The Don's Baby: A Bad Boy Romance (34 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

She got up and cleaned herself off a little—just so she could get some sleep. She wasn’t sure if sleep was what was next or if she was on her way home—and she didn’t want to show up smelling like she’d been in an all-night fuck fest.

She looked around the nicely decorated bathroom and wondered who had gone through such trouble to make this look masculine and stylish. Maybe the club girls did it for him. They had done something similar for a few of the fellas that didn’t have much style and wanted to have a homier looking home. It shouldn’t make her even the tiniest bit jealous—but still. He was a grand lover, and she knew that before he’d even touched her. Word of mouth was powerful and the network of women were usually pretty accurate.

Why was she getting wrapped up in someone from another club? She had been trying to work on getting out on her own. She had plans of maybe going back to school and becoming a therapist for foster children or something like that. This thing she was involving herself with wasn’t going to get her out of club life, but it may opt her out of living all together.

She found a few washcloths and wet them with warm water. Staring at her image in the mirror as she wrung them out, she had to say that she looked more alive than she had in a good long while. Rafael seemed to have what it took to bring out a glow on her face. When he woke up, they were going to have to talk about a few things…like how she was supposed to get home. He couldn’t just drop her off in broad daylight. Plus, what should she say if people questioned her absence? She rarely did anything alone for too long of a time, and although she could have gotten an apartment at any time, she just stayed at the clubhouse apartments.

If this was going to be a one and done—like his usual—then she probably wouldn’t have any problems explaining this away. But if he did want something with her, they were going to have to think this through.

She finished stalling and hoped that Rafael would be sleeping when she got out there; but, when she opened up the door, he was propped up on his pillow still naked as the day he was born. Walking over, she went to clean him up a bit before she lay down, but he took the wet cloth from her hands. “If you do that, we’ll just end up back at square one,” he said good-naturedly. She didn’t think his assessment was far from the truth.

“Rafe?” she said, as she watched him rub the dried white substance off and wished she was the one cleaning him off.

“Yes.”

“We probably need to talk about where we go from here.” She was paying attention to any visual cues because maybe she was overstepping her boundaries; but, he appeared to be listening and thinking so she prodded on. “I’m fine if this is the end. I knew when we started a few hours ago that you don’t do more than a few times per chick.”

“So, you’re alright if this is the last time we see each other?” he asked, as he lay upon his pillow, looking like a tiger ready to pounce.

“I didn’t say that. It’s just that I’ve heard how you work, and I’m all right with that. I just wanted to know how this all was going to work.”

“You seemed to have heard a lot about me. What? Do the women I’ve been with put out a newsletter?”

“Not really, but you are a hot topic.”

“So, what do they say about my home?”

“That’s the thing. I’ve never heard anyone say anything about your house. With as beautiful as it is, I would have thought that someone would have said something.” With that, she noticed a smirk pass over his face. “What’s the smirk for?”

“No one has ever been to my house. Except for a few choice club members no one knows where I live.”

“Yet, you chose to share that information with me?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Yup. Does that give you any clues about where we’re going next?”

“That just leads me to many more questions. How are we going to do that? What are the consequences? What if we get caught?”

“Shhhhhhh,” Rafael said, moving her into his arms. “Let’s get a couple of hours of sleep and then maybe we can come up with something—even if it’s just a way to see each other a few more times. We’re both too tired to think about much of anything right now.”

“I guess you’re right.” She wanted to sort through all of this, but he was right. They were both beat and her mind wasn’t functioning the way it would be after a few hours of sleep and a strong cup of coffee.

He tucked her in the little spoon position, and she could feel his still prominent sex limp on her butt. Not a bad way to fall asleep.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Something was beeping, and she was so disoriented she could barely think of why she knew that sound. It would stop and then start all over again.

“It’s your phone,” a masculine voice said above her head. She leaped up and scrambled off the bed before she remembered all that had happened the night before.

“You’re a wild one even fresh from sleep. Calm down sexy,” he said, as she tried to pull herself together. “It’s your phone making that noise. Someone has been blowing up your phone, so I’m thinking you are missed.”

She grabbed her phone and turned it to silent because she just couldn’t deal with it before she’d gotten a bit of caffeine. “How long have we been asleep?”

“You’ve been asleep for about 5 hours; I woke up about an hour ago,” he said, watching her as if she needed to be handled with kid gloves.

“Don’t worry. I may have woke up a little off kilter, but I’m okay now,” she said, as he looked a little less wary.

“What did you do? Turn off your phone or put it on vibrate?”

“I put it on vibrate.”

“Good because if you turned it off, it would look even more suspicious. Not that anything you say isn’t going to be suspicious.”

“Let’s just get a cup of coffee and forget everyone for a little while longer.” She knew that wasn’t the answer, but she didn’t want to face it all at this moment.

“The world stopped for us for a good few hours, sweetheart. Our time is about up,” he said, as he handed her a large t-shirt and watched her pull it over her head.

“I know. I know. It’s just that I’m not ready. I’ll be out of your way in a little bit. I promise.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you around. I just don’t want this to be harder on you than it needs to be until we can figure this out.” He dressed quickly and stood against the doorframe waiting for her. He looked even better than he had in the darkness.

“Alright.” She looked at him and thought about how much fun she’d had last night. Her fantasy had come true. Plus, she’d gotten more than just a night with the man she’d desired for as long as she could remember. The thing she knew for sure was her life was going to be different. Win, lose, or draw, she wouldn’t be muddling around in a bored mundane life and for all of those things she was grateful. She walked over and gave him a light kiss on the mouth. The phone rang in the ominous ring tone she’d given for the president of the Headless Reapers. It was the ring that was exempt from the normal silencing.

She must have gasped as she turned to look at her phone.

“Who’s that?”

“That’s the president of the Reapers calling,” she said with a tremor in her voice. She burrowed into Rafe’s arms, needing him to ward off the chill of fear that had suddenly swept through her body.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“You know you’re going to have to face the music sometime,” Rafael Neal the VP of the Mountain Tribesmen said calmly into her ear—the one that wasn’t pressed against his shoulder.

Emma Walsh was a club girl from the Tribesmen’s rival motorcycle club, the Headless Reapers. Rafe had crashed the Reapers’ first annual masked party and had swept her away. The connection they had was fun and powerful, but after the night of sex and exploration that had just ended, it appeared their good time was a thing of the past. The light of a new day was where they stood now, and she refused to be cowed. Was she in the wrong? According to the club rules, the ones that said there shouldn’t be contact with a member of another motorcycle club—especially if the clubs were rivals—then yes, she was totally in the wrong. However, according to how she’d always felt about the man who now held her in his arms, she’d have to say that answer was no.

“I just wanted to spend a few more minutes alone with you before we have to face all of this,” she said, wanting to preserve her time with him a little longer.

He untangled her arms from around his waist, moved to pick up her phone, and held it out to her, as he returned. Emma really didn’t want to take it, but she knew he was right. The jarring ring started again, just as he placed it in her hand.

“Hello,” she said, wondering if she should take the call somewhere else—but not wanting to be too far away from Rafe.

“Hey, Emma. Where the hell have you been? We’ve been looking for you since last night,” Tricia said. Emma was pleasantly surprised that her friend was on the other end of the line. The phone had a special ring for Joe Burgundy, the president of the Headless Reapers. He’d put the ring into her phone himself. The fact that she was using his phone meant there were some hook-ups she’d missed while she was out on the town and on her back with Rafe.

“I’ve been here and there. Got bored at the party and wanted to do something else,” Emma said, hoping that tale wouldn’t be questioned. It was unusual for her to be away from the house for any length of time, but she didn’t think Tricia would mention it.

“There are a lot of plans in the works here at the house, and there is going to be a meeting for us girls this afternoon—so you have a few hours to get back to the house.”

“Plans? For us club girls? Since when did we get meetings?” She was surprised there hadn’t been a dedicated meeting for the club girls since she’d started with the club.

“New president…new plans, I guess. I think everyone will be here, but he specifically wants all the girls here, too. All I know for sure is Joe wants everyone here at 4 p.m. sharp. So, can you make it here by then, girlie?”

Emma had always liked Tricia. She’d come from Texas, and although she wasn’t big on talking about her past, she had a heart of gold and would give you the butter off her biscuit if you asked her for it. “I’ll be there,” Emma said, knowing she really didn’t have any choice.

“Good to know. I’ll check you off the sheet, go about calling the next person, and see you when you get here.”

Emma ended the call and looked at her phone. Something didn’t seem right, but she wasn’t going to be able to figure out what was going on until she was at the meeting. Meeting? Everything was changing so fast. Plus, Joe was so different from the last leader, it was hard to keep up with what was expected of her. He wasn’t the nicest man or the most personable, but she hadn’t been in charge of picking the new president—so she just had to follow who’d been picked.

“See. That didn’t seem as bad as you thought it was going to be,” Rafe said, watching her closely.

She couldn’t get over the fact that she’d spent part of the evening and all night with the hottest biker in town. She’d heard so many things about him from their foster mother, as well as the women he’d been with.  Every sexy thing she’d heard about him was true, and she wanted to know more. They’d shared a foster mother, but they had been in her home a few years apart. Yet, Miss Marlene had loved him like a son, and she talked about him all the time.

Emma thought this would be a one-night thing, but their chemistry was off the charts. No sex she’d had before had prepared her for the way he played her body like a well tuned instrument.

“I guess not,” she said, not wanting him to know how shaken she was by the call and the ominous sounding meeting she was supposed to attend in a few hours. “Do you have the makings of a meal in your kitchen? I love to cook, and I want to see you eat what I make for you.”

“You have a way of making everything sound like sex is involved.” He chuckled, reached for her hand, and pulled her behind him. “It’s a good thing I like food and sex. I’ve got lots of food choices for you to put together. I’ll watch you do your magic in the kitchen, and then you can watch me do my magic on you.”

“That sounds like you are saying that sex will be my payment for a great breakfast?” she said, watching his muscular rear view.

When they reached the kitchen, he spun around and pulled her into his arms. His deep brown eyes were bright and focused. She couldn’t believe the excitement that ran through her, just being the center of his attention and watching his soft lips descend toward hers. The kiss he gave her was softer than all the others she’d received before.

Getting a sweet kiss from this man—who looked like a hardened beast—almost took her breath away. She opened for him and accepted the kiss he gave her until she couldn’t stand still. Then, she kissed him back, hoping he could feel how much she enjoyed being with him.

“You can think of it anyway you’d like, but all I can tell you is there will be more than one thing getting stuffed while we are in this kitchen.” He spun her toward the refrigerator and gave her a quick smack on her bottom. She giggled with delight because she loved his playful demeanor. There was that damn giggling again…what in the world was this man doing to her?

She moved away from him and looked through his kitchen, noticing that is was well-stocked and had all the necessary utensils to make a meal.

“Do you cook often?” She wanted to know all she could about him, and she’d heard that he was tight with any and all information about himself. It wasn’t a particularly intimate question, but she wanted to start small to see if he’d answer before moving on to something a bit more personal.

She looked up periodically to see what showed on his face, and this time when she caught his gaze, she found him just staring at her. Was he going to answer? Beginning to feel very foolish for making what had been a great night and sexy morning awkward, she busied herself with making the best spinach, cheddar, and ham omelet she could make.

“I cook a little. When I lived with Marlene, she showed us all how to take care of ourselves and that included learning a little about cooking and a whole lot about cleaning.” He moved then to set utensils on the table, and she missed the warmth of his stare. At least he was talking, so she couldn’t really complain.

Emma could remember being with Miss Marlene and learning a lot of things from her. That woman had a heart of gold, and she’d told Emma that she’d not been blessed with children of her own so she figured that meant there were some children who were already on earth who needed her. She was right about that. There were a lot of kids that needed exactly her, and she had more patience than she’d ever seen anyone have with “her” children.

Miss Marlene had taken in the worst of the worst—the children who no one wanted and were on the last stop before entering a juvenile facility. Yet, she made them all feel like they were her shining stars. There was something about a woman who made kids feel like they weren’t the garbage everyone else said they were and made them feel like they could be better and do better. She turned a lot of the children she’d worked with on the right path, but she and Rafe had chosen another path.

Sometimes it hurt her heart that she may have let Miss Marlene down. Emma knew for a fact that Rafe had broken that woman’s heart when he left. She’d loved and mourned for him like her own son. She wasn’t there to witness what her departure had done to Miss Marlene; but, in her heart, she hoped she wasn’t as torn up about her as she was about Rafe.

“I got a lot of good lessons from her, too,” Emma said, snapping herself out of her blast from the past and trying to enjoy the happy that was now—not wallowing in the guilt of the past.

“I can tell. You are doing the signature omelet that she liked to make.” Rafe had gone back to standing on the wall, watching her. She must have been so into her thoughts and making their brunch she hadn’t been watching him.

She looked down and had to smile—because he was right. It was the same combination of omelet her foster mother liked to make. Miss Marlene had often told her it was how she got the kids to get some spinach down without an argument—and damned if it weren’t true. Everyone wanted her special omelet. As a matter of fact, there had been arguments when there wasn’t enough. However, Miss Marlene would always make more. Emma hadn’t liked that particular vegetable before she’d eaten that infamous blending while in foster care, but it was a comfort food now. “You’re right. I am making this blast from the past omelet. How did you know that’s what I was doing?”

“I knew what you were going to make when you lined up all the necessary ingredients. I make that for myself every once in a while.” He went from leaning against the wall to sitting on one of the stools in front of her. She felt like she was on a cooking show, as he watched her; but, she enjoyed it immensely.

“I’ve got to be back by 4 p.m. There’s something they want me to be there for.” Emma told him because she didn’t really know where they were, and it seemed like they drove for a good long while yesterday. He would know when they should leave to get her back on time better than she would.

He looked at his watch and then back at her. “I’ll have you there with plenty of time to spare.”