Page 6

Hound

The world outside is quiet, wrapped in the stillness of the night, but my mind is racing.

I glance at the clock on the bedside table, sighing when I realize it’s almost four, but I’m still wide awake.

As someone who functions well with little sleep, it doesn’t bother me that I haven’t slept all night.

It’s the why that has my thoughts swirling.

I’m still holding her when the first sliver of pale dawn creeps through the gap in the curtains.

It paints Chelsea’s sleeping form in a soft light, highlighting the delicate curve of her cheek and mouth.

I find myself staring at her—as I have all through the night—and my breath catches somewhere in my throat.

I don’t remember the last time I slept or woke up next to anyone.

For a man like me, such warmth and quiet intimacy is a foreign concept.

I’ve created too many enemies to lie comfortably in the arms of a woman.

But this woman is different.

A strange, unsettling flutter builds in my chest every time I look at her. It’s not unpleasant so much as it's unfamiliar. I turn my head away from the woman cozied up in my arms and glare at the ceiling, listening to her soft breaths.

What the fuck have I done?

I never expected to find myself here, wrapped in the embrace of someone so beautiful. So dangerously tempting. It’s terrifying in ways I have never experienced before. I think about the way she watched me last night, mouth parted as she begged me to abandon all reserve and just…take her.

I could have.

Christ, I was so close to abandoning reason and rutting her in my bed like a sex-starved maniac, but I sensed her innocence in the kiss. The way she watched me with surprise through every caress. Those beautiful golden eyes brimming with need and wonder as I touched her.

The way she reacted… It’s as if she’s never been touched before, so I held back. Shoved down my own need to impale her with my cock, to take what she was so innocently offering.

And it’s no wonder that such thoughts are slowly creeping back into my mind.

Fuck!

A wave of panic washes over me, cold and sharp with the sudden urge to leave.

To get the hell out before I do something stupid like lean down and kiss that pouty mouth.

Christ, she’s not some chick I picked up at the bar and decided to spend the night with.

Heck, I was never supposed to even touch her in the first place.

I should have known better than to give into my baser needs.

With a sigh, I ease myself out of bed, careful not to disturb her.

The sheets rustle as I slide away. When Chelsea stirs, I freeze, turning around to glance at her, but she doesn’t wake up.

She tucks her hands under her head and burrows deeper into the pillow with a soft sigh that calls for me to climb back into bed and hold her close.

One more glance at her and my resolve, which is practically thin as ice at this point, will simply shatter.

I force myself to look away, stumbling toward the ensuite. The bright bathroom light is harsh and unforgiving, and I avoid looking in the mirror. I know what I’ll see. Red-rimmed eyes, shadowed with the telltale signs of a night spent staring at a girl I had no right touching.

Jesus Christ!

I splash cold water on my face, the shock a brief, welcome sting, but it does little to quell the churning in my stomach.

I can’t push off the thought that I took advantage of her.

Chelsea is collateral—her purpose here is clear.

She’s not a guest here, and despite those golden eyes staring pleadingly at me, I should have known not to give in.

The thought stays as I shave the stubble on my chin, the rough rasp of the razor doing nothing to provide any distractions. It’s her eyes and those lips I see when I step into the shower, that perfect body fitting against mine like a puzzle.

My dick is in my hand before I know it, and I drop my forehead against the tile as I jerk off, the memories of last night flooding my senses.

The taste of those soft lips, the way they hitched against mine as I rubbed my cock over her wet pussy, her nails scratching my back as I slid my hard dick against her thighs, touching her soft tits…

“Fuck!” I grunt through clenched teeth as I climax, ropes of white flying onto the tiles and washing away.

I stroke my cock faster, drawing out my orgasm as I picture Chelsea on her knees, taking my cock into that pretty mouth of hers.

I’m panting when I’m done, but even that does little to rid me of the tension in my muscles.

Chelsea is still asleep when I finally leave the bathroom. She barely stirs when I walk to my closet, sprawled on my bed like she belongs there, and a fucked-up part of me wants her to. For her idiot brother to skip town and leave her with me.

I’ll protect her.

I dress in the dim light, the silence in the apartment pressing down on me. Stuck between wanting to climb into bed and hold her close, or continue to beat myself up for desiring someone I have no business wanting.

So, I choose the third option.

With a last glance at my sleeping angel, I leave the room and walk out of the apartment.

The hallway is cold and empty, but I ignore the silence as I head down to the elevator.

I press the button for the ground floor with no idea of where exactly I mean to go until a few minutes later, I find myself standing outside the only place open this early.

The club’s auto shop.

I stare at the entrance for long seconds, contemplating heading back to my apartment and crawling into bed with the woman I can’t seem to get out of my mind.

There’s a roaring need to head back, but before I can give in to the thought, I catch some movement inside the auto shop, and I welcome the distraction.

Axel, the club’s official mechanic, spots me at the same time I do him.

The man grins and waves his grease-stained hand at me.

“Hound! Perfect timing. Come give me a hand with this beast.” He gestures toward a hulking motorcycle, its chrome gleaming under the bright indoor lights.

He doesn’t ask what the fuck I’m doing outside the auto shop at six in the morning.

I step inside, the scent of oil and gasoline a comforting distraction. “Is that a Harley Davidson CVO Road Glide RR?” I whistle as I approach.

“She’s a beauty, alright.” Axel nods in appreciation. “Got here a few days ago. Think the fuel injectors are clogged, but it needs a few kinks straightened out.”

“Yours?”

“Yep,” he says, circling the bike. “I had to leave the warmth of my bed and the comforting arms of my woman to make time for this bike. If I spend one more morning out here, Brooke will not be happy with me.”

“Well then,” I clear my throat, trying not to think of the woman I left in my own bed as I push up the sleeves of my shirt, “how can I help?”

Axel throws a heavy wrench at my hands, and I catch it, gripping the cold metal tight as I step forward.

We work on the bike in silence, falling into a quiet rhythm set by the low hum of the garage fan and the clink of metal against metal.

I listen to the sounds and try to lose myself in the task, but my mind keeps drifting to Chelsea.

To the way her skin felt beneath my fingers, that mouth parting… seeking mine.

Wanting me just as desperately…

“Fuck!” I curse out when the O-ring seal pops out and I fail to catch it in time. I watch it roll away from sight, cursing myself for being too distracted to pay attention to the job at hand.

Axel’s eyes flick to mine, a brief assessing glance. He must see the shadows under my eyes or the tightness in my jaw and decides to finally call it out. “Rough night?”

“Something like that,” I say, my voice rough as I go collect the seal.

“Heard you brought someone to the clubhouse.” He laughs when I turn around, my brows furrowed in surprise at the words. “Blaze told me he saw you walk into the elevator with a woman just as he was pulling into the lot.”

“There are no fucking secrets in this place!”

He laughs but doesn’t argue the point. “So, is she the reason for the rough look on your face?”

My first instinct is to shake my head and shrug off the concern.

I’m not one to seek help, choosing to fight my own battles, but the Steel Rebels are the closest thing to a family I can claim.

“She’s not a guest,” I start, considering carefully what to say.

“Chelsea is here as collateral. Incentive for her brother to pay back the money he stole from us.”

“You kidnapped her?”

“No!”

“So she came willingly?”

“Well…” I hum, the memory of Chelsea throwing herself in front of her brother to defend him filters in. “Not exactly.”

“Hound—”

“I wanted her,” I admit, turning to him and watching with amusement at the surprise that crosses his expression.

“I went there intending to get money back or make an example of the fool who dared to steal from us, and then she showed up, wanting to protect her idiot brother. She agreed to come with me if I promised to let him live and give him more time to get the money.”

I took advantage of the situation, bringing her to the clubhouse with me. Touching her when I shouldn’t have…

“Hound,” Axel says, this time reproachfully.

“She’s here to protect her brother, but Jesus, how the fuck can one person be that perfect?

” I grind out, disgusted with myself. “I’m clearly in the position of power here.

Anything I do or say will probably make her feel like she’s obligated to reciprocate.

And she’s so young, so fucking innocent. ”

“I was in a similar position just a few months back,” he says, and that brings me up short.

“You remember Kane, Brooke’s dad. He was the head mechanic and my mentor.

Imagine what a mind fuck it was when I realized that I had feelings for his daughter.

” Axel heaves a sigh, reaching for a rag to wipe the grease from his fingers.

“Feelings I fought for a long time because it felt like I was taking advantage of her. I was older, more than a decade older than Brooke, and had no right wanting her. She was still grieving her father.”

Everyone remembers Kane. He was a kind man and a devoted father. Before he died, he entrusted the care of his nineteen-year-old daughter to Axel. Everyone knew how Brooke felt about Axel, and no one was surprised when the two finally got together.

“It worked out, didn’t it?”

He nods. “Yeah, but only because I let her set the pace. You ought to do the same. Back off a little and let your girl come to you,” he says, rising to his feet and clapping my shoulder. “But leaving her alone to wake up in a strange place isn’t the best way to go about it.”

Fuck, he’s right.

The thought of Chelsea waking up alone, feeling scared and uncertain in a strange room is enough to get me moving.

“Thanks, man,” I say to Axel as I head out, my mind set on Chelsea.

I leave and head back to the club, hurrying through the first-floor bar, making a beeline for the elevator when someone steps in front of me and blocks my path.

I try to walk around them, but they block me again, and my impatient eyes drop to a set of startling green ones. The same green eyes that I saw last evening in Saint’s office. “Jade,” I start, unsure how to proceed.

“I heard that you brought a girl home yesterday.” She beams, and I fight a groan. First Axel, now Jade. Teenage girls get a bad rap; there are no worse gossips than bikers. “You should bring her down later so the other girls can meet her.”

“Sure,” I respond, waiting patiently for her to step out of my way so I can get to Chelsea.

“Oh, come with me to the kitchen. Ingrid and I are on breakfast duty this morning. We’ll fix you a tray to bring to her,” she says.

I follow her into the elevator and up to the next floor where the club kitchen is.

Jade rushes ahead of me toward another girl already in the kitchen.

I watch the two murmur and giggle among themselves as they hurriedly prepare a tray, and it’s Jade who brings it to me.

“Here, take this to her. Call us if she needs anything else.”

“Thanks,” I say, accepting the tray.

I’m still perturbed by the entire interaction as I let myself into my apartment.

Unsure what to expect when I walk into the bedroom, I’m relieved when I find Chelsea still asleep.

I stop by the door to watch her, my heart racing as I stare at her.

A part of me can’t believe that someone so perfect would want to be anywhere near a brute like me.

These hands have fought and killed… No, she would never let them touch her unless she was too tired to remember the man she was rubbing herself against.

The thought sours my mood, so I force myself to walk in, placing the breakfast tray on the bedside table.

I must not be quiet enough, because she stirs, and I watch with awe as those golden eyes blink open.

Chelsea stares at me for a beat before her eyes widen with surprise, and she quickly sits up, hair bouncing with the move.

“Oh, I forgot,” she says, combing her fingers through her curls. “I…um… Good morning.”

God, I want to grab a fistful of that mussed-up hair, slam my mouth down on hers, and kiss her until she’s whimpering and we’re both gasping for air.

Everything in me wants to shove off those covers and lick her from top to bottom, kiss her breasts, and feel those nipples pebble under my tongue.

I want to bury my face between those thighs and lick every inch of that pussy until she’d begging me to take her.

I want her.

I’m desperate for her. So much it drives me to near insanity. A need unlike anything I’ve ever felt for anyone in my entire life. God, I would kill for a kiss from her. To feel the press of her soft lips against mine, those fingers digging into my shoulders with every wet glide of tongue.

Despite the raging need for her, it’s the memory of Axel’s words that glue me in place. I don’t want to take advantage of her, so I’ll be patient. I’ll back off and let her come to me. Even if it kills me, I’ll wait.

“Good morning,” I say, my voice gruff even to my own ears. “I brought breakfast.”