9. Butch
CHAPTER NINE
BUTCH
“ A bout time you brought your fine ass in here,” Candy teases with a flirty glance over her shoulder, giving me those bedroom eyes I love. “I was thinking you changed your mind.”
Change my mind about steamy shower time with a goddess? Not a chance.
Change my mind about bringing up the marriage license? Fucking, yes.
The idea of broaching the marriage to Candy, not knowing if she remembers it, has me clamming up. Beads of sweat surface around the base of my neck, trickling down my back as I consider how to confront her.
Candy must see the change in my mood from the happy-go-lucky fool in the bedroom to the queasy coward in the bathroom. She whirls around to face me head-on, worry etching her forehead with thin lines. She hurries over to me, placing her soft hand on my forehead.
“Are you okay? You look a little green.”
I grimace, fighting a wave of nausea.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I swallow a baseball-sized lump of dread from my throat. The more I contemplate addressing Candy about our marriage, the more I realize this isn’t a conversation to rush. It would be best to feel her out, carefully asking questions from what she recalls the night before. “I’m…hungover.”
Yeah, that sounds reasonable. Probably because I am hungover. I’m not lying. I never want to lie to my woman.
Omitting the truth isn’t lying, right?
“Oh, no,” Candy coos, running her hand from my forehead down to cup my scruffy cheek. “Do you think you’re going to be sick? Do you want me to grab you some water and Tylenol? Or a cold compress for your head?”
This woman and her sweetness will go to my head. Candy isn’t exactly the nurturing type. Probably because most of her life, she’s been in hostile situations where she couldn’t afford to care about anyone but herself. As much as I’ve watched her, I know she’s not been this kind to any of the other guys in the crew, and rarely with the other women in the club.
The fact that she’s coddling my sorry ass is not lost on me. It means I mean something to her. And fuck if that doesn’t make my heart squeeze in my chest like a warm hug.
Despite my uneasiness, I can’t help smiling as I place my hand over hers.
“Thank you for worrying about me. I’ll survive.”
I glance at my wristwatch and frown. Our deadline to meet the team is fast approaching. Steamy shower time will have to take a rain check. After the glorious sex-filled night with Candy, a quickie will be a cheap alternative. I don’t want cheap with Candy. She’s had to settle for cheap all her life. No more. Not with me.
“We should take a quick shower. We don’t have long before we have to meet the team in the lobby.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could recant them. Candy’s pretty cupid lips turn down in pouty disappointment. The last thing I want to do is disappoint her. I’m torn between saying fuck it and having the team wait for us or following orders to return home for the assignment.
Before I can decide either way, Candy turns to the shower. She releases a long sigh of resignation, along with the towel she held around her ample tits. The towel drops soundlessly to the floor, revealing my naked goddess in all her sinfully sexy glory. Lean legs, tight curves, and two thumb-grip dimples right above her firm ass greet me.
My brain goes haywire, and my dick takes over, going from flaccid to rock hard in record time. It’s ridiculous how little control I have of my body when I’m around this woman. I run my hands down my face, groaning in irritation.
“Not fair, Goddess. I can’t worship you the way you deserve in the time we have.”
Candy turns to face me, giving me a taunting shake of her chest before stepping into the shower. “Who said I played fair?”
My dick takes the lead, directing me right into the shower behind her. Candy stands under the spray of the shower nozzle, hot water cascading over her precious head and luscious body. Her creamy skin turns pink under the hot water and her perfectly round breasts sway as she runs shampoo through her wet hair. Hypnotized, all I can do is gawk at the beautiful sight before me.
“It’s rude to gape at a naked woman,” she chides with a teasing smile, catching me watching her.
“I can’t help it,” I admit shamelessly as I continue to drink her in. “You’re stunning.”
My brain yells at me to stop thinking with my dick and ask her about last night. Yet, standing in front of her in the shower with her sudsy body glistening… fuuuck .
Unable to resist Candy’s tempting body, I close the short distance between us. My arms wrap around her narrow waist. “I wish we had more time.”
“We could have been getting it on, but someone had to take his sweet time in the bedroom,” she huffs, eyeing me accusingly.
Yeah, it’s my fault I’m going to have blue balls all the way back to Colorado. Then again, I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t be panicking finding their name on a marriage certificate they can’t recall signing.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, leaning in to graze my lips over her shoulder before laying a gentle kiss on her wet skin. This close to her, it’s hard to think straight. I’ve got one thing on my mind, and it involves sinking balls deep into Candy’s suction-tight heaven. “Fuck Chase and his schedule.”
Candy snorts, shoving the shampoo into my open hand. “Nope. You had your chance to get freaky in the shower. Behave and wash.”
Sexually flustered, I growl to myself as I obey her orders.
Laughing at my impatience, she says, “Delayed gratification will teach you not to waste our fun time.”
“Didn’t we already do the delayed gratification process? Like, a year’s worth?”
She raises a brow at my snarky remark. “Someone is sassy this morning.”
“I’m not usually a brat. You bring it out of me,” I admit, with a smirk. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll take a slap on the ass for being mouthy with you.”
Something I said makes Candy cock her head at me. Her brow creases in concentration.
“So this…” she waves a hand between us, “…reverse control thing, is your kink?”
This isn’t the conversation we need to have with more pressing issues at hand. Yet after what we shared in the bedroom last night, it’s important to explain my sexual preferences.
“Submitting is my kink. And I want you to be the one calling the shots behind closed doors.”
She balks. “Why?”
“You know what my job is like—full control all the time. Same goes for being a biker in the club. The responsibility can be daunting. For this one thing in my life, I don’t want to think or lead. I want someone else telling me what to do. And dare I say, I believe you need to be in control in the bedroom to feel secure enough to relax with your partner to enjoy it.”
Her mouth falls open in a perfect O , making my cock jump between us.
“You give me what I want, and I give you what you need. We belong together. Don’t you see it?”
Speechless, Candy looks at me with awe in her big brown eyes and water droplets hanging from her long blond lashes. She’s so damn beautiful. My heart aches to be closer to her.
“Can I kiss your sweet mouth, Goddess?” I all but beg, eager to have her lips against mine.
Candy blinks a few times, looking at me like the words I’m saying are foreign. “Why are you asking me?”
Her question confuses me. “Why would I not?”
“Most guys would just do it. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t.” She shrugs before looking away from me, biting her plump bottom lip.
The mention of other men has a low growl rumbling through my chest. I squash my jealousy down, focusing on Candy. She needs my support.
Sensing Candy’s discomfort, I tenderly turn her face back to mine. She needs to see I’m a safe person. After a year, I hoped she knew I’d never take advantage of her. However, all Candy has known are men who take. Why would she expect differently from me?
Reassure her, asshat.
“No, Candy. I won’t be taking anything from you without asking first.”
Uncertainty consumes my woman as her eyes dart between mine, looking for a lie that isn’t there.
“I mean it, Goddess. Nothing sexual happens without your permission.”
My words hit home. Candy tears up. Her arms swathe around my neck, pulling me close to her. I sink into her touch, wrapping my arms around her to hug her as tightly as she’s hugging me. It feels like everything I need. It feels like home.
“Thank you,” she whispers through her tears.
“Nothing to thank me for, sweetness.”
We hold each other a while longer before separating to finish bathing. I’m toweling off, trying to find the right words to ask what she recalls from last night.
After some deliberation, I decide to be direct. “Candy, what do you recall from last night?”
She smiles at her reflection in the mirror as she runs a comb through her wet pink hair. “Every hot minute.”
I worry my bottom lip, unsatisfied with her answer.
“Every minute, or just the stuff in the bedroom?”
She tosses her comb on the bathroom counter, placing her hand on her hip as she turns her focus on me. “Is this your way of trying to get a refresher of last night or something? We already agreed there’s no time for sex this morning.”
As much as I’d love to reenact last night’s events, I need to know if she knows we’re married. “Do you remember anything before returning to the room last night?”
Candy shrugs. “Not really.”
My stomach sinks like a submarine.
“Oh!” Her eyes brighten like she recalls something. Her smile broadens.
My hope is restored. She remembers. I’m sure of it. “You remember?”
“Before coming back to our room? No. But I recall this whacked dream I had.”
Again, my stomach drops. This roller coaster of emotions is not something I’m used to. It takes everything in me not to let my disappointment surface.
“Listen to this. We got married—like in one of those chapels on the strip. Just like Chase and Simone did. But it gets better. My ring was a Ring Pop. How weird is that? ”
It feels like a gallon of ice water has been dumped over my head. My insides go tense, and I freeze on the spot.
“I mean, who gets married with a Ring Pop?” Candy snickers, shaking her head.
We did.
She thinks our wedding was a dream. I guess I understand it. But how the hell do I tell her it was real?
I’m busy gnawing the inside of my cheek raw when Candy looks at me. Her laughter dies. “Butch, take it easy. It was only a dream.”
No, it wasn’t. It’s real. You’re my wife. Mine!
I force a lump of dread down my throat, fighting to get my tongue working to explain our reality as a married couple. For the life of me, I can’t force myself to speak.
She scans my face, her lips pursing, like she’s growing concerned with my lack of response. “You don’t need to look so horrified. It’s not like we’re actually married.”
But we are. And I’m not frightened of being married to you. I’m panicking about how you’ll react when you realize you’re married to me.
Candy looks away from me, twisting a lock of wet hair in her fingers. “The whole thing is stupid. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”
I open my mouth to tell her none of it is stupid when we’re interrupted by a loud banging on the hotel bedroom door.
“Open up, fuckers,” Punk shouts on the other side of the door. “We need to hit the road, and you guys are holding up the caravan.”
Dammit, Punk. His timing could not suck more.
Candy rolls her eyes, obviously thinking the same thing. Clutching the towel wrapped around her body, she marches to the door. Annoyance oozes from her like a layer of ozone.
Broken by the shock of Candy revealing her dream, I hurriedly chase after her. There’s no telling what kind of trouble Punk is in for with an angry Candy coming for him.
I’m not fast enough. Candy reaches the door before I do, swinging it open with an aggravated huff. Punk stands on the other side, fully tatted and looking every bit the part of a biker punk. His eyebrows rise when he sees Candy’s towel-covered body and miffed expression.
“I know it’s in your nature to be a pushy asshole. But you and the team can wait until we’re ready, or else.”
“Or else what?” Punk asks, bewildered.
“Or else Butch and I will leave the hotel naked, and you impatient dickheads will have to deal with the idiots on the highway following us.”
Punk snorts. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wanna bet?” she asks, with a challenge in her voice.
Shocked, my biker brother looks at me, then Candy, and back to me. “Is she playing?”
I shake my head. “Don’t take the bet, Punk. She likes a good dare.”
Candy snaps her fingers in Punk’s face, demanding his attention. His eyes snap back to her, wide and alert.
“We’ll be down in the lobby in fifteen. Now piss off.” Candy slams the door in Punk’s astounded face and returns to the bathroom, muttering to herself like she does when she’s upset.
I follow her to the bathroom, hesitant to return to our conversation. “Candy?—”
“No time to talk, biker boy. We have to finish getting ready before someone else from the team comes to give us grief. And as glorious as the two of us naked together is, I don’t want us riding in our birthday suits.”
She’s right. The clock is ticking. This is not the time to drop the marriage bomb. It’ll need to wait until our return to Fort Collins.
With a resigned sigh, I finish getting ready, all the while my stomach churning with anxiety. We can’t get home fast enough.