Strength from Loyalty (Lost Kings MC 3)

I cross my arms over my chest and try to close my mouth. Never heard D spout off like that. “You all right, bro?”

He nods briefly. “Yeah, just statin’ facts. That woman fuckin’ adores you. Looks at you like you’re the only man in the world. Don’t fuck that up. Way more valuable than nailing skanks who spread for anyone with a dick.”

Z gives him the side-eye before continuing. “Whatever. You’re both fucked in the head. Never seen so many unhappy whores. Hope’s vagina must be lined in gold.”

“Actually, it’s lined in platinum,” comes a soft voice from the doorway.

The shock on Z’s face amuses me so much I forget that I want to break his neck for talking about my woman that way.

He mumbles out an apology.

I take a good look at my girl. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts. It almost reaches her knees, but I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing a damn thing else. Her hair is all mussed, and she’s so gorgeous I can’t stand my brothers stealing an ounce of her beauty with their hungry gazes.

“Eyes elsewhere, assholes,” I grumble at them before turning to Hope. “Baby doll, what are you doing down here?”

I bite back the “dressed like that” part, but I think she senses it because she twists her fingers into the hem of the T-shirt, which doesn’t exactly improve the situation.

“I got up, and you were gone,” she says simply.

“I needed to grab something,” I explain.

Eyes sparkling with amusement, she leans against the door frame, crosses her arms over her chest, and lifts her chin at Z. “So wild pussy, huh? Did you take up Rock’s slack?”

The asshole actually turns red, and I lose it, laughing so hard my gut aches. When I finally catch my breath, Z’s glaring at me. By the twitch at the corner of his mouth, I know he’s more amused than pissed. I return to what I originally came down here to do, but not before I catch a sly grin spread over Z’s face.

“Actually, Hope, I did not partake. You can feel free to pass that along to your friend.”

Hope’s gaze skitters to me for confirmation, and I shrug. “I don’t keep track of who garages his dick, babe.”

She wants to be outraged, but her lip twitches, giving her away. “You’re awful.”

“Now Murphy, on the other hand. Bro collected mouth hugs like fucking quarters,” Z adds.

Hope shakes her head. “That’s a mental image I could have done without.”

Unlocking my personal cabinet, I tug out the plain brown box. Thank fuck, when her cut arrived, after I examined it to make sure they got the patches right, I put it back in the box. It’s safe, secure, and ready for my girl. Grabbing the box, I salute Z with my middle finger.

Wrapping an arm around Hope’s waist, I pull her out of the room with me.

“Bye, guys.” She waves over her shoulder.

Determining she’s wearing underwear by running my hand over her ass, I ask her to hold the package and swing her up into my arms.

“What’s in it?”

“Nothing. Don’t open it.”

Her lips part to protest, I’m sure.

“I mean it, Hope.”

She bristles but settles down.

Voices come out of Murphy’s room, one definitely whiny, and I wonder which club girl is up here so early.

When we get inside my room, I set Hope down and turn on the light.

“Sit down. I want to show you something.”

Her face twitches and she hops from foot to foot. “Can I run to the bathroom first?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

While she’s gone, I arrange things the way I want them.

And then lose my motherfuckin’ mind when she opens the bathroom door.

The awed expression on Rock’s face is even better than I’d imagined. Propping my arm up over my head in the doorway, I cock my hip in what I hope is a more seductive than awkward pose.

“Uh, whatcha wearing, doll?”

Running my hands over the bra cups, I stop to plump my breasts. A strangled groan is all I hear from Rock’s side of the room, and I smother a smile. I slide my hands down to my hips, smoothing them over the satin garter skirt. My fingers skip down to adjust the garters holding up my sheer black stockings. Then I twist to check the ones in the back.

“Turn around, babe.”

Holding on to the door frame, I do a little spin, arching my back and running my hand over the skirt that doesn’t really do much to cover my ass.

“I thought it came with panties, but I guess it didn’t,” I tease.

“Looks fine to me. Now quit messing around and get the fuck over here.”

The sky-high black platform pumps I borrowed from Trinity click softly over the floor as I make my way to him.

His arm encircles my waist when I reach him, sliding around my back so his hand curls over my hip. He tugs me down to the trunk at the end of the bed so we’re sitting, legs touching from hip to knee. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, he murmurs, “When did you get this?”

“Yesterday.”

“I like. In fact, I think it goes very well with this.” From behind his back, he pulls out a black leather vest.

The sight of it makes my stomach churn. My hands tremble. Longing so intense hits, surprising me.

“Hey, you look so serious.”

He spreads the vest out on his lap so I can see the patches on the back.

Somewhere inside me, I wonder if I should be insulted. A voice taunts me, saying I shouldn’t want to be branded like cattle. It’s archaic and wrong. But a calmer voice overrides my inner sarcasm, cherishing the feeling of belonging to someone. This is a symbol of how much I’m wanted, protected, loved by this wonderful man.

With cautious fingers, I reach out to trace the embroidered words. “I didn’t think you still wanted me to have it.” What I mean is I’m not sure I deserve something of this magnitude.

His rough fingers brush down my face, chasing away some of my anxiety. “Baby doll, there is no one else who could ever wear this. You’re the only woman I’ve ever offered my patch.”

My heart squeezes.

He flips it over to show me the patch that reads “First Lady” on the left side.

Four smaller symbols along the bottom right catch my attention. Tracing my fingers over them, I seek his eyes. “What are these?”

His mouth curves into a soft smile. “Your seal of approval from the other officers.”

“What?”

He points to the green four-leaf clover. “That’s Murphy’s. The dollar sign is Teller’s. The Z is… Well, you can figure that out because he’s not very creative.”

Rock tips his head up, a smirk playing over his lips.

“This last one.” He points to a blue-and-black nautical star. “That’s Wrath’s.”

Thinking about it, I remember he has a bigger one of these on his own cut and at least two of them tattooed on him. “He voted me in too?”

“Yeah, doll. That means they’ve always got your back.”

“Wait, where’s yours?”

He cocks his head and points to the crown over the first lady patch. “Right there, babe.”

I’m not sure what to say, so I lean over, wrap my hand around the back of his neck, and pull him to me for a long, drugging kiss. Barely breaking contact, he stands us up and holds the vest for me to slip into. There are several slim buckles on each side, and he works to fit the vest to my shape.

Once he arranges it the way he wants, he twirls his finger in the air, asking me to spin for him.

“That’s perfect, baby doll.” He turns his head. “Go stand in front of the dresser and take a look.”

With the heels giving me the extra height, I can see the entire outfit, including a hint of my bits peeking from beneath the flounce of the tiny garter skirt.

Our eyes meet in the mirror as he slowly approaches me.

He stops behind me, just watching. Then he slips something over my head, dangling it in front of me. A necklace.

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“What’s that?” I ask, reaching out to touch the simple gold anchor pendant suspended sideways between a delicate gold chain.

“For you. Didn’t think you’d be ready for some ink, so I got you this instead.”

My throat constricts and tears fill my eyes. I’m stunned. Bewildered. Between his tattoo, the vest, and the pendant, it seems the entire time he’d been away, I’d never been far from his mind.

I’m so motherfuckin’ turned on.

My girl wearing my patch and some of the sexiest scraps of lace I’ve ever seen has me ready to blow. As she lets me drape the necklace over her head, a calmer feeling settles over me. The gold chain glitters over her pale skin, highlighting the beautiful angles of her collarbones.

Meeting her gaze in the mirror, I can sense her uncertainty. I reach out and mold myself to her body, cupping her hips and pulling her against me. Sliding my hands down, I knead the flesh of her plump little ass.

Her hair is all twisted up in this sexy, messy little knot, and I grab it, angling her head so her neck is exposed for my tongue. Very slowly, I make my way to her ear, gently licking. She lets out a mewl and her hips shoot back, bumping my cock.

“Put your hands on the dresser,” I whisper in her ear.

This tiny fucking skirt thing is killing me. I’m so damn turned on knowing while I was away, she went out and bought this skimpy thing to surprise me when I returned.

As I run my finger under one of the garter straps, she exhales sharply. “That tickles,” she moans.

I love my girl like this, all breathy and needy. “Stay like that.”

Keeping my eyes trained on her, I walk backward to my nightstand and grab a condom. My cock’s in my hand and I’m rolling down the latex before I get back to her.

Once again, I squeeze and stroke her ass cheeks, pushing and spreading. “Arch your back.”

My hand slips lower to her satiny pussy. Little shudders work through her body as I push into her from behind. My hands smooth up and down her thighs. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Just be gentle.”

“Always.”

My thighs coil with tension, wanting desperately to slam into her. Slow. I give it to her slow, until my cock fucking throbs with every stroke. She quivers and gasps. I flatten my chest against her back, finding her clit and rubbing until she yelps, short, sharp little cries of pleasure. I’m rocking into her so hard the dresser thumps against the wall, but I can’t pull back. Her pussy keeps squeezing me so fucking tight. She bucks wildly against me, and I lose it. I come with a burst of violent intensity.

“Fuuuuck!”

She’s whimpering in my arms and still grinding backward on my half-hard cock.

“Baby, stop.” I grip her hips, trying to still her restless movements. Her skin’s covered in a fine sheen of sweat. We both are, actually. I kick my pants the rest of the way off, then unzip her vest and set it on top of the dresser.

“Shoes off, babe.” She gingerly steps out of them, and I lead her to the bed, where I drop the condom in the wastebasket.

I love her sexy little outfit, but I also want to feel all of her soft skin against me. Once I figure out the top half, I seat her on the edge of the mattress, unhook the garter, and work the stockings down her legs. “Scoot.”

She hasn’t said a word, and her silence worries me. Once I get her in my arms, I stroke her hair. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. It was… amazing.”

She’s right.

I’ve never been the type of guy to kick a girl out of bed. I never exactly encouraged any to stay either. But snuggling and cuddling with them afterward?

Fuck no.

A slap on the ass and something along the lines of “thanks for a good time” were as cuddly as I got.

That was before Hope.

Now I can’t wait to snuggle down with her.

Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

“Tell me what you did while I was gone, baby doll,” I ask while running my hand over her hair.

She props her chin up on my chest, arm banding around my waist. “You mean besides miss you like crazy?”

“Yeah.”

She lets out a, “Hmmm,” and rolls over to her back. “Went out with Trinity yesterday. Got my hair trimmed. We went and bought the outfits.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh. Oops.”

I turn and face her. “I’m not sure how I feel about the two of you trying on sexy outfits together.”

She snorts. “You’ve watched too many pornos. It wasn’t like that at all.”

I chuckle because she’s probably right.

“What’s their deal, anyway?” I cock an eyebrow at her, and she rolls her eyes at me. “Wrath and Trinity.”

Now I roll my eyes. I’d need a year and a lot of scotch to tell that story. “Christ. They have a long, fucked-up history, Hope. Some of it is my fault. They seem to finally be working their shit out. Leave it at that.”

She makes a noise that tells me she’s not satisfied with my answer, so I decide to change the subject.

“I heard you took Heidi shopping for a prom dress. That was sweet of you.”

“You heard about that?”

She tenses up, and I can’t figure out why. Then something occurs to me.

“Hope—”

“Please don’t.”

Fuck.

“Tell me she’s not knocked up. Tell me I don’t have to murder Axel.”

She lets out a long sigh. “No. Not at all.”

My racing heart calms. “So it really was just prom dresses?”

That tension again. “Please don’t ask me. I promised her.”

“Promised what?”

“Club comes first, right? So if I tell you, you’ll tell her brother, and it will cause a big fucking mess. But I don’t want to lie to you either, so please just drop it.”

I turn her words over. Club comes first. Yes. Hope is going to be my wife. She also comes first. Not everyone in my world would agree with that, but my way of thinking is I can keep her secrets if sharing them would be bad for the club. Presidential discretion and all that.

After I work it out in my head, I explain this to her.

“You promise?”

I grit my teeth. “Yes.”

“She wanted me to take her to the clinic for birth control.”

My anger ignites at my girl having to endure that. “Aw, fuck. Baby, after everything you just went through? Jesus Christ.”

“She didn’t know. Look, she’s not there yet with Axel. She just wanted to be prepared in case.”

I shake my head. Why the fuck do I need to know these things? And why is my woman the sweetest damn person I’ve ever known? How did I get so lucky?

I kind of want to shake Heidi hard next time I see her. Then I remember her as a kid. I’ve known the little troublemaker since she was in fuckin’ pigtails. “I’m going to have to keep that fuckin’ prospect real busy,” I mutter.

“Oh, please. Like you weren’t doing the same at seventeen.”

Never mind what I was doing. The thought of some horny teenage dickwad putting his hands all over my sweet, innocent Hope pisses me off. “Were you?” I shoot back.

“Yes. And I didn’t have anyone to go with me to the doctor, so I’m glad I was there with her.”

I roll over and cup her jaw, running my finger over her cheek. “You’re the sweetest. Thank you.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No. Honestly, it’s none of my business what she does with her body. He’s not that much older than her. It’s not fucking illegal. As long as he doesn’t hurt her, I’d rather not know about it.”

“Well, I had the ‘don’t let anyone talk you into things you’re not ready for’ chat with her.”

I snort, imagining that conversation must have been a load of fun for both of them.

“She wanted to know if I’ve seen Axel with girls up here.”

“And?”

“I haven??

?t, so I told her so. She said she knows how bikers are. Pretty fucked up for a kid, no?”

“Not really. Her grandmother has strong opinions about us. Heidi’s mom spent time as a club whore before she took off and left her with the grandmother.”

“Here?”

“No.” I think about the wisdom of Heidi asking Hope questions about her man. “Uh, babe. Part of being an ol’ lady now. You can’t be starting trouble. She asks you a question like that again and you know different, you need to just lie.”

She jackknifes into a sitting position. “What are you talking about? If I see him cheat on her, I’m not supposed to say anything?”

“Correct.”

“That’s the code around here? So if you had availed yourself of some ‘wild pussy’ on your trip, no one would have told me?”

“No,” I say simply.

“If you nailed someone here, no one would tell me either, would they?”

“I’m not nailing anyone but you, so fucking drop it.”

I should know better by now. Telling my mouthy lawyer woman to drop something is about the same as waving a red flag in front of a bull.

“No. That’s bullshit. If someone’s in an open relationship, she should at least know about it. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“You are not in an open relationship. No one else’s relationship is our business.”

Her voice takes on a deadly soft tone. “So that means if I fuck someone else, no one would tell you either?”

“No. That’s not what it means. You better fucking believe if you so much as ever look at another man, I’ll be the first one to know about it.”

She glares at me.

I glare right back.

“Why are we even talking about this, Hope? No one else here even has a committed relationship, so why are we talking about these ridiculous what ifs? And no, two horny teenagers do not count as a committed relationship.”

A heavy sigh escapes her. “Fine. But know this: if I catch Wrath with someone, I’ll tell Trinity.”

Jesus Christ, she’s a pain in my ass.

“Yeah, and what if you catch Trin in a Teller/Murphy sandwich? You gonna go tell him that too?”

First, she wrinkles her nose. Then I see the gears turning in her head. She sucks in a deep breath, eyes going all owl-wide. “Oh my. Lucky girl.”