Chapter 11 Gatling
Chapter eleven
Gatling
I forced myself to stay at the party for one hour. Long enough to mingle, grab a drink, making sure that Noah witnessed me wandering around the room. He couldn’t bitch about me never showing up to these damn things after this.
Then I finally made my escape.
Yanking at the collar of my uniform, I grabbed my bike and climbed on. I could still smell Kelsie’s perfume clinging to my clothes, my skin, filling my lungs.
I came here for her. Not Noah, not the veterans. Just her.
And now I could smell her on me. Sweet and light and—
Fuck, I was hard as a rock.
I debated drowning myself in a bottle of whiskey at the clubhouse in an effort to put Kelsie behind me. The curve of her waist fit so perfectly in my palm. And the dip of her collar offered a tempting glimpse of her cleavage.
I’d tasted those tits at one time. My mouth watered at the memory and my dick throbbed even harder. Jesus, I felt like I was falling apart, unraveling, crumbling.
And this damn uniform was strangling me.
Despite my service in the military, I never truly felt like a soldier.
I was a hunter, and the military needed men like me who knew how to use a gun.
Taking orders got my hackles up though, and I often butted heads with authority figures who attempted to boss me around in order to establish some form of dominance. That didn’t go over well either.
For Noah, the uniform became part of his identity, defining so much of his life. He was proud of his military days and he wanted the world to witness that.
Racing back to my cabin, I shoved the front door open, stripping off my uniform as I went.
A shower. I needed an icy cold shower to cool my blood and tame this hard-on.
Goosebumps prickled across my skin as I tossed my shirt on the foot of my bed, striding toward the bathroom.
I didn’t have central heating in my cabin, relying on the fireplace for warmth.
But the coals had burned to ash while I was at the Gala, and my breath frosted in the air.
A flash of pink caught my attention, peeking out from beneath my pillow.
I screeched to a stop, heart hammering against my sternum.
Kelsie’s panties. The pair I’d stolen when I broke into her apartment to fix her shower.
I forgot I had them.
Sinking onto the edge of the mattress, I reached out and plucked the lace up. Twisting it in my fingers.
My cock pulsed with every thunderous heartbeat.
The fabric was worn to silky softness, and the lace looked so delicate in my callused, rough hands. The dirt under my fingernails. The scars across my knuckles.
Pink, like the blush of Kelsie’s cheeks.
Pink, like those sweet, plump nipples I’d tasted in this same bed. That felt like a lifetime ago now.
Pink, like her lips, smiling, pouting, pursed with worry or disappointment. Those same lips that I had kissed, damning myself to an eternity of yearning for a woman I could never have.
Before I realized what I was thinking, I stripped my pants down to mid-thigh, exposing my cock. I hesitated for a split second, with Kelsie’s panties in my grip. Was I prepared to sink to a new level of deprivation?
Fuck it. I had no hope of salvation anyway.
Wrapping Kelsie’s panties around my cock, a deep groan rumbled in my chest. I stroked and pumped along my length, fucking up into my fist. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine Kelsie was here with me—her scent, her curves pressed against me, squeezing that perfect little pussy until my brain went blank.
I dragged the panties over the tip of my cock, imagining that innocent pink color to be her mouth, her tongue. Teasing at my slit. Tracing the fat, swollen veins.
“Damn it,” I muttered, panting, aching and frantic for release.
Bundling the panties onto my mattress, I braced an arm against the bed and rolled my hips, desperate for more friction. I prided myself on my aloof nature, keeping everyone at arm’s length. I thought I was immune from it all.
I watched the Blackjacks fall in love. I watched them fight with their wives and girlfriends and bunnies. I watched them go through hellish divorces and remarry again to the same woman ten years down the road.
And I foolishly thought nothing like that would ever happen to me.
Love was for other people.
But this…
This was a fever, burning through my body. Consuming me. Turning me rabid for Kelsie.
Forty-five years old, and here I was, humping my fucking mattress like a horny teenager. Wishing she was here. Wishing those little panties could make up for the fact that my woman, my sunshine wasn’t in my bed.
I growled into the pillow, screwing my eyes shut as I rolled my hips harder, faster. Kelsie’s panties were damp with my pre-cum now. My scent had overtaken hers.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I hissed, as my balls tightened, and my orgasm slammed into me.
With one last thrust, I came, coating her panties. A vision flashed in my mind—Kelsie’s back arched with pleasure, lips parted, her plush thighs locked around my hips.
I didn’t want to open my eyes ever again. I didn’t want to lose that vision.
My phone rang, jarring in the silence. I dug it out of my pocket and kicked my pants off, stepping into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I answered the phone.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” Noah demanded.
I opened my mouth then snapped it shut again. Two seconds ago, I’d been jerking off with his sister’s panties. But there was no way I would tell him that.
“Like what?” I prompted.
“Don’t play dumb. You’re too smart for that.”
“Well, Noah, you called me out of the blue, demanding answers to a question you haven’t asked yet. So I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Noah huffed.
“You and Kelsie. You were eye fucking each other on the dance floor tonight. What the hell is going on between you two?”
Shit.
Technically, Noah didn’t have solid proof of anything. And in my experience, remaining silent was a safe bet. People tended to fill the silence with their own thoughts if I waited long enough. And since I was a hunter, I could wait for hours, days, even weeks for the perfect shot.
Besides, no one could twist my words against me when I didn’t say anything in the first place.
“Kelsie has a giant crush on you, Ryker,” Noah continued. “You know that, right? She always has. I think it’s the whole…bad boy thing you’ve got going on. It’s catnip to girls like her.”
I should have kept my mouth shut, but it seemed my common sense had abandoned me today.
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”
“This isn’t a joke,” Noah said.
No kidding.
After a minute or two of tense silence, Noah finally sighed.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off. It’s probably just stress building up. You would never lay a finger on Kelsie. She’s practically family to you.”
Practically family.
Right.
Guilt soured on my tongue, cloying and thick. At one time, I did think of Kelsie that way. She was so little and fragile, vulnerable in this big, cruel world that would crush an innocent creature like her.
Then something changed after she graduated college. She wasn’t the same little Kelsie I knew. She was a full grown woman, with softly rounded curves, and a subtle sex appeal that knocked the breath from my lungs every time I looked at her.
I didn’t think of her like she was practically family anymore. And after that night in my cabin…
“Hey,” Noah said, breaking through my thoughts. “If you notice anything off with Kelsie, could you…do me a favor and talk to her? She doesn’t tell me as much as she used to. I’ve been too hard on her, too smothering. But I don’t want her to feel like she’s alone. Because she’s not.”
I blew out a breath, guilt nagging at the back of my mind.
“I’m here if she needs me,” I said. “Always have been. Always will be.”
After I showered and changed into jeans and a hoodie, I grabbed my gear for a hunt.
I needed to clear my head. The only way I knew how to do that was by fucking off into the woods for a few days while I worked everything out.
There was something clean and clearcut about a hunt.
In the snowy, rough terrain, tracking a buck, I didn’t think. I simply put myself in motion.
I couldn’t stay out there for long this time though. Maybe an hour or two at the most. When I left the town hall last night, Baby Doll was supposed to be watching Kelsie. So I needed to stay close in case of emergencies.
As I stuffed a handful of trail mix bars and jerky into my backpack, the roar of a motorcycle echoed outside. I growled with frustration. There was a reason I lived out here, in the middle of nowhere—to deter unexpected visitors who just decided to drop by.
Moving to the window, I looked out.
Kingpin, President of the Blackjacks MC, parked his bike on my dirt road.
If it had been anyone else, I would have slipped out the back and hightailed it into the woods without saying a word.
But I’d known Kingpin for years. Since my early days with the club.
I’d seen him weather a roller-coaster of highs and lows with the club, and in his personal life.
I wouldn’t call us friends. But we had a mutual respect for each other, two bikers standing shoulder to shoulder through hell or high water. Kingpin wouldn’t be here for a chitchat over a cup of coffee or a beer. He was here for club business that was too sensitive to be discussed over the phone.
I met Kingpin at the door before he got a chance to knock.
“Hey, Prez. Is something wrong?”
“You tell me.” He gestured in my direction. “Can I have a word?”
Moving aside, I pushed the door open fully and waved him in. As Kingpin stepped over the threshold, he surveyed my cabin, taking note of the backpack resting on my kitchen table.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“Hunting,” I replied. “The woods are deserted after it snows. No other hikers. No crowds. It’s peaceful.”
Kingpin shook his head.
“That sounds like it would be hell on my old bones.”