Chapter Three
K endrick brushed his thumb over his lips, knowing he had some of Sutton’s lipstick on them. If he could, he’d wear the shit all night long like a badge of honor. However, he didn’t think Jeter would appreciate him walking around with it on his lips all night.
“Here, let me help you.” Sutton brought her napkin up, wiping gently over his mouth.
“You could always use your tongue,” he half-joked.
“I feel that would lead to us doing more of what caused the mess.” Her laughter eased the knot in his gut. He worried she’d be embarrassed about him kissing her in public. Of course, the MC clubhouse wasn’t where he’d be worried about public displays of affection. Hell, a little kissing was tame compared to what he was sure went on there.
He tilted his head back, relieved she wasn’t pissed.
“I’m twenty-nine. I’ll be thirty in November.”
“Yeah? You planning a big dirty thirty party?” He waggled his eyebrows up and down.
She let out a sultry laugh. “Not just no, but hell no. I hate being the center of attention for one, and honestly, the thought of celebrating turning another year older just doesn’t do it for me.”
“Hmm, it appears we have those two things in common.” He shook his head, amazed at how much she fascinated him. Most women and men love parties, especially big celebrations aimed at them.
A loud whistle interrupted them. “They’re here, finally.”
Lights dimmed as a spotlight moved to the entrance. His brother and Vittoria entered wearing big smiles. Jeter’s jacket was missing, and his new sister-in-law’s hair cascaded down her back, looking slightly windblown. From their changed appearances, the two of them had been up to something.
Kendrick drank a few drinks throughout the night, knowing a driver was taking him back to his rental. The love between Jeter and Vittoria made him hyperaware of what he’d been missing. Taysey standing him up at the altar hadn’t angered him, which should’ve been a huge red flag.
“What’s put that frown on your face, brother?”
Jeter’s words startled him. Kendrick ran a hand down his face, inhaled deeply, and tried to pull his head out of his ass. “I’m fucking old, man. Life is flashing by in the blink of an eye. I’ll be a guncle in no time,” he growled.
His brother’s brow pinched together. “I’m going to regret it, but I gotta ask what the fuck a guncle is.”
“A man who is old enough to be a grandfather but he’s an uncle, yet he’s not a father because he was too stupid to settle down and find himself a wife. Hence a guncle.”
Jeter laughed, and to his dismay, Vittoria joined him. “See, now the two of you are laughing at me. You’ll be off making babies, and they’ll be calling me Guncle Kendrick.”
Vittoria sputtered, liquid flying from her lips. She started coughing, and Jeter patted her on the back. However, they both were still laughing at his expense. Assholes.
“Okay, stop it. Kendrick, I fucking love you. I want to lead with that first. You know, so you don’t shoot me.” Vittoria held her hand up, tears of mirth making her eyes shine. “My children, or rather our children, won’t be allowed to call you that unless you tell them it’s okay. But—please tell me you’re good with it because that’s priceless.”
Kendrick didn’t find himself speechless often. Hell, he could be balls deep in a woman, with another riding his hand or face, and still be able to formulate coherent words if asked a question.
“Jeter, get your woman in hand.” He dodged the napkin Vittoria tossed at him. It felt good to laugh and joke with family.
“I’m told the bride is needed up here to toss her bouquet, and then the groom will do whatever he’s gonna do with the garter belt. That means all you single women come on up and get ready to see who’s next to get married with a single catch,” the DJ yelled.
Kendrick noticed Sutton inched down in her chair, trying to make herself appear smaller. “Why aren’t you running up there to join the other ladies?”
She turned her startled eyes at him. “Fuck no. Not that it’s a bad thing to get married. For some people, the whole ’til death do you part is romantic as hell.”
THE THOUGHT OF BEING chained to a man as his sex toy for life repelled her. Her father owned her mother like she was his personal plaything, his worthless whore, good for two things: keeping his stomach fed and his baser urges met. Once he’d turned his sights on Sutton, he’d declared her mother good at one more thing.
The fucking bitch relished in the new praise.
The teachers in her school noticed bruises on her arms and neck several times. Once, a counselor called her into the office with promises that anything said there would stay between them. Sutton believed her. Ms. Tate lied, and Sutton learned another painful lesson that evening. Her hand lifted to her jaw.
“You’re going to be a worthless little slut just like your mother one day to some unlucky bastard, but at least you’ll know your place. He’ll have me to thank for your obedience.” Her father’s sweat dripped on her back, stinging the bleeding welts from his leather belt.
“Hey, Passerotta, come here,” Kendrick murmured, pulling Sutton onto his lap.
His deep baritone brought her back to the present. Unable to look into his narrowed green eyes. She buried her face in his shoulder, letting his arms surround her and whispering comforting words while she broke a little and put herself back together.
“I got you. Don’t stiffen. Ain’t nobody paying attention to us.” His big hand ran up and down her back.
Finally, she let out a shuddering breath. What would Kendrick see when he looked at her? She was sure there could be no hiding from this man.
“My parents’ marriage was less than ideal. I don’t remember very many holidays where my dad wasn’t fighting and screaming with my mom. More often than not, I ended up alone while my father nursed a hangover, and my mother nursed whatever she’d gotten from him.” She let out a shuddering breath.
Lord, she hadn’t told anyone that much about her past. How the hell had it come out so easily to a man she’d known for less than four hours?
“I’m sorry. A man is supposed to protect his family. Your father isn’t a real man,” he gritted out.
“Was. He’s dead,” she said flatly.
“Good. We have that in common as well. Except I killed my father and took his seat as head of our family. Does that make me a bastard in your eyes, Sutton? You shared a part of your past. I need to be honest with you. I’m no angel or white knight. Truth? I’m probably that boy your mother would’ve told you to stay the fuck away from, and for good reason.”
She loved hearing him talk but stiffened when he spoke about himself in such a way.
“Trust me, Kendrick. You’re nothing like him.”
“That’s good to hear. Of course, I’m old enough that many people would think I was your daddy.”
She snorted. “You never did tell me how old you were.”
Sutton wanted to say it didn’t matter to her. Unless he’d taken an oath of celibacy or something, she planned to see where this went. Whoa, pump the brakes, sister. If her memory served her correctly, he didn’t live in California. And if he wanted her to call him Daddy, Sutton would be more than willing to do so. On her knees. On her back. In any position he willed it.
Her cheeks felt hot, thanks to the thoughts running through her mind.
They both became aware of the loud cheering surrounding the dance floor at the same time as the DJ’s voice shouting for Kendrick.
Sutton shimmied off of his lap, moving to take her place back into the seat next to him.
“Fuck off, Jeter,” Kendrick growled.
“Looks like your brother has declined the call of the garter, men.”
Raucous laughter and cheering filled the air.
“I liked you over here,” he rasped. His eyes raked over her, heating with desire.
She shifted in her seat. The emerald-green bodycon dress she wore suddenly felt heavy. With each deep inhale, the silky, soft lace bodice stretched, thanks to it fitting her like a glove. She’d fallen in love with the design and color the moment she’d seen it in a boutique a few weeks ago. Once she’d put it on and seen how the V-neck gave a glimpse of her cleavage without looking slutty, she’d paid the slightly high price for it. Of course, the skirt ended several inches above her knees, with layers of chiffon that looked like ribbon hanging in strips. Being a tall woman, finding short dresses that didn’t make her feel exposed was hard. Those layers were a blessing, since she was sure any other dress would’ve been hard-pressed to hide her arousal.
“I did, too. You scare me, though.” Honesty, there was no other recourse. Sure, she didn’t have to tell him the truth, but he’d see through her, and she didn’t want to be like her mother. She bit her bottom lip, a nervous habit she couldn’t break.
Kendrick leaned over, tugging it free from between her teeth. He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. The feel of his rough, callous finger sent a zing of pleasure down her spine. His eyes lifted from her mouth to meet hers. They were like emerald fire. “You keep abusing this little bit of flesh, and I’ll have to punish you.”
She sighed. “You say that like you’re trying to scare me.”
He chuckled. “No doubt about it, baby girl. I’m not a nice man.”
“Kendrick, let me tell you what a wise woman once told me. There’s light, and there’s dark in all of us. Sometimes we allow the dark to snuff out the light. Some people let the light become so bright they can’t understand those who are not like them. Those are the holier-than-thou folks. And then, some have a blend of both light and dark. When those come together within a person, it’s a truly beautiful thing. I see that when I look at you. Yes, I don’t doubt you can be ruthless when necessary. However, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t lay your life down for those you love or do whatever you can to protect them.”
He tugged her chair closer to his and ran the back of his hand down her bare shoulder until he reached her fingers. He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the top. “You have no idea what your words do for my black heart.”
A laugh she couldn’t contain huffed out of her. “Keep telling yourself that, mister.”
His eyes darkened as he sat back. She felt him withdraw and wondered what she’d said. “You’re such a little innocent,” he breathed.
It was her turn to laugh. Only there was no humor in the sound. “If you think I’m innocent, Kendrick, or if that’s what you expect, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”
She shoved back from the table, getting to her feet on shaky legs. Sutton needed to get away from his magnetic presence. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to go to the ladies' room.”
Ensuring she had her small evening bag with her credit card and cell phone inside, she made her way across the clubhouse. The place was enormous. Tiana had explained the first time she’d come there how they’d expanded and built onto the original structure since the members began getting married and having babies. She’d envied the relationship between the men and their wives, or ole’ ladies as they called them. They were all like a tight-knit family—nothing like the gangs the media and Hollywood liked to portray them. After being around them on many occasions, Sutton had learned Tiana hadn’t spoken the truth. Everyone who belonged to the Royal MC, man, woman, or child, was family. Nobody fucked with them, or they’d face the wrath of the entire RBMC.
The long hallway to the bathroom boasted a few doors on each side, clearly marked with what was behind them. She entered the one with the female symbol on it. She pushed through, chuckling at the stick figure of a woman wearing assless chaps while the men’s restroom had a stick figure on a motorcycle. The harsh light had her blinking several times. There’s a long counter with a half dozen sinks and lighted mirrors in front of them. They were perfect if a woman needed to touch up her makeup or hair. Under the white glittery countertop, a shiny, black cabinet ran the length with open slots and outlets directly beneath each one. The floor mimicked the same glittery white surface as the counter. Now she understood what her friend Tiana said about the recent renovations being amazing.
Moving to the last stall, she wasn’t surprised they hadn’t spared any expense on the toilet area either. “A freaking bidet and heated seats?”
The control panel showed she could choose all kinds of different things. “Who knew I could wash my pussy while keeping my ass warm and then dry it? No mess, no fuss,” she mused.
“I swear I thought the same damn thing.”
Sutton yelped. She’d thought she was alone in the restroom. “Who’s there?”
“Sorry, I was hiding in here for a breather. It’s me, “Ayesha.”
The sound of a quiet swoosh followed by Ayesha’s heels tapping on the floor broke the silence.
“I’m hiding, too,” Sutton admitted.
“Want me to have King dispose of him?” Ayesha asked, her voice slightly slurred.
Sutton finished, pushing several buttons on the little remote. “Oh shit,” she yelped. Water and heat must’ve been the options she chose, as her hoo-ha got the deluxe treatment.
She stood on shaky legs, wondering if Kendrick would enjoy her—nope, she wasn’t going there.
“Girl, if I’m pregnant, I’m suing that toilet for child support.”