20. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
Torrent sipped his beer, listening to Cecilia and Sally discuss some television show that they were both obsessed with. Dragon had gone to play pool. Cauldron had challenged him to a game, and Dragon rarely turned down a challenge.
His admirer wasn’t making herself scarce as he’d thought.
Instead, she was sitting at the bar, glaring at his wife.
So far, Cecilia seemed not to have noticed.
He was guessing that Sally hadn’t noticed either because, knowing her, she probably would have either done something herself or urged Cecilia to stand up for herself.
The Prospect behind the bar had been directed to make a pitcher of margaritas and bring it over.
It was Sally’s favorite drink. He’d asked Cecilia if she had a favorite.
She’d said no, that she’d drink what Sally wanted.
The Prospect brought the pitcher over with margarita glasses dipped in salt.
“Nice job, Prospect,” Torrent commented with a nod. The Prospect placed the items in front of Sally and Cecilia, then motioned to Torrent.
“I’ll be right back,” Torrent said, getting up and following the Prospect away from the table.
Once they were out of earshot, Torrent asked, “What’s up?”
“At first, Jasmine was just glaring at your table. Now, she’s talking bad about your wife. She’s also consumed more alcohol than I’ve ever served her. I wanted you aware because I’m not sure if she’ll try something,” the Prospect warned.
Torrent glanced toward the bar. Jasmine was staring at Cecilia and talking to herself.
“I appreciate you letting me know,” Torrent replied.
Although Torrent knew he was getting closer to having to make a huge scene, Cecilia was relaxed and so happy tonight.
This first night at the clubhouse party, without worrying about Calliope upstairs, was not being ruined by a disgruntled Whisper.
He glanced around the room to see who was available.
Mammoth was standing near the pool table, watching the game.
Torrent made his way over there, stopping by where Sally and Cecilia were to tell Cecilia where he’d be. Once he confirmed she was good, he headed to Mammoth.
He stood by him for a second before getting his attention.
“Mammoth,” he started, but Mammoth interrupted him.
“Need me to keep Jasmine’s mouth occupied so she doesn’t shoot it off near your woman?” Mammoth guessed.
“How’d you know?” Torrent couldn’t keep the surprise out of his tone.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on her after Harley mentioned your encounter.
You won’t need to worry about her for the rest of the night,” Mammoth promised, chuckling and walking toward the bar.
He stopped in front of Jasmine. Whatever he said must have irritated her because she started to walk around him and head toward the table with Sally and Cecilia.
Mammoth grasped her arm, pulling her back against him, holding her head still so he could whisper in her ear.
Whatever he said must have convinced her because she dropped to her knees and started unbuckling his belt.
Torrent glanced at the table to see if Cecilia had caught any of that, but she was giggling at something Sally had said, completely unaware of Jasmine. Torrent turned back and saw that Jasmine’s mouth was full. She wouldn’t be saying anything to Cecilia anytime soon.
He stayed to watch Dragon play pool, keeping Cecilia in sight, just in case.
Cecilia let Torrent help her up the stairs to their room with his arm around her waist. She wasn’t wasted, but it was nice to have him want to keep her safe.
“I had so much fun,” she beamed, as he unlocked their door and let her walk in first.
“I’m glad,” he said, locking their door. “You need to text Willow to check on Calliope or you okay?”
He was such a sweetie. She stared at his eyes, his nose, down to his full lips.
“Cecilia,” he rumbled.
“What?” she replied.
“Do you need to text or call Willow?” he gently pressed.
She shook her head. She trusted Willow.
“Nope, but we’ve been married almost a week,” she noted, glancing toward the clock and saw it was two in the morning on Sunday. “No, it’s been a week. Happy Anniversary!” she yelled.
“Happy Anniversary, Cecilia,” Torrent murmured in his deep voice that always made her feel safe.
“We haven’t consummated our marriage yet,” she admitted. She worried at times that it wouldn’t be considered real if it hadn’t been consummated. What if Useless found out it wasn’t real?
“No, we haven’t. We have all the time—no rush,” Torrent reassured her.
She scrunched her nose. Maybe Torrent didn’t want her. Did he think she was ugly or not sexy? Is that why he wasn’t rushing? Was he having Jasmine take care of his needs?
“Men have needs,” she said.
Torrent blinked at her. Did he have something stuck in his eye? She was a little wasted, but she could probably still help him get it out of there. When he didn’t say anything, she wondered if he’d heard her.
“Men have needs, right?” she repeated.
“Yes, but so do women,” he countered.
“Yeah, but I don’t want you going to Jasmine because we haven’t consummated our wedding,” she blurted.
He stepped closer. “I don’t cheat. We’re married,” he stated firmly.
She stared at him. “What about that?” she asked, motioning to his cock which looked like it was really hard and straining at his jeans.
At least, she hoped it was really hard because if it was that big when it was soft, there was no freaking way it would fit inside her without puncturing through her uterus and her diaphragm.
"That will wait as long as we need until we are both ready to make love,” he swore.
She swayed closer. How did she find a man who was willing to keep her safe and expect nothing in return?
Oh, that’s right, her dad had suggested him.
Her dad must have realized that Torrent was a good man.
She giggled. It was funny to think of her dad believing that an ex-con biker was a better man than the Police Chief.
She wasn’t ready to consummate their marriage, but Torrent gave great kisses. She reached for his white T-shirt under his cut and grabbed the neckline, pulling him closer.
“Kiss me,” she demanded.
Torrent complied, and she gave herself over to having his lips against hers—tasting, nipping until she was leaning against him because every touch spun her higher.
She needed something more, but there was some reason she wasn’t going further.
She couldn’t remember it right now. She wanted his hands on her.
She reached for his hand, sliding it under her T-shirt and placing it on her breast. Her nipple was hard in the bra cup, but Torrent didn’t move his hand. She reluctantly dragged her lips away from Torrent.
“Touch me,” she pleaded.
Torrent didn’t answer right away.
“Torrent,” she said.
He slid his hand around her back, pulling her in, resting his chin on her head.
“You smell good. You taste good, but I have no idea how many margaritas you’ve had.
When we finally make love and I sink inside of you, it will be because you are one hundred percent ready.
No doubts and no liquor paving the way. Now, go get ready for bed, and I’ll turn the lights off,” Torrent said.
“Are you saying no?” she asked. Did he really turn her down for touching her breasts?
“No, I’m saying not right now,” Torrent clarified.
“Okay,” she relented, walking toward the bedroom.
She paused in the doorway, staring over her shoulder.
Torrent was standing at the sink, holding the counter.
It hadn’t been as easy as he said to stop.
Her husband did want her but was just being a gentlemanly biker.
She grinned as she went to get her nightgown.
Maybe this was going to be the best thing to ever happen to her—being with Torrent.