Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Kolter
“Wake up, fucker!”
Those are the only words I hear before what feels like a goddamn elephant lands on me.
I groan as I shove the person off me, causing them to crash to the floor, and slowly peel my eyes open.
I ended up crashing at the clubhouse last night because I spent half the night circling Naomi’s fucking block.
I knew she was safe; I knew that scumbag piece of shit from the club wasn’t a threat, so I didn’t stay close for her safety, like I usually do. No, this time, I stayed nearby because all I could think about was stomping up to her room, spreading her legs and sinking into her.
I circled that goddamn block until my arms were shaking from steering the bike.
I wipe the sleep from my eyes and sigh. I wish I’d never gone to that club.
It’s caused nothing but issues. Thoughts, desires, memories…
everything I’ve been so desperate to escape.
Everything I carefully tucked away in a box and shoved to the far recesses of my mind.
They’re all better off without me in their life, especially her.
I know that—I get that. So I’m having trouble understanding just what the fuck I’m doing.
Ace hauls himself up off the ground, grimacing as he rubs the back of his head. “Christ, Blade. You’re not very friendly in the morning. No wonder you can’t keep a woman for longer than two minutes.”
“No need for a woman past then,” I scoff as I swing my legs round to the side of the bed and stand up.
Ace chuckles. “One day a good one is gonna come out of nowhere and knock you on your ass, and I’m gonna laugh the entire goddamn time.”
I lift a challenging brow. “Want a bet on that?”
His face lights up with a grin. My friend, the perpetual gambler, can never turn down a bet.
“Hell yeah. Hm, let’s see,” he says as he strokes his chin with his finger. “If you make a woman your old lady by next Christmas, you owe me the Ducati.”
“Fuck no,” I spit. That thing is my baby. I have over a dozen bikes, but that one, absolutely not.
He smirks. “Come on. You’re the one who hates women—this should be easy for you.”
“If you lose, you’re going to wash and polish it, weekly, until the end of time.”
Ace balks at that. “I’m not sure those are fair terms.”
“Who said they had to be fair?” I toss over my shoulder as I head for one of the bathrooms.
“Fuck, fine. I’m telling you, man. Your day of reckoning is coming, and I’m gonna look so good on the back of my new bike.”
I roll my eyes, then head into the bathroom and start up the shower.
The hot water hits a tender spot on the back of my head, and I duck out of it for a moment before remembering where that came from.
Last week, I got into a bar fight with another MC.
Well, technically we all did. Some punk came up behind me and broke a bottle over the back of my head, but I stomped his teeth in, so really it was an eye for an eye and all that.
I can still hear Ace hooting and hollering down the hall, and it makes me sigh.
I honestly don’t know why I put up with him sometimes.
I also don’t know why I took the stupid bet.
I mean, it’s not like I think even for a second that I’m gonna lose.
There’s only one woman I’ve ever looked at in that way, and not only would it be wrong in the eyes of, well, everyone, she’s the one person in the world I’d never involve in club business. Problem solved—insurance.
It still pisses me the fuck off that she got all dressed up—or in her case dressed down—and went out by herself last night.
If I hadn’t been watching over her, I don’t even wanna think about what could have happened.
She’s so goddamn reckless, so glass half full when we live in a twisted and fucked-up world.
She doesn’t see it, though. Like an angel amongst us, she doesn’t have a clue.
My cock twitches at the thought of her, the way that dress hugged every curve just right.
The way her grey eyes shone the entire night.
I’ve thought about taking her out for rides a lot in the past, but nothing could have prepared me for feeling her tight body pressed against my back, her arms clinging to me like I was her fucking lifeline.
Again, my cock jerks, and I grab hold of it, attempting to stop it. When I close my eyes, though, I see her, and I stroke my hand down my cock before sliding it back up. Fuck it. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to the real thing.
Slowly, I begin working my cock, thinking over every little detail of her last night.
If I was just a slightly worse man, I would have followed her up into that room and taken her the way I’ve always desired.
Is it fucked up to have dreamed of taking your adopted sister’s virginity?
Probably, though I never claimed to be holy.
She swallowed my cock so well in that club, and I’m desperate for that feeling again—her warm tongue wrapping around my head while I bury my hands in her golden hair.
I’d let her set the speed at first, but by the end, I’d be fucking her face, and though she’d be choking on it, she’d love it even more than I would.
She’s a good girl, and good girls are always the best at getting dirty.
I feel my orgasm beginning to approach, so I stroke my cock faster and faster, imagining my hand is hers.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Peaches,” I moan, and then I’m falling over the edge.
Wave after wave of pleasure slams into me as I grip the wall with my free hand to keep myself upright.
Once my orgasm has passed, though, guilt settles over me. I shouldn’t have done that. I thought it would help, get her out of my system. Instead, I want her more than ever.
FUCK.