Kid: Cerberus MC Book 2 (29 page)

The last thing I thought would happen after our evening and day together was waking up in bed alone. A cold feeling settles in my bones until I hear the shower running in the en-suite. I take a few minutes to allow my pulse to return to normal before climbing out of bed and walking toward the bathroom.

I open the door slowly and as quietly as I can, hoping to steal a few moments of voyeurism before she notices me in the room with her. My mind couldn’t even picture the amazing sight of her covered in frothy bubbles, hands roaming over her body as she bathed.

I step in further, my movements catching her eye. She yelps in surprise and covers her breasts with her hands instinctively.

“Don’t cover that beautiful body, Sweet Girl. Don’t hide yourself from me,” I plead stepping out of my boxers.

My cock springs free, still hard from waking up in anticipation of her body against mine. I stroke it mindlessly as I open the glass door and join her under the warm stream of water.

She reaches for me immediately, running her hands over my chest. Her fingers trace the tattoo on my pectoral and over my shoulder.

I kiss her as her hands memorize the contours of my chest and arms. Tongues tangling, she steps closer until the head of my cock presses against her belly.

“Good morning,” I breathe against her lips.

“Morning,” she returns her hands making their way to my face.

“You look so young,” she says commenting on the stubble covering my cheeks.

I had a full beard when I woke up in the hospital. It confused me since I’d never kept a beard since discharging from the Marines. They were pretty much a part of the uniform for the years I spent in the Middle East, but I shaved it the second I got out. After regaining my memories, I recalled why I had grown it back. It was done in an effort to look older, hoping to gain more responsibility, not only at the club but also on the missions. I take my job very seriously and didn’t want to appear incompetent just because I looked like a teenager.

“Did you like the beard more?” I ask letting my fingers glide over her dusky nipples.

“You’re gorgeous either way,” she says reverently on a slight moan when I roll her tightened bud between my fingers.

“You, Sweet Girl are the gorgeous one,” I say before taking her mouth in another kiss.

I hiss against her lips when her small hand wraps around my cock. My hips jolt at the sensation.

“God, that feels good,” I gasp as she begins to stroke me from root to tip, circling her thumb over the head on the upward stroke.

I angle my head back so I can watch her hand work up and down my length. Unable to help myself, I begin to move my hips back and forth, increasing the depth of her caress.

Needing her mouth on mine, I close the distance I created between our bodies and take her mouth in a fevered kiss. I cup her nape and hold her against me as her hand increases speed and pressure on my body.

“Fuck,” I cry out pulling my mouth from hers as I pulse and come on her stomach.

She whimpers seductively and continues to stroke me softly as I rest my head on her shoulder.

“I love you,” she declares quietly in my ear.

I wrap my arms around her and hold her against me, my tears of absolute joy mixing with the water flowing over our bodies.

***

“Explain this would you?” Khloe says holding up the tiny bikini between her thumb and forefinger.

I smile at the confused look on her face. “I texted Em last night and told her I thought that the Jacuzzi tub would be perfect for today, but that you didn’t have a suit. She texted me a few minutes ago and told me to look on the porch.”

“Very smooth,” she says pulling the tags from the scraps of turquoise fabric.

Still naked from the shower, I watch in lustful fascination as she ties the string around her neck, situating the teeny triangles over her breasts.

She turns her back to me and holds the lower strings out by her sides. “Tie me up?” she asks looking over her shoulder.

I walk up to her, lining my front against her back. “I’d love to tie you up,” I growl in her ear ignoring the strings and cupping a breast in my hand. My other hand wanders down her stomach and past the small patch of hair. I part her lips with my fingers and circle her clit slowly.

She moans softly and leans more of her weight against me. I pull my hands from her body and begin to tie the strings around her back.

“You are such a tease,” she complains. Turning to face me after I finish with the tying, she frowns up at me. “Are you ever going to fuck me?”

I smirk down at her. “Such language, Sweet Girl!”

“I’m serious,” she says crossing her arms in front of her body. Her breasts are shoved up by the action, so I take the opportunity to lean over and trace around one of the triangles with my tongue. “You’re torturing me,” she complains shifting her body to line my tongue up with her nipple. I gently bite it through the fabric.

“Do you also need help with this?” I ask holding up the bottom part of the bikini.

“Not if you take the top part off.”

I smile at her insistence. If she only knew how much this was torturing me as well.

I crouch to the floor and slide the fabric between her legs. “Hold it here,” I tell her, situating her hand over the small strip of fabric that’s hiding her luscious lower lips. For good measure, I run my finger down the front through the notch of her slit.

I nip both of her hips while tying the side strings of the swimsuit, loving the smell of her arousal as I seduce her into a frenzy. She wants my mouth on her; I can tell by the way she continues to move her hips closer to my mouth. I deny her, knowing the buildup is integral to the final act.

I run my hands up her inner thighs and over her stomach as I stand to my full height. She narrows her eyes at me, growling in frustration.

“Is this some sort of game to you?” she asks quietly.

“Not at all, Khloe.” I kiss her lips. “But I’m not making love to you until we’re home in our own bed. I don’t want the memories of our first time to be in some other man’s home.”

“Let me get dressed then,” she says stepping away from me and reaching for her shorts and t-shirt.

“Later,” I say grabbing her hand and heading toward the Jacuzzi tub that’s in the glassed-in back room on the house.

I take the first step into the warm bubbling water and guide her down the steps, sinking deep into the tub with her on my lap.

“Mmm,” she hums.

“Feels good doesn’t it?” She nods her head against my shoulder.

We spend most of the day just lazing around Dom’s house, feeding the ducks and taking dips in the Jacuzzi. We had lunch delivered just as we had dinner delivered last night. We’ve tortured each other with kisses and roaming hands, but it seems she’s accepted my explanation as to why things won’t go any further until we get back to the clubhouse.

The sun is low in the sky when we lock up Dom’s house and head back across town. My anxiousness grows incrementally as we near our destination. She loves me, says she’s ready for me. Claims she needs me to make love to her, for us to take that final step. She wants me that’s clear, but I know no matter how much she feels like she’s ready, I know her body isn’t.

She’s a virgin, and I know I’m going to hurt her the first time we make love. That knowledge makes me want to postpone sex as long as possible. I hurt her heart so recently, and I’m in no hurry to hurt her body.

I wish I could ride with her on the back of my bike, arms wrapped snuggly around my middle forever. I know I can no longer put her off. She’s demanding I make love to her. I want her just as much as she wants me, but it’s the initial pain I wish we could avoid altogether.

I sigh as we pull up to the red light at the crossroads. Left takes us home to the clubhouse, right takes us to the open road of New Mexico. I turn left because I know she wouldn’t want it any other way.

We’ve had the perfect day, mainly because we’ve been blissfully alone. Returning to the clubhouse is both bitter and full of excitement for me. I’m thrilled about how I hope my night will end, but at the same time, I’m terrified what will happen before we make it there.

We pull up outside and it seems like every motorcycle in the universe is parked up front; it’s an indication that every active member and probably even a few nonmembers are inside. When the bikers are around, so are the club girls, and I know Snapper won’t be very far away. If I could wish her out of existence, I would.

I climb off the back of the bike and wait for Kid to do the same. He wraps his arms around me and kisses me deeply. I melt into his arms.

“I love how you feel against my back,” he says between kisses.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

He smiles and trails his finger down my jawline to my chin.

“Thank you,” he whispers peering into my eyes.

“For what?” I ask softly.

“For forgiving me. For loving me. For making me whole.” He kisses me again. “Please don’t let anyone in that building take away our happiness. Forever yours,” he says, lightly touching the heart at my throat.

“And yours.” I hold my hand out for him to take and we walk up the front steps of the clubhouse and make our way inside.

Music is playing in the background, but not so loud that people have to scream over it to carry on conversations. Members and women are gathered in small groups all around, some are in the main living area lounging on the couch watching a fight on the TV, others are around what looks like an intense game of poker.

I let my eye roam the entire scene, smiling back at Emmalyn when she looks up from her perch on Kincaid’s lap. Next, they find the red hair of the woman who helped rip Kid and me apart. I try to steel my face to not give her the satisfaction of knowing that she affects me.

She looks at me, then Kid, then down at our clasped hands. She nods at me and gives me a quick smile. There is no malice in her features, only acceptance of the situation. A lightness hits my chest when I realize that my worries over Snapper may have just ended. We’ll never be friends, but I don’t think I have to worry about her trying to go after Kid or manipulate another situation again.

Kid walks us around and chats with a few members who aren’t familiar to me. He keeps my hand in his or has his arms wrapped around me the entire time. I finally feel like I’m his. The poker game breaks up, and we walk over to Em who is behind the bar mixing drinks.

“You guys good?” Emmalyn asks as she shakes something in a silver tumbler.

I look up at Kid the second he looks down at me. “We’re getting there,” I answer.

He smiles and kisses my forehead.

Kincaid steps behind Emmalyn and wraps his arms around her, leaning down and placing his chin on her shoulder.

“Something to drink, Khloe?” Kincaid asks with a smirk.

I hold my hands up in front of me and shake my head. “Never again,” I groan thinking about my bender from the other night.

He chuckles, and Em slaps him on the chest at his joke, clearly knowing what my answer would be.

“See you guys tomorrow,” Kid says tugging on my hand and pulling me toward the hallway.

Emmalyn gives me a knowing wink. My cheeks flush with embarrassment walking out of the room with Kid, knowing that everyone knows exactly what we’ll be doing in just a bit.

We walk down the hall and Kid tries to keep on going to his room. I pull my hand from his shaking my head.

“Never again,” I tell him. “I can’t go in there.”

I see the pained look in his eyes when he realizes why I don’t want to go back into his room. That place is no longer sacred.

He cups my face with his hand and kisses my lips gently. “I’m so sorry, Sweet Girl.”

I can feel the agony behind his words. He regrets hurting me. He regrets even considering taking me into that room where he was with
her
.

“Can I stay with you?” he asks softly.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” I whisper against his lips.

He opens the door to my room. “Give me just a few minutes; I have to get some things from my room, and then we can shower.”

He’s gone less than two minutes, coming back with a change of clothes and a few things for the shower. I smile timidly when I see him reach into his pocket and pull out a handful of condoms and put them on the bedside table. Tonight’s the night. It’s the culmination of what I’ve been begging for, for weeks. My hands begin to tremble, nervous excitement taking over.

“Let’s shower off the day, Sweet Girl,” he says grabbing my hand and walking us into the bathroom.

I strip out of my two-day-old clothes and watch entranced as he does the same. He’s covered in cut, chiseled muscles; the picture of perfect health and virility. It makes me self-conscious of my large breasts and soft stomach.

“No, no, no,” he says quickly when I try to cover myself with my arms. He holds my arms out to my sides putting my body on full display for him. “Get in here,” he commands ushering me in the shower.

We soap each other up, letting our hands and mouths roam freely, all inhibitions and waiting gone. I clutch his shoulder tightly when his fingers find my center. He begins with one finger and then two as he pushes in and out of me. My knees are weak and would buckle if he didn’t have his free arm around my back holding me to his chest.