TWENTY-ONE
Cain
The way Harper slept with a hand tucked gently underneath her chin, she looked like a fallen angel. Instead of the little wild woman he’d been fucking all night.
The heat stirred in Cain’s guts, standing by the side of the bed, looking at her with the sheet only barely covering her ass cheeks. The twin dimples at the base of her spine called to him, and without thought, he leaned down and slaked his tongue over those little dips, tasting her warm skin.
It was a testament to how hard he’d worked her body that she didn’t even stir.
The debauched side of his brain was urging him to climb back into bed and split her legs open to eat the orgasm out of her until she woke screaming. Or to slide into her until he couldn’t shove any more of his inches into her tightness. She’d wake all confused and clinging to him and gasping his name, but it wouldn’t even take a second for her to beg to be fucked again.
She tasted like sex.
And it was all his fault.
Harper might have an attitude the size of the equator, she might be a brave little warrior going toe-to-toe with him at every turn, but she’d come to him as a virgin, and he was still riding the euphoric high of that knowledge and of the feeling of wearing her virginal blood on his dick and tongue.
If she thought she could untangle herself from him after this, she was in for a rude fucking awakening.
He smirked and rose to his height after stroking a single finger the length of her spine, and then he stepped away from the bed.
With only two hours of sleep, Cain was wired, but his body was used to weird sleeping patterns when he chased criminals nationwide. Once dressed in jeans, a plain t-shirt, and boots, he strolled down the staircase and was surprised to see Damon sitting on the kitchen island with a plate of breakfast food, looking up bleary-eyed. He’d probably been drinking all night.
“I didn’t know you rose before midday,” Cain remarked, swinging into his leather jacket and searching for his car keys.
“Who can sleep with the symphony of fucking going on all night? I had to drink a bottle of scotch to knock me out. You couldn’t put your hand over her mouth?”
Cain ignored his snark. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Where are you going to? Do I need to get dressed?”
“To get food.”
“There’s food here.”
“Other food,” Cain answered, impatient at the litany of questioning.
“Since when does Cain Emerson buy a woman food after fucking her?”
Cain stopped in the archway leading out to the vestibule. Arching his eyebrow, he faced his most dependable employee. “You look like shit, Damon. Do you want my fist in your face right now?”
He chuffed a laugh. “Fuck. What’s happened to you? You get a taste of her MC gash, and you turn into Prince Charming? Do we forget everything you’ve put in motion? Maybe we’re a happy little family now.” He said it with a smile, but there was a bite to his tone, and Cain didn’t care for it.
Prior to this, they had never clashed because Damon was an obedient soldier.
“If Harper comes down, don’t say shit and don’t let her leave before I get back.” She was a flight risk, and he anticipated her sneaking out.
“I can’t talk to her? Fine, I’ll tie her up in the pantry if she tries to escape. Got it, boss.” He snapped with a tight smile and shoved food into his trap.
Cain parked down the block from Sweets by Paige —a cake shop owned by Paige Renner, wife of the Reaper from the Souls. He’d done his homework; a decade ago, this tiny storefront had grown to fill the entire block, and even early, a line was forming. Cain skipped the pickup queue and stepped inside. One half showcased sweet treats, and the other buzzed as a busy cafe.
It took him only a few glances to notice that Rider fucking Marinos was in attendance with his wife. An upsurge of hatred choked Cain, and momentarily, insanely , he considered stabbing the man. Retribution sorted.
But something strange happened, and he saw Harper in his mind, sobbing over losing her father, and it gave him pause. Almost like she was a paragon of goodness sitting on his shoulder, trying to influence his decisions, she’d probably bawl like a baby, and he wanted her crying because of him. No other reason.
Shaking his head, he ignored the couple immersed in each other and headed toward the counter, where he gave a young server his order to take out.
Waiting, he rubbed a hand over his black skullcap and let his eyes wander over to the cafe. There was only one table he was watching. Marinos looked relaxed, smiling at his wife. The ice-blonde woman looked enough like Harper that he could see Harper in the future. She threw her head back and laughed at whatever Marinos said. Then she reached across the table to hold his hand.
Did the woman know she was married to a murderer? Did she give a shit or accept him the way he was?
Could Harper accept all of his sinister ways? He didn’t care; he was keeping her regardless. It would just go easier if she accepted him.
Cain was no choirboy, far from it. But he’d never ripped a man away from his kid.
He was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize Marinos’ wife turned her head and caught him watching them.
Her smile died like she’d been shot in the chest.
Though distant, Cain noticed her sharp intake of breath. She gaped, seemingly recognizing him. But that wasn’t possible. Apart from Harper, he hadn’t put himself on any of the Souls’ radar. And his bratty wife wasn’t telling anyone about him, that much he was certain.
Her pale face studied Cain, searching for recognition.
And then she alerted Marinos. Cain was too far away to hear the words she was using, but as soon as she spoke, Marinos whipped his head around and stared at Cain.
His jaw clenched, his vicious eyes narrowed, and for a guy his age, he jumped up like a soldier, quick and smooth.
Well, this should be interesting, Cain thought as his enemy strode through the bakery.
Up close, Rider Marinos was all presence—solid, capable. A man who could handle anything. Cain had pictured this face-off plenty of times but never in a place filled with pastries and customers. A woman slipped past him to reach the counter as he leaned casually against the wall, waiting.
“You’ve been staring at my wife.” Harper’s father stated. His tone wasn’t hostile, nor was it full of sunshine. Cain tilted his head, looking his enemy in the eye. This man’s orders put Cain’s life trajectory on a different path. He’d never know what life he would have had if his biological father would have lived.
Would he have grown up in Colorado? Would he be part of his father’s MC? Maybe by working as his right hand. He’d never have those answers because of the man staring at him with a challenge in his blue eyes.
“Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so,” Cain answered evenly. “I was looking around while waiting for my order. I’m getting breakfast pastries for my girl. I must have caught your wife’s eye at the wrong time.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie, but Cain could lie at the drop of a hat when needed.
He almost wanted Marinos to start some shit. His blood hummed with the confrontation as the other man stared at him suspiciously. Was he aware that Cain was the one sabotaging his businesses for fun?
“Your order, Sir.” The young girl drew Cain’s attention, and he turned to pay with cash. While he did that, he was aware of Marinos’ short wife approaching him.
It wasn’t hard to miss how the woman drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, my god. It’s… he’s… Rider .”
As Cain turned, dropping his change into the tip jar, their eyes met. This time, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. All the color drained from her face.
Cain frowned at the reaction. What was her problem? Her body moved toward her husband, and she latched onto his hand. Rider gave him a death stare, like he believed Cain had checked out his wife.
“Rider, we need to go,” she said, finally tearing her eyes off Cain and tugging at her husband’s hand. Her behavior was more than strange. Then, glancing past Cain to the girl behind the counter, she added, “Kenya, sweetheart, tell Paige everything was lovely—I’ll call her later.”
Cain’s gaze flicked to their table, still littered with untouched plates. It was not so lovely if they were ditching breakfast.
The woman shot him another tense look, as if expecting him to say something, then turned, pulling up her fur-lined hood before stepping outside. Rider lingered a beat longer before following. Cain smirked and shook his head.
The first meeting was bizarre, but hey, it was satisfactory to bug Rider Marinos. Whatever annoyed the guy, Cain was happy about. If he’d wanted to fuck with him further, he could have shared that his daughter was in Cain’s bed, tangled in sex-soaked sheets.
Cradling the box of pastries he’d chosen for Harper, he stepped out of the bakery and paused on the sidewalk when Marinos blocked his path.
Round two. He cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah? Can I help you?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Who the fuck am I? Is that how everyone in this town talks to strangers?”
It was baiting him; he could have answered in many ways, but he enjoyed seeing the confusion in the other man’s eyes as his jaw worked in a powerful tick.
“You spooked my wife.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he lied, shrugging like he gave a shit. “But I don’t know her. I told you I only looked around when she looked my way.”
“You’re not from around here.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’m visiting from California.” And then. “Why did I spook her? I don’t look that scary, do I? My girl doesn’t think so.”
He got a twisted kick out of mentioning his wife to her father.
Marinos squinted. Cain was impenetrable, and no one could get through his defenses unless he allowed it.
“You look like someone we once knew.”
“Oh?” he jutted his chin, faking concern. “My condolences if it was someone close to her. We all have doppelgangers out there somewhere, don’t we?”
The sheepskin jacket was up by Marinos’ ears, and Cain noted the heavy muscle working on his jaw. He fixed on a cordial smile. “Well, I need to get these back to my wife.”
Cain nearly lost his cool when Marinos didn’t move out of his way.
“What’s your name?”
“Cain. And you are?”
He was mildly impressed when Marinos didn’t play the Do you know who I am ? Card.
“Do you have a family in Denver?”
“Only my wife. You look suspicious as fuck, guy, and I get it. I’d go ballistic if someone scared my wife, but all I was doing was buying pastries. I don’t control someone else’s reaction.”
Rider made a humming noise and jutted his chin.
“I hope you’ve meant every word you told me, son.” He said ominously and turned on his boots. Crossing the street, Cain watched him climb into a cherry red SUV.
He laughed low and light once Marinos was down the street.
Did that motherfucker just give him a veiled threat?
He fucking loved it.
Cain had a spring in his step as he walked the block to where he’d parked. A re-surge of his vengeance came back like a lick down his spine.
So he’d scared Marinos’ Mrs for some strange reason.
He’d have to look into that.
See if he could use it for shits and giggles.
He was energetic as he carried the box of treats into the house. He planned to feed Harper, sitting naked on his lap, and then fuck her again in the shower. She’d be all sore and swollen, and he couldn’t wait to push his cock into her and feel the electric addiction once more. But his smile fell like a mushroom bomb in the atmosphere as he saw Damon caging Harper against the staircase. His face was far too close to Cain’s wife. Damon’s hand was lassoed around Harper’s delicate wrist, blocking her path.
Her pleading eyes met his, bridging the distance.
Blood roared in his ears. “ WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING ?”
Possessive fury knotted up his veins until his vision bled from his anger.
The barked words came from the depths of that rage. “You have fucking seconds to explain why I’m not killing you on the spot.”