Chapter 8

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Wayne stepped into his house, kicked the door closed, picked Clara up, and pressed her against the wall. She wound her arms around his neck and opened her mouth at the urging of his lips. A moan bubbled out of her. He was hard.

Hard chest.

Hard hips.

Hard thighs.

Hard cock.

His body fit perfectly with hers, pressing on all the right places. She frantically thrust her hands in his hair. All. The. Right. Places.

Wayne whirled around with her in his arms and set her ass on the stair railing. She let go of his head and clung to his shoulders, pushing the sleeves of his T-shirt up to touch bare skin. His vest got in the way, and she wrapped her legs around his hips to steady herself and tugged on the material with her hands.

His mouth came off her. She gasped for breath, and then he kissed her again and moved her. Moved her as if she didn't weight a hundred and thirty pounds. She landed on the stairs with a moan he swallowed as he cushioned her back.

She tore her mouth away. "Clothes."

He pulled back, his knees on the step between her thighs. She wiggled her arms out of her shirt and pulled it over her head while Wayne shrugged out of his vest, then reached behind his neck and yanked his shirt over his head. She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him, and flattening her hands against his broad, bare, back.

Wayne captured her mouth again, dipping his tongue against hers. The warm stroking stirred her. She hooked her leg behind his thigh and arched against him, pulling him down until her back hit the edge of two steps on the stairs.

She trailed her fingers down and grabbed his ass, urging him closer. He lifted his head and undid the front of her bra with one hand. Her breasts fell free from the constraint, and she shuddered as her nipples hardened from the air and the situation.

Being with Wayne excited her. The randomness of her feelings being returned atop the hiccup in her and Gracie's plan led her to getting caught up in the pleasure of finding arousal and surprises at every corner since Wayne walked into the bar.

Wayne's mouth latched on to her nipple. Warm, wetness covered her breast from his tongue, his breath, his closeness. Losing all control of her body, her head landed on the upper step, and her hands went to his head, smoothing his hair, cradling him against her.

He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her jeans. She sucked in her breath, making it possible for his tug to get the denim over her hips.

Half stripped of her clothes, she sat up as Wayne left her. His gaze went upstairs. She ran her hands across his hard stomach, bringing his attention back to her.

"I should take you to my bedroom, but it's too fucking far away," he said, reaching behind him.

He took his wallet out, removed a condom, and tossed the billfold on the step she sat on. She undid his belt and unbuttoned the top button on his Levi's.

She pulled on the edges of his jeans, and his buttons gave away with a soft pop, pop, pop. "I want you here. Now."

Wayne stilled, looking down at his hard cock, then lifted his gaze to her, and ripped the condom open. She took the protection from him and rolled it on his hardness, stroking him. Her breathing grew rapid, and when he lowered himself below her on the steps, she willingly laid back and opened her legs wider.

He dipped his head. She gasped at the contact of heat from his mouth and his tongue stroking her pussy. Any idea that she'd had about having sex with him fled. She wanted him to continue what he was doing because obviously, he knew best.

He was a professional.

His tongue should be licensed.

He could definitely quit his day job and take care of her for days.

She wound her fingers in his hair, an urgency he created inside of her had her lifting her hips off the step. His simple tongue lashings were no longer enough. She needed something harder and invading.

God. She wanted him in her, taking that talent of his to the limit. She panted, rolling her hips, until her natural need consumed her and she arched against his mouth, searching for the part of him that would fill her.

Wayne raised his head. She bit down on her lip in anticipation. He wiped his mouth off on his bulging bicep as he crawled up the steps until he hovered above her. She trailed her hands down his ribs, down the flat surface of his stomach, to his cock. She savored the warmth coming from him, the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, the weight of his body against her inner thighs. The agonizing moments of waiting washed through her, leaving her trembling.

She hooked her ankles behind his thighs, using his haphazardly sagging jeans to get traction, and pulled her pelvis toward him. The head of his cock nudged her opening, and the air left her lungs.

"Please," she said, unembarrassed to beg.

He had her in a position of arousal where nothing was off the table. She'd whine, plead, and scream. There were few things she could think about with him above her that would be impossible.

He looked between their bodies. "You're ready."

Smart and talented.

She lowered her hand and fisted the base of his cock "Yes."

He slid inside of her, and she let go of him. The slow movement, long and deliberate, overwhelmed her. Her lips parted as she fought for breath. His body rocked her against the steps, and she flayed her arm in the air trying to reach the rail above her and settled for hanging onto the banister pole. Her body shuddered to find purchase against the rhythm of them coming together.

Her arms, her back, her legs trembled. The surface of her skin heated and a soft sound passed from her lips.

Wayne flexed between her legs, pressing all the way into her, and a whisper of her name came out in a growl. Her pussy pulsed, holding him tighter when he slid almost out and plunged back in. He reached down with his right arm and slid his hand under her ass, lifting her lower body as if she weighed nothing.

The extra height gave him more room. Her eyes closed at the firm knocking his cock provided inside of her. She panted, reaching, grasping, needing the orgasm that tottered just out of her reach.

He ground against her. Out slowly, in faster, bam. Again, and again, until her soft pulse pounded inside of her womb and she arched her neck, letting the pleasure wash over her. Half aware of Wayne taking longer, but quicker strokes, until he too trembled between her legs.

Wayne shifted and cradled her upper body from the harshness of the steps now showing up underneath her body. She sighed, keeping her eyes closed and luxuriated in the gentle rocking he continued to do against her as if he wanted to keep going, but his cock told him the job was done.

An A+ job. A phenomenal job. One for the record books.

His body quivered, and a soft, deep chuckle filled the air. She blinked her eyelids open and realized he was amused.

Amused?

She tilted her head to the side and looked at him. His heavy-lidded gaze looked back at her. "What's funny?"

"You hummed."

"When?" she asked.

"Just now. Afterward." He lifted his weight off her without leaving. "Hummed...like a song."

"No way," she said.

"Sweetheart, I know what humming sounds like."

She wiggled until she could get her elbows onto the step and lifted her head. "What song?"

He slid out of her and stood, taking off the condom and holding the used latex between his thumb and finger. "I don't know."

"Then, how do you know it was humming?" She sat up and grabbed her shirt that had been tossed over the railing and pulled the material over her head. "Maybe it was the sound of pleasure, or I exhaled louder than normal."

"It was a tune." He walked around the corner out of sight.

She leaned forward and scooped up her panties and jeans, took three steps to the landing, and put the rest of her clothes on. Wayne must've misheard her. She wasn't a hummer. Once in a while a song would come on the radio, and she'd sing along—both her and Gracie couldn't carry a tune, but she wasn't thinking of music when they were having sex.

Her brain hadn't even been working. All she could do was feel...wonderful.

Wayne returned rubbing a towel over his face, his jeans fastened, and bare-chested. He leaned in and kissed her softly, lingering on her mouth. A tingle of peppermint tickled her lips.

"You brushed your teeth." She pressed her hand against his stomach, happy with his consideration.

Talented, smart, and polite. The list of highlights in favor of Wayne kept getting longer.

She hated the few times in the past when men performed oral sex on her and then tried to kiss her mouth, forcing her to taste herself.

He gently pulled back from the kiss and kept his hand on her back. "What time do you need to be at the bar tomorrow?"

"I'll need to go home first to shower and dress for work. So, eleven o'clock. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that works. I don't have to work tomorrow." He stepped away. "I just wanted to know if you needed to get your sleep right now or if you wanted something to eat? I'm starving."

She pressed her hand to her stomach. Now that he'd mentioned his appetite, she was hungry. She'd worked through dinner without taking a break to eat. "Sure, that sounds good. What do you have in mind?"

He led the way to the kitchen. "Pancakes are my go-to food. Add water, stir, pour on the griddle."

"Want me to help?"

"Nope." He removed the sack of pancake mix from the cupboard, a bowl, and turned around. "Hope you like syrup on them. I don't have jam or peanut butter."

"Syrup is fine." She wandered over to the window and put her hand on the glass to look outside into the darkness. The street light from the street behind Wayne's house helped light the yard. "Do you mind if I go outside in the backyard?"

He shrugged. "Go ahead. The back door has a deadbolt you'll have to turn."

She unlocked the window and slid it open a few inches. When she turned around, she found Wayne looking at her curiously. "That's in case I scream, you can hear me."

"Afraid of the dark?" he asked.

"No." She forced her voice louder. "Just staying safe."

"I can see you out the window. The yard is enclosed by a six-foot fence, and I know every neighbor around me." He winked. "And, the window is open. You'll be safe."

She walked out of the room, knowing the door to the backyard was located in the garage. Outside, she found the chairs from yesterday still in the grass and sat down. The night air chilled her, and she brought her legs up and planted her feet on the edge of the chair, folding her arms against the front of her. The typical night sounds of cars in the distance, a barking dog, and crickets serenaded her. She yawned. It'd been awhile since she'd been relaxed enough to do nothing.

Hopefully, a year from now, her life would slow down, and business at the bar would thrive. Her and Gracie both had goals that in sixth months, they'd have enough experience from running the bar, they could take a more managerial position at Vavoom's and hire a full-time team to run the floor.

In a year, hopefully, their plan for Wayne and Notus Motorcycle Club would be finished, and he'd forgive her.

The door opened behind her. She turned her head and found Wayne carrying two plates in his hand. "What's this?"

"I didn't want to make you come in." He handed her a plate. "You looked relaxed, so I thought we'd eat out here."

She put her feet on the ground and looked down at the pile of pancakes. "This looks delicious."

Syrup threatened to overflow onto her legs. She used the fork and cut into the stack of pancakes, leaning forward so not to drip butter and syrup on the front of her. The sweet sugar rush a delight on her tongue in the middle of the night.

Wayne concentrated on his plate. She took a bite for every third bite he took. Her mind, body, and soul content.

Before she knew it, she'd eaten all three pancakes. She leaned back in the chair, full and happy. "Thank you."

"Welcome." He took her plate, stacked it on top of his, and pulled her to her feet. "Let's go to bed."

She smiled at him in the dark. He'd said that as if it was a habit and they'd ended the day with sex and pancakes on a daily basis, for months. She hugged his arm while holding on to his hand.

Wayne placed the dishes in the sink, shut off the lights, and guided her to the stairs. Halfway up the steps, he stopped. "Kings of Leon."

"What?"

He looked at her. "They sing the song you were humming earlier. Sex on Fire."

She laughed and smacked his arm. "Stop it."

"Swear it." He kissed her quickly and chuckled.

She shook with laughter all the way to his bedroom. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined Wayne, president of Notus MC, teasing her or so fun to be around. The normal awkwardness of first-time sex with another person never showed up between them. Everything that had to do with him seemed almost too perfect.

A phone beeped in Wayne's back pocket, and two seconds later the doorbell rang. She dropped his hand and stood beside the bed.

"Hang on a second. I need to answer the door." He kept his eyes on the screen of his phone and walked out of the room.

She followed him to the bedroom doorway and stopped. It was early morning, too early for people to be awake and visiting.

In her sight, Wayne opened the front door at the bottom of the stairs. Glen walked inside. Clara stepped back planning to crawl into bed and give Wayne privacy when Glen said, "A girl is missing."

A chill traveled along her spine. Glen was a whistler when he wasn't talking, eating, or drinking. Tonight, he wasn't whistling. She stepped forward, staying out of sight.

"Where?" said Wayne.

"Two blocks from Port Loader. Her parents said she was walking to the gas station to meet one of her friends yesterday after dinner with plans to drive to Lloyd Center to go shopping for their prom dresses." Glen's voice grew louder. "The friend said she never showed up, so she went to her house. Her parents started looking for her within a half hour of when she left the house."

"How did you find out about her?"

"Travis from the P.D. called with a message from Gomez with a heads up. They can't officially do anything for twenty-four hours, but he knows the family. The girl is a straight A student, doesn't drink or do drugs and has a happy home life."

"Fuck," muttered Wayne.

"If we can get out there, we could get lucky."

"Yeah. I hear you," said Wayne. "I need to take Clara home first."

"She's here?"

Wayne must've nodded because Clara couldn't hear his answer. She walked out of the bedroom. Her purse was on the little table by the door, and she was already dressed. Halfway down the stairs, Wayne and Glen looked up at her.

"I heard your conversation." She stepped off the last step. "I can call a taxi. You both should go now."

"I'll take you home." Wayne walked over to the railing and grabbed his shirt and his vest. "Glen, give Chuck and Thad a call."

"Already done. They're meeting us at the gas station." Glen nodded at Clara. "I'll wait outside."

"We're right behind you." Wayne grabbed the helmets off the floor by the door and handed one to Clara. "Your place is on the way."

"Okay." She hurried to keep up with him, knowing his need to hurry.

At his motorcycle, he stopped and held her to him, whispering in her ear. "Sorry, sweetheart."

"No, don't worry about it. I totally understand." She hugged him back, tilting her head to kiss him. "You need to go."

He held still. "You're awake enough to ride?"

"Wide awake." She waited until he got on the motorcycle, started the engine, and then she climbed on behind him.

Her adrenaline and unanswered questions would make sleep impossible. Another girl missing? The coincidence of her moving back to St. Johns and two girls went missing in the last month wasn't lost on her. She needed to get back to Gracie.