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CHAPTER NINE: CHROME

That was the question, wasn’t it? What the fuck am I doing here? I sent Cicely away from the clubhouse because I knew she was no longer safe there. At least not until I uncover the fucking rat and slit his goddamn throat. But just because Cicely was no longer in the clubhouse didn’t mean she was out of danger. The fucking traitor could use her to get to me.

“I wanted to see if I could catch who was watching your apartment and slashed your tires,” I tell her.

Her eyes widen. “Oh. Right. Have you seen anyone?”

“No, but I’ll stick around to make sure no one fucks with you or your car.”

“You’re going to stay out here all night?” I nod. “Don’t be stupid. Come inside.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I tell her.

“You want to get a look at the guy, right?” she asks, and I nod again. “Then come inside. You can watch from my window. Whoever it is won’t show if he sees you hanging around outside.”

I help her out of the car. She grabs her purse and a bag from the passenger’s seat. “I have some leftover Chinese Food,” she says, holding the bag up.

My mouth waters at the offer. About two hours ago, I realized I hadn’t eaten and was starving. So I follow her into the building and up to her apartment.

I’d only been in her apartment the one time. When Babe, Min, and I came to take her to the clubhouse for protection. She has more locks on her door than she did then, but only because I’d sent a prospect over with them. The layout is the same as your average apartment. The door opens into a living space barely large enough for a couch and a table. If she added another piece of furniture, the place would look cramped. The television hangs on the wall, surrounded by pictures of flowers and landscapes. To the right is a hallway leading to her bedroom and the bathroom. Cicely goes into the kitchen. She pulls down a plate and transfers the contents from the to-go container onto the plate before I can stop her. She pops the plate into the microwave as she pours herself a glass of wine and grabs me a beer.

“I could have just eaten out of the container,” I tell her as I take the plate and sit at the small round dining table tucked into the corner.

She slides into the seat across from me. “Food tastes better served on a plate,” she says with a grin as she sips her wine.

I can’t fault her logic when I take a bite. “God, this is fucking amazing. I was starving.”

“There are several good restaurants around the hospital. We’ve tried them all. The Green Dragon is one of my favorites. But, I have to say my favorite is Vita Gustosa. Their Italian Food is amazing, but then you’d expect that since it is owned by the mob.”

I almost choked at her words. “The mob? How do you know?”

“My friend from high school is the daughter of a mob boss. We went to private school together.”

“Are you guys still friends?” I ask, taking a swig of beer. Cicely's pupils dilate as she watches me swallow, making me smirk.

“What? Oh, yeah, Lily and I are still friends. We meet up once a month to catch up. She’s Anthony Beraldi’s daughter.”

I choke on the bite I’ve just taken. “Anthony Beralid? The head of the Mafia family that runs Chicago? You’re fucking friends with his daughter?”

Cicely rises and smacks me on the back until I wave her off. She sits with a smirk on her face. “What? You think you’re the only criminal I know?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It never came up,” she says with a shrug.

I study her as I finish eating my dinner. Cicely Oswald has secrets. The sweet little nurse isn’t as sweet and innocent as I thought—no wonder the clubhouse didn’t overwhelm her.

When I finish eating, Cicely grabs my plate and rinses it in the sink before putting it in the dishwasher with the silverware and her wine glass. I walk to the window and glance outside. When Cicely joins me, she points across the street. “He was standing over there, just outside the light.”

“He was just standing there?”

“He was leaning against a bike. I’d forgotten that. I was trying to see his face and forgot about the bike.”

Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I pull her close. She stiffens at first, but then melts into me.

“I’ve missed you,” she murmurs as her arms circle around my waist.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I say, looking down at her. She looks up at me, and I can’t resist. Capturing her lips, I slide my hands along her hips and onto her ass. Cupping each round globe in my palm, I hoist her up so she has to wrap her legs around my waist. Deepening the kiss, I push her back against the wall and grind my hardening cock into her denim-clad pussy. I answer her whimpers with my growls of need. Fuck this woman. I’ve missed her—especially the taste of her. The scent of her.

Pulling away from the wall, I run my nose along her throat and stalk down the hall into her bedroom. The scent of her washes through my system, leaving me unable to focus on anything but her. Dropping her on the bed, I shrug out of my kutte and reach behind to pull off my shirt. My cock presses against my zipper as I see her eyes heat while she takes me in.

“Strip, baby, or I’ll be tearing those clothes off you.”

She yanks off her shirt as she hurriedly kicks off her shoes. Seeing your woman manic with desire does something to a man. I kick off my boots and discard my jeans and boxers, but not before taking the condom out of my wallet and tossing it on the bed. Before she can lay back on the bed naked, I grab her ankles and yank her ass to the edge of the bed. Kneeling, I bury my face in the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.

Cicely moans when I flick her clit with my tongue. She squeezes her thick thighs against my head, trapping me. I never want to leave. Wrapping my arms around her legs, I slide my tongue into her channel while I use my thumb to press down on her clit. She bucks and whimpers as the orgasm builds, letting out a scream when it crashes through her. Lifting my eyes, I watch her face transform with pleasure. Standing, I reach for the condom and tear it open. I stroke my cock as I watch Cicely rise out of the fog of pleasure. When I see her eyes coming back into focus, I shift her on the bed so I can climb between her thighs.

We stare into each other’s eyes as I slide my cock against her clit, coating him in her essence. Her expression is warm and welcoming. I feel at peace being here with her, feeling the heat of her gaze and smelling the delicious scent of her pussy. She feels and smells like home. Nothing exists for me but her and this moment. Once my dick goes slick, I position him at her opening. Sliding in slowly, inch by inch, I watch her eyes unfocus as her body adjusts around me. Sex has always been a release, a way to escape from the stress of running the club. But sex with Cicely? It’s so much fucking more than a release. I imagine this is what heaven would feel like, if there was a heaven and I had a chance in hell of getting there.

When I’m fully seated inside her, I let my body fall over hers as I cover her mouth with mine so I can swallow her moans. Sliding my hands under her, I palm the back of her neck and squeeze her waist, plastering her against me as I pound into her. Even though we’re plastered together, I don’t feel we’re close enough. I need to be closer. Fuck, I want to crawl inside her and never leave.

Nothing exists but her and me. Nothing. When her walls tighten around me, I’m almost disappointed. I don’t want this to end. She breaks free of my kiss and screams out my name as her velvet walls clamp around my dick and squeeze. My hips jerk, and I spasm as I explode inside her. My vision fails as bright lights flash around me. My body gives out as I crash next to her. What the fuck was that? I’ve never cum so hard in my life. What the hell is she doing to me?

Rolling over, I stand and go into the bathroom to take care of the condom. I take a piss and stare into the mirror as I wash my hands. What the fuck am I doing? I’m supposed to be distancing myself from her. At least until I figure out who the fuck betrayed our club and attacked Mode. If the traitor figures out how much she means to me, he can use her against me. I can’t risk her. I have to get out of here and stay away.

With my mind made up, I exit the bathroom to find her snuggled under the covers. She lifts them so I can join her. I want to take her up on the invitation, but I can’t. Instead, I grab my clothes and get dressed. The hurt on her face guts me.

“You’re leaving?” she asks.

“I have to get back to the clubhouse,” I tell her as I avoid looking at her because I can’t handle seeing the pain there.

“Right,” she says, turning her back on me as she reaches over and shuts off the light, leaving me in the dark. I turn off the lights in her living area before locking the door. As I jog down the stairs, I can’t help but feel I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.