The Cut by Carol Lynne: Kings of Bedlam MC Series, Book One (20 page)

Several minutes later, he kissed her spine. “I’m going to try another now,” he warned before easing a third finger into her.

For some reason, the third was easier to take than the first two, and she was soon squirming for more. “Now,” she begged. “Please?”

Stake withdrew, and within moments, she felt the head of his cock against her. “Ease back as much as you can.”

She started to rise up again, but he stopped her with a hand to her back. “Relax. Just take a deep breath, and rock back onto my cock. Take as much of me as you can handle without too much pain.”

Doing as instructed, she felt his crown press against her but not penetrate her. She tried again, putting more force into her actions and sucked in a sharp intake of air when she felt the head of his cock push inside of her. “Oh, God,” she panted at the burn. She started to retreat, but Stake grabbed her hips and kept her in place.

“Just wait. As soon as the pain stops, take a little more,” he urged.

Like always, he was right. Within moments, the pain had dissipated, and she was ready for more. They repeated the process until his cock was fully buried inside her.

“I feel a lump in my throat, and I’m afraid it’s you,” she said in an attempt to break the tension between them. She could feel his grip on her hips getting tighter and tighter the longer it took for her to fully accept his length. She knew his body was dying to let loose and fuck her freely, but he was trying to spare her the pain it might cause.

With a grunt, he eased his hold. “I’m going to slide out and back in. You’d better fuckin’ tell me if I hurt you.”

She prepared herself for pain, but wasn’t prepared for the loss she felt when he pulled almost entirely out of her. She wanted to scream in protest, but before she could open her mouth, he eased back inside. “Again,” she moaned, experiencing nothing but pure pleasure.

He withdrew a few inches before pushing more forcefully inside. “Okay?”

“Uh huh.” She hugged the pillow under her head as he started to fuck in and out of her.

With each pump of his hips, Stake groaned. “I’m not gonna last. Touch yourself.”

As close as she was to coming, she wasn’t sure she needed the added stimulation, but she did as asked, plunging her fingers into her pussy while her thumb centered on her clit. She felt the flutter in her stomach first before her body jerked as the vibration of her climax worked through her, leaving even the hair on her head to tingle in ecstasy.

“Christ!” Stake bellowed as he bucked against her ass, his fingertips biting into her skin.

He slowly withdrew before collapsing onto the bed beside her. His breathing was erratic as he threw his arm over his eyes. “Never been like that,” he panted.

She rolled to her side and moved to press against him. “Is that bad?”

He shifted his arm above his head and opened one eye to look at her. “For my heart? Hell, yeah.” He grinned. “You’ve officially erased all memories of sex before you.”

She’d always tried not to think about the hundreds of women who had been with Stake in the past, but it hadn’t been easy. Hearing that she made him feel better than any other woman soothed the jealous viper within her in regards to the line of whores who’d come before her. A worry niggled at the back of her mind. “Will you be able to go without until we’re together again?”

Stake leaned up on his elbows and gazed down at her. “You don’t ever have to worry about me touching another pussy. Got it?”

She bit her lip, knowing easy sex was part of the biker lifestyle. “I can’t say it would be a deal breaker for me if it happened, but I’m not sure my heart would recover.”

Gathering her into his arms, he pulled her on top of him. “You’ve taught me something no one else ever has. Sex is hollow with the wrong person. Without you, the act of fucking doesn’t interest me in the least. Not anymore.”

The comment warmed her. “I love you.”

* * * *

“He’s here,” Stake announced, opening the back door.

The glass she’d been washing broke as her hand involuntarily fisted at the words.
Shit.
She pulled her hand out of the dishwater and watched as blood began to run down her fingers. Leaving Stake was the hardest thing she’d ever been asked to do, but she’d tried to convince herself that it was what he needed.

“Fuck, bug, what’d you do?” He grabbed a dishtowel and cradled her hand in his palm as he examined the cut.

She didn’t say anything, couldn’t answer him for fear that she’d beg him to let her stay.

“Knock. Knock,” a deep graveled voice said from behind her. “Hope you don’t mind that I’m early. Tiny had something he had to get to.”

“Hey, Gypsy. Do me a favor and grab the first aid kit under the sink in the hall bathroom.”

Gypsy walked over and peered over her shoulder before whistling. “That looks nasty.”

“Yeah,” Stake agreed. “The kit?” he reminded.

“Right.” Gypsy left the kitchen.

“Talk to me,” Stake demanded.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, refusing to look at him. Not only was Stake sending her away, but Tiny hadn’t even cared enough to come inside. When Stake had told her Tiny was the brother who’d pick Gypsy up at the airport, she’d been relieved that she get a chance to see her old friend before she left. Wishful thinking.

“Bullshit.” With a sigh, he led her over to the table and sat in his favorite chair, pulling her onto his lap. “It won’t be for long. I promise.”

She nodded. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard the words. The goddamn tears started again as she remembered the last time he’d told her he’d be back. It had been one of the hottest summers on record and Stake had stopped by the house on his way out of town. He’d explained that he needed to help his brothers in Oklahoma City for a while and had stressed how important it was that she lay low with Smash while he was gone. He’d made her swear that if she noticed her father drinking she’d find somewhere else to go. Of course, she’d promised, she would have gone along with anything he’d wanted back then. He’d given her a kiss on the cheek and had told her it wouldn’t be for long and he’d be back before she had a chance to notice he was gone. A day later her father had been arrested, and she hadn’t seen Stake again until the time she’d been sunbathing and he’d stopped by Gordon’s. The pain she’d felt that day still scarred her heart.

A white plastic box landed on the table with a thump making her jump. Stake tried to soothe her with a kiss to her temple, but when he tried to wipe the tears from her cheek, she turned her head, knowing there’d only be more to replace them.

Gypsy pulled out a chair and started to sit, but Stake stopped him. “Why don’t you load Santana’s things while I get this cut taken care of?”

Gypsy didn’t answer immediately prompting Santana took look at him for the first time since he’d walked into the house. She was immediately taken with how much the two men resembled each other, same coloring, same dimples. She glanced at Stake. Same unusual amber-colored eyes rimmed in long black lashes. No way.

“Don’t ask,” he whispered in her ear.

“You okay?” Gypsy asked her.

She looked up at him once again and shrugged. Lying was the last thing she felt like doing. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Gypsy glanced at Stake before crossing his arms. “I’m not about to take an unwilling woman across state borders.”

“It’s not that,” she said. “I told him I’d go.”

“Would ya give us a fuckin’ minute?” Stake asked.

“Sure. Are the boxes on the porch it?”

“Except for her suitcase, and I’ll get that,” Stake replied. “I’ll pack up the rest of the stuff and bring it with me, but there should be enough there to make her comfortable.

Gypsy walked out of the house, leaving her to face Stake’s temper. She knew she’d angered him, and she hated that she was acting like a brat, but it hurt knowing it could be months before she saw him again.

Stake opened the first aid box and removed a bottle of peroxide. He rested her hand on the dishtowel and poured the bubbling liquid over the cut. “Sending you away isn’t what I want—far from it. But it’s not safe for you here right now. I need you to understand that—not just agree to it.”

Hiding her face with her free hand, she struggled to keep her emotions under control. “I’m sorry. I know I’m making this harder than it needs to be, and I know I’m being irrational, but I have this overwhelming feeling that I’m not going to see you again.”

Stake didn’t say anything until he’d finished bandaging her hand. Once her injury was taken care of, he led her into the master bathroom. “Sit,” he instructed, pointing to the closed toilet lid.

She sat, trying to work out Stake’s mood. He didn’t appear to be angry, but his jaw was set, and he hadn’t met her gaze.

Stake removed a screwdriver from under the sink before pushing back the bathmat on the floor. He knelt and pried up several floorboards before setting the screwdriver aside. Reaching inside, he came back out with a large duffle before setting it at her feet. “There’s three-hundred and twenty thousand dollars in there. It’s every penny I’ve saved and what I plan to retire with. I want you to take it.”

“I don’t want your money.” She pushed the bag toward him with her foot.

“I want you to use it to put money down on a house and to help furnish it with whatever we need. I’m pretty good with my hands, but if the place needs electrical or plumbing, have that hired out.” He slid across the floor to kneel at her feet. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he laid his head in her lap. “That money is my future. I wouldn’t give it to you if I didn’t plan to spend the next seventy-years with you.”

“Okay.” What else could she say to something so heartfelt? “I’m afraid to go without you, but I’ll try to feel better about it.”

“You still have no idea how strong you are, do you? I’m glad you want to be with me, but you’ve proven to both of us that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself until I can get there.” He sat up and kissed her, sweeping her mouth with his tongue, slow and deep. “Gypsy will be there whenever you need him.”

“Are you related to him?” she asked. She couldn’t figure out why he’d put so much faith in Gypsy when he rarely seemed to trust people.

“Probably, but we don’t discuss it. We’re not blind, we know we look alike, that’s how we became friends. I went with the club to the big biker and barbeque weekend in Fayetteville and we ran into each other. That was twelve years ago and we’ve talked at least once a month since.”

“Do you think you have the same father?” she asked.

“Who the fuck knows? Neither of us had a dad who stuck around after the party was over, so without tests, there’s no way to tell.”

Smash might have been a sick asshole but at least he’d cared enough to stick around. She’d never stopped to compare Stake’s childhood to her own. It was obvious he had issues with his bitch of a mom, but had he been alone, or had he had someone like she’d had him? “Who did you go to as a child when you needed help?”

He seemed surprised by the question. His brows drew together as he sat back on his heels. “When I was a boy, Cecil, I guess, but that changed once I told him I wanted to join the club.”

“He didn’t want you to?” she assumed Cecil would have been thrilled to have Stake follow in his footsteps.

“Cecil’s…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Cecil’s’ life is the club, and when I became a prospect, he sat me down and told me he was no longer my uncle. That if I was going to become a member, I would have to understand that he was the Prez.” He shrugged. “I think that’s why I started hanging out with Smash. Your family wasn’t perfect, but it was the closest I’d ever seen at that point in my life.”

She knew she needed to be more understanding. They were both carrying years of emotional baggage. “I think we still have a lot to learn about each other.”

He pulled her off the toilet and into his lap. “Yeah, time apart might be good for us. We can talk on the phone, and I won’t be able to get distracted by your beauty.”

She felt so much better, but there was one thing still bothering her. “Why’s Tiny avoiding me?”

“He’s not,” Stake denied.

“I need to know the truth. Does he regret doing what he did? Does he hate me now?”

Instead of answering her, Stake reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his contact list before hitting enter. Handing Santana the phone, he nodded. “Talk to him, but under no circumstances are you to discuss Gordon’s death over the phone.”

“You think someone’s listening?” She couldn’t imagine the investigators would go that far.

“I doubt it, but better safe than sorry.”

“Hey. Is she gone?” Tiny asked.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Not yet,” she answered.

“Shit. Santana. I’m sorry, I thought it was Stake.”

“Yeah, I got that.” She leaned against Stake’s broad chest. “Are you mad at me?”

“No. Why in the hell would you think that?”

“You didn’t care enough to come in with Gypsy and tell me goodbye, so I guess I need to know whether or not you’re happy that I’m leaving.”

Tiny didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he cleared his throat several times. “I love you, Santana, and the last thing in the world I want is for you to go away, but Stake’s right, it’s not safe for you here.” He coughed. “Anyway, I guess I’m a chicken shit coward because I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye.”