. And all the other women he’s hurt and will hurt.”
“Is there something the club can do short of killing him that’ll satisfy your blood lust?”
“Kicking his ass didn’t teach him shit. He immediately went over to the motel and threatened Stella. Slammed her against the wall too,” I say and grit my teeth. “He put his hands on my woman and left her in pain. No way I can let him keep breathing after that.”
Pop’s expression never shifts. I know he’s pissed, though, because he’s my father, and I’ve seen him pull this stony-faced move before.
“Why am I just hearing about this now?” he asks.
“Are you asking as my pop or my president?”
“Both.”
“I just learned of it yesterday.”
“Why is that?”
“Stella didn’t trust me when shit went down, and she didn’t want to cause trouble once she did trust me. No one in her life ever sticks around, and she assumed if she made a stink that I’d bail too.”
“So how did you find out?”
“Kori told me. She’s scared he’s going to kill her and her mom. Stella too. Rod made threats about wh
at he’d do to them when I wasn’t around. So, you can see how kicking his ass won’t fix the problem.”
Pop’s jaw twitches when I mention Kori. He’s got a soft spot for tiny women. He married one, and his favorite daughter is itty-bitty. If anyone messed with either of them, he’d burn down the world to get revenge. Now he’s ready to kill Rod, but complications remain. Which is exactly why we’re having this conversation.
“His father is well liked in the club,” Pop says.
“That’s not my problem, but I think my president will care.”
“That he will,” he mutters, giving me an eye roll. “Killing Rod is more complicated than killing Gary Lee. You see that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but we killed him anyway.”
Pop studies me, struggling with something. “I need this conversation to stay between us.”
“Of course.”
“You say that, but you have a big mouth. I know you gossip to River and your cousins.”
“Never.”
“Gunnar ratted you out to Judd who told me that you talk shit about the guys.”
Laughing, I shrug. “Oh, well, yeah, I do that, but I don’t share our conversations with anyone.”
“Good to know, Son.”
“Glad to tell you, Father.”
Sighing, Pop gets that look on his face—the “I should have been tougher on you growing up” expression.
“Judd’s been itching to do something since Eagle Eye defended Rod.”
“Seems about right after what happened with Aunt Tawny.”
“Do you think he cares more about that shit than I do?” Pop growls. “It happened to your mom too.”
“Calm your tits, Pop. I know you and Judd are both badasses who’ll kill anyone who looks wrong at you. The difference is his only real job is spilling blood while you’re the leader and a businessman and have to care about boring shit too.”
“Why don’t you become an enforcer if you think his job is better?” he asks, making me think I’ve hurt his papa feelings.
“I don’t have a taste for hurting people,” I say and shrug. “Sure, it’s fun to beat on assholes, but I know not everyone an enforcer kills is, well, enjoyable to kill.”
