Sinful Duo: Lost Angels MC, page 8
Again, I give myself a mental shake. Should it matter? I’m only here until I can find the means to get farther away from Axel and the Scavengers. I’m already more of a burden to Ric than I want to be by sticking around, and involving myself with one of his members isn’t at all what he has planned I’m sure. I’ve already messed with his life once, as well as his daughter's life, I’d hate to repeat the same mistake.
Yes, it’s better if I just find a way out, and with as little casualty as possible. Now...if only this wasn’t the place I’m staying so that I could slip out unnoticed. I roll my eyes, how stupid can I be? Regardless, I make my way out of bed and into the bathroom. I relieve myself and quickly dress in yesterday’s clothes, cleaning the room of my mess and dressing at the same time. Who says I can’t multitask?
Giving Echo one last glance I start to close the door silently behind me and decide what I should do next. Gasping due to a twinge of pain, I lift my foot, and find a button.
Chapter 14
I blink against the light. Once my annoyance recedes and my eyes adjust, I finally appreciate the fact that I’ve slept for six hours straight. In bed with someone else no less. Though as I take a look around, Lidia isn't in sight. I know she fell asleep here curled against me. The last time that happened...I let my mind wander from the memory. That had been a low day and I’ve been careful to not repeat my mistake. So why did I risk falling asleep beside Lidia? I didn’t have an answer, but something inside me was unsettled, yet something else finally was.
After a good stretch, and a few minutes to allow the morning wood to go down, I get up from the bed and head to take a piss. When I come out, I grab my pants off the floor and pull them up my legs. I start to search for my other clothes while I pull my hair up back into its bun, but they aren't anywhere I can see. Not in the bathroom either. Maybe she expects me to go without them?
I open the bedroom door expecting to see her on the couch or in the kitchen, but she isn't. Calling out to her, I wait, but again nothing. A cold sweat breaks out onto my skin. Seeing the door to the back yard I yank it open. It comes open to easily and I notice the strike plate is gone, and the hole meant for the latch is gaping. That'll need to be fixed. A glance outside shows me only that I've come up empty in my search.
“Lidia?!” I say to the yard hoping I'll prove myself wrong. My heart starts to speed up. I shut the door and take another look around and there's only one other door aside from the front I haven't looked. I jog to it and yank it open a bit too violently.
“Lidia?!” I yell down a pair of stairs. I'm out of breath, shaking, and my heart is beating out almost every other sound from my ears, but I still hear her voice call back to me.
Yet I don't start to relax until I finally see her come into view at the bottom. She's looking up at me with a soft smile. That is until she takes in my face. She takes a step up.
“Echo? Everything alright?” her eyes dart past me and then back.
I do my best to force my body to relax and smile, “Fine. What are you doing down there?”
She smiles again, and lifts up what's in her hands, “Fixing your shirt and drying your pot of gold.”
Now that my heart rate has calmed, I can hear the dryer running. I walk down the steps, and she moves aside for me.
“I'm not done fixing it yet, and it'll be at least a few minutes more for your boxers,” she says.
“I wouldn't have thought you were the Suzy Homemaker type.”
Frowning, she concentrates on the shirt. I'm not sure why that upset her, but I feel like an ass regardless. I’m debating whether or not to apologize when she begins talking again.
“I’m done,” she doesn’t look at me as she hands me the shirt. Instead, she turns from me to head towards the dryer the moment she saw that I had grabbed it.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt.
“For what?” she asks without looking from inside the dryer.
“Whatever I did,” I say helplessly. I could have done a number of things in the past few seconds and be completely unaware at this point.
When she looks at me there’s nothing to show her upset, “You didn’t do anything. You want coffee?”
She throws my boxers at me, by the time I look up from catching them she’s already halfway up the stairs. Alright, that’s enough.
“Hey,” I say when we are both in the kitchen. I put the shirt and boxers down onto the counter.
“Hmmmm?” she hums as she works to make the coffee, but I’m done playing whatever this woman game she’s playing. I pick her up, ignoring the protests coming from her, and set her on the island. I box her in with my body and grab her chin.
“Enough,” that stills her hands on my forearm, but we both know I wasn't just talking about her hands.
“I've never been nor shall I ever be a homemaker.” Though she spits it at me with unveiled venom there's a sadness in her eyes.
“Why does it bother you?”
Her first response is of course denial, but I'm patient, it takes even longer this time around to get the next answer from her.
“Because it was never in the cards for me,” she closes her eyes since it’s her only way to hide from me. I still don’t understand, but pushing her further may not be a smart move. Tank usually handles these sorts of things. Tends to emotions that I’ve never really understood. I’m not Tank.
“You want to be Suzy?”
She opens her eyes just to roll them at me. My God that sass. “No, not exactly. It just reminds me of what I didn’t have growing up. Stability, a real home, a family,” she states, her cheeks pinking.
That's something I can't relate to. Tank maybe could and that's why he's a better person for this job. I grew up with my mom staying at home, her teaching my younger sister all those “Suzy” traits. My father would never admit, just as I wouldn't, that we learned a few things overhearing their whispered lessons. I couldn't imagine my life without them in it. To know this woman went without, it’s hard to not feel sorry for what she lost out on. She doesn't need or want my sympathy, and I’m not the kind of man to give it, regardless. I don't need words for what I want to say.
My hands now placed on either side of her face, I cradle her and bring her lips to mine. What I meant to be a soft transaction turned easily into something hungry. Her legs wrap around me, and my fingers glide and tighten in her hair. We don’t pull away from each other until we are panting into each other's mouths.
One last nibble for the road, as she takes my bottom lip and licks. I groan and the persistence of my erection turns into an ache that is almost too painful not to appease.
“Fuck it,” she breaths under her breath right before she wiggles her hand down my jeans and grasps me. I let out a moan and involuntarily grind into her hand. She doesn’t even move her eyes from mine, and on her face is an expression I’ve seen a million times over. Challenge and determination. We're not in the middle of the desert, there aren’t lives at stake, but lives at this moment are in the balance. She’s asking me something with her action and expression I’m not sure I can accept or even fully understand being that we're not in mortal danger, but with her hands around where the blood flow is rushing, I can’t deny her.
My hands snake their way down until they grab her perfectly round globes and pull her against my body, and with a growl, we’re on the move to her bedroom. “Undress,” I growl again as I tug my jeans off. This time there isn’t hesitation on her part, and a ripple of excitement goes through me. It may be a sign of her eagerness, but I admit it feels good to have a woman like her follow a command.
“So, what are you fucking?” I ask as I push her onto the bed. When her body settles, she leans up on her elbows and looks over at me as I get to my knees. I smirk when her eyes widen when I grab her legs and pull her towards me. She lets out a yelp as I force her legs open and up to completely expose her to me, “Are you going to answer?”
I don’t wait for her answer before I use my tongue to taste her. A humming comes from the back of my throat as I savor her. My face goes in deeper, not able to get enough of her or the mewling sound she makes as I explore. Though my irritation catches up to me, and I lift from her and bring a hand down on her exposed hamstring.
She had found her way to her back, hands grasping her nipples, but with the look of shock on her face they’ve been forgotten, “What the hell?!” she asks, her frown deepening.
“Answer.”
“What?”
“My question,” I frown along with her.
“What was the question?” Her cheeks heat, “You’ll be lucky if I answer it at all with that kind of treatment,” she covers her large pink nipples from my view as if to demonstrate further what she means. I raise an eyebrow but I’m not worried.
“What.Are.You.Fucking?” I ask.
“You, if you would shut up and do your job.”
My dick jumps at her challenge. Why do I love it so damn much when she talks back to me?! It’s fucking infuriating, but it turns me on more than anything else she does. I grip her hips and turn her onto her stomach. Her ass is up in the air, and she’s spitting some kind of argument, but it only fuels me more. It’s like pouring gasoline on an already too hot flame. I smack her ass and watch in glorious fascination as it waves its way back into place before bunching it in my hands.
“Owh! What was that for? You can't….mmmhhh.”
I push into her, and cut off whatever she was beginning to say, a moan is how it ends. “That fucking sassy mouth of yours,” I growl, and she shivers underneath me.
I pull out achingly slow, with only the tip remaining, before I take my hand and redden her other cheek. She gasps and pushes herself back onto me until I completely disappear into her heat. Fuck she feels amazing, and not thinking it could get any better I start to move again, but then she starts to move her hips to a rhythm only she knows, and for a few minutes I get lost in watching her move. My grip on her ass gets rougher, and the skin where my fingers dig is beginning to turn her skin white, but it only seems to spur her on.
It’s too soon that I feel myself wanting to cum. With the all-consuming view, it isn’t a surprise why. I could cum, but I want her right there with me. So with a hard thrust, I disrupt her movement and pound until her ass is high, her face pressed against the bed, and her breath as labored as mine is.
With a gasp, I can feel her come apart around me, and if the feeling of her milking me didn’t make me tip over the edge, the look on her face would have.
Chapter 15
How did I let this happen again? Fuck it...right, I couldn't seem to help myself.
He left not too long after we had sex, so I’ve had plenty of time for self-doubt and criticism to set in. It's not as if I make it a habit to jump into bed with practical strangers, alright at least since I hit my mid-twenties, so why am I finding my resolve so easily overcome by him?
A knock comes, and Brook is waiting there with a shit eating grin. I don’t even ask what she’s doing here before she pushes past me and into my kitchen. I close the door and follow her.
“Just saw him leave, now tell me everything!” she demands as she swivels in one of the islands chairs.
“Tell you what? Isn't Liam home yet anyways? What are you doing here?”
She snorts, “Liam is still asleep. As for the other...I haven't had sex in,” she actually looks like she has to think about it. “Well that’s depressing, but let's just say it’s been a very long time, and now that I know one of us is getting some...I NEED to live vicariously through you,” she points at me, “and don’t leave out any juicy little detail...if you do, I’ll know.”
“How would you know,” I start to chuckle, but it’s cut off with her next words.
“Because I could hear every damn thing from my house. Though I had to listen really hard,” she admits with a smile.
“You’re such a perv!”
“Maybe, but you love me anyway,” she speaks nothing but the truth, and we both laugh, though me through a very red blush. So as I unfold my night and morning with Echo she drinks in every detail.
When I start to talk about the moments we spent on this counter she looks down and starts to stroke it. I can’t help but laugh at her, “It didn’t start out sexy…” I’m not sure why I even say it aloud. I have kept all the conversation Echo and I had from the retelling. So why have I felt the need to say anything now?
“What do you mean?” she asks, and all I see there is open concern in her face. It would be nice to talk to someone about it.
I let out a sigh, “He found me sewing buttons onto his shirt, and said something about being a Suzy Homemaker. It just brought up some painful realizations from my past.”
“Like what?” she probes after I pause too long.
“That no matter how many shirts I sew buttons onto it will never make up for the fact I never had a mom...that I had to teach myself those kinds of things.”
I’m too ashamed of my outburst to look up, but there she is beside me taking me into an embrace. It didn’t feel like a hug from a friend instead it felt like a hug only a mom could give. The kind that you can feel radiates love and understanding, though what would I know? I just know it makes me fill with something enough to let some silent tears flood my eyes and start to stream down my face, and as if she knows she just hugs me harder.
I’m not sure how long we stand there for, but when she pulls back, the tears have gone, “You know it doesn’t mean that those things you’ve taught yourself have any less value, in fact, I think it says more of who you are and what you are capable of. Your mom may have not been around, but I bet she would have been proud to see all that you’ve accomplished on your own.”
I nod unsure if she would be, but I sure hope so. Either way, I am grateful for her words.
“What happened to your mom if you don't mind me asking?”
The empty feeling and guilt fill me no matter how many times I've said it, “She died while giving birth to me.”
“Oh,” that single word is heavy with pity, “though you know, if I knew I would have died giving birth to Liam I would have done it anyways if it meant giving him life. Even as he is a pain in my ass teenage boy, he's the light of my life, and without question I'd lay down my life for him. If your mom sat in front of me, I'm sure she'd say the same about you,” she places a hand over mine, “you are absolutely amazing. I've only known you for a few weeks and already know I love you.” I start to laugh and wipe away my tears with one hand and squeeze hers that's in mine.
When Brook lets me go and returns to her seat we talk of other things, and though I know she’s still curious, she doesn’t bring up Echo again.
Brook leaves as soon as she gets a text from Liam asking where she is. Which leaves me home alone with no plans but to eat ice cream and watch 80’s classics for the rest of the day.
With all the drama of the day I'd say thank goodness for small favors.
On Monday when I arrive at the club and back behind the bar, I expect to see Echo there, or even Tank, but it’s Chancy instead. I don't know him very well, but he seems familiar to me. I can't place from where though, and it has me nervous.
He sticks out in this rough and tumble crowd that adopts a laid-back exterior. He looks like he can easily pull off being between the covers of a magazine. He is what you would call pretty, and it contradicts all that I know of an MC club. Sure you come across someone that is blessed with good looks, but they seem to have an attribute that clicks seamlessly into place with the other members. This guy doesn’t even seem to belong with the rest of the group. He is so guarded even with his club members, and they don’t stick around to trade a single word with him after getting their drink. In fact, he is lucky to get a muted thanks.
“What did you do to piss off everyone?” I ask him when I am done working in awkward silence.
He looks surprised that I even tried to talk to him, “Nothing, whatever, they're all dicks anyways.”
“Ummm alright, that response says a lot more about you than it does about anyone else in the room.”
“What the fuck would you know?” There is a deep crease between his brow as he scowls at me with his clear blues, his full mouth tilted in a harsh sneer, and suddenly I feel bad for him.
Though the feeling doesn’t stop me from speaking my mind, “I know there isn’t a need for such blatant dislike of someone you don’t know, use that kind of language with, and act as if you are back in high school instead of your age,” I turn my back to him and put my hands into the sink to wash some of the glasses to get them restocked.
He doesn’t say anything, in fact when I turn back around, he is gone. He bailed on me, and he didn’t come back. I spent the rest of the shift alone, and I’m glad it’s a short shift for me today. Apparently, there’s something going on tomorrow for the club so they were closing up early. I wasn’t going to complain. By the time I shouted last call into the room, it’s nearly empty.
Tank had come in earlier. I had been so distracted watching him assessing the room with his whiskey-colored eyes that I had almost lost my grip on the Bud I had been handing to a member. He even reserved a special kind of smile for me as we locked eyes. I’m disappointed that he didn’t come to say hi, but part of me is grateful. I didn’t want to become any more distracted than I already was. Constructing the perfect argument when I saw Echo next is waging war already in my mind. Whatever’s between us has to stop. Though it hasn’t stopped me from watching Tank throughout the night. It’s as if he were a magnet and my eyes the attracting force. Even in this moment, my eyes down pouring two fingers of bourbon I can feel where he is in the room. It’s the exact same pull I feel when Echo is in the room.
I am relieved when it is time for me to go home. I give the guys left a tired smile and linger longer on Tank as he speaks to Bear in a corner across the room. He must feel my gaze because he looks up and smiles back. Why did I send him a little wave on my way out? Oh God, I am tired. The cooling air outside feels good on my skin and I’m grateful for it when I start to walk home.
