Page 37 of Riot’s Thorn (Sons of Erebus: Reno, NV #4)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
RIOT
A sound wakes me from one of the best sleeps I’ve ever had. I reach for my phone but stop when I realize Parker is dead asleep on my stomach, and if I’m not mistaken, she still has my cock in her mouth.
The last thing I remember was coming for the fourth—or was it the fifth—time, and by then, I was wrung out. I guess I must’ve passed out.
And from the looks of it, she did too.
Nothing in my life will ever top waking up with my dick in Parker’s mouth.
I don’t even want to move because this is just too perfect.
Unfortunately, Ben and Amy are little cock blockers.
The sound that woke me is them pitching a fit over us sleeping in, creating such a ruckus, it wakes Parker as well.
Her head shoots off my stomach, my half-hard cock falling from her mouth, and she freezes, as if just realizing how she fell asleep. She slowly looks over at me, probably checking to see if she’s been caught.
“Mornin’,” I say.
“Hi.”
“I like being your pacifier, Little Thorn.”
“I can’t believe I fell asleep like that.” She covers her face.
“While you’re down there. . . .”
The smack to my abs makes them contract. “I don’t think so. My jaw will need some time to recover after last night.”
Shit. Did I hurt her? I didn’t actually think she would suck me off that many times, but she kept agreeing, so I thought it was okay. “Do you want me to call Bones?”
“Bones?”
“Our doc. He might be able to help with the pain.”
“What? No. Oh, god. I’m not talking to a doctor about my jaw being sore because I had your penis in my mouth all night.”
“He won’t judge. He’s some kind of dope smoking, peace and love hippie who grows and sells weed for the club.”
“Really? He owns that place?” she asks.
“You’ve heard of Dope?”
“Yeah, I’ve been there with friends.”
“He probably has a strain to ease joint and muscle pain.”
“Uh, no. That’s stupid. I’ll be fine. Just keep your dick away from my mouth for the rest of the day.” She sits up, gloriously naked, her breasts swaying as she pulls her morning hair up into a messy bun, using a hair tie she had on her wrist.
“Fuck.” I pinch a pert nipple, suddenly wanting to use her tit as my own pacifier.
She slaps my hand. “Your babies need attention.”
“They’re not babies. Technically, they’re senior citizens.”
“I just meant—never mind. I need to use the bathroom.” She climbs out of bed, and because she has the most perfect body to ever exist, I gawk. That’s when I see a dark purple and black bruise covering her hip. I’m up and out of bed, at her side in a heartbeat.
“What the fuck?”
She glances down. “Oh, yeah. I figured there’d be a bruise after you tackled me in the desert. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“I did that?” I hold her at arm’s length and scan the rest of her, finding scrapes and bruises on her legs, elbows, and hands. “Fuck.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she says, brushing me away.
“It is. I hurt you.”
“I remember you saying something about me needing to be punished yesterday. Now, all of a sudden, you’re worried about injuries?” She leaves for the bathroom, and I follow, causing her to huff. “I need a minute of privacy.”
“That’s not the kind of punishment I was talking about.”
“Listen, you had to stop me. I was running through the desert with no destination, completely out of my mind. I don’t blame you. Besides, you protected my head and took the brunt of the fall. Look at your shoulder.”
I glance in the mirror, seeing a similar bruise, mostly hidden under my tattoos. “I deserve it.”
“I really have to pee.”
“So?” I ask.
It sounds like she mutters, “For fuck’s sake,” but I can’t quite hear over the thumping of my heart. I let her get hurt. What if she’d hit her head on a rock? It was a stupid decision that could’ve ended so much worse.
“I—uh, I’m sorry,” I say, not remembering the last time I had to apologize to anyone. Usually, my bad behavior is excused on the basis of me being. . . me. But I can’t allow myself to move on until I know she’s forgiven me.
“Surprised you didn’t choke over those words.” The sound of urine hitting water in the toilet echoes in the small bathroom. I like the fact that she has reached a new level of comfort in front of me.
Books aren’t my thing, so I rely on YouTube to explain things I don’t understand, like intimacy.
Between those videos and what happened last night, I’d say we’re there.
Maybe she’ll marry me now. But being naked in the bathroom while she’s on the toilet doesn’t feel like the right time to talk about it. I’ll wait until later.
“How does someone choke over words?”
She exhales loudly. “I forgive you. Now, can I have a minute to get cleaned up?”
“I guess.” I leave her to pull on a pair of boxers and let the rats out.
They holler at me, trying to climb up my bare legs.
I have to brush them away to allow me to lower to my corner so they can crawl on me and bitch about being late.
For so long, they’ve been my only companions.
I don’t know if rats can feel jealous, but there’s no way to explain they need to adjust because Parker comes first from now on.
Though, I get why they’re annoyed. I don’t enjoy having my schedule interrupted either. And Parker is a life-size interruption.
Parker and I stride over to the clubhouse, hand in hand. My chest puffs with pride as I slide the back door open, and all heads turn toward us. I don’t think anyone here believed I was capable of even having a relationship, let alone one with a woman as beautiful and put together as Parker.
“You’ll be fine with Sugar?” I ask.
Her chin tips up, and she grins. “Yeah. She’s going to teach me how to make parmesan chicken and roasted broccoli.”
It’s been a week since I chased her down at the brothel, and we’ve been settling into a new normal. I still don’t trust her not to run off, so while I’m busy with club stuff, she either hangs out with Sugar, one of the ol’ ladies, or she stays in the locked cabin.
If she knows I still fear she’ll leave, she hasn’t said anything, but she also hasn’t asked for the code to be able to come and go as she pleases. It’s as if she finally understands my need to keep her safe.
“I’ll come find you when we’re done,” I say, walking away.
“Wait. You forgot something.”
I turn to her in confusion, certain I didn’t because I don’t need anything for church. Cell phones aren’t allowed inside the windowless room, so I don’t even have that with me. “What?”
She bites her lower lip, looking bashful in the sweet way she does. Though it’s all an act because this woman is down for anything I want to do to her. I’ve been trying to take things slow, enjoying each stage of her sexual awakening, but fuck, it’s hard.
“What did I forget?” I ask again.
She skips over to me—fucking skips—and throws her arms around my neck before planting a kiss on my lips. A series of hoots, hollers, and catcalls come from my brothers, but I don’t give a shit. I wrap my arms around her middle and lift her off her feet, deepening the kiss.
“Alright, alright. Enough hanky-panky. Get your asses in here,” Cy calls from the doorway to the room we hold church in.
I nuzzle her neck, breathing her in. Her scent, not her soap or lotion, but the way she smells underneath all that, has become just as vital to managing my anxiety as riding my bike or sitting quietly in my corner.
The pressure on my chest that builds whenever I have to interact with people eases as I lower her to the ground.
“You forgot that,” she breathes out.
I grunt and swat her ass as I walk away, but even after her public display of affection, I still turn to make sure she goes into the kitchen and doesn’t take the opportunity to run. Only after I hear Sugar greet her do I step inside, and Lucas turns into Riot.
The room is built for function, the only decor being framed pictures taken during each of the club’s most important times.
There isn’t much furniture to speak of, just some black executive chairs tucked in around a large oval table that takes up the majority of the space.
It has a copper top that’s seen better days, though it only makes it look more badass, our insignia fabricated from steel embedded in the center.
Seating isn’t assigned, but we usually all gravitate toward the same chairs.
The one I like is nearest to the door, and with Parker not locked up in the cabin, it’s even more imperative for me to be as close as possible to her.
Thankfully, no one decided to fuck with me today, and it hasn’t been taken.
“Hey, brother,” Dutch says, cupping my shoulder. “Saw the show out there. She put out for you yet?”
“Put out?”
“Yeah, you know. Did she let you put your banana in her fruit salad? Did you fill her donut with cream? Did you assault her with a friendly weapon? Did you jam her clam? Did?—”
“I know what ‘put out’ means, dumbass,” I mutter, trying to rein in my temper because none of those things begins to describe what Parker and I get up to.
“So?”
“None of your fuckin’ business.”
He grins and elbows me. “That’s not a denial, so you must’ve gotten it on. Congrats, man. She’s hot.”
I sigh and turn my back on him, spinning the chair to face Cy. Prez is older than most of us, with a long, graying beard and salt and pepper hair he keeps in some kind of swoopy style. It must be a cool look, because his ol’ lady is half his age and always fussing over him.
Cy bangs the gavel, and everyone quiets as the meeting begins with all the shit I don’t care about. Finances and updates on all our legit businesses bore me, making it easy for my mind to wander back to Parker. It makes me irrationally angry to be apart from her.
Why am I here anyway? Cy never asks me to attend unless something’s going on that involves me, but things are calm right now. Killer and I haven’t had any trouble, and nothing’s happened during any of my shifts at the brothel or Dope.