Marlena 11.
Cuddling isn’t talked about enough. It’s mocked, overlooked, forgotten. But a good cuddle with a solid man who smells divine, his fingers running through your hair, his broad chest rising as he breathes me in is something that should be shouted from rooftops, displayed on billboards, all cap posts!
I can’t even believe this is my life right now. I’ve crushed on Elazar from afar for over three years. He’s younger, yes, but intelligent, worldly, mature…well, as mature as this group ever gets. For him to feel the same is unreal.
And yet, here I am wrapped up in his thick muscular arms on one of the couches in the clubroom watching Rowan quietly lose his shit. I almost feel bad for him but my love of people watching is keeping me from acting on it.
A warm breath ghosts across the shell of my ear, a deep voice burrowing into my brain and frying it for a second. “What’s so fascinating, sweetheart?”
“That.” I nod at the erotic scene playing out on the other side of the room, Heimdall leaning against the wall, pool cue in hand, as Steve gives a porn worthy performance of fellatio on his knees in front of him. Czar growls, his large hand on my chin directing my eyes away from the spectacle. I giggle at his Neanderthal reaction. “Not that, exactly. Him.” I point my finger at Rowan then to the knob slobbering.
“What about him?” Czar’s voice is only slightly gravelly now that he knows I’m not a voyeur.
“You can’t be that blind.” I arch my neck to look at Czar, his head tilts as he examines Rowan. “The prospect has it bad for the Hospitality Specialist.” He hums noncommittally. I sit up quickly, apologizing when I elbow him in the sternum in my haste. “Is that allowed?”
“What?”
I roll my eyes, which he finds hilarious for some reason. “Talking to men is worse than tweezing those random chin hairs that refuse to die.”
“Chin hair?” He pushes into me, forcing me to lean back against the couch, his eyes centimeters from my chin.
“Stop that!” Laughing, I push him back and he allows it, God knows I’m not strong enough to move the man if he doesn’t want to. “I mean, are prospects allowed to sample the Hospitality Specialists? Or do they have to wait until they’re patched? And can a Hospitality Specialist be claimed as an ol’ partner?” I suddenly remember bits and pieces of Motorcycle Club romances I’ve read over the years, and they all differ.
“I don’t know, actually. Back home, we didn’t have kutte sluts because of the attached shelter. Dad and the others decided to separate their sex lives from the club and the shelter for security reasons. I’ll have to ask Jupiter, perhaps a vote for the club. I don’t think claiming one is common, though, and certainly not a male one.”
Burying my face in his chest, I laugh so hard tears run down my cheeks and dampen his t-shirt. His chest rumbles beneath me but he makes an inquisitive sound, so I get myself together long enough to tell him, “The GGMC is like the red headed stepchild of the motorcycle club family.”
“We march to the beat of our own oboe.” His phone chimes and I don’t like the scowl that overtakes his handsome face. He looks severe now, formidable, and pissed. Still super-hot though.
“Elazar?” I ask when he grinds his jaw, his thumb scrolling through whatever he’s reading.
“Sorry, sweetheart, it’s military stuff.” I swallow hard at the ugly reminder that he’s leaving tomorrow. Two weeks is not enough time together, I don’t think two lifetimes would be enough, but for him to be here and then gone for months…pregnancy hormones or not, this is harder than I thought it would be. He pats my hip, “I gotta talk to Jupiter, give me a few minutes.” I nod, press a quick kiss to his stubbled cheek, then slide off the couch so he can get up.
“Pres! Drusilla, put that away!”
“Soldier boy, mama is getting hers, mind ya business!” I’ve been living in ignorant bliss for the last little while, knowing that Drusilla, Jupiter, and Fanny were up to something behind us. I refuse to turn around and find out what Czar has interrupted.
“Never refer to yourself as ‘mama’ again!” Czar yells back.
“A little busy, brother.” Jupiter’s voice is all the evidence I need to know they are engaging in strenuous sexual activity.
“Article 15.” There is a beat of tense silence following Czar’s words.
“MOTHERFUCKER!” Jupiter roars, Fanny and Dru screaming their own release and then Heimdall sounds his pleasure horn and it’s just a pornographic symphony and I’m afraid to move for fear of triggering someone else’s climax. “SYNAGOGUE!” For a second, I think Jupiter is cumming again, but then the word registers.
“Elazar?” I whisper, my heart beating rapidly as I watch every club brother in attendance scowl and stomp down the hall to the meeting room they use for synagogue. He cups my face, his eyes darting between mine before leaning down and kissing me softly on the lips.
“I’ll explain as much as I can later, ok?” I nod, biting my bottom lip to keep from pulling him back to me.
“Did you try that cinnamon I gave you?” The oddity of the question causes me to snap around to look at Drusilla. She’s pulling up her pregnancy pants talking to Fanny, who is redressing as well.
“I did!” Fanny replies enthusiastically.
Dru uses her hand to wipe around her mouth and I grimace when I notice the sheen on her lips. “Good girl. Tasted phenomenal today.” Dru struts past Fanny, slaps her ass with a wink and disappears down the hallway.
My life is weird. And wonderful.
“Marlena?”
“Hey, Dungarees.” The prospect stands in front of me, points at the couch and then sits when I wave my hand at it.
“Czar will no doubt explain more later, but I saw your confusion and worry. Article 15 is an official punishment in the Army given by your Commanding Officer instead of a military tribunal and court-martial.”
“That…does not make me feel better at all.” I smile weakly at him.
“Sorry. Uh…it’s used for minor offenses.”
“But…” I glance at the opening of the hallway as if I can see Czar through the walls. “It’s Czar. He didn’t do anything wrong.” I know we’re still getting to know each other, but I know that for sure. He’s a dedicated soldier and a good man.
Dungarees nods, patting me on the shoulder as he stands. “Jupiter and the others will sort it out for him, don’t worry.”
“It’s the military though. Jupiter is retired, what could he do?”
Dungarees laughs, his head tipped back. “Never underestimate a papa bear when his cubs are threatened.”