Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
KING
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a new text from the prospect, Wackie, who is guarding the front gate today.
WACKIE: YOUR BAKER IS HERE.
My tongue peeks out and slides across my bottom lip before I sink my teeth into the corner and let out a grunt.
I know he’s let her into the compound, so I wait a few moments before I make my way outside the clubhouse.
So I can show her where to set up her cupcakes and maybe where to sit on my dick.
I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind for days. Every fuck that I’ve had since I met her has been lackluster, and I’ve tried my hardest to make them exciting, but I’m not into it. No matter what or how I do any of it, it’s like watching paint dry, and it should not feel that way.
I’ve never felt this way before, never thought about a woman like this before, and I can’t stop. Every fucking minute of every goddamn day, this bitch has consumed me. I need to fuck her so I can get past her, get over her, whatever the fuck you want to call it.
Right now, it’s just a fantasy, so I need to make it a reality. That way, it won’t be a big deal anymore. That’s it. That’s what it is. Fucking her is a fantasy, and I need to get rid of that fantasy so I can go back to my regular life.
I reach for the front door of the clubhouse, tug it open, and step outside just as a pickup truck pulls up to the front. There is a man driving, and I can’t stop the initial rage that flows through me at the sight of him with her.
I have never wanted to pull a complete stranger out of a vehicle and beat the absolute shit out of him the way I want this man. He gets out of the truck but doesn’t immediately move to the back seat, where I can see her sitting in the middle of the bench surrounded by pink boxes.
“Got a cupcake delivery,” he announces.
I don’t see him with a single fucking cupcake in his hand. Instead, he stands in front of me like he expects me to say or do something for him. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tilt my head to the side and stare at him. I’m not sure what he wants from me, but I’ll wait.
He stares at me wordlessly in a silent challenge. I don’t have the time for jackasses like him, so I chuckle, and I shake my head once before I step around him and head toward the back of the truck.
Opening the door, I look around the stack of bakery boxes to find her sitting in the middle.
“You need some help, babe?” I ask.
She turns to me, her eyes wide and so fucking innocent, sweet perfection. “I would love some help,” she whispers. “But you don’t have to. I can get out now that the door is open. I can just crawl.”
I imagine her crawling for a brief moment, but in my vision, she’s completely fucking naked and crawling toward me. Clearing my throat, I shake the thought from my head.
“No, I got this. Although, that guy with you is fuckin’ useless,” I grunt as I reach for a stack of five boxes.
I pick them up off the seat, take a couple of steps backward, and look around them as I watch her move across the seat.
Once she’s got her feet on the ground, she turns away from me and bends over, grabbing some boxes from somewhere in the truck.
I have no clue where she gets them from because my eyes are focused on her sweet ass and nowhere else.
She turns around, two boxes in her hands, and gives me a smile. “Where to?” she asks.
With a grunt, I turn from her and head straight for the clubhouse. The loser with her finally does something productive and opens the door for us. There are a couple of six-foot-long banquet tables set up against a wall where these cupcakes are going to be set up and hopefully consumed.
I set my stack of cupcakes on the end of the table, and she places hers down next to mine then turns to leave. I reach out and wrap my hand around her bicep, feeling her soft and frail arm beneath my grasp. She’s small. I could fucking hurt her. I’m not used to that.
The clubwhores here aren’t frail by any means. They aren’t slight creatures. They are strong, firm everywhere, hard even, and could hold their own if need be. I’ve seen them do it, too. This isn’t the same. She’s soft and fragile.
“Stay here,” I grunt. “I’ll get the rest.”
“But it’s my job,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes wide and fucking shimmering with innocence as she stares up at me. I imagine them looking similarly when she’s sucking my dick.
Goddamn, I want to fuck her.
Searching her gaze with mine, I clear my throat and take a step backward. “I’ll get them. You stay here and get set up.”
She nods her head, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip before she spins around, and I watch her ass walk away from me. I don’t know who the fuck the guy with her is, but he’s not leaving with her. In fact, she’s not leaving here until I’ve had her in my bed.
My decision has been made.
SHAWN
I’m finding it very hard to concentrate on arranging the table.
I find it difficult because King watches me.
I can feel his gaze on me. It hasn’t shifted once since I got here.
My god, I forgot how hot he is. No, that’s not right.
I didn’t forget, but I am far more affected than I thought I would be.
This is my third time seeing him, and I’m more flustered than I was last time.
I try to focus on setting up my cupcakes, but I am so unnerved my hands are trembling.
Maybe it’s because I’m in his domain, whatever this place is.
I’ve been trying not to look around too much.
I can feel people’s eyes on me, but none sear my skin the way his do.
The music grows louder as I continue to set things up.
The people do, too, or there are just more of them.
I’m not sure. I’m trying not to look around, trying not to make eye contact with anyone and just focus on my cupcakes, but as the music shifts, I can’t help but wonder exactly where I am and if maybe I shouldn’t be here.
Straightening my spine, I take in the table one last time before I spin around. When I do, I’m face to face with a gigantic man who is not only tall but packed with muscle. He’s massive. He looks down at me, his face set, and then his lips slowly curve up into a smile.
“I hear your cupcakes are the shit,” he says gruffly.
My lips twitch into a small smile, and I dip my chin. “I like to think they’re good,” I say, my voice barely loud enough to be heard over the music.
He takes a step forward, and my breath hitches, but it’s not because he takes the step forward. It’s because my eyes land on the patch on his chest. I haven’t been paying attention to my surroundings. I haven’t looked at any of the leather jackets around me, but I see it now.
Dark Horse MC
Oh. My. God.
I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before. I’ve been so mesmerized by King’s extreme hotness I wasn’t sure it was even real. I’ve never even seen these guys around, but I’ve heard rumors, and now I know they’re real.
Holy shit.
I’m not sure what to say, so I don’t say anything. He grabs a cupcake off the table and straightens. When he does, I force my eyes upward to meet his and try not to stare at the patch on his vest or anything else that’s happening around me.
I need to leave.
Then I realize why Stetson had been so damn excited about bringing me here. It wasn’t to help me. It’s because he knew where that address led. He wanted to see what this was about. He wanted a chance to be part of this. He wanted to party.
Jesus.
My fucking brother.
The man in front of me shoves the whole cupcake in his mouth, chewing it three times before he swallows, and I can’t help but laugh. He arches a brow, and I wonder if anyone has ever laughed at him before.
“Did you even taste it?” I ask.
He grins at me. “Yeah, cupcake, I did. It was the shit, just like King said it would be.”
Before I can say another word, he clears his throat, his eyes searching my own, and then a presence appears at my side, and I turn slowly to face it. That presence is King. He isn’t looking at me, though. He’s staring straight ahead at the man who has been talking to me.
“You got somewhere to be, Clink?”
The man grins, then shakes his head before he turns and walks away, lifting his hand in the air and flipping us the bird.
“Let me get you paid. Why don’t you come into my room? I’ll get you your money.”
I think about telling him no, wondering why he would want me in his room, but then I decide that I need to get paid, and he’s been nothing but professional. He gave me this job and said that he wanted to pay me more than I asked for. It seems too good to be true. Maybe it is.
Following behind him, I move through the room, keeping my gaze on the backs of his legs, watching them move, one foot in front of the other. He turns down a dark hallway, and like a lamb to the slaughter, I follow him.
My breaths begin to come out in pants. I’m such an idiot. He moves into a room, and I take two steps inside before I stop. Only then do I lift my eyes from the floor upward. When I do, I’m glad that I haven’t taken more than just a few steps inside because this room is gross.
It doesn’t smell, but it’s a disaster. Beer bottles, cans, clothes strewn everywhere. I’m not the best housekeeper on the planet, but my apartment floors are at least picked up.
King walks over to a small dresser, and I watch as he tugs open one of the drawers. He pushes some things around inside, then straightens and turns around to face me. His eyes find mine, and then something happens. The expression on his face changes.
It’s not humorous. I’m not exactly sure what it is.
Maybe it’s sexy. I haven’t really had much experience with sexy in my life.
I’m not sexy, and nobody sexy has ever wanted anything to do with me.
I just don’t know how I’m breathing standing in front of this man.
How am I breathing and not completely expired?
“I know you said three bucks a cupcake, but you came all this way, and whoever that is out there drove you. I have five for you.”
“That’s too much,” I whisper.
He shakes his head once, then shoves the money toward me. “It’s not,” he rasps.
God. He’s beautiful. Seriously.
My gaze slides across his chest, and I see the Dark Horse MC patch. He’s one of them, too. I didn’t realize it the other times because I was too focused on looking at his face and his body. Studying the jacket he wears was not a priority.
I reach out and take the money from him, my fingers sliding against the back of his palm. He’s warm, his hand strong, and I wonder if a man like him could ever be into someone like me.
I mean, I’m sure I’m too young and immature for him. I definitely don’t have my shit together, but maybe one day, someone like him, sexy and strong, could want a hot-mess baker.
“Shawn.”
He’s never said my name before. I didn’t even realize he knew it. Shoving the money into my back pocket, I clear my throat. “King,” I whisper.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his eyes holding mine as he moves a little closer.
He doesn’t say anything else as he closes the distance between us. I can’t help but feel as if he’s stalking toward me. When he stops just a few inches away from me, he lifts his hand and slides the back of his fingers down my cheek.
“I like the way you say my name,” he grunts.
I open my mouth but snap it closed because I don’t know what to say. Sucking in a breath, I hold it for a moment, then let it out slowly. “King,” I repeat, but it’s on a whimper.
He touches me. Then he leans down, and I feel his lips touch mine. A whisper of a kiss makes my whole body freeze.
“You do,” he murmurs against my mouth as he lifts his head, his gaze searching mine and his lips pulling up in the corners.
“What?” I ask.
“Taste just as fucking sweet as you look.”