Chapter Twenty-Four

Blood shoved the phone in his pocket and turned back to the clubhouse. The parking lot and picnic tables were now empty, everyone having headed back inside as the mosquitos came out in force with the night air. He, too, headed inside and glanced around, not seeing Cat. He grabbed Marla’s arm as she passed him. “Where’s Cat?”

“She said she was going upstairs. I think she was tired.”

He nodded. “Thanks, babe.”

His brothers were gathered at the bar now, and they flagged him down with a shot. He only intended to have one, but it was hours before he finally called it a night.

When he went up to his room, expecting to find Cat, the room was empty. He strode down the hall to the room she’d been using previously. He tapped on the wood with his knuckle, his shoulder to the frame. A moment later, Cat answered. “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

The door opened.

She stood there dressed in nothing but one of his flannel shirts she’d confiscated and her panties. His eyes swept over her, and then he straightened and pushed inside. She backed up a step. His brows rose, and there was a bite to his voice when he asked, “What are you doing in here?”

She glanced at the bed. “I was going to sleep. I figured you’d be with those guys from out of town, partying all night.”

In a bed other than his? Oh hell no.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room and down the hall, disregarding her objections or the way she pulled back.

“Blood, what are you doing? Are you crazy?” she hissed.

He dragged her into his room and slammed the door.

She took a step back, not at all sure what to expect from him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, dragging me around like that?”

“This separate bedroom bullshit is done with. If you’re in my clubhouse, then you’re in my bed.” He arched his brows. “And that’s where I want you. Now.”

She arched her brows right back at him. “Oh, really? You think you can just order me around.”

“Yup. And what’s more, you like it. You like me taking control. You’re nipples are hard. I can see ‘em right through the shirt.” He lifted his chin.

She folded her arms over her chest and denied it. “They are not.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

Her chin came up. She knew it was.

“Done talkin’. Now drop the shirt.”

Her hands landed on her hips. “After you just hauled me down the hallway barely dressed? Nuh-uh. We’re not having sex now.”

“That’s exactly what we’re gonna do. I need this. I need you.” He moved to the door and threw the lock, his eyes never leaving hers. “This is how it’s gonna be.”

“No.”

He prowled slowly toward her, his gaze sweeping over her bare legs and his eyes darkening. “No is not an option. You are a necessity.”

“You can’t always have your way.”

“There are things we can negotiate. This isn’t one of them.”

She licked her lips, and he cocked a brow at her, reading her mind. She liked this—him taking control. That’s exactly what she wanted him to do.

“You like this. Are you going to deny it?” He kept advancing and lifted his chin toward the shirt. He didn’t have to say it again.

Her fingers moved to the buttons, and she shimmied it off her shoulders, the soft fabric pooling on the floor at her feet. His eyes swept over her, taking in every inch of that exposed skin.

Her arms lifted, her hands going to her panties, but he stopped her. His voice was low and gravelly as he leaned to her ear, nipping it. “I didn’t say you could move.”

Her breath caught, and he watched her pretty white teeth bite into her plump bottom lip. His eyes swept down her body to the panties.

“Those are mine.” He bent and slowly slid them down her legs, watching her reaction as he hung them on the bedpost. “They stay right there.”

He took her by the arm and spun her around to face the bed. Bending her over it, he kicked her ankles wide with his boot to spread her open as he fumbled with his jeans, releasing the huge erection she’d given him. He slipped his fingers between her legs. Fuck, yes. She was wet and ready. He played with her for a moment, spreading her lubrication over both of them. Then he drove into her and fucked her. There were no pretty words for it. He fucked her in long, hard, deep strokes, the kind that had the bed moving every time he slammed home.

He adjusted his angle until he found the one that had her crying out and begging for more. He found the spot that had her losing all control—that spot inside her that caused those delicious moans to rise up from her throat. He answered her with a grunting rumble of his own that rose up from deep within his chest.

She was so hot, so good. He knew he’d never get enough of her. Never.

She was face down on the bed under him, her hands fisted in the sheet, her elbows tucked tight under her.

His body pressed down on her, looming over her. His left hand slid around her throat, lifting her head to him as he kissed her cheekbone.

“You there yet, baby? I can’t hold back any longer.” He let go to slide his fingers between her legs. He found that trigger and a moment later she exploded in orgasm. He straightened, grabbed her hips again, and held her tight as he hammered like a piston in and out of her, then planted himself solid as his own climax detonated inside her.

He collapsed beside her, his lungs working like bellows in his sweat-covered chest. He turned his head to look at her. “You okay, babe?”

She nodded and scooted closer, her arm going across his chest.

He repositioned them in the bed, tucking her against his side, their heads on the pillow.

“Blood? Is everything okay?”

He rolled on top of her, going up on his elbows to look down at her face, his hand brushing the hair back from her forehead. “It is now.”

She tried to smile, and he saw the sadness in her eyes and noticed the dried tear tracks down her cheeks. His thumbs brushed over them and he frowned. “Cat, did I hurt you?”

She shook her head.

“You were crying before, pretty girl. Why?”

“What if Holly ends up back with the Death Heads?” she whispered. “I want my sister, Blood.”

“I’ll get her, Cat. Don’t worry,” he tenderly reassured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I trust you, Blood. I believe you.”

He pulled back to look in her eyes. “I told you before, I’m not like the other bikers you’ve known. You starting to see that?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.”

He needed to let it all go. Right now he didn’t want to think about what tomorrow may bring. He didn’t want to think about the fact that this may be their last night together. He didn’t want to think about the fact that if he went back to his father, he may very well lose Cat in the process.

He knew what his father would expect from him. He’d have to run Black Jack’s dirty business—a business he wanted nothing to do with. And he’d have to do it with men who weren’t his brothers, men he couldn’t trust, men whose only loyalty was to the almighty buck. The whole idea made him sick.

But maybe the only way to bring Black Jack down was from the inside. At least that way he could turn the tide on this alliance his father seemed hell-bent on with the Death Heads. At least he could put a stop to that. His father would no longer feel the need to drive the Evil Dead MC out. They would no longer be a threat to him, because really, the only reason he couldn’t abide them was because Blood had chosen them over him.

But setting aside his club, taking off his cut, for good? Could he bring himself to do it?

He brushed the hair back from Cat’s face and stared down into her trusting blue eyes. How could he not?

He slid down her stomach, kissing every inch of her skin, determined to make it up to her for his earlier roughness. He suckled at her nipples and then glided down farther to her belly button, and then farther, spreading her legs. He noticed some small bruises the size of his fingertips and kissed each one. Then he settled between her thighs. She groaned.

“You sore, baby doll?”

She nodded.

“Blood’s gonna make it all better. I promise, baby.” Then he set his mouth to her and went about keeping that promise.

***

It was long past midnight, and Blood still hadn’t found sleep.

Cat tipped her head up from his chest to see his eyes were open. “Blood?”

“Hmm?” He stroked her back as he stared at the ceiling above the bed.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He gently pushed her back down to his chest. “I won’t, pretty girl.”

She drew circles on the club tattoo over his heart with the tip of her finger. “Would you leave this all behind? Would you leave the MC?”

His hand paused in its motion on her back. Her question came just as he was thinking of doing exactly that, just not in the way she was meaning. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “I just wondered.”

“Does it bother you that I’m in an MC?

She didn’t answer him. “What are you going to do about your father?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“And you don’t give me any answers.”

“Answers are something I can’t always give.”

“You’re not going to kill him are you?”

“Why? You don’t think he deserves it?”

“It’s not that, it’s just…”

“What?”

“I don’t want that for you. I don’t want you to have to carry the weight of that around with you. Another stone for you to carry.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That’s what your aunt said—that you carried the bad things around with you like a heavy stone.”

“My aunt needs to stay out of it.”

“She loves you. I could tell.”

“Cat, whatever I do about Black Jack won’t keep me up at night. Believe me.”

“He’s your father, Blood.”

“He’s a piece of shit. Babe, I’ll kill him, and I promise you, I’ll have no lingering regret at all.”

“You could go to prison or get killed.”

“Cat, I wasn’t asking permission.”