Chapter 4 #2
What were his options anyway? Stay and watch the woman he knew was meant to be his get married to another man tomorrow?
Because it was after midnight, which meant the wedding was now less than a day away.
Leaving felt… It felt wrong. When he’d ridden off before, he’d gone in the opposite direction of home because he couldn’t even make himself consider leaving her.
But watching her get married? Watching another man place his ring on her finger when Ghost had no doubt his ring was meant to be on her finger.
And why? Because he recognized her voice? Because he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the universe? Because he now knew he’d been put on this planet with the sole purpose of bettering her life and making her happy?
Movement caught his eye. A shadow on the porch moved to the side of the house.
Suspicion rising, Ghost’s hand went to the small of his back where his SIG Sauer P226 was holstered.
It was the middle of the night. No one should be out on the porch this late.
Climbing off his bike, he headed across the lawn.
The wrap-around porch had a high railing, and he used that to his advantage as he ducked low.
The footsteps on the polished wood became more defined the closer he got, until he knew he was right on the other side of the person.
In a swift motion, Ghost levied himself up and over the railing. He landed squarely on his boots and drew his weapon.
Ceramic hit the floor as a mug of hot liquid splattered everywhere. Green eyes met his, and she opened her mouth to scream. Ghost rushed her, clamping a hand over her mouth, trapping the air from escaping her lungs. At the same time, his body trapped her against the side of the house.
“It’s me,” he rushed to assure her. “Just me.”
Her breath was harsh against the inside of his hand, warm. As recognition registered, fear was replaced with… Fuck him, was that desire? The way her eyes dilated in the dim porch light, the way her breathing turned and her cheeks flushed…
Ghost took a step forward, ceramic crunching beneath his boots. His hand still over her mouth, he moved his other one to the small of his back to re-holster his weapon. “What are you doing out here, Becks? It’s the middle of the night.”
Her eyes narrowed on him—and he had the distinct impression that she was about to bite or lick his palm—but the movement of her eyebrows had his eyes drawing away from hers for the first time. Above her right eye, partly covered by her unkempt hair, was a bandage.
Ghost stiffened, straightening. His hand leaving her mouth, he raised it to her temple to lift her hair out of the way. The bandage was small, no bigger than his thumb, but it was there. She’d been hurt, wounded, while he’d been away.
Was her fiancé here? Had he come early and harmed her? Where the fuck was Ranger? If he was anywhere but burying a body, Ghost was going to kill him himself.
Hands, small and delicate, caught him around his waist. “No, stop!” With surprising strength, Becks pulled him back to her. Their hips connected, and Ghost put a hand out on the siding of the house to keep himself from squashing into her.
They fit. Like two pieces of a puzzle, they fit. Her softness to his hard edges, they stood together against the side of the house like their bodies were made to create one entity. But as momentous as it was, Ghost could not forget her injury.
“Who hurt you, Rebel?”
Her eyes widened. “Why… Why would you call me that?”
“Was it supposed to be a big secret?” he asked in return.
He pressed further into her, boxing her completely with his body.
When she wasn’t in those sexy as fuck heels, he towered over her petite height.
Putting his lips against her ear, he repeated his question in a clipped, demanding baritone. “Who. Hurt. You?”
“I… I did.” Her voice was little more than a gasp, that husky tone going straight to his dick. No doubt she could feel it too, as closely pressed as they were. It hadn’t passed his notice that her fingers were still looped around his belt. “I fell out of bed.”
Ghost’s jaw ticked, somewhat with amusement. Not what he had expected. He didn’t have to murder anyone but her fucking floor. And yet… “If you’d been in bed with me, Rebel, I’d have been holding you so tight, there’d have been no chance of you falling out.”
Becks’ audible gasp did make him chuckle. Putting his lips gently, almost reverently, against the bandage on her temple, he held her tightly for one more solid second.
Then he stepped away.
She looked ravaging. Like an offering in those little shorts and that fucking tank top.
So incredible, it physically hurt that he wasn’t already inside her.
Kicking the shards of ceramic out of the way of her bare feet, he tsked his tongue and nodded to the back door that led into Loretta’s kitchen.
“Get inside,” he ordered tersely.
She ran.
With no other option, Ghost headed down the back porch steps and into the shadows of the fenced-in backyard.
It wasn’t overly big, not like the massive ones at the VDMC property.
Ghost’s house shared a large communal backyard with four other houses, allowing all the club kids to share the playground set and have easy access to each other’s homes.
At the moment, Ghost was the only house in the Pentagon that didn’t have kids.
Facing the fence, he dropped trou. His pulsing erection ached, a completely different pain than the one he’d experienced just that morning when Becks’ knee had collided with his balls. That woman was going to be the death of him.
It was pathetically embarrassing how little time it took him to climax. Three, maybe four, strokes. But her scent was all over him, and Christ, he could still feel the softness of her skin against his. And that look in her eyes when she realized he was the one who pressed her up against the house?
Ghost turned his head, biting into his forearm to stifle the groan he let loose as a second wave hit him. He was nearly thirty-eight fucking years old, and some twenty-something had him coming like a teen with his first porno.
He leaned his head forward onto the rough wood of the unfinished fence.
In the shadows, he hoped no one could see him, but who knew these days who had night vision security cameras that were currently getting a close up of his ass.
He didn’t much care. Honestly, getting arrested for indecent exposure and lewd behavior would be the icing on the fucked-up cake that was this vacation.
He should have never come. What was he thinking? But then, he never would have met Becks. Never would have seen her smile or felt her weight on top of him, watched the arousal on her face and the sweet tang of excitement at his nearness.
And now, what? He was going to watch her get married to some other guy tomorrow?
Bending, he picked up his pants. There was nothing he could do about his cum sprayed across the fence, so he left it. Not like he was going to get a hose to rinse it away with. That would really wake the neighbors then.
He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead.
He felt more exhausted now than when he was running around doing fifty gazillion things for the club.
Once he was buckled and zipped up, Ghost entered the Fremont house the same way Becks had.
Thankfully, she was not in the kitchen, nor had she been watching him jerk off from the refuge of her home.
There weren’t many lights on in the house, but he was still able to locate the dustpan and broom from the pantry.
From the smell, Becks had been drinking a tea of some sort. The porch and his pants had an earthy tone to them. Why was she up? And why had she fallen from the bed? It was a queen, giving both her and Libby ample room.
In the dim lighting, he hadn’t gotten a real good look at it. Clearly, she’d done some damage if she needed a bandage on her temple.
Ghost locked the back door and verified the front was secure too before walking through the house turning off lights.
The pillow and blanket he’d used the night before had been returned to Ranger’s bedroom earlier in the day.
He hadn’t wanted it to get in Loretta’s way.
At present, all the groom’s party rental tuxes were in the living room anyway.
Ranger was on the phone when Ghost entered the bedroom, but thankfully, it looked like he was just scrolling reels instead of porn. He put the phone on the nightstand between the two beds as Ghost closed the door. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Went for a ride.” He couldn’t actually recall if he’d told Ranger that. “What happened to your sister?”
Ranger lifted an eyebrow, staying supine on the bed. “How did you know about that?”
“She was downstairs when I came in. I saw the bandage.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. Ghost sat on the edge of the bed to take his boots off.
Ranger shrugged. “No clue. She says she fell out of bed. Looked like the lamp had fallen on her head.” His offhanded, flippant way he talked of his sister’s injury raised Ghost’s hackles.
“Get this,” Ranger added with a snort. “She insists that she can clean up her own head, and then on her way to do it, trips and falls again.” He shakes his head with a chuckle.
“No clue how she walks in those stupid-ass heels. Woman has no sense of balance.”
Ghost loved her heels. He’d been surprised by them, sure, but damn did they make her ass look fantastic.
Not that it didn’t already, but they gave her hips that extra sway, like a maestro instructing his dick to crescendo.
He’d seen at least four boxes in her room marked ‘Shoes’.
What if he stole those and laid a trail of them like breadcrumbs all the way up to Mount Grove? Would she come to him then?