Reaper's Legacy (8 page)

“Why can Uncle Ruger say them?”

“Because he’s not in school.”

“That’s not fair.”

Kid had a point.

“Life isn’t fair. Make your taco.”

I was digging through the fridge for the milk when I heard a light knock on the outside door.

“Uncle Ruger!” Noah called. “We’re eating tacos. Do you want some?”

“Sure,” he replied. I straightened and turned toward him, wondering if he was still upset with me. I couldn’t quite figure out how he’d been the one to teach Noah to say “fuck,” yet I’d gotten in trouble.

Of course, there were all sorts of things I’d never figured out about Ruger.

He came in and I handed him a plate warily, waving toward the food. He didn’t smile at me, but he didn’t scowl, either. I decided to take it as a positive sign.

“You made all this?” he asked.

“Nope, the girls from your club did,” I told him, figuring it was always good to make peace over food. And I definitely wanted peace with him, for both Noah’s sake and my own.

Maybe we could just forget today and start over tomorrow?

I decided I liked that idea a lot. I grabbed two more beers and handed him one, smiling hesitantly. “I found it all in the fridge. I still can’t believe they pulled everything together in one day. Thank you so much—I had no idea you were planning something like this. I’m blown away.”

He grunted, not bothering to look at me. Okay, guess we were back to him treating me like furniture.

Because I’m a perverse bitch, I didn’t like it. Stupid, right?

“You want to bring your food upstairs?” he asked us. “I’ve got a table on the deck. Hell of a view, and we’ll be able to watch the sunset.”

“Thanks,” I said, surprised. Guess he wanted to make peace, too. Thank God for that—neither of us had anything to gain from a cold war. And this really was nicer than any place Noah and I had ever lived. I liked the idea of having access to the deck … so long as Ruger didn’t turn on me again. Would I ever get to the point where being around him wasn’t hard to handle?

Yes, I told myself. I’d force myself to do it. For Noah’s sake.

Dinner went better than expected. Noah talked the whole time, which smoothed the way for me and Ruger. I finished my food and then went and grabbed us some more beer, refilling Noah’s glass of milk while I was at it. Eventually Noah got bored and headed down the stairs on the side of the deck to run around. By then I’d had enough alcohol to feel slightly less awkward, and Ruger seemed to be in a good place, too. I dragged my chair away from the table to the deck rail, propping my feet up against the railing. He went back into the house and started some music, a mix of old and new stuff.

We each drank another beer as the sun grew low in the sky. I went from feeling good to feeling fucking fantastic all around.

Noah needed bed, so I took him down and gave him a quick shower. Poor kid was dead on his feet, falling asleep before I finished his story. I decided to go back upstairs and sit on the deck awhile longer. I liked a little time away from Noah every day, which had been hard to get in our last couple of apartments. This was different, though. Noah could be safe while I had space.

“Hey,” I called as I climbed back up to the deck. “You mind if I sit up here for a while longer?”

“What it’s for,” Ruger said. He stood at the railing, leaning forward on his elbows and looking out across his kingdom. He must’ve gone in and taken a shower while I was putting Noah to bed, because his hair was damp. He’d changed into a pair of worn flannel lounge pants that hung low enough to expose his hipbones.

Maybe I was projecting one of my dirtier fantasies, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t wearing anything under those pants, either.

They certainly gave me a nice, defined view of his ass.

The look worked for him in a big way. Ruger was all lean and muscular, with a six-pack that tapered down nicely and biceps that were a work of art. Oh, wow. One of his nipples was pierced, too. I’d never seen that before. His pecs were broad and hard, large enough to be hot without venturing into man-boob territory. And his tattoos …

I’d always wondered about his tattoos.

His back was all Reapers MC, but his arms and shoulders had ink, too. I wanted to study them up close, but that seemed sort of rude. Also, I couldn’t quite get my eyes to focus.

I settled for standing next to him, leaning forward against the rail.

“Want another beer?” he asked. I shook my head.

“I’ve had enough,” I replied. I’d had slightly more than enough,
actually. I’d swayed climbing the stairs, and to be honest, I needed to either lean on the rail or sit. I felt my cheeks warm, and then I giggled.

Ruger glanced at me, raising his brows in silent question.

I giggled again.

“What?”

“Pretty buzzed,” I admitted, smiling at him. “Guess the beer hit me a little harder than I thought. Been that kind of day. Not enough food, not enough sleep. You know how it goes.”

He smiled back at me, and damn, he was beautiful. He’d definitely taken out some of his piercings, though.

“Why do you have less metal in your face now?” I asked, my sense of tact lost along with my sobriety. “It makes you look less scary and more human.”

He glanced at me, raising his brows.

“I pulled most of ’em out last winter,” he said. “Started boxing, and they aren’t so good for that.”

Huh. I didn’t know what to say about that. My eyes caught on the ring he’d left on the lower left side of his lip. I wondered how it would feel if I kissed him there, maybe sucked it into my mouth. I’d tug on it with my teeth and then attack the rest of his—

“You’re cute when you’re drunk,” he said, startling me.

“I’m not drunk,” I told him, indignant. “I’m buzzed. Perfectly okay … just … happy.”

He laughed, then leaned over to whisper in my ear.

“Get much happier, you’re gonna pass out. Then imagine what I could do to you.”

That was pretty funny, and I found myself giggling harder.

“Are you flirting with me?” I asked, feeling daring. I’d been trying to figure him out all day. Why hadn’t I just asked? I’d been afraid to talk about our relationship before now, but I couldn’t remember why. “Because I don’t understand you, Ruger. Half the
time you seem to hate me and then it all changes. Keeps flipping back and forth. It’s weird.”

He raised his brows. My eye caught on the piercing there, too. I wondered how much that hurt. Of course, it was nothing compared to his tattoos. My eyes dropped back down to his lips. They were full and way too soft for a guy, which I knew for a fact because they’d been all over my neck earlier.

Yup, I’d definitely suck on those, given the chance. I’d suck on them for a good long time.

Then I’d start moving down, trying out that pierced nipple on the way down to his cock. Was it as big and built as the rest of him? I wanted to know, desperately. I swayed again, feeling heat rise up through me, nipples hardening.

“I’m not trying to flirt with you,” he said.

Oh. Now
that
was a buzzkill.

“That’s too bad,” I said, sighing. What a shame. I wanted to sleep with Ruger. I really did. Or hell, anyone, for that matter. My rule about only dating safe guys I could control didn’t lead to much in the way of action. Maybe I should revisit those guidelines … “I don’t get to flirt enough. I spend all my time working and taking care of Noah. It’s kind of tiring, Ruger. I’d like to meet someone, you know?”

He didn’t respond, looking straight ahead. A little muscle in his jaw clenched. If I’d been just a little braver, I’d have leaned over and licked his jawline. He had just enough of a five o’clock shadow that it’d be nice and rough under my tongue.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, closing his eyes. “Despite what happened this morning, I’m not trying to start something with you, Sophie. You realize how fucked things would get if we started screwing each other? I’m not looking for a relationship and I’m not a one-woman man. We gotta work together for Noah. You know that.”

I sighed. I did know it. Stupid beer.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, turning away from him to look out across the valley. He’d really found a hell of a place. I still couldn’t believe how great our new home was.

Felt great to really relax, too, let it all out.

“Noah has to come first, we can agree on that one. I just want to get laid, though. Do you think any of the guys in your club are available? I don’t want a boyfriend, just a friend with benefits. Someone I can fuck and then ditch, guilt-free, when it gets old.”

Ruger made a choking noise and I glanced over at him, concerned.

“You okay?”

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with the club,” he said, his voice strained. “How did you go from that to friends with benefits so fast?”

“Actually, I think I might give the club a chance,” I replied. Maybe the Reapers would be all right—and the more I considered the whole friend-with-benefits thing, the more I liked the idea. I
never
got to have sex. I was twenty-four years old, for God’s sake. I should get to have sex!

“They did some really nice things for me today. Horse left home in the middle of the night to help someone he didn’t even know. And those girls … They must’ve worked for hours, getting everything ready for us. Just the furniture is amazing, let alone leaving dinner ready to go. I think the stencils are still wet.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

I frowned at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. “I thought you
wanted
me to get to know your friends in the club. And seriously—I deserve to get laid. I’ve earned it!”

Ruger straightened and turned to me, every muscle in his body tense and tightly leashed. His nose flared as he took a deep breath, and my eyes caught on the muscle in his jaw. He’d always been
scary, but right now he looked downright lethal. I should’ve been terrified, but I had my buzz wrapped around me like a nice warm blanket of protection.

I wasn’t going to let him bully me anymore.

“I think the girls would be good for you,” he said. “At least, some of them. You stick with the old ladies. Don’t want you around the others. But this friends-with-benefits shit? Not happenin’, Soph. Put that outta your mind, got me?”

“Why not?” I demanded, outraged. “You screw everything that moves. Why can’t I?”

“Because you’re a mother,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “You got no business fuckin’ around like that. I’m serious.”

“I’m a mother, but I’m not
dead
,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t let Noah meet someone unless it’s serious. But I’m ready for a little fun. Horse is hot, and if any of the other guys in your club are like him—even a little—they’d be perfect for me. Don’t give me shit about it, either. I know you guys fuck around. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Those are sweetbutts and club whores,” he said, his voice hard. “They’re trash. No fuckin’ way you’re gonna be one of them. Not happening, Soph.”

“You aren’t my boss.”

“You sound like a goddamned fourteen-year-old,” he replied, eyes narrowing.

“At least I don’t sound like an overprotective father,” I snapped. “You’re not my dad, Ruger.”

He reached out and caught me behind the neck, jerking me into his body. Then he dropped his mouth down to my ear, my face so close to his chest I could’ve licked him.

“Trust me, I’m well aware I’m not your father,” he said. His nose traced the curve of my ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver through me. “If I was, they’d throw my ass in jail for the shit I think about you.”

I raised my hands, sliding them up along his sides, tracing the line of his muscles before bringing them in to graze his nipples. I couldn’t help myself—I leaned forward and flicked his piercing with my tongue. Ruger groaned, and his fingers tightened in my hair. His entire body tensed, and then I felt the brush of his cock against my stomach.

Holy hell.

My nipples peaked and the flesh between my legs spasmed. I shifted restlessly. One of his hands slid down my back, past my shorts and panties, to cup my bare ass. His fingers tensed as I licked his nipple again, then sucked the ring into my mouth.

“Jesus …” he groaned. “You got two seconds before I lay you over that table and fuck you so hard it breaks. Swear to God, Soph. You wanna tell me how we’re gonna explain that to Noah? ’Cause I got shit. I’m not lookin’ to marry you and I sure as fuck won’t hand you my dick on a leash, so things could get weird fast, babe.”

I froze, shivering, feeling moisture soak my panties. I wanted to hump his leg like a bitch in heat, desperate for anything to fill the emptiness inside me.

Instead I pulled away from him slowly. His hand slid free of my shorts and we stepped apart, eyes boring into each other.

“Fuck,” Ruger muttered, running a hand through his hair. He looked away from me. The front of his pants bulged outward, his cock so hard I saw the thick head clearly outlined. I wondered what he’d do if I knelt down, pulling his pants low so I could run my tongue around the tip before sucking him deep into my mouth. It actually watered at the thought.

Desire speared me like a weapon. I sighed, licking my lips.

“I’m gonna get another beer,” Ruger said harshly. I looked up from his cock to his face to find his eyes glued to my chest. Shit. I was still wearing the damned Barbie tank, which left nothing to the imagination. My suitcase sat in his car.

“Grab me one, too,” I replied, my voice shaking.

“Sure that’s a good idea?”

I looked at him and shook my head. His chest rose and fell too fast, his dark eyes almost fully dilated. He swallowed and I rubbed my hand against the top of my thigh, restless and hungry. The steady motion caught his eye and he swallowed again.

“No, but I want one anyway.”

I walked unsteadily across the deck to a lounger and lay back on it, limp and full of need so intense I thought I might die. The sun had set, and the evening stars had started coming out somewhere along the line.
I should go back down to my little apartment
. I knew that. Instead I closed my eyes and thought about how much I wanted to reach down between my legs and rub my clit until I blew up right in front of him.