36. Chapter Thirty-Six
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ORA
I’m sitting in the kitchen the next morning when Ghost pulls a chair out and plops down. It’s not always comfortable to be around Ghost. He’s got a weird energy—it’s dark but also awkward. It’s like he wants to be a part of things but doesn’t know how.
I go about my morning, finishing up the batch of pancakes I’ve made for everyone. I know War doesn’t want me cooking for the club, but I have nothing better to do, especially now that I won’t be at work until the bakery is back up and running. Absently smoothing my hands over the small bump on my stomach, I pour myself a glass of juice and sip on it while I make Ghost a coffee. When I place it in front of him, he brings his steel-gray eyes to mine.
“Thank you. I’m sorry about the bakery,” he finally says, running his hand over his bald head. “And about Pippa. I didn’t know she was…” He trails off, licking his lips. “Both her and Sarah will get what’s coming to them.” He clears his throat. “I want Xanthe to move into the clubhouse for protection.”
My eyes widen. I pull out the chair next to his and take a seat. “Have you seen Xanthe since she was here last time?”
Because I haven’t.
She’s been busy at work, and I’m sure she does not want to be around us due to the constant life-threatening situations and drama. She’s a schoolteacher and the last person who needs spies, fires, shootings, and kidnappings in her life.
“I’ve seen her, but she hasn’t seen me,” he replies, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out.
“There’s a lot to unpack in those few words,” I mutter, licking my dry lips. “I’ll send Xanthe a message, but if she’s not on their radar, it’s probably best she stays away from us.”
He watches me, contemplating something in his head, then shrugs. “Okay. We never had this conversation.”
I’m sitting there replaying his words when War joins me. He woke me up early, went down on me, then left the bed. I tried to get him to fuck me, but he’s still holding out until he’s officially divorced, like I told him to. I’ve never regretted saying those words more in my life.
“Where have you been?” I ask, smiling against his lips as he kisses me.
“Had some club business to sort,” he replies, nuzzling my neck. “We’re having a party on Saturday night. We’re meant to have our charity fundraiser, but it’s probably not the best idea with everything going on.”
“But a party is okay?” I ask in a dry tone.
“No outsiders,” he comments, then serves two pancakes and puts them down in front of me. He also cuts up a plate of fruit with some yogurt for me. “We need to celebrate Prez being alive and the fact we’re having a baby. We’ve had some losses, but fuck if we don’t have plenty of wins.”
“That’s a good way of looking at things. You have the pancakes, and I’ll have this,” I say, moaning around a slice of mango.
“What did I tell you about cooking for everyone?”
“What did I tell you about telling me what to do?” I fire back, arching my brow.
His lip twitches, his eyes scanning my every feature as they roam over my face. “You don’t need to take care of anyone. Just focus on yourself and the baby.”
“I have you doing that for me,” I point out.
“Baby,” he whispers, his dark eyes softening. “Eat. Rest. Take my card and buy whatever the fuck you want.”
Last night, he gave me a long, gentle massage. He doesn’t need to spoil me any more than he does. Anything I want, he will make happen for me, and I know that. I also would never take advantage of it. I’m still in my first trimester, so while it’s sweet he’s being protective, it’s unnecessary.
“I like cooking, War, it gives me something to do. So let me. I told you if I’m feeling tired, I’ll say so. But I feel fine. The nausea has stopped too.”
I sit on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I love you.”
“I fucking love you,” he rasps against my lips, planting a soft kiss against mine. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Deciding to walk into Strike to pick up some fresh pussy was the best idea I’ve ever had.”
I slap his shoulder. “And you were doing so well.”
He laughs, his broad shoulders shaking. A light dances within his eyes, one I will never tire of seeing. “You don’t want me for my sweet words, Ora. You want me because I fuck you just right and because I’m addicted to the taste of your pussy. In fact, that’s what I want for dessert after I eat this.”
I roll my eyes. “There’s a little more to it than that, asshole. Besides, I can’t even remember what it feels like to be fucked by you. Maybe you need to remind me?”
“Soon, Ora. Soon. The next time my cock slides into you, I’m going to give you all of me. Forever,” he growls out.
Okay, I refuse to admit how hot those words are.
“You think I want you just because you’re amazing in bed? I’m sure half the men in this clubhouse are. I mean, hearing that woman scream out Angel’s name?—”
He shuts up my trash-talking with a kiss, his mouth chasing away another man’s name on my tongue.
“Breakfast with a show.” Bones grins, pulling out the chair next to us and sitting down.
War pulls away from me and throws him a look that would kill a lesser man.
Skull sits opposite us, and the two of them are helping themselves to the food. “Thank you for feeding us, Ora.”
Skull is definitely more reserved than his twin, but I can tell there’s a lot more to him than he gives away. “Anytime, Skull.”
“Please don’t ever leave us,” Bones adds, licking the maple syrup off his fingers. “If War dies or fucks up, I’m calling dibs. Don’t you ever forget that, Ora.”
“It will be you dying first if you don’t shut the fuck up, Bones,” War warns, moving my hair to one side and kissing the back of my neck. “If I die, Prez isn’t going to let any of you fuckers near her.” He freezes. “Except Scorp. Maybe I should pay him a visit.”
“Leave Scorp alone,” I reply, laughing under my breath. “We need him. You guys seem to get shot at a lot.”
Lu steps into the kitchen, her hair a mass of messy blonde curls. She’s wearing her favorite Sailor Moon nightdress, which slides up her thighs with each step. “Fuck me, you are all up early.” She perks up when she sees the pancakes and coffee.
“I’d like to fuck you all right,” Bones murmurs, licking his lips as he checks out her ass.
“Get in line,” Lu fires back, pouring herself some coffee and moaning as it hits her lips. “So, are we allowed to leave the clubhouse? Or am I a prisoner?”
“You can leave, but take one of the men with you,” War tells her, his fingers sliding across my inner thigh. “Don’t try and trick one of the prospects at the gate and leave here without one of us. Omen got into enough shit for not being around when Ora ran off.”
“Omen?” I ask.
“He was meant to be at the gate but was off getting his dick wet and wasn’t there to stop you,” he explains, his eyes flickering as he remembers that night.
“It wasn’t Omen’s fault you lied about being married,” I throw in his face. “What did you do to him?”
I haven’t really spoken to Omen much, but War introduced us and then threatened he would kill him if Omen even looked at me. He looked about my age, with hazel eyes and curly jet-black hair. I remember he had one of those slashes through his eyebrow which I thought looked sexy on him.
“He’s off on a run to one of our other chapters,” War replies, shrugging. “He can return when the sight of him doesn’t piss me off.”
I share a look with Lu, whose green eyes are wide. “Savage.”
“War—”
“He fucked up, and you got kidnapped,” he reminds me.
“I left because of you , not because of Omen,” I snap, getting angry about the situation all over again. “If anyone should be sent away, it’s you .”
Everyone goes silent, even Bones, who is looking toward the door longingly.
But I feel bad. It wasn’t the prospect’s fault, and I don’t want him held accountable for my actions.
War doesn’t get angry at my outburst. Instead, he gently kisses my temple and sighs. “I belong wherever you are, Ora.”
He really does make it hard to stay angry at him.
Bones mutters something about needing to take notes for when he finds an old lady.
And then War carries me back to bed to have his dessert.