CHAPTER 9
EZRA
I’m very warm and the pillow underneath my head isn’t very comfortable. Without opening my eyes, I nuzzle my nose into the pillow and try to push the fluff into a better position. But my pillow doesn’t move. And it smells like spruce and cinnamon.
My eyes snap open and I try not to make any sound at all as Titus comes into focus. I’ve practically draped my entire body over his. His large hand is gripping one of my ass cheeks while the other is flung up over his head.
Even though his bed is big, he takes up a lot of the space in it. It’s not like I mind being this close to him, but it is kind of shocking.
And I slept so well last night.
Granted, that might have something to do with how hard he made me come. Thinking about it makes my cheeks heat and I bury my face back against his chest while keeping my eyes trained on him. Is he awake and just pretending to be asleep?
Or is he relaxed enough to sleep? I might be reading too much into it. Maybe he’s the kind of man who can sleep anywhere and he always sleeps deep. But my gut is telling that is unlikely considering how much he’s responsible for.
I’m well aware of the number of businesses the club runs.
Ryker runs the construction company. They’ve been building a new apartment building, and I have to say it’ll be good for the town.
I haven’t found anything the club does for the town to be a bad thing.
They’re just as much a part of the community as anyone else is.
Look at Bolt. He just graduated from high school. I was one of his teachers.
The club might be an integral part of our town, but that doesn’t mean being with a man like Titus is right for me. He’s the president and I understand his responsibilities to the club run deep. Right?
And then there are the rumors about what goes on with the women who have attached themselves to the club. Are they really called club whores? I don’t even know what to think about that.
I didn’t like the way that woman walked up to him last night when we got here. It was the first time jealousy tried to kick my ass. Then he had to go and not let anything happen while putting down a pretty firm boundary.
But is that enough? Is she going to be the only problem? I mean, is she going to be an ongoing problem or was last night enough?
Am I enough?
As thoughts swirl in my head, my fingers trace random patterns on his skin without even realizing it. I go still when I think about Dad. He is going to be pissed at me for this.
For trusting the club.
For being at the clubhouse.
For not wanting to let Titus go.
I try to tell myself it was only one night and didn’t mean anything, but I remember the way he whispered promises to not let me go against my skin. He said I’m his. What I’m not sure I’m ready to admit is how much I want him to be mine.
“I can hear you thinking and freaking out,” Titus’ voice is deep and gruff in the best of ways.
He opens his eyes and his gray orbs hold me hostage. The soft smile on his face and the way he caresses my head, like I’m precious, has my heart racing. I want to fall into this feeling; I’m desperate for it.
I’m just afraid to trust it. And I’m afraid of how much it will hurt if everything falls apart.
What if I’m not strong enough to stand up to my father?
Just when I’m about to leap from the bed, I’m rolled onto my back and Titus is looming over me. My heart is racing, but it’s not from fear. His spruce and cinnamon scent bombards me from all sides and my nipples pebble.
Which he is very aware of considering I’m still naked. And so is he.
A blush works its way up my neck and over my cheeks while covering my chest. He closes the distance between us, his nose running along the tops of my breasts and then up my neck.
“You have no idea what seeing you blush does to me, Teach,” he groans. “Now tell me what’s going on in your head and why you’re freaking out.”
There’s a demand in his voice, one I’m sure usually serves him well. He’s clearly a man who is used to being listened to; the first time.
But I’ve had a lifetime of living under authority I never asked for and started resenting a long time ago.
“I was not freaking out,” my tone is defiant as fuck and my biker’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline.
My eyes fall to his chest and the tattoos etched into his flesh. I didn’t get the chance to study him last night, not the way I wanted to. He’s so damn sexy and even though I should feel caged in, trapped, with his larger body looming over me, I feel safe.
“You were,” he shoots back at me, not letting me deflect or pretend otherwise. “You were overthinking and worrying. If you’re worried about people here giving you a hard time, you don’t need to. They like you; they respect you and the work you do in town.”
“I’m not worried about the people here,” I admit. “I avoided the club because it was easier. It’s not like I ever shunned anyone; I just kept my distance from the brothers. I knew Dad would never let me hear the end of it and of course people would talk,” I admit.
“Is that what you’re worried about?” His face is filled with concern, and it’s hard to believe it’s for me. “Your dad and people talking about us? I’m sure someone noticed me staying close last night and us leaving together.”
Determination washes through me and I reach up to slide my hands up the expanse of his muscular back. His skin is so warm, and I almost get distracted by it.
“I don’t really care about what people think.
Dad does,” I sigh, “he always has. But I’m so tired of him forcing me into a certain box, all because he thinks it is what’s best for me.
I think it’s almost worse that he does have my best interest at heart,” I tell him something I’ve never admitted to anyone else, not even Jessi.
“You know he’s going to flip his shit when he finds out where you are,” Titus doesn’t say it like a warning, just a statement of fact.
“Oh, for sure,” my heart sinks with my words because I know just how true they are. “He’s going to try to force me out of here. He’ll threaten me,” I tell him.
Rage transforms my man’s face and my eyes widen. “He better not fucking threaten you,” he growls the words as the tension in the room spikes.
“He would never physically hurt me,” I’m quick to defend my dad, even though part of me doesn’t really know why. Still, I do know for sure my words are true.
Titus narrows his eyes and some of the rage ebbs, but not all of it. “I don’t give a fuck if he would actually cause you physical pain or not. He better not fucking threaten you,” he repeats his words and they cause a fuzzy feeling in my tummy.
I pull him down on top of me, making him give me more of his weight. It feels so good to be covered in him. Protected. Sheltered.
Safe.
“You make me feels safe,” the words tumble from my lips even though I don’t mean to say them.
“Good,” his voice is thick as his eyes bounce between mine.
He’s looking at me like he’s memorizing me, as if he’s afraid that I’m going to disappear.
It has some of the fear settling in my chest instead of buzzing under my skin.
When I only focus on us, on the feeling arching between us and making it impossible to look away, everything feels surprisingly simple.
Maybe it can be.
“We should get the day started,” he says the words, but he doesn’t make any move to climb off me.
My legs come up and wrap around his waist, holding him in place.
One side of his mouth tips up in a smirk that makes me want to rub the length of my naked body against his.
“I still need to feed you,” there’s a tease in his tone.
“I made you scream loud enough for Coyote Man to hear you in the woods. Then you passed right the fuck out.”
“Coyote Man could not hear me,” I scoff as I look up at him, fighting against the smile that wants to make an appearance on my face. He sounds far too self-satisfied for my liking.
And I have my doubts that the Coyote Man is even real. It’s just one of those urban legends people use to scare their kids and try to keep teenagers in line and away from danger. It’s a legend older than me.
Coyote Man lives in the woods, if the stories are to be believed. He was driven to the forest on a mission to bring godliness back to society. When you go into the woods, his woods, with sin in your heart, he’ll be there to teach you a lesson.
Him and his pack.
Because he befriended the coyotes and they are his messengers.
Of course, that’s if you believe the stories.
Some people do. And sightings do happen from time to time. Allegedly.
What we’re lacking is evidence of his existence beyond uncorroborated sightings, blurry photos, and creepy feelings.
I keep my mouth shut about it, especially when talking to those who do spend time camping on the ridge in the hope of finding a sign of Coyote Man’s existence.
Knowing how legends shape history, I see no reason to shine a light on the whole thing.
There’s no one in the woods.
Also, yes, I’m aware the name isn’t original; I didn’t come up with it, and I have no idea who did.
“It was a long day,” I defend myself. “Don’t get me wrong,” I’m quick to add on, the words sounding almost like an apology, “it was a good orgasm, but I was on adrenaline overload for far too long and was bound to crash.”
Titus growls as he aligns our bodies completely. The hard ridge of his shaft slides between my pussy lips and we both groan, his low rumble rattles me from the inside out.
“I can feel how wet you are for me, Teach,” he grinds out the words, his jaw clenched tightly. “Do you need a reminder about how good it feels to have my dick deep inside of your pretty pussy?”
“Yes,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his back, “I have a horrible memory. The memory of a goldfish really. You should absolutely remind me of how it feels to stretch around your thick cock.”
“Ezra,” he grunts.