Throne of Scars (Lost Kings MC 20) - Page 79
“Do I need to worry she’s going to retaliate against me in some way?”
“Absolutely not.”
We’ll see about that. “The girls around here won’t know what to do without being bullied and harassed by her.”
“From the sounds of it, they haven’t banned many ol’ ladies over the years. It was common before I went inside…but that was usually so brothers didn’t get caught with—”
“Their side-pieces?”
“Well, yeah.”
I squint, then blurt out the worst possible question. “Did you do that when you were married to Rose? Fool around with club girls when you were at the clubhouse? The old clubhouse was next to the strip club, right? You must’ve had access to—”
“Never. Before she and I met, sure.” His eyes take on a distant look that doesn’t ease my fears. “But once we were together, I was too consumed with her to worry about anyone else.”
Consumed with her. I could’ve happily never heard him talk about his ex that way.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my—”
“Serena, you can always ask me whatever you want. If it’s club stuff—”
“You can’t tell me, I know.”
“I’ll tell you what I can.” He stares over my shoulder for a few seconds. “And don’t ask me about my time inside. I really don’t want to relive any of that.”
“Grayson,” I sigh and lean into him, wrapping my arms around his middle. “You can always talk to me about it, if you want to, though.”
“Thank you, buttercup.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grinder
“Do you want to join everyone for breakfast?” I suggest after delivering the news about Tawny’s banishment. Being so close to her, I can’t help but lean in and kiss her neck. “Or we can stay here. I’ll ask someone to bring us food.”
She sighs and melts against my body. “Here is good.” She trails her lips over my cheek to my neck.
A shiver of pleasure runs over my skin.
“Take this off,” she whispers, tugging at my shirt. She pulls away and slips off her T-shirt.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, studying every bare inch. I reach for her breast, barely flicking my thumb over her nipple before she pulls away.
“Shirt off. Then you can touch me as much as you want.”
“Feeling bossy today, huh?” I slip off my cut, then yank my shirt over my head. “Better?”
“Much.” Graceful, like a ballerina, she lifts herself and settles into my lap, looping her arms around my neck. Her fingers twine into my hair, sending a pleasurable, shivery sensation traveling down my spine.
“Mmm, this is what I wanted.” She presses her breasts against my chest. She’s so damn soft and warm against me. I stroke my fingers over her sides and she giggles. “That tickles.”
“Wasn’t trying to tickle you.”
A quick thump, thump, thump rattles the door to our room.
“What the fuck?” I growl, pulling away from her.
Serena laughs softly and presses more kisses against my chest. “This weekend was supposed to be a party in your honor.”
“I socialized.” I lean in and kiss her, then untangle myself from her embrace. “I want time alone with my woman, though.”
She rolls over, pulling the blanket with her. “I’ll be waiting.”
The banging starts again. “G, hurry up!”
I fling the door open. “What?”
“We gotta go. Grab your shit,” Rooster shouts in my face. He drags Shelby into my room behind him and slams the door shut.
“What? Why? What’s wrong?” I fire off questions but I’m already sweeping my things off the dresser and stuffing my wallet in my pocket. Thank fuck I hadn’t unpacked my bag.
Serena’s already up and gathering her clothes.
“Got your wallet?” Rooster asks me. “Anything that identifies you?”
“Yeah.” I pat my pocket. “What’s going on?”
“Cops are at the gate with a warrant to search the place.” He wraps his arm around Shelby.
“Shit.” I stab my fingers through my hair. “I can’t be here.”
“No shit, that’s why we’re moving you.” He glances down at Shelby. “She can’t be here either. Tabloids will tear her to shreds.”
She opens her mouth.
“Don’t argue with me, chickadee,” Rooster grumbles.
More knocking at the door. Rooster flings it open.
“Are they ready?” Jigsaw asks. “We gotta go now.”
“Ready.” Serena wraps her hand around mine and slings her bag over her shoulder.
Rooster turns and that’s when I realize he’s got a pink flamingo backpack over his shoulder. “Nice travel gear, brother.” I slap his back.
Shelby giggles and takes his hand. “It’s mine.” Her gaze lands on Jigsaw. “Aw, Jiggy, you grabbed my guitar for me, thank you.” She holds out her hands for it, but he motions for her to keep moving.
“Fuck knows how long you’ll be down there, you might need to entertain everyone.”
“That ain’t funny.” She scowls. “I gotta be in the studio Monday.”
“We’ll get rid of ’em. Don’t worry,” Rooster promises.
Rooster and Jigsaw take the lead, hauling us down one long hallway after another, then down two flights of metal stairs. The scent of chlorine stings my nose and humidity clings to the air.
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