Page 24 of Property of Stone (Kings of Anarchy MC: Pennsylvania #1)

Chapter Fifteen

The man gave her three intense orgasms last night. Or more like early this morning.

Taryn was lucky to have even one with Vic. Stone went above and beyond when he didn’t stop until she’d had three . That might have been a record for her.

Later, while lying in the man’s bed without him, she went over how she reacted afterward. He seemed to be getting pissed as she ignored his questions.

Truthfully, she didn’t have any answers. He possibly thought from how she responded that he had sucked. That was far from the truth.

And that was the problem. Not the fact they had sex.

The sex had been great. Soul satisfying. Even toe-curling. Definitely orgasm inducing. Better than she would’ve ever expected from a rough-around-the-edges biker.

Only, having sex with him should have flushed him from her system.

It did the exact opposite.

But as good as it had been and as tempted as she was to knock boots with him again, after he came, reality had crept in.

No, not crept in. Hit her like a two-by-four across the forehead.

She had given in to her impulse and regretted it immediately afterward. Again, not because he sucked, but because she hardly knew him. And what she did know…

She blew out a breath.

He was an ex-con. He belonged to a motorcycle club and certainly wasn’t an upstanding citizen of society.

Add in the fact that they had to live together and both had young children living under the same roof. Impressionable children who should be looking up to them as examples and not hypocrites.

Since she couldn’t fall asleep after going back upstairs and she didn’t want to wake Wren with her restlessness, she decided she might as well get up and get a jump on the day.

She had finger foods to make for the tea party later.

On her way to the kitchen, she purposely didn’t peek into the living room to see if Stone was awake or asleep.

Once there, she pulled out all the ingredients she had purchased yesterday, along with the kitchen equipment she had moved in to fill his mostly empty kitchen cabinets.

Important items she’d need to keep making a living.

Once she had everything set out in an organized fashion, along with a written copy of the ladies’ requested menu, she decided this morning’s prep would be a great time to test out doing videos.

Especially since the kids were still in bed and weren’t expected to wake up for at least another half an hour.

She could get a lot done in thirty minutes if she wasn’t interrupted.

Yesterday, she had set up a dedicated YouTube channel for this new endeavor, but now she needed content and subscribers.

Actually, a shitload of subscribers so her videos could be monetized.

She planned to start out on the popular free video site and see how comfortable she was in front of a camera, plus how successful her videos were before switching over to a virtual teaching site.

One that would cost her money and eat into her earnings.

After setting up her cell phone, she adjusted it until everything important was included in the shot.

Then she took a deep breath to settle her nerves, despite the fact that, one, it was really early in the morning and her intended audience might be sleeping, and two, she had zero subscribers. That meant the number of watchers might be small, if she even had any at all.

For now, that could be a good thing. This way if she screwed up, less people would witness it. And technically, if it was embarrassingly bad, she could delete it.

She was okay with public speaking, but not great. The only reason she was half decent was due to the classes she’d been teaching in Camp Hill for the past few years. Only, those classes were usually made up of a dozen or less people.

If this new venture took off, she could potentially be teaching thousands. Her stomach churned at that thought.

You can do this, Taryn! Just pretend no one’s watching and you’re in the kitchen alone doing what you love…cooking.

This could turn out to be easy money if she put out the right content. She even spent a couple of hours watching other cooking videos last night before attempting to sleep. She made notes on what she liked, what she wanted to avoid, and which videos seemed to draw a larger audience.

It also gave her ideas on the type of content she wanted to make to fill her YouTube channel. She wanted to provide helpful cooking techniques that were real and tested, unlike all the videos all over social media that were only made for shock value or even outrage.

Some of those actually made her want to puke.

Worse, some videos weren’t even real, they were created with artificial intelligence. After seeing that, she vowed she would hand make everything. Nothing would be fake.

She also wanted to come off as genuine and down-to-Earth and not superficial like some of the other social influencers she’d come across.

Unlike some of the videos she came across, if she screwed up, she would explain her mistake and how to fix it. Not just edit it out.

Taryn shook her head at her crazy fantasy of possibly being the next Julia Child and, before hitting the record button, downed the rest of the coffee in her mug.

Caffeine was sorely needed since her ass was already dragging from the lack of sleep.

Maybe she’d take a quick nap once the kids were off to school, Stone was off to do whatever the hell he did, and before heading over to the ladies’ monthly tea.

Those ladies alone could be wearisome. But they were regular paying customers and tended to tip well, despite her telling them that tips were unnecessary.

“Okay, you can do this,” she whispered. “Nobody will be watching. It’s good practice.”

Giving herself a nod, she pushed the button to go live and began her demo. After briefly introducing herself, she explained slowly and clearly everything as she did it and the reasons why. As the minutes ticked by, she occasionally glanced at the number of watchers and tried not to show her shock.

Or her panic.

Holy shit! She already had fifty subscribers and over seventy-five people watching!

Don’t hyperventilate.

Be professional. Don’t rush. Be thorough. Slip in a few tasteful jokes. Keep it fun. Nobody wants a stiff, awkward robot.

What she wasn’t expecting was the real-time comments. No surprise, some were downright rude. Asking her to take off her top. Telling her that her techniques were wrong. Even adding puking emojis because of the recipe she was making.

But she expected that from a social media site full of keyboard warriors.

She doubted any of them would come to her in-person classes and be brave enough to say those same things to her face.

She needed to learn to ignore the bad and concentrate on all the good.

The compliments. The questions. The watchers who quickly subscribed to her channel.

This might actually work!

She’d have to thank Stone for the idea. She should thank him for the orgasms, too, but she didn’t want to ever speak of it again.

It could be a mistake easily forgotten. A once and done thing. Because she surely didn’t want to have sex with him again. Of course not. That would be foolish. And make things messy.

They had to coexist in this house. Work together for a common goal: taking care of the kids and keeping them safe.

“Spread the cream cheese evenly over the cucumber rounds and top with a small piece of salmon. Then sprinkle with dill or any of your favorite seasonings. And don’t forget the basics: salt and pepper!”

She did it! She got through the first dish. Yes, it was simple, and no, it wasn’t a cooked dish, but it had gone better than expected.

With a smile, she quickly scanned the comments to see if she needed to answer any more questions or clarify any of the steps before she logged off.

Looks delicious!

“Yes, I promise you this combo is delicious! And the recipe is so simple and refreshing. It’s the perfect finger food for any gathering. Especially in the summer.”

Drooling!

I’d do that in a hot second!

Her smile widened. “I’m glad I could motivate you to make these!”

Yummy!

Give me a bite of that perfect peach.

Peach? This dish didn’t include peaches. It was cucumber, smoked salmon and?—

A noise made her spin around to see Stone sauntering through the kitchen wearing nothing but his very, very snug boxer briefs.

Oh. My. God.

All his tattoos are on full display, as was his undeniable bulge.

No wonder her audience was going nuts. They weren’t making comments about her food, they were lusting over Stone in his damn underwear!

Suddenly, the temperature in the kitchen became as hot as if she’d been baking all day. Her cheeks were on fire.

Then she spotted something she had missed. Holy shit. He had the same patches on the back of his cut inked into his back! He never told her he was marked like that and last night…this morning…in the bathroom, she hadn’t seen it. Just his…

A breath slipped from between her parted lips.

His MC affiliation was the last thing she wanted her audience to see. Even more concerning was the fact that those very easy to read tats could identify him—who he was and what he represented—as well as identify her and possibly where she was currently living.

Her heart tumbled in her now-tight chest.

That identifiable information could be dangerous. Especially since her YouTube channel was public. And those videos could be easily shared. Even go viral.

She quickly untied the apron she donned earlier, ripped it over her head and dropped it over his. At least that would cover what looked like what was left of his deflating morning wood.

He seriously had the nerve to look offended?

Now truly in a panic, she mouthed, “Get out,” while her back was to the camera.

His eyebrows stitched together as he tugged with confusion at the apron. “Why?”

Trying not to make too much of a scene, she stage whispered, “Get out! They can see you!” Keeping her hand below the counter, she jabbed a finger toward her phone.