Kid: Cerberus MC Book 2 (13 page)

“I need a mission or something,” I say looking out the open door of the garage.

I hear him chuckle. “Temptation is a bitch when you insist spending hours upon hours near it.”

I take another sip of my beer. “Don’t I fucking know it,” I grumble.

“Take a step back from her man. She’s only been here a few days. Can’t be that hard.” Shadow says still looking at his bike.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried? I feel addicted to her.” I sigh, clearly the man doesn’t understand. He loves women of all kinds, but to say he’s ever been addicted to one like I am to Khloe, hardly.

“That’ll change once you fuck her,” he says almost absently, as if he’s got more on his mind than talking about my obsession with a certain auburn-haired young woman.

I huff a laugh. “Maybe,” I agree.

I seriously doubt it though. Khloe seems like the girl who not only has gotten under my skin, but like she’s going to turn my world upside down. I should be terrified of the idea. Before she came along, I’d been working on a little sexual project of my own.

We go on missions all over the place. When I first joined the Cerberus MC, I came up with the off the wall plan to sleep with a woman in every single country we visit. For the most part, it has gone off without a hitch. One or two places we’ve had to leave quickly to follow leads that haven’t allowed it, but generally I’m able to check off every single country.

The thought of continuing the plan I’ve become famous for in the club feels a lot like it just did an hour ago in the hallway with Snapper. No desire. No excitement on what kind of woman I can find on our next outing. I feel like I need to leave, to get away from her for a while, but the same excitement and anticipation of fulfilling part of the plan isn’t there.

If I’m being one hundred percent honest with myself, I kind of love the torture I feel in my bones when I’m around her. If and when I touch her, taste her, and fill her, it will change me into a different man. Honestly, I can wait. I can hold off a couple of weeks because in the end I know she’s worth every single minute of torment I feel right now.

“You heard from Misty?”

Misty is a woman Shadow was seeing while we were in Denver a few months back, helping Kincaid’s cousin search for his abducted girlfriend. I know they met up again weeks ago when we went back up there for the wedding. He’s been off, more quiet than usual since we returned.

I hear a wrench clatter to the concrete floor causing me to raise my eyes to him.

He narrows his eyes at me, but not in a menacing way. His expression doesn’t say leave my business alone; it seems he wants to talk about it, but it’s out of character for him. Kincaid is usually his go to, but Kincaid has been busy as of late with Emmalyn.

I raise my eyebrows at him in an ‘I told you my shit, now spill’ expression.

He picks up the wrench and begins tinkering on the bike again. “She wants more.”

I nod. Most women do. Most women aren’t okay with having sex regularly with men and then getting nothing but orgasms in return. That’s why most of us guys don’t do the repeat thing. It has a lot to do with why, other than the girls at the clubhouse who know the score, I stick with women in different countries.

“I told her I wasn’t available for anything other than what we were doing. She was upset, but said she understood.”

They all say that, too. Unless they’re stage five clingers, they usually agree to the status quo or reject the guy altogether.

“We continued to text off and on, but the last couple of days she hasn’t responded to the texts.”

I smile. Big bad Shadow, MC Vice President, has been ghosted by a twenty-year-old teaching assistant in Denver.

“You’re hung up on her,” I state simply.

“You’re hung up on Khloe,” he counters.

My smile is from ear to fucking ear as he raises his eyes to mine.

“And I can admit it,” I say bringing to light the fact he didn’t respond directly about Misty. “Hell, I just turned down a blow job and night of sex with Snapper, because it didn’t feel right, and I haven’t even dipped my stick in Khloe. I can’t even imagine where you’re at with Misty, having sampled the goods.”

He chuckles softly.

“You like her,” I say. “Just man up and see where it goes.”

“I’m drawn to her,” he says. “I’m sure it’s best that she’s stopped responding to me. I don’t need a woman that fickle.”

“None of us do, man,” I tell him downing the last of my beer and tossing the empty bottle into the trash. “See you in the morning.”

I only agreed with him because it’s what he wants to hear. He’s older than me. He’s lived longer and experienced more, but even in my nonexistent relationship wisdom, I know that any woman can only take so much. They won’t hang around forever, especially when they’re being told, nothing more would come of it.

He’ll move on. Someone else will spark his interest. It always does.

I jump on my bike and head out. There’s no way I can go back inside and keep from making a left at her room rather than turning right to go to mine.

My stomach falls when I roll over in bed and find it empty. I knew I pushed too hard last night. I never should have tried to kiss him. He says he’s interested in me. He’s kissed me twice when I asked. Yet, he rejected me last night when I tried.

“You’re not eighteen.” His statement from last night rattles through my head. He didn’t explain himself. He didn’t offer to take things further once my birthday passes. I can make an assumption of his intentions, but that’s burned me in the past.

Hell, I did that last night when I fell asleep against his chest, but here I am in the light of day and he’s gone. The last time that happened… well, if I’m going on historical events, one of the club girls should be wearing his shirt in the kitchen this morning.

Telling myself to act like a grown woman rather than a child, I shower quickly and dress in the clothes Kid retrieved for me yesterday. I even slip my legs into one of the pairs of lacy underwear he had purchased for me, hoping that it will act as some sort of armor if I see one of the other girls wearing the
Minecraft
shirt he had on yesterday.

I let out a long, harsh breath and make my way to the kitchen. There are a handful of people still eating and chatting amongst themselves. Thankfully, Emmalyn and Kincaid are in the bunch. Emmalyn smiles brightly and gives me a little wave as I walk in. I dart my eyes around as inconspicuously as possible and feel relief wash over me when I don’t see the bright red shirt I knew was going to torture me this morning.

I grab a few things on a plate and sit down beside Emmalyn. Kincaid nods his head briefly then turns his attention to one of the other bikers sitting beside him.

“You settling in okay?” Emmalyn asks.

“Yes,” I say with an appreciative smile. “I’m very grateful for the hospitality.”

“If you need anything or someone to talk to, I’m here,” she offers. “It wasn’t so long ago that I was brought here. It’s a lot to get used to.”

I take a few more bites of food before speaking again. “I feel,” I pause trying to decide on the best word to use. “Useless. I’d like to do something to help out. I hate feeling like a freeloader. I turn eighteen next month. If I’m still here I can get a job and help with bills or something. But right now I just feel like a bum.”

Kincaid cuts his eyes to me. “The women here don’t have to work.” I swallow roughly at the tone of his voice. “If this is where you want to be, you stay as long as you like. But don’t for a second feel like you owe this club something, you don’t.”

I nod my head because arguing with the burly biker president is not an option.

Emmalyn nods at me and pats him on the arm in a calming fashion.

“I’d like to help out around here,” I whisper to her. “If anything to just stay busy.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I was heading into town in a bit to get things for the garden. You’re more than welcome to join me. Rose is out of town for a few days so the company would be nice.”

“I don’t know the first thing about gardening,” I confess.

She shrugs. “Neither do I, but I Googled it. How hard can it be?”

I hear Kincaid snort a quick laugh, but he doesn’t say anything to discourage us.

I finish my breakfast and gather my things at the table. “Let me change and I’ll be right back. You were planning to go now, right?”

She laughs at my enthusiasm to get out of here. “Yes.”

I don’t know much about gardening, but I do know it involves dirt. Since I dressed to impress in my favorite jeans, I had to change into something I didn’t mind getting stained.

Five minutes is all it takes to get changed into something more garden-friendly and pull my hair back. Emmalyn is waiting for me near the front door, along with Snatch, the extremely tattooed biker. My steps falter when I realize that they’re both waiting for me.

Noticing my dismay, Emmalyn takes a step forward. “I’m not a girly-girl, but Kincaid said that we’re going to need lots of bags of dirt and stuff. I don’t plan on lifting a bunch of heavy bags. Snatch is going to tag along and do the lifting for us.”

Snatch grins ear to ear like he’s beyond excited to be helpful.

We turn toward the door and Emmalyn loops her arm through mine. “Plus,” she whispers in my ear. “Kincaid doesn’t want us leaving the clubhouse without one of the guys, in case there’s trouble.”

Trouble? What kind of trouble could we possibly encounter buying dirt and flowers from a hardware store?

“Got it,” I say as we make our way to the SUV parked in the front of the house.

***

The trip to Lowe’s was… entertaining. Snatch, the scary biker, sang to every one of the Top 20 songs that played on the radio. I would’ve stereotyped him as either an old school rock n’ roll type or heavy metal, and I would’ve been wrong. Add in the behind-the-wheel dance moves and I can honestly say I’m no longer afraid to be in the same room with him anymore.

Kincaid was right about the heavy lifting. I’m just a hair over five feet-three inches, and there would’ve been no way I could lug all the bags of dirty fertilizer, and mulch. Snatch was very helpful in that aspect.

When Emmalyn mentioned working in the garden, I assumed for some reason that she was talking about fruits and vegetables. Instead of stopping in that area of the nursery, she went straight to the beautiful array of flowers on display.

“I thought you were going to grow okra and tomatoes,” I tell her as she makes her way around the various flats of flowers.

She huffs. “I watched a few videos, and there’s no way I’m that dedicated to that idea. Growing food takes a lot of work.”

Snatch trails behind us with a pull cart, waiting for her to point at the ones she wants.

“Any idea what kind you want?”

“I don’t have a clue,” she says. “They all look so… bush like.”

Snatch laughs. “We’re in the middle of the desert, Em.”

She frowns, but points to a few of the most colorful plants, and Snatch loads them on the cart. A few minutes in line at the checkout and we’re loaded up and heading back to the clubhouse.

“It’s so damn hot out here,” Emmalyn says an hour later as she wipes her brow with the back of her hand.

“Pretty warm,” I respond looking up at the New Mexico sun blaring down on us.

She decided the clubhouse needed some curb appeal, so we’re planting the flowers on either side of the steps leading to the front door.

I hear another motorcycle pull up, but this time, I don’t stop my work to see who it is. Bikers have been coming and going all day, but none of them have been Kid. I haven’t asked Emmalyn about him because I don’t want to seem overeager.

A shadow crosses over my back, causing me to stop digging in the dirt. I look and see Kid standing behind me. He’s smiling, but he looks absolutely exhausted. I roll my lips behind my teeth as I stand to greet him. I want to ask him where he’s been, what he’s been doing, but I know I have no right.

“It’s good to see you out of your room,” he says reaching up and stroking his finger across my cheek. I almost groan at the contact. Crazy how much I missed him today; it’s only been twelve or so hours since I saw him last. “Dirt,” he says pulling his hand away and showing me the smudge on his fingertips.

“I’m filthy,” I say looking down at my yoga pants and t-shirt that was light blue a few hours ago. It’s now covered in dirt and grime.

He cracks a mischievous grin.

“I’ll let you ladies get back to it,” he says turning toward Emmalyn and kissing her on the head as he passes.

I bristle. Not at the fact that he gave her a friendly peck on the head, but because he didn’t grace me with the same.

I work a little longer, but the urge to go inside and see him keeps me from focusing on the task at hand.

“I’m going to grab us some water,” I tell Emmalyn as I climb the stairs leading to the doorway.

“That’d be great,” she says with a knowing grin.

I know there are a few of the guys here, but I’m grateful none of them are in the main room as I make my way to the kitchen. I frown, finding this room empty as well. I grab two cold bottles of water from the fridge and hold one to the back of my neck.