Lucky (Inked Menace MC 1) (7 page)

10
Chapter Ten

His eyes reminded her of two prisms; they seemed to be lit from within. The light green color glowed in the darkness of the room. The only ambient lighting was coming from the moon’s rays streaming through the window.

Cecelia was trapped in a sexual haze and her entire body felt consumed by the man above her. She reached up and touched his face, picking her head up off the mattress to nuzzle his neck as sensations built in her abdomen, her toes tingled, and her fingertips felt like they held an electrical charge. “I’m so close, Luke,” she whispered into his ear and then bit his lobe, tugging the soft skin down and smiling when he growled. “Harder,” she said.

“You’re a tiny hu-thing.” He seemed to catch himself. She wasn’t sure what he’d been about to say. Maybe he was as lost in her as she was in him.

“You won’t break me.” She giggled and held her breath when he hit the perfect spot. “Right there,” she said on a breathy exhale. “Our bodies are made for this, so let loose and just fuck me senseless, will you? I need it.”

He pulled out of her and she whimpered at the abrupt loss of friction. He shifted quickly and said, “On your knees,” and hastily pushed on her leg to get her to turn over.

“Now you’re talking,” she said and flipped onto her belly and raised her ass in the air. She tried to wiggle seductively. His hands cupped her bare ass cheeks and then there was a whoosh of air as her skin burned and a loud crack rang around the room.

She spun her head to look at him over her shoulder, her hair falling into her face, but she glared at him as her butt stung. “What was that for?”

He shrugged and gave her a sly smile. “To get your attention.”

“You had my attention!”

He just laughed and then started to rub the tender spot he’d just spanked. A moment later, he rubbed the head of his cock against her wet folds and she forgot she’d been mad at him once he plunged back inside and worked her slowly, with gentle effectiveness, pushing his cock up when he pulled out so it would graze her clit.

“Touch yourself, little bird.”

She reached down her abdomen and found her clit with practiced ease. She circled and stroked, then pinched her clit between her fingers as he pumped like a madman behind her, hurrying the pace. A low hum rattled from his chest. Inside she felt his cock thicken – if such things were possible – and stretch her inner walls further, making her moan and buck. She shoved her hips back to meet his every thrust.

“God, you feel amazing. Like my wet dream come to life,” he said behind her and griped her hips in a bruising hold.

Her heart heard the words and pounded in her chest, some spark igniting long-dormant places in her fragile ego. Places she thought had died.

Instead of focusing on the weird emotions rolling around her mind, she decided to revert focus back to physical sensations. It was safer that way. She couldn’t get attached to Lucky. He wasn’t really hers.

She knew he had secrets buried deep. She saw them every time she stared into his eyes, but he didn’t trust her, and why would he? They barely knew each other.

She almost laughed out loud. Here he was possessing her body, but she was trying to convince herself they didn’t have anything else. Only sex. Chemistry. Lust.

Anything more than that and she feared she’d be incapable of giving him what he deserved. Because a man like him deserved a whole woman. One who wasn’t broken beyond repair.

“Earth to Cecelia.” Lucky’s voice pulled her from the desolate cloud of despair. “Where’d you go?”

Her eyes snapped to his over her shoulder as she picked her head up. “Sorry. My mind wandered.”

Lines marred his handsome face, creasing his forehead. His lips were turned down. His body stilled though his cock was still nestled deep within her sex.

“You want to talk about it?”

Cecelia softened even though her body still burned. “Maybe some other time. Right now, I really need to come.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I want to poke around that psyche of yours, but first things first,” he said and grabbed her ankles, then pulled her legs straight so she flopped onto her stomach.

“Oomph,” she muttered. “Damn, part of me loves that you’re so take-charge, but the other part of me wants to hit you for not giving me some warning.”

He flipped her over so she was lying on her back again, positioned himself between her legs, and placed her thighs over his legs. When she raised a brow he licked his lips and said, “This way we can keep eye contact and you’ll stay grounded, here with me, and not wander off at the pivotal moment.”

Cecelia nodded solemnly and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the exasperated look on his face. He wagged a finger at her at the same time he inched inside her, one delicious nudge after another, stretching her to the max until he was seated to the hilt and she was gripping his forearms for dear life.

“Did you get bigger?” she asked in all seriousness.

“Wish I had that skill,” he said and glanced down to where their bodies were joined. “Although…” he said, and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, then scrunched his face. “Now that you mention it, my dick does seem thicker.”

Intrigued, Cecelia sat up and examined his large hand holding the base. He flicked his index finger out and pressed her clit, causing her to stop and tremble. The position they were in was very intimate and sensual, and when she stared at his face while he touched her most sensitive spot, she found herself taking an uneasy step down the rabbit hole.

“You make me feel alive.” she said, and reached out to press her hand against his beating heart. “And safe.”

He shifted so his hand covered hers on his chest. His heart thumped wildly, and tiny beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and slid down his cheek. “Thank you,” he said and closed his eyes, seeming to soak in her words like she was some kind of savior.

A loud bang followed by shouting came from the hallway outside their door, and Lucky stilled above her, opened his eyes and glared at the piece of wood as if he were waiting for someone to barrel through any minute.

“What is it?” Cecelia raised her voice to be heard over the yelling.

“I’m not sure yet, but it doesn’t sound good.”

The haze abated, leaving her shivering in a tangled web of satin sheets and troubled feelings.

“Fuck it,” he said, and resumed thrusting his hips forward and back while running his hands up her inner thighs, adding another layer to the sensation overload.

“No, fuck
me,”
Cecelia said and choked on a laugh. She fell back onto the bed and tilted her hips, arching her back so he would hit a deeper spot. “Oh, yeah, right there, she moaned, a hitch to her breath.

“I’m right there with you. I’ve been on the edge ever since I first felt your juices coat my shaft.”

A swarm of sensation grew in her belly, flowed down her abdomen into her sex, and pins and needles danced through her veins. She reached for it, trying to clutch the lightning to her so she could explode and ride the wave of ecstasy.

“Oh God, oh God,” she said as the feeling deepened, blossomed, and burst. Her entire body spasmed, from her tingling toes to her arched neck, and she moaned and thrashed while the orgasm of a lifetime rocked through her. She squeezed her eyes closed.

In a fog she heard him shout, felt him tremble above her, then felt a hot rush of fluid filling her with his climax. “Fucking a-goddamn-men,” he said as he shifted over her. He brushed his forehead against hers, then nuzzled her cheek with his chin, grazing her neck, and settled his weight on top of her. “This okay?”

“Better than,” she said and sighed into him, relaxing amidst the chaos outside the door, but for now, they were sated, safe, and content.

Until the door blew off the hinges.

11
Chapter Eleven

Of course there would be a fucking brawl in the dorms on a Friday night. Fucking shifters couldn’t keep their shit together. Too much intensity, too much alpha drama. That was part of the reason Lucky had never ascended to alpha when Drake was imprisoned. He’d been the vice president and was second in line. He could lead; he just didn’t feel the incessant urge that most alphas felt pounding in their blood to dominate everyone around them.

Lucky was a sigma – free to choose whom he dominated. He glanced at his little bird, who lay like the satisfied female she was, and nodded with a self-satisfied smile on his face despite the fact that three men were currently throwing punches at each other inside his room.

He jumped from the bed and roared, “Get the fuck out, now!”

The three young members came to a screeching halt as Lucky faced them, and he knew what they saw that Cecelia couldn’t see: his eyes were pure gold and his teeth had elongated in his mouth. “Find a hammer, fix my door, and be quiet,” he said in deadly quiet voice.

“Yes, yes, sir,” one of the boys said and almost fell to the floor on his stomach at Lucky’s feet. As it was, all three were on their knees with their heads bowed under the weight of his anger. He’d flung his irritation at them in a whiplash of energy and they’d buckled beneath the pressure. None of these males would be an alpha.

He sucked in a deep breath and pulled his power back to him like a cloak, buttoning it up and holding it tight to keep the chill off once they rose to their feet. “Now apologize to my old lady.”

The word
mate
had hovered so close to the surface of his thoughts he’d had to bite the word back.

“Sorry, ’ma’am,” they said in unison, then rose and left the room. The last one picked up the door and set it down against the frame. “We’ll be right back,” he said, then all but ran from the room.

Lucky turned to face Cecelia prepared to answer a shit-ton of questions, but she was lying there with her upper lip folded into her mouth and her eyes sparkling with amusement. Not at all what he had expected.

“Damn, Luke, you scared the piss out of them.”

Inside, his wolf rose and stood tall, shaking out his fur under the praise. He liked her, and wanted to have her run her hands through his fur.
She’s not ready,
Lucky told his beast. In response, his wolf cocked his head to the side and ignored him, listening to the woman next to him chatter on about absolutely nothing important. Even though he knew she rambled incessantly because she was nervous, he found himself hanging on every word she spoke.

“I like you,” he blurted out without thinking.

Her face lightened, and her eyes widened. Her pretty mouth opened into a round shape and then she squeaked. Honest to fucking God, the woman squeaked like a mouse before she dove under the covers.

Lucky rolled his eyes and climbed onto the bed, lifting the covers to peer at his little bird. “I don’t like playing head games. I like you, and I know you like me. So eventually we’re going to have a sit-down and talk like grown-ups. But not tonight,” he said, then lowered the covers back down to the mattress to give her time to process, even though that grated on his nerves and he wanted her to respond immediately to his declaration.

“Okay.” He heard her mumbled whisper through the comforter. “I like you too.”

“Tomorrow we talk. After sleep, sex, coffee, and breakfast. In that order.”

Her giggle was music to his ears. The high-pitched sound soothed all the tight places in his heart and smoothed them over with some kind of sugary icing. She was dangerous to his health, but he’d be damned if he was going to fuck things up or leave them to chance. He was a lucky bastard, and he never made the same mistake twice.

He climbed back into bed after the young shifters had replaced his door, then proceeded to rock her world three more times before they both fell into a dead sleep.

The table held eggs, bacon, ham, sausage, hash, home fries, and toast. “This…this looks delicious,” Cecelia said, and scooped food onto her plate. “I’m starving.” He enjoyed the pink color of her cheeks as she said the words, and the fact that her eyes went a little unfocused with what he presumed were the memories of last night.

They were alone in his bunkroom, sitting at the small table nestled in the corner by the lone window.

“But can you walk? That’s the question.” Lucky grinned and shoveled food onto his plate. He wondered if she’d notice how much he actually ate. She was pretty freaking observant, and he wasn’t ready to tell her about his other nature. Speaking of which, he glanced at his watch and calculated how many more days remained until the full moon. He groaned inwardly when he saw there were only six more days. He’d have to tell her before then, because he still planned to lock himself in the basement of his house.

His wolf whined in his head and pawed the ground of his mind.

“Walking is difficult. I’m sore in places I didn’t even know I could be sore.” She sipped her coffee and leaned back in her chair, examining him over the rim of her mug. “How about you, stud?”

He loved the way her eyes sparkled, and the way she joked with him. It’d been so long since he had had a playmate. Someone to verbally spar with, who understood his way of bantering. Amber, as much as he had adored her, had never got his humor.

“I’m a little tired, but I could go again,” he said and shrugged, then popped a piece of hot bacon in his mouth and suppressed the moan threatening to spill from his mouth. The prospect had done good with the food. He’d have to thank him later.

He polished off his first plate, and when she wasn’t looking at him, refilled it and began to eat faster.

“Slow down, killer. The food ain’t going nowhere,” she drawled. “I don’t care how much you eat, if you’re worried for some strange reason. Plus, I need you to keep up your strength if we’re going to have day two.” Her index finger rested by the corner of her mouth as she played seductively with her lip. In the light of day, her eyes looked even lighter blue, like she’d shed some weight from their depths.

“So.” She set her cup down on the table and picked at the rest of her food. When she lifted up her face again, he saw knowledge swimming inside her head. “Do you ever plan to tell me what kind of animal you and the crew shift into?”

He spluttered coffee all over the table, which caused Cecelia to double over in laughter. He moved his hands, looking at the table, the floor, and all around for something to clean up the mess. A small hand towel hit him in the face and he caught it out of reflex.

“I told you I know a few things about a few things. So you don’t have to hide what you are in front of me, okay? And actually, don’t tell me what the other officers are. It’s more fun to guess.” She clapped her hands together and looked very much like an enthusiastic child. Her joy was infectious, and he found himself grinning instead of being irritated.

“How do you know about the supernatural world?”

She sat straighter in her chair and blew out a breath. “My family hails from a line of gatekeepers. A long time ago, we used to protect the shifters from being discovered. Now that human civilizations have evolved, there isn’t much use for us, but the knowledge still endures the times. We pass it down the line. Just in case.”

His mouth hung open as he took in the information. He’d heard stories about the gatekeepers. “Well, shit. That makes things both easier and harder,” he laughed. “Easier because I don’t have to hide what I am, but harder because I don’t have to hide what I am. Does that make sense?”

“Not even a little bit,” she said, and forked another bite of eggs. “Want to explain?”

How could he tell her about Amber and make her feel safe? Once she knew that he had failed to protect his girlfriend, she’d probably run screaming to Hammer about wanting another shifter to protect her instead, and he wouldn’t blame her.

He didn’t have a choice, so he bit the bullet and exhaled some of his tension. He searched for the calm he found doing yoga and said, “My former girlfriend is dead because of me.”

Lucky waited, watching her face like a hawk, trying to glean her thoughts about this bombshell. Her face was a carefully constructed blank mask.

“Go on,” she said and nodded. She reached across the table and patted his hand with encouragement.

“She didn’t know I was a shifter. We dated for years and I hid my true nature from her. One night, she and I and my best friend Remmy were out riding. The night was warm and there weren’t any clouds in the sky.” He closed his eyes and remembered the sultry air as they wound around the back roads in the dark of night.

He recalled the ambush by a rival club. They’d learned he was out riding and had traps set on a few different roads. They’d come out of nowhere with guns blazing to take out the VP of Inked Menace because they couldn’t get to Hammer or Drake, who’d just been arrested.

“Why do you feel responsible for her death?” she asked in a soft voice filled with compassion.

“We were ambushed on a joy ride by a rival club looking to make a name for themselves. They tried to kill me and instead murdered her and Remmy. He was an omega wolf and his death caused a ripple effect in our pack. Amber’s death threw me into a tailspin of depression. She was human and I hadn’t protected her.”

Lucky stared at his hands clenched on his lap, but he felt the weight of Cecelia’s stare like a ton of bricks. He sensed her stand up and move toward him. He forced himself not to flinch or lift his face to see the condemnation in her eyes.

Her feet were in front of him and when he didn’t glance up, she knelt down instead, ducking to catch his attention. “You’re a shapeshifter, not the invisible man, or the Flash, Lucky. I’m sorry she died. That must have been so hard.”

She reached up and clasped their hands together, and pulled up as she stood, her knees creaking. He reluctantly raised himself up to his full height. He relaxed once she had wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, though. His spirit calmed in her presence, and it was an intoxicating feeling.

She smiled up at him and said, “Her death is a tragedy. So is Remmy’s. It’s hard to forgive yourself when you feel like you’ve failed someone, or that their death was your fault.” Her eyes swam with tears and she clutched his shirt as the tears fell in fast drops down her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, knowing her sadness wasn’t solely over his plight.

“When Peter attacked me and I ended up in the hospital, I was pregnant with our daughter, Olivia.”

She buried her face against his chest as a sob crushed his heart into pieces. He rubbed her back as she cried, silently vowing to dismember the bastard who’d killed his own child and abused his wife. Her sobs subsided and she peeked up at him from under wet lashes with a fierceness he’d only seen when his mom had sheltered him and his brother from an intruder when they were cubs.

“I understand how you feel,” she whispered, and for once, he knew that someone shared his pain. That he wasn’t alone.

He reached up and brushed the tears from her face with his thumbs and stroked her soft skin with the pads of his fingers, a lightness seeping into his veins, casting out the shadows of grief he’d carried for so long.

“Thank you,” he whispered, then leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her lips, cradling her face in his hands, an odd contentment flowing from her skin to his. They were united in pain.