(Club Chrome MC 2) All Dogs Bite (11 page)

She looped her arm around his neck, pressing herself against him, her gaze narrowing. “Well, don’t give me a reason, you beautiful whore,” she retorted sweetly before sealing her mouth to his, sticking her tongue in his mouth. She forced his hand to rub her pubic mound and groaned against his lips. “God, you’re a fucking tease. Are you sure you don’t have time for a quickie?”

He should just fuck her to quell any suspicion she might have brewing in her jealous brain but he’d rather stick his dick in a meat grinder. For all her faults, Monica was an exciting lay. She was wild — dangerous even — in bed and that usually turned him on. She scratched and clawed, hell, Monica was known to bite on occasion but somehow it felt like a betrayal to Delainey if he went there. But why?
You aren’t in some kind of relationship with the woman — you’re using her
, that shitty little voice in the back of his head mocked his reluctance with scorn. If he gave Monica what she wanted, he’d buy himself a little more time because a happy Monica was a silent Monica.

“C’mon, baby,” she crooned, pulling him toward the bed as she dropped to her hands and knees, presenting her skinny ass for him. “No one fucks me like you do.” She reached between her legs and began rubbing herself. She groaned, undulating her hips as she pleasured herself. “Do it, baby. Stick it in, fuck me hard! C’mon, I need you!”

Jesus. He couldn’t fuck her if he wanted to. His dick was as limp and useless as an overcooked noodle. Sweat beaded his brow. Well, he was in a fucking tight spot, wasn’t he? He had no interest in fucking Monica but if he didn’t, she’d tell anyone and everyone he was alive, just out of spite, because she was that kind of woman. His hand strayed to his fly but stopped short of popping the button. He couldn’t do it.
Fuck me
, what was happening to him? When had he ever passed up the opportunity to dip his wick? Never. But the thought of sinking into that drippy, overused hole, made him want to vomit. His jaw firming, he slapped Monica’s ass hard and when she squealed and flipped around he reminded her that she wasn’t in charge. “When I’m interested in fucking you, I’ll let you know, babe. In the meantime, chill out and keep your mouth shut, you hear me?”

“You’re such an asshole,” she said with a smile, clearly loving the way he treated her like shit. The woman was dotty. “Mum’s the word,” Monica pretended to zip her lips and then proceeded to blow him a kiss on his way out. He felt like dodging the imaginary kiss but that was going a little far. He climbed onto his bike and wasted no time in splitting the scene. The last thing he needed was for someone to see him there and realize he was very much alive.

And he’d really like to keep it that way.

But as he ate up the miles putting him further and further away from Monica and his old neighborhood, he found his chest loosening up and he realized Delainey was changing him and he didn’t know if that was a good thing. Soft got you killed in his world. He should’ve had no problem giving Monica what she wanted. Hell, a week ago, he’d been making Monica squeal on a regular basis. Now? He couldn’t even fathom. That didn’t bode well. Monica wasn’t going to take too kindly to a break-up. Shit…she might even make good on her threat and try to cut his damn dick off!

Problems for another day, man.

For now, just try staying alive.

***

Delainey had dinner ready and on the small table by the time Bronx walked through the front door. He’d been gone all day and a part of her worried that he’d split, which certainly would’ve been his choice but she had to admit her heart beat a little bit faster when he walked in. “You came back,” she said with unabashed happiness.

“I need a shower,” he said, pausing when he saw the food. After a moment of indecision, he pulled out a chair and took a seat, eyeing the meal with hunger. “Smells pretty good.”

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure what you liked so I just went with a comfort food just in case you ended up not coming back,” she said, dishing up her twice-baked macaroni and cheese for him along with some garlic bread and chicken. A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and she paused, wondering if she was smothering him. “I’m sorry. My mom used to make my dad’s plate. I always thought it was sweet. If you don’t like it…”

“It’s fine. Nice, actually,” he said, waiting for her to fix her plate, which she found terribly endearing. “Thanks.”

She nodded and they started eating. Was it sad and pathetic that she was so incredibly happy at this moment? It wasn’t reality — she knew her bubble would pop eventually — but right now, she was floating along on a cloud of denial that was quite lovely. “So what did you do all day?” she asked.

He shoveled the food in his mouth at an alarming rate and answered around a hot bite with a shrug. “This and that. Picked up my bike. How about you?”

“I finished a project for a client,” she answered, moving quickly to the more important information. “You picked up your bike? Where is it?”

“I have it stashed close by in a safe place,” he said, reaching over to dish up some more macaroni. He pointed at the cheesy dish. “This is good. I like it.”

She couldn’t help but preen a little under his praise. “Thank you. It’s my grandmother’s recipe. The secret is the half and half, makes it creamy.”

He grunted and nodded but remained focused on his food until his plate was empty. Dragging his napkin across his mouth, he caught Delainey’s gaze and he seemed to force a quick smile for her benefit, which she found troubling. Where was the sweet guy who’d shared such vulnerability with her?
Not here at the dinner table, that’s for sure
. “Thanks for the grub. You’re a good cook.” He rose from the table, gesturing to the plates. “Need help cleaning up?”

“No, it’s fine. Go ahead and shower,” she answered, wondering what kind of day he’d had to come back so curt and surly. Maybe he’d found out news on who had tried to kill him. That’d surely ruin her day if someone was trying to kill her. That was probably it.

Bronx disappeared into her bedroom and she heard the shower start up. She made quick work of the kitchen and then followed. She found him still in the shower, head down, the spray beating his crown as he braced himself against the wall. He looked as if he had the weight of the world pressing down on him.
Poor guy
. She stripped and quietly joined him, surprising him when she slid her hands around his torso and pressed herself against him. “I was worried you weren’t coming back,” she admitted in a small voice.

“I almost didn’t.”

She blinked back sudden tears. “Why did you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Oh. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? “Is something wrong? I mean…did I do something wrong?”

He made an exasperated sound and turned, taking her gently by the shoulders. “Delainey, it’s not you. It’s me. I’m no good for you. I’ve tried to tell you that a million times but you’re not hearing me. I came back because I still have someone who wants me dead and this is the best hideout I can manage right now.”

Ouch. She blinked back sudden tears. “I understand,” she said, trying not to let his honesty sting as much as it did. What else had she expected? A sudden declaration of undying love and commitment?
C’mon, Delainey…get real
.

But then he grabbed her and planted a searing kiss on her lips with such ferocity that the force of it bruised. She clung to him, desperate to feel him against her, to know that happiness again, and she swam in the sensation of being swept up by the magnetic force that was Bronx. “I’m sorry,” he murmured in a pained whisper against her lips and even though his apology seemed to contradict everything he’d just said, she thrilled at the same time. He felt something for her, even if it wasn’t love — it was something. He framed her face, staring deep into her eyes, the water pelting his back. There was something haunting him, something eating at him and she wished he’d just tell her what was going on in his head because maybe she could help. But the moment passed as quickly as it came and then his touch turned urgent. Lifting her leg onto his thigh, he grunted as he positioned his cock at her opening, pushing into her willing heat without hesitation. She clung to him as he pistoned his thick shaft into her, his thrusts as desperate and urgent as her unmanageable feelings for him. She accepted each wild push as he pummeled her womb with the punishing force of his cock and she reveled in the violence of it — the honesty of the emotion she sensed emanating from his body like waves of heat from a desert road. He came quickly, shuddering as he pumped his seed deep inside her and she simply accepted it, not caring that they hadn’t used protection, yet again. She was quickly losing her heart — and sanity — with Bronx because at that moment…she didn’t care if she got pregnant. Carrying a tiny piece of Bronx under heart seemed like a beautiful prospect and in that moment, she fervently hoped that one of those industrious swimmers found its mark.

***

Bronx climbed into Delainey’s bed, emotionally strung out and feeling like the biggest fraud in the world with Delainey snuggling up to him like the sweetest thing he’d ever known and it was eating him up inside. The why of it was what kept poking at him. Why was he feeling so tore up inside? He’d known Delainey all of three days — he didn’t owe her anything in the way of fidelity so why did he feel this overwhelming need to confess his sins?

The memory of Monica’s mouth on him made him want to wash again. At one time, he and Monica had been a pretty regular thing – fuck buddies, really. She understood that he didn’t want a commitment from her and she knew better to expect it from him. But there’d be no such conversation with Delainey. It would crumple her soft heart to know that he was such an unfeeling bastard.

But was he? If that were truly the case, he wouldn’t be wasting another minute stressing over what amounts to a momentary release and a terrible inconvenience. He hadn’t wanted Monica to give him a blow job. That in itself was troubling. Monica had a pretty talented technique when it came to bobbing on the nob. But he hadn’t been interested. In fact, his stomach was still roiling each time he flashed to it in his memory.

“What’s wrong?”

Delainey’s quiet question interrupted his mental quandary and while he was sorely tempted to just out himself, he shrugged and tightened his hold on her.

“Did you find out who might be after you?”

He sighed. “Well, I got an idea why someone might be wanting to put a bullet in me but not the who specifically.”

“How are you going to find out?”

“I wish I knew. I need to ask more questions but it’s tricky because I don’t want too many people looking for me.”

“No one saw you get your bike?”

“No,” he lied.

“Well, that’s good.” Her arms tightened around his chest and her breath warmed his bare chest. “I know it’s silly but I like having you here. Feels good. I know it will end but I’m not in a hurry, you know?”

Yeah, he knew. Oddly, he felt the same. But that was dangerous, not only to him but to her, too. “All good things come to an end,” he said wryly, using a trite statement to deflect the real feelings banging around in his heart. “You should lock your windows at night,” he told her, running his finger lightly down her arm. “You shouldn’t take that kind of risk with your safety.”

“Yeah but if I’d locked my windows a few nights ago I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Exactly. Maybe that would’ve been a good thing.”

“I don’t believe that. Whatever happens, I don’t regret finding you on my floor.”

The sincerity in her tone nearly undid him. “You don’t know me, Delainey…don’t give me your heart. It’ll only end up bad for you.”

She lifted off his shoulder to gaze down at him, the softness in her sweet stare more than he could handle.
Don’t look at me like that, baby girl. I don’t deserve it
. “I know I shouldn’t — but I trust you,” she told him. “I know there’s goodness in you, Bronx. It calls to me and I can’t stop listening. I’ve never been happier than I am right now. That’s the truth. You’re everything I never realized I wanted.”

“Stop, Dee,” he told her, horrified by the prick of tears in his eyes. “Just stop. Don’t romanticize what we have. I’m a bastard, do you hear me? A fucking bastard. I do bad things and I don’t think twice about it. What kind of guy is that? Let me tell you…one that’s not for you. You deserve far better than I could ever give you. Please…I don’t want to be responsible for your broken heart later. I have enough to deal with without having to add your tender feelings on top of it.”

He expected to see her eyes well up with tears but she shocked him when she climbed on top of him, her gaze determined. “Now listen to me, Bronx Eugene Harris…I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”

“Yeah? And what exactly am I doing?” he asked softly, instantly mesmerized by her glorious, bountiful tits. His hands ached to fill with their softness but he forced himself to tuck his hands behind his head, as if unaffected by the display.

“You’re trying to convince me that you’re so bad so I don’t get hurt but I’m calling bullshit on your act. You care about me, Bronx. Just admit it. I’m not asking you to marry me — just don’t deny that you feel something for me. I’ve spent my whole life being marginalized and pushed aside by men who told me I wasn’t good enough for them and I won’t listen to you tell me that you’re not good enough for me. I know what I want and I want you. It’s crazy and insane, yeah, but that’s just the way it is. We can both fight it because it’s not supposed to make sense or we can grab this opportunity and ride it until it drops from exhaustion. What do you say?”

Ahhh, hell, girl
. He swallowed a suspicious lump in his throat. Seemed a small thing, right? Just admit that he cared. But he couldn’t. She’d realize someday that he was doing her a solid but for now…he opened his mouth but she’d started to slowly grind on his semi-hard cock, rubbing her wetness across his dick until he couldn’t think straight.

“I dare you to tell me you don’t want me,” she said boldly, her cheeks pinking as her breath quickened. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone.”