Page 12 of Knox (The Black Roses MC #4)

Chapter twelve

Knox

T he first thing that registers when I wake in Mia’s bed is that I’m alone. The next is the clamoring coming from the kitchen. I always had a feeling Mia was one of those early riser types, but I was hoping the three orgasms I gave her last night would’ve made her need a little more sleep. Guess I’m going to have to work harder on that; I sure as shit don’t like waking up in her bed without her next to me.

I move to sit up, wincing at my poor cock. I was serious when I told her last night was all about her. My dick has never been so neglected since I was a kid in high school and the furthest a girl would let me go was a little tit grabbing. Fuck, I forgot what it was like to wake up like this.

Standing from her bed, I stretch my arms over my head and look down.

“Sorry, buddy,” I say to the bulge in my black boxer briefs before grabbing my jeans that I left on her floor. Pulling them over my hips, I head to her bathroom. When I’ve relieved myself, I look around for my flannel, then remember it’s still in the living room where Mia pulled it off me last night.

Fuck, thinking about the way she erupted under my touch is making me hard again.

Think of something else, Knox, anything else .

Not exactly an easy task when I’m surrounded by everything Mia.

Walking out of her room, I find her in the kitchen with her back turned toward me. It looks like she’s making scrambled eggs as she hums the song we danced to in her living room last night. Apparently, I’m not the only one with memories of last night running through their mind.

I lean against the doorway of her kitchen and take a few uninterrupted moments to soak up the way her night shirt hits just below the curve of her ass that I spent time tasting and becoming well acquainted with last night. Lace peeks out from the bottom when she reaches for a plate, scooping the eggs onto it. When she turns, she jumps and lets out a little yelp.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” I say, watching a rosy hue creep over her cheeks. I love that she does that, and I hope to God she never stops.

“You are determined to scare me whenever you can, aren’t you?”

“Never, baby. But I can’t say I hate the way your tits bounce in that shirt when you jump,” I say, looking at her chest, then back to her face.

Her blush deepens as she sets the plate on her small kitchen table next to a plate of bacon and pancakes.

“Come here,” I say and grab her around the waist before she can walk back over to her stove.

When my lips brush against hers, she relaxes into me and hums in contentment.

“That’s better,” I say, pulling away and running my thumb over her kiss-swollen bottom lip. “I’m not a fan of waking up without you.”

Her eyes soften and her arms wrap around my waist. “But are you a fan of pancakes?”

A laugh escapes which brings a bright smile to her mouth. “Yeah, baby. I like pancakes.”

“How about coffee?”

My head tilts to the side. “Is that a real question?”

Mia giggles and dislodges herself from my hold before walking over to the coffeepot and pouring me a mugful. She grabs two plates and a couple forks before heading back over to the table and waves at me to sit. We fill our plates, and when I bite into one of the pancakes, I moan with delight.

“Jesus, woman. They are delicious. I’m coming over every day for breakfast.”

“It’s the cinnamon and vanilla.”

We eat nearly everything she made, and that’s saying a lot.

“What do you have planned for today?” she asks.

I smile, loving the normalcy of talking about plans for the day with the woman across from me. This isn’t something I ever enjoyed with any other women. Shit, I never did this with another woman.

“Gotta head over to Midnight Rose and go over a few things with the manager. Then I was going to help the prospect work on his bike for a bit. What about you?”

“Maizie, Lucy, and Charlie are taking Colby to the park, so I was planning on meeting up with them. Then I have dinner plans with my grandmother.”

“When am I going to see you again?” I don’t give a flying fuck if I sound like a needy bitch right now. Mia needs to know that I want to spend as much time with her as possible, and I want to make plans to actually do that.

“Maybe dinner on Tuesday?”

“It’s a date. If your schedule opens before, let me know and we can grab a drink or something.”

Mia smiles and looks from her lap to my face with happiness dancing in her eyes. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

After helping her with the dishes, since she wouldn’t let me do them on my own, I head home to shower and change clothes before taking my bike to the strip club. It’s Sunday afternoon, and we don’t open for another few hours, but I spot Sylvie’s deep-red luxury sedan in the parking lot. The woman makes good fucking money working for the Black Roses and has been here since Trick was president. She keeps drugs out of the club and makes sure none of the girls are ever trying to make some extra cash on the side by offering services that we don’t allow on the premises. What the girls want to do on their own time is their business, but we run a legit establishment. Well, if you don’t count the money laundering that runs through the place to clean the cash we get from other less-than-legal operations.

It’s my job to take care of the books here—both sets—and to make sure Sylvie has everything she needs. That could run anywhere from stocking some particular alcohol that some of our customers prefer apart from our usual fare to making sure there’s enough glitter for the girls. It’s a lot of paperwork, mostly with the books, clean and not so clean.

Though Cash is the official treasurer, I have a good idea of what runs through the club. Anything having to do with money is a two-man operation. Not because we don’t trust each other implicitly, but this way, that trust can never be called into question. It worked for Gramps and Trick, and it works for us.

Walking into the brightly lit space, thanks to the cleaners who are still here detailing everything before we open for business, I find Sylvie at the bar going through some paperwork.

“Hey, Sylvie,” I say as I walk behind the bar and pour myself a cup of coffee. “How’s it going?” I turn and offer her a smile.

She tilts her head to the side as she runs her gaze down to my boots, then back up to my face.

“There’s something about you today. I can’t quite put my finger on it. You seem more relaxed than usual,” she says, still giving me a skeptical appraisal. “Oh wait, does this have something to do with the school librarian I heard about?”

My eyes squint while I sip my coffee. “How do you know about Mia?”

“That’s right. Mia. Heard Heather say she was at your party and when she went to say hello, you brushed her off.”

“I don’t have anything going on with Heather.” Especially not after last night.

“She didn’t say you did. Just mentioned that she ran into the girls at the farmers’ market and met your new woman. Said she was nice.”

“I don’t need Mia to be fodder for gossip around here.”

Sylvie lets out a loud laugh, her head tipping back like I just said the funniest thing known to man. “Oh, Knox. You should know by now that when you get a bunch of girls working together or any time really, everything is up for grabs.”

“Can you please make sure to shut it down if you hear it? Mia doesn’t need people talking about her behind her back.”

Her laughter stops, but her smile remains on her red lips. “You really like this girl. I’ve never seen you so protective.”

“Yeah, I do.” It’s the truth, and I’m not afraid to admit it.

“Does she know about your other proclivities?”

Sylvie and I have always had an open and respectful friendship. Through getting to know her, I discovered she was a member of a sex club in Boston. Call it curiosity, but years ago, she took me as a guest. It was a night they had a shibari performance and I was instantly enthralled. The pleasure the woman on stage had by allowing her partner to tie her in intricate knots. The beauty and release she found in it captivated me. The marks left on her skin afterward when the ropes were taken off were wildly attractive to me. Sylvie, seeing my reaction, hooked me up with the performers, and they taught me everything I know about the art of shibari. Eventually, I became a member there as well. Finding women at the club to play with was easy. But aside from Heather, I’ve never had anyone in my real life who I thought would be into it. Or maybe I never found anyone I wanted to see with my ropes around them.

Until Mia.

“I haven’t told her,” I say.

“Camila and Andrés are having a show at the club in a couple weeks. Maybe you could take Mia so she can see what it’s about. I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

They were the couple who were willing to teach me years ago. I don’t even remember the last time I saw either of them. They travel and give demonstrations and performances all over the world.

“I’ll think about it.”

Sylvie doesn’t push, but she does give me something to think about. Seeing as Sylvie and I have been working together for several years, she knows me well enough to pick up on the fact that I’m done talking about this.

“Let’s go to the office so we can go over a few things,” she says as she gathers the papers she was reading when I walked in.

It doesn’t take long for me to get everything I need. I sign off on the inventory restock. Not that I necessarily need to since Sylvie is good at her job. But Trick and Gramps drilled it into us that we need to make sure to dot every i and cross every t ourselves.

When I walk out into the parking lot of the club, I notice my bike sitting lower than it should be.

“Son of a bitch,” I say, walking over. My blood pressure nearly shoots through the roof when I see the cause. There’s a knife plunged into each of my tires.

I turn and stalk back into the club, storming into the office where our security camera screens are located.

“What’s wrong?” Sylvie asks when I stomp behind the desk and grab the keyboard to look through the footage.

“Someone fucked with my bike.”

“What?” she asks incredulously.

Everyone knows we own this club, and if they see a bike, it belongs to one of the Black Roses. No one has ever been stupid enough to do something like this before. But it looks like shit’s changed.

It’s been less than an hour since stepping through the door, so it doesn’t take long to rewind the footage to when I first arrived. About ten minutes later, there’s a figure on the screen dressed in baggy, dark clothes with a hoodie pulled over their head. The person isn’t particularly tall, so it could be a shorter man or a taller woman. It’s impossible to tell from the footage. I watch as they walk over to my bike, stick a knife in the back tire, then the front with quick precision. Then they keep walking like they're out for an afternoon stroll. I follow them on the monitor, changing frames until they’re out of camera range. Never once did I see their face. Either they knew where the cameras were, or they were damn lucky they never turned toward one.

“Holy shit,” Sylvie breathes out.

When I turn to her, shock is written across her face.

“I’m putting extra guys on tonight.”

“Do you think we’re in danger?” she asks, looking as though she’s ready for a fight. Sylvie doesn’t put up with any bullshit, especially when it comes to the club she runs—and her girls.

“No, but there’s no way this is random. Everyone in town knows that bike belongs to me, and they also know this club belongs to the Black Roses. Since it was my bike they went after and not the building, I’m going to guess this has to do with us, not the strip club. But since it’s my job to make sure everyone here is safe, I’m not taking any chances.”

Sylvie nods and straightens her spine. She’s been in this business a long time and has seen plenty of jealous partners walk through the doors at the various places she’s worked, both wives of customers and boyfriends of dancers.

“You got your piece?” I ask.

Sylvie nods and points to the bottom drawer of the desk. “Always.”

I nod and grab my phone from my pocket.

“Hey, Oz,” I say when my prez picks up. “I’m going to need a flatbed and a few extra guys for security at Midnight Rose.”

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“Some asshole slashed my tires.”

“What the fuck?” he grits out.

“Yeah. I don’t think it has anything to do with the strip club, but I’m not risking it.”

“Alright, I’ll send Wyatt and Braxton, and I’ll be right there. I want to look at the security footage.”

“I did. Couldn’t tell who it was, or if it was even a man or woman.”

“Shit. Alright, I’m coming to check, just in case. Stay there,” he commands.

“Where the fuck you think I’m gonna go?”

“Right. I’ll be there in ten.”

Ozzy disconnects the call, and I walk out of the office to the bar, pouring myself a healthy shot of whiskey. I shoot it down quickly, then slam the glass back on the bar before resting my fists on the wood in front of me.

I don’t know who the hell that person thinks they were walking onto our property and fucking with our shit. But the one thing I do know is once I find out the who and the why, they’re going to wish they'd never heard of the Black Roses MC.