Slow Burn (Lost Kings MC 1)

"I could never be casual with you," I clarify.

Some of the tension drains from her body. "I’m just feeling a little sad and guilty, I guess."

"I understand. Why don’t you get a little more rest. It’s still pretty early. We can talk more in the morning."

She nods against my chest, all her long, silky hair teasing my skin. I’m so thankful she’s in my arms, but I can’t help but notice Clay’s death did a number on my girl. She’s definitely lost that feisty streak that got me so worked up when we first met. This softer, more vulnerable version of Hope calls to every protective instinct I have inside me.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sunlight streams through a tiny break in the curtains. Stretching out my arms on either side, I determine I’m alone in Rock’s bed. Disappointment washes over me. Waking up with him earlier had been divine, and I can’t say I wasn’t wishing for a repeat.

Murmuring voices reach my ear, and I assume he’s downstairs watching television. My tank top is tangled somewhere in the sheets, but I find it and slip it on. I find my little boy shorts down on the floor where I kicked them earlier and shimmy those on too. After a stop in the bathroom to freshen up, I head downstairs. Just as I come into the living room, I realize it’s not the television. Rock has company over.

"Fu—"

I turn and try to scramble back up the stairs, but trip, landing painfully on my knee.

"Hope, are you okay?" Rock comes rushing up behind me. "Stay there," he says to whoever is in the living room. I think it was that guy, Z, but I’m not sure.

Rock’s hand touches my back, and I tip my head up. "I thought you were watching television. I didn’t realize someone was here, or I would have put more clothes on," I say miserably.

Rock’s face breaks into a huge grin, and he chuckles. Then his strong arms are around me, picking me up and hoisting me in the air. "You’re going to hurt your back," I warn.

"Please, Hope, you barely weigh anything," he answers, sounding pretty insulted.

"I’m so embarrassed."

"Don’t be. Z got an eyeful of your sweet ass. Now, I have to punch him in the face a few times. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll agree it was worth it."

"Don’t you dare!" I yelp as he sets me down on the bed.

He kneels down in front of me, gingerly touching my knee. "When you’re dressed, come downstairs so I can put some ice on this."

The concern in his voice tugs at my heart. "Thank you," I whisper.

He places a gentle kiss on my knee and stands.

I shimmy into my jeans. If I can just find a shirt…Rock’s setup here is similar to the one at his clubhouse, so I pull open one of the dresser drawers and find his stash of T-shirts. Feeling a little strange pawing through his things, I grab the first one I touch—black with a Harley logo on the front. It almost reaches my knees, but at least I’m covered. Just in case he plans to carry out his threat and beat Z up, I hurry downstairs. They’re huddled in the kitchen in the middle of a serious conversation. Both of them glance up as I step into the room.

I’m too embarrassed to meet Z’s eyes. I mumble hello, but keep my gaze focused on Rock.

"Hey, Hope."

"Hi, Z."

I chance a quick look at him. "Well, I’m gonna get going. Sorry I intruded," he says with a smirk. Rock punches him in the arm, making Z wince, then laugh.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Rock motions me over.

Wrapping myself in his arms chases any lingering unease away. "I borrowed one of your shirts. I hope that’s okay?" I murmur into his chest.

His hands are absently rubbing circles over my back. "It’s more than okay, baby. You can have anything of mine you want."

Wow. He said it sort of off the cuff, but those words turned me inside out.

"Now, you must be starving, so have a seat and let me make you breakfast." His hands move to my waist, and he pops me into one of the bar stools lined up along the island in the kitchen. Opening the freezer, he takes out one of those blue ice packs and brings it over to me. I take it and set it on my knee, and instantly the sting starts to fade. If I’d been home, most likely I would have ignored or forgotten about the minor injury, but with Rock looking after me, that was impossible.

Watching this big, bad biker crack eggs into a bowl, sauté onions and potatoes, and toast bread really gets to me. His T-shirt fits snugly over his heavily muscled back, and because he’s facing the stove, I’m able to openly admire him. Watching him work in the kitchen gets me so hot and bothered that by the time he sets my plate in front of me, I’m practically panting.

"You okay?"

I mumble an affirmative answer around a mouthful of eggs. "So good." I manage to force out before attacking the crispy potatoes. We eat in silence. After a few minutes, I push my plate away.

"I’m so stuffed."

Rock stares at me in awe. "You barely ate anything."

I shrug. "It’s a lot for me."

"You need to keep your energy up, babe."

"Oh yeah?"

He nods, finishes his coffee, and slides off his stool. Taking my hand, he leads me outside and across the wet grass. He pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and opens the side door to the massive garage taking up a good portion of his side and back yard. "I want to show you my workshop."

Okay, now I’m intrigued. Besides running the strip club and his motorcycle club—which now that I think about it is a hell of a lot more than a "club"—I wasn’t really sure what else he did. Of course, once we were inside, I felt silly for even wondering, because the space is filled with motorcycles in various stages of put-together-ness.

He walks me through each project. Considering he uses the space to work on what should be filthy vehicles, the garage is surprisingly clean. It hurts like lightning when I step on an upturned piece of metal with my bare foot.

"Ow!"

"Fuck. I forgot you weren’t wearing shoes."

In true Rock fashion, he sweeps me into his arms, sitting me down on the counter lining one wall of his garage. The pain is so intense I fear blood’s spurting everywhere. As Rock picks my foot up to examine it, I breathe a sigh of relief that everything is intact. For a few minutes, he works on rubbing the sting away before setting my foot down. Slowly he leans, placing one hand at the back of my head to angle my head for a kiss, and then seizes my lips. The sensual assault on my mouth ends abruptly, and he rains kisses down my neck until the T-shirt I’d borrowed gets in his way. He tugs it up and drops it on the counter next to me. My tank top doesn’t make much of an obstacle either—he simply slips the straps off my shoulders and pulls the material down, exposing my breasts to his hungry gaze and ferocious mouth. The pain in my foot becomes a distant memory.

The slow, seductive, teasing licks and kisses feel so good I squirm against him. Wanting, no, needing more. His hand dives between my thighs, the heel grinding against the seam of my jeans. Dear God, not quite enough pressure to get me off. But still so fucking good. The scent of Rock, his strength and skill—all of it overwhelms my senses. His body covers mine, and his hands work in between us to unfasten my jeans and tug them down my body.

My eyes flutter open, taking in the open side door. I want to tell him to slow down, his neighbors might see, but he shoves a finger inside me and my head lolls back. He keeps seeking, stroking until he’s pressed deep and finds that perfect spot that sends little shudders through my body. He adds another finger and oh, they keep rubbing that secret place. Dropping to his knees, he places my feet on his strong shoulders, spreading me wide, and sucks my clit into his mouth. The pressure, his flicking tongue, his magical fucking fingers—all of it makes me squirm, but he uses one hand across my stomach to hold me down and keeps up his seductive torture. The panting and moaning noises filling my ears are coming from my own mouth. My back arches as I explode in a powerful climax. Neighbors be damned because a scream rips from my throat and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Rock stands up slowl

y, letting my feet fall but pressing my knees to his hips. He rubs his hands along my body from exposed breasts to bare pussy. His arms slip around my waist, and he gathers me close, then drops his head to suck my nipple into his mouth.

A noise startles me out of my sex haze, and my eyes drift open…to see Wrath standing in the doorway. Arms folded across his chest, watching us.

Waiting.

My mouth opens to warn Rock or protest, but at that moment, his teeth bite down just enough on the tip of my nipple that my head falls back and a moan escapes instead of a warning.

Watching us.

I struggle and push against Rock, trying to pull my tank top into place. Wrath is still standing there with a lazy grin stretched across his lips.

"Don’t worry about me, darling. Nothing I haven’t seen before," he says with a wink.

Rock stands and spins so fast I’m almost thrown off the counter. His body shields me from view, and I’m grateful. I hike up the straps of my tank top.

"What the fuck!" he explodes.

Clearly shocked at his friend’s outburst, Wrath backs up a few steps. Good grief, they really do watch each other. I scramble into my T-shirt. My jeans are on the floor, so for the moment the T-shirt is all that’s covering me.

My cheeks burn with the sting of a nasty sunburn.

Sensing danger, Wrath holds out his hands. "Sorry. Door was open. I tried calling you."

"Out," Rock barks.

Wisely, Wrath backs out and shuts the door on his way.

I can’t help but burst into tears.

"Shhh. Hope, it’s okay. I’m sorry I got carried away."

"I can’t believe I’ve embarrassed myself in front of two of your friends already today!" I wail.

"Baby. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re beautiful. You’re mine. Don’t worry about it."

"But you’ve done stuff together before?"

Rock’s spine stiffens. "Please don’t tell me a three-way interests you, baby. I’ve known him more than half my life. He’s like a brother, but right now the thought of him touching you makes me want to slit his throat."

"No. God, no!"

He growls and takes my mouth in another one of his blistering kisses. The ferocity of his words and kiss should scare the shit out of me, but they don’t. In fact, his intensity turns me on, burning right through any lingering shame at being caught.

He breaks our kiss and picks up my jeans, handing them to me. I clutch them to my chest since it’s too awkward to put them on while I’m sitting on the counter. Rock seems to understand my hesitation to jump back down onto the concrete floor where I stepped on who knows what before, so he picks me up and carries me outside and into the house. In the mudroom, he sets me down so I can step into my jeans. Entering the kitchen, we find Wrath at the counter. He looks up and gives me a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, Hope."

My mouth twitches in a nervous smile, but I can’t form any words. Rock glares at his friend and nudges me inside.

"What are you doing here?"

"I gotta talk to you."

"You’re killing me. I already dealt with shit this morning with Z."

"This is about something else." Wrath’s eyes skip to me and then back to Rock.

Taking the hint, I give Rock a quick kiss on the cheek. "I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower." Feeling a little bolder now, I motion him toward me and whisper in his ear. "Join me when you’re done."

He makes this low, growly noise in his throat that sends tingles through my belly.

I know I need to deal with whatever has Wrath standing in my kitchen looking all twitchy. But I don't want to. I want to be upstairs in the shower with Hope. Soaping up her slick body, sucking on her hard nipples, and slamming my dick into her hot little pussy. The few seconds out in the garage before we were so rudely interrupted weren’t nearly enough.

"Prez, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—"

I cut him off to make things crystal clear. "Hope is off limits to you. I am not fucking around on this. You ever look at her in anything other than a friendly way, and I will fuck you up. You treat her with respect."

Wrath stares at me for a while before answering. "Got it. Maybe next time, you know, shut the fuckin’ door or something," he adds.

Laughter I didn’t want to indulge in tugs the corners of my mouth up. "Yeah. Didn’t mean to get carried away out there."

"I get it, bro. Chopped hogs, hot girl—"

He stops when he catches me glaring at him.

"What? I can’t notice how hot she is in a friendly, respectable way?" he taunts, throwing my words back at me with a grin.

Asshole.

I consider kicking his ass, but it seems like a lot of work when I have Hope waiting for me upstairs, with any luck, naked.

"Make this quick so I can go soap up my woman."

One corner of his mouth twists in a knowing smirk, but he wisely chooses not to comment. "We’ve got a big problem."

"Jesus, we always have big problems. What is it this time?"

"The brother of that fucker we took care of last year is in the area asking questions."

"You’re going to need to be more specific."

"Viper. But this is like an actual blood brother, not club brother."

"And he’s just now getting around to looking for the prick?"

Wrath shrugs. "He just got paroled."

"Goddammit. How many came with him?"

"Don’t know."

"Fuck! We really don’t need this now. We finally have peace between all three clubs."

"Got that, brother," he agrees. "He wants a meeting on neutral ground."

I glance up at the ceiling, envisioning all that soapy water sliding off Hope’s body. The last thing I need on my hands was another damn war with the Vipers.

"Nothing is neutral here."

He shrugs.

"Get everyone over to Crystal Ball. Call some of the Nomads in and a few of the downstate guys. See how long it will take them to get up here. I’ll call Ulfric."

"You’re gonna bring the Wolf Knights in on this?"

"Fuck, yeah. They need to know if shit’s about to blow up right next door to them." I stop and run my fingers through my hair, planning out the next few steps I need to take.

"I need to get Hope home."

"You better warn her."

Fuck.

"Warn me about what?"

No, no, no.

But yes, Hope’s standing in the doorway dressed in jeans and a thin blue v-neck sweater, her hair damp and curling around her pale face.

Wrath eye-fondles her for about five seconds too long, prompting me to clear my throat. Goddamn—he never quits.

"Go," I growl at Wrath. He shoots me a look that clearly says he’s glad not to be the one who has to stick around and explain this bullshit to Hope.

"I’ll get everyone together and send a prospect out to her house."

Motherfucker. I give him a murder glare, and he darts out the door.

Hope crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her breasts, momentarily distracting me.

"Up here, Rock," she says, pointing two fingers at my eyes and then back at hers, a slight smile on her lips. Good, she’s not pissed. Yet.

"A situation has come up with the club that I need to take care of."

"Strippers or Motorcycle?"

I huff out a laugh. "Motorcycle."

"Okay. What is the situation?"

"It’s too long to get into right now."

"Give me the condensed version."

"There's a rival club we had some issues with about two years ago. I thought things were settled, but someone has come up from another charter asking questions."

"That’s as clear as mud."

"It’s the best I can do right now."

Her face lights up with understanding, and I dread the question she’s about to toss out. "Does this have something to do with Glassman’s shooting and what you did to me back

in Slater City Court?"

"Sort of."

"Am I in danger?" Fuck me, but this woman is too smart for my own good.

"I don’t think so."

"You don’t think so?" she asks, disbelief dripping from each word.

Running my fingers through my hair, I’m stunned by how much this woman affects me already.

"You shouldn’t be." Because I put the two assholes who knew about you in the ground sixteen months ago. But I keep that last bit to myself. I don’t think she would appreciate the thoughtfulness of the gesture.

"Why does Wrath know where I live?"

I can lie and say he doesn’t, but I have an uncanny feeling she’ll know.

"Back when you first started doing work for me, I got some information that the Vipers had taken an unusual interest in you. So until that situation resolved itself, I used to send the guys over to be sure you were safe."

Her jaw drops, and she stares at me. "You put my life in danger? What if one of them had approached me at the office or when I was leaving court, in the parking garage?" Her voice rises with each word until she’s close to screaming decibels. "You didn’t think to warn me?"

"I needed to assess the situation. The best course of action was doing what I did that day in the courtroom."

Her eyes bug out even more. "That’s why you embarrassed me and almost ruined my career?" she asks with very little heat behind the words.

I round the counter and put my arms around her. Thank fuck she lets me and doesn’t push me away like I feared she might. "I am so sorry for that, baby. You have no idea how much I hated every second. The look on your face almost killed me. I just didn’t see another way. But you weren’t mine to protect then. If…if things had been different, I would have had you up at the clubhouse on lockdown with everyone else until it was safe."

"You could have warned me. Something." She sniffs and buries her head in my chest.

"The less you knew, the safer you were." It’s true but inadequate. Smoothing my hand over her damp hair, I think of how to make this right.