Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Maggie—
The smell of rich coffee brewing and bacon sizzling in a pan have me cracking an eye open and groaning. The sun peeps through the lace curtains of my bedroom.
I throw on a short robe with not a stitch on underneath and follow the scent to my tiny kitchen to find Keno standing at the stove, tending a fry pan. His eyes hit me and skate down my body to my bare legs and feet. “Morning beautiful. Hungry?”
“Starved.”
“There’s coffee. The bacon is gonna take a few more minutes.”
I pour myself a cup and move to the little table.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a man make me breakfast,” I say, watching him.
His head swivels to mine, and there’s a sly grin on his face. “The morning after the hurricane doesn’t count?”
“That’s right. You made us peanut butter sandwiches.”
“It’s all I could manage with the power out.”
“I stand corrected.”
He turns off the burner, puts the bacon on a plate, and sets it before me. I snag a piece and start munching. “This is better.”
Keno grabs a mug of coffee for himself and joins me. After a couple of sips, he sets it down and nabs my hand, tugging. “C’mere.”
He pulls me onto his lap, facing him with my legs around his waist. Just the robe and no panties.
“I know what I want for breakfast.” He slips a hand under the robe, finding and stroking my bare pussy with a barely there, teasing touch.
He picks up a fork and carries some scrambled eggs to my mouth. “Open.”
I open my mouth and let him feed me. After I take a bite, he goes to scoop another forkful. I take advantage of his distraction to shrug out of the robe and let it drop to the floor.
The fork clatters to the plate. “I ever tell you that you’ve got fucking gorgeous tits?”
“Show me.”
His gaze drops between my legs, and I know he wants this as much as I do.
I wiggle on him and feel his growing erection through his jeans. Keno’s eyes go to my breasts as they bounce a little at the motion.
He takes my face and kisses me. It’s passionate, savage, possessive, all the things this man is. When he finally comes up for air, he growls, “I want to take you to bed and eat your pussy all damn day.”
I grin. “You won’t get any argument from me on that one.”
He doesn’t move for a few beats, just studies me. “Don’t have time.”
My shoulders slump, and my smile disappears. “What? You’re leaving?”
“Nope. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s time you practice on the track where the race is going to be held.”
“Rock Creek Raceway?”
“Yup.”
“But that’s all the way in Denver.”
“I know.”
“The trials are tomorrow. I’d planned to drive up for those.”
“All the more reason to go today and get some practice in.”
“Do you really mean it?”
“Yep. I booked us a room at a nearby hotel, so you’ll be fresh tomorrow.” He smacks my ass. “But we’re burnin’ daylight, woman.”
I squeal, give him a big kiss, then jump off him and run to the bedroom to dress.
His laughter follows me down the hall.
It’s a six-hour drive with the pickup and trailer Keno borrows, and we arrive a little after 1:00pm.
We unload the bike, and I get in a few hours track time before I’m exhausted. I know Keno is tired from the drive up here, let alone the hours at the track. I finish my final run and he times me.
When I stop, he clicks off his stopwatch. “Fastest time yet, babe. You’re sure to make the trials tomorrow.”
I’m breathing heavily, staring at him. I want to believe him so badly. “Do you mean that, or are you just saying that?”
He grabs the base of my helmet just under my chin and pulls me toward him until his forehead presses against the helmet. He stares intently into my eyes.
“You’re good, Six. Always have been. You’ve got the skills to do this. You just have to believe it. Now say it.”
“I believe it.”
“And?”
“And I’m going to win that damn race.”
He grins. “There’s my girl. Now let's load up and go get a shower, some food and fuck our brains out. Not necessarily in that order.”
“I need to save my strength,” I tease.
He huffs a laugh. “That’s okay, babe. I’ll do all the work.”
That night, we get a room.
Keno keys the door and we enter. As soon as we’re inside, I move to the windows of our third-floor room. I can see the track across the highway.
The sun in sinking and the riders have disappeared for the day. I spot some in the parking lot, loading their bikes up.
Keno presses against my back, his hands closing over my upper arms. “Worried about tomorrow?”
I shake my head. I’m worried, but not about that. I’ve been wrong to keep the truth from him. He deserves to know that my brothers are in Durango.
If I don’t trust him, how are we going to make this work? We don’t stand a chance.
A man like Keno can’t have a woman who doesn’t believe in him.
It just won’t work. Not a chance in hell.
I know that. So why did I mess everything up by lying to him?
Am I sabotaging my own happiness for some fucked-up reason?
Deep down, do I think I don’t deserve him?
Or do I think I’m not good enough for him, that I will never be enough to make him happy?
Perhaps that isn’t it at all.
Maybe if I’m being honest with myself, I need to admit I’m scared, and a part of me is still all twisted up with him leaving me. And what I’m really afraid of is that he’ll leave me again.
Is this all some fucked-up test I’ve devised in my subconscious mind to see how far I can push him? To see if this time nothing will push him away?
His lips nuzzle my ear. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you right from the beginning.” I turn my head to the side and watch his body language from the corner of my eye.
He lifts his head, shifting his weight. “What is it?”
His voice is colder, all the softness gone.
“I lied to you.”
“About what?”
“Well, maybe not lied. I just didn’t tell you something that you need to know.”
“Then tell me.”
I take a deep breath and pray this doesn’t ruin things between us. “Derek and Remy are in Durango.”
“What?” The word is spoken low and vibrates with condemnation.
I nod.
“When did they—?”
“They’ve been here for about a year. They tracked me down when our father died. They found my address on a birthday card I’d sent him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I know how things ended between you.”
He tugs me around. “Do they know I’m in Durango?”
I nod, my eyes filling with tears.
“You told them?”
“Yes. The morning you walked into my bar.”
“So, you ran straight there to tell them. What’d they say?”
“They were as shocked as I was that you were with the Royal Bastards. Remy was especially pissed to hear you were in town and connected to them.”
“What else did they say?”
“They warned me to stay away from you.”
“Of course they did. Because I’m the bad guy, right?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t think that. Not anymore.”
“But you did?”
“When I saw your cut, I wasn’t sure how much you’d changed or if you were the same Sully I knew.”
“Why keep it a secret? Why not tell me they’re in town?”
“I didn’t want any trouble. I know how things ended and—”
“You don’t have a clue how things ended.”
“We started to spend time together, and I didn’t want them to know because I know they’d flip out.”
“So, you’ve been lying to them, too.”
“Yes. But it’s not just about that. They have no idea I own the Gaslight. They think I just work there.”
“Because they’d fuck that up for you.”
“Exactly,” I confirm in a whisper.
“What are they doing?”
“They’ve opened a garage called Brothers.”
He shakes his head, and his hands land on his hips. He stares out the window, then his eyes return to mine. “I thought we had something, Six. I thought we were building something. But if you don’t trust me, what the fuck am I doing here?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, just strides toward the bathroom, yanking his shirt off and tossing it on the bed on his way.
The door slams, and a moment later I hear the shower come on.
In a daze, I sit on the bed, tears rolling down my cheeks because I’ve fucked everything up before we even had a chance. Pulling my boots off, I strip out of my riding clothes.
I sit on the bed in my bra and panties, guilt swamping over me.
Keno has done so much for me, and I’ve been lying to him this whole time.
Moving to the bathroom, I hesitate.
Laying my palm on the door, I press my forehead to the wood, and it all swamps over me. I have to stop doing this to myself, stop doing this to us, stop sabotaging any shot we have. Somehow, I have to make this right.
I take a deep breath, and my hand closes over the knob.
The room is already filled with steam.
I pull my bra and panties off, dropping them to the floor, and open the glass door of the shower stall.
He has his back to me, his palms high on the tile, his head dipped as the water pounds down on his shoulders. But he must hear the door open, or he feels the cooler air roll over him, for his head turns to the side, and I know he sees me in his peripheral vision.
Still, he doesn’t move. He just stands there, motionless, perhaps waiting to see what I’ll do.
I lightly touch my palm between his shoulder blades and gently stroke toward his neck. Still, he’s unmoving, so I step closer, pressing my smaller body against his, my arms encircling his waist and my lips brushing a kiss to his back.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Sorry doesn’t always cut it, Six.”
“I was wrong, so wrong. I should never have lied to you. I was afraid.”
“Of me?” At that, his palms slid from the tile, and he faces me.
I shake my head. “Just afraid. Afraid to be vulnerable. Afraid to be hurt again.”
“That what you think I’ll do?”
I shrug. “Not intentionally.”
He grabs my face and pushes my back against the tile, boxing me in. “Why can’t you trust me, Six? What do I have to do to prove it to you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
I watch his jaw tick. “This about New Orleans? Do you know how many times I’ve wished I never left you?”
“But you did.”
“I should have taken you with me.”
“I wish you had.”
“We can’t go back. All we have is here and now. If this is gonna work… if you want me to trust you, start trusting me, Six. Start telling me the truth. All of it.”
I nod.
We stare at each other for a long moment, and then he whirls me around to face the wall, moving in against my body. My hands press against the wet tile as he dips his head to me. His mouth is at my ear, and his hands close over my hips.
“I’m still pissed at you. That’s gonna take a while to work through.
You understand?” He squeezes his hands, pulling me back, and I feel his erection, big and hard, pressing against my hip.
And I understand completely. And I’m okay with that.
More than okay. I rub the side of my face against his jaw, and my ass rubs up against him, and I spread my legs.
“I’m not gonna be gentle,” he warns unnecessarily.
I nod. “Okay.”
“You gonna let me take what I want, however I want to take it?”
I nod again. “Yes.”
One hand slips around me, and I feel his fingers slide between my legs to separate my folds, opening me to his strokes. It brings me up on my toes, and my head drops. Suddenly, his other hand is in my hair, fisting, pulling my head up as two fingers thrust inside me.
I gasp.
“You ready for me?” he asks as he strokes, searching and finding that spot that drives me wild.
“Yes,” I pant, quivering from what he’s doing to me with those fingers. “Always.”
“Good fucking answer,” he growls, pulling his fingers out, and then replacing them with his dick, burying himself to the hilt in one deep stroke that has me sucking in a deep breath, tottering on my toes.
One arm locks around my ribs to hold me immobile, while his other hand buries in my hair, twists my head, and brings my mouth to his. His lips slam down over mine, stealing what little breath I have left.
And then both arms lock around my hips, and he’s lifting me, ordering, “Wrap your legs around me, hands on the wall.”
I press my hands to the wall, my heels hooking around his ass, my position almost horizontal as he holds me tight and begins pounding into me from behind.
He goes deep, deeper than before, pounding into me until I know my inner thighs will be bruised.
He tightens one arm and releases me with the other so he can put his hand to the wall and hold us both up.
It isn’t long before he’s grunting. “Fuck.”
And then he pushes me flat against the wall, the tiles cold against my breasts as he slams into me one last time to groan out loud as he comes inside me.
His breathing is heavy as he jerks once, twice more, and then his muscles go limp and he slides me to my feet, pressing us both to the wall in exhaustion.
After a moment, he pulls me under the shower spray, soaping my body tenderly, without speaking a word the entire time.
While he says no words of love or tenderness, the way he touches me communicates to me he cares about me, and that his feelings run deep, perhaps even more so than words ever could.