Chapter 14 Phantom #2
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “Work shit. I’m going to have to go in.”
She nods. “Do you need to go now? You can leave me here, and—”
I take her hand and help her climb down onto the sidewalk. I pull her hips to mine and then cup her cheeks. “Poppy. I’m not leaving you here. I’m not leaving you, period. You hear me? You may be used to people leaving or never even showing up for you. We’re in this together. Come on.”
I take her hand and hold it as we walk inside the house. Once we’re inside, she gasps.
“It’s empty,” she says. “What happened?”
I motion to the place where the couch was. “The furniture that was slashed and cut is at the dump. We took pictures of everything that first night, but I had the guys take more pics so you can send them to your insurance. I’m sorry. We couldn’t save a lot of your stuff.”
I can only imagine how this feels to her. I show her the box where all the papers were carefully placed and follow her into the kitchen.
She opens every cabinet, pulls open the drawers in the fridge.
“It’s like we never lived here. This looks like a house that’s up for sale.
No food, no mess.” She turns to me, a bewildered look on her beautiful features.
“Your bikers did this? This is better than a professional cleaning crew could do if they had a week.”
“There are a few women who hang around the club. They helped,” I tell her.
I don’t know what to say right now. She looks stunned and sad.
“Poppy, are you okay?”
“I want to meet them,” she says. “I need to thank the people who did this. How many women are there? I’m going to do their hair for free for months.”
I take her in my arms and hold her close. “Stop. You don’t have to kiss ass or apologize. These people did it because I asked them to. We’re a family, and if you’re with me, you’re part of it.”
“Am I with you?” she asks, looking up into my face.
“Do you want to be?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, but I still want to meet them.”
I chuckle. “You’re in luck. Stella’s birthday is this weekend. We’re having a party at the compound Saturday night. The girls can watch Jax, and we’ll stop in. Make an appearance. You can thank them yourself, but that’s it. You don’t owe anybody shit, Poppy. You hear me?”
She doesn’t respond. Just takes my hand and heads toward the door. “Can we go back to your place now? This doesn’t even feel like home.”
I do exactly what my woman asks.
Poppy is quiet on the drive to my place, but she doesn’t let go of my hand. “I should call my mom,” she says. “Let her know what’s going on.”
I nod. “You want to invite her over? She might feel better if she sees where you and Jax are staying.”
“Then I’ll have to explain how I know you. Why we’re with you. How long we’re staying.”
I squeeze her fingers. “You want me to talk to Mama Lori? Let her know exactly what the deal is?”
Poppy laughs. “I don’t know that what you’d tell her is any better than what I’d tell her.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Once they get past my tattoos, my bike, and my past, moms love me.”
“My mom would love you,” she says. When I pull into the driveway and click the garage door open, she continues.
“Mom never wanted me to marry Michael. She said there was no way I could know what was out there if I married the first man I let under my skirt.” She rolls her eyes.
“It’s been a while, but yeah, she actually said that. ”
I narrow my eyes and look at the dress that sits just covering Poppy’s thighs. “I love the idea of getting under your skirt.”
Poppy opens the door, shaking her head. I’ve got to get to the club, but first, I’m going to walk her in and make sure she gets settled. I disarm the alarm and we head inside.
“Do you want me to pick the kids up from school? I’m better now, Phantom, and my car is here. I can pick up all the kids while you run to work.”
I shake my head. “Get your fine ass upstairs and in bed. You have one more afternoon to rest. I’ll hit the compound, take care of business, and get the kids on my way back here. Family dinner at six.”
When I say family dinner, she turns and looks at me. “I’d love that. I’m going to go get changed.”
She heads upstairs, and I follow her so I can change out of the dress clothes I wore to court. We walk into my bedroom together like it’s something we’ve done every day. Like it’s normal. Like it’s ours. Not mine. Not my house. Ours.
As soon as we’re inside the bedroom, she must be feeling what I am because she turns to me and just looks at me. Her eyes shimmer with tears, but she looks happy. “Phantom.” She says my name and steps close to me, pressing my back against the closed bedroom door. “I don’t know how to—”
My mouth is on hers before she even gets the words out. I circle her face with my hands and kiss her soft and slow. Our first real kiss. She whimpers as our tongues tangle gently, then rough, and my cock goes hard as a lead pipe.
She leans her hips against mine, and her hands are suddenly everywhere. Tugging at my hips, scratching the back of my neck. I plunge my tongue into her mouth and taste every sweet flavor that is her. But it’s not enough. I need more. I want her more than I want to breathe my next breath.
I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my hips. I stagger over to the bed and set her on her back, then graze my hand over the front of her dress.
“Poppy,” I grit out, hoarse with need. “I want to—”
I don’t even get the words out when she moves her hands to the top of her dress. She wriggles her arms and shoves the soft fabric down, exposing her breasts to me.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.”
With her lying back on my bed, her hair spilling out on the blankets, I’m speechless. I can’t fucking form a coherent thought. I can’t move. I forget all about time, the compound. Everything. Everything but her.
“Phantom, please…” She’s breathing softly through parted lips, and she cups her tits with her hands. “I need to feel your mouth on me.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I drop my mouth to her perfect breast and draw the entire nipple into my mouth. Her peak is hard and soft and so, so tender. She squirms and huffs hot little whimpers as I suck her nipple and squeeze her breast in my hand.
My cock is throbbing and desperate for release, but I’m in a frenzy. I want this woman worse than I’ve ever wanted anything. She’s like a virus that has infected me, claiming me from the inside.
I lightly pinch her nipples with my fingertips until she’s gasping and bucking her hips against me. But I’m not going to let the first time she comes be from dry humping me. I move my hands from her tits to her thighs, kneading and stroking her thick muscles until my hands are under her skirt.
I brush my fingers across the front of her panties, and she’s drenched. So wet that my dick jerks behind my zipper as I shove the panties to one side. I’m just about to stroke her, to touch her, when she stops me.
“Phantom. Wait.”
I’m breathing hard. My cock is hard. And my self-control is difficult to pull back. But at the smallest sign from her, I freeze, my fingers under the elastic of her panties.
“This is a lot for me. I need to slow down.” She rolls off the bed, adjusts her dress, and lowers her skirt to mid-thigh. She walks over to the window and stares out over the lawn.
“Did I do something wrong? Was I too rough, too…” I’m behind her in an instant, ready to apologize, ready to say or do anything to make it right if I went too far, asked for too much.
“No. God, no.” She turns and faces me, her cheeks flushed as bright as when she had her fever. “You’re perfect. Too perfect. If we didn’t stop, I don’t think I could have.”
“We’re consenting adults, babe,” I remind her. “We can fuck when and how we want to. And if you don’t want to, we wait.”
She lowers her forehead against my chest and draws in a shaky breath. “I haven’t felt like that with anyone, not even my husband. And if I ever felt anything even close, I definitely don’t remember now.”
I hold her tight against me, a selfish grin on my face. “Baby, that was not even foreplay. That was barely getting started.”
She groans, and the sound travels straight to my cock. “Soon, okay? I just need a little more time to be ready and maybe a chance to shave?”
I release her and cup her chin with my hand. “Babe, you could be hairier than a woolly fucking mammoth, and I’d still want to fuck you into our next lifetime. You hear me? You’re perfect.” And she is. Absolutely fucking perfect.
She sighs and looks out over my yard, so I stand behind her, wrap my arms around her, and press my still-hard cock against her ass. “When you’re ready,” I start, but as soon as I look out the window, the words die on my lips.
“What is it?” she asks, turning toward me. “Phantom?”
“Stay here,” I tell her. I rush to my dresser, open the middle top drawer, and grab the Glock I keep there. “I saw something in the pool house. Stay here and lock the bedroom door when I leave.”
I take off running down the stairs, flying through the house, and shoving past the patio doors.
The pool house has cameras on it and an alarm that the kids can disable when they swim so every movement doesn’t give off an alert.
There’s no sign of a break-in, but I swear I see something floating in the pool.
I pull on the door to the pool house, and it opens without a code. It’s unlocked and unarmed. Anyone could have gotten in and done anything. They wouldn’t have been able to get into the house, but still.
My weapon cocked, safety off, I look through the pool house. There’s nowhere to hide but the mechanical closet, so I kick the door open to make sure it’s empty. It is. No sign of anyone in here.
Certain that I’m alone, I click the safety on my gun and walk up to the edge of the pool. And then what I spotted from my bedroom comes into focus. Rats. Dead rats. At least a dozen of them. Floating in my fucking pool.