Fire Inside: A Chaos Novel (12 page)

Gently and carefully, going slow, his hand copped a feel of the skin on my hip, exposed by his tee, which had ridden up. Other than that, it was clear he thought I was asleep and he was doing everything he could not to wake me.

This was, unfortunately, what I was coming to realize was Hop. He tucked me in bed. He kissed my hair, forehead, temple, or shoulder soft and sweet whenever he left me. And he moved carefully in order not to wake me.

Making matters worse, he obviously thought I was asleep.

Still, before he left me, he kissed me.

The gesture didn’t even count for brownie points since he thought I was asleep and he still did it.

I didn’t want more confirmation of knowledge I was trying not to process and I wished I didn’t have it.

So I shoved it into the back of my head.

Then, as I lay there alone in his bed feigning sleep, the events of the evening before crashed over me. This forced me to exert not a small amount of sleepy effort in order not to process the fact that the evening before, I found out a badass biker cared about me and thus kept an eye on me, saved me from being raped, gave me honesty I refused to acknowledge, and then gave me four orgasms before he let me fall asleep in his tee.

This took a lot of effort, which was near on impossible without coffee. Therefore I heard the toilet flush before I realized that I should have taken the opportunity while Hop was in the bathroom to get dressed and get the heck out of there.

This was a moot point because I felt his presence in the room right before I heard a knock on the door.

I tensed.

I didn’t want anyone to know I was there.

I loved Ty-Ty. She’d been my family for a long time—true family, real family, the kind you choose, not the kind fate chooses for you. Tack and the boys had all welcomed me when they welcomed Tyra. They’d gone all out to protect Elliott and me, Tack especially. When I returned to Denver, they folded me in Chaos arms. Growing up close to a country club with a banker father and a wealthy, Southern farmer princess mother, I would not have expected I would feel comfortable in the bosom of that particular family. But if Chaos adopted you, the way they did it, it was impossible not to feel comfortable.

So I didn’t want whatever might come of someone finding out Hop and I hooked up. Even if it was over (something I would share with him again when we talked), it was not anyone’s business. I had an agency to run. I had employees and clients who depended on me. I had something happening to me that I didn’t quite get and didn’t have the energy to find a way to understand. I didn’t need to deal with whatever reaction anyone would have, most especially Tyra and Tack, if they found out about me and Hop.

No, I
couldn’t
deal.

So I didn’t want to be in the position of having to.

“Brother,” I heard Hop greet whoever it was quietly. “Not a good time. We’ll talk later.”

A knowing smile in his voice, I heard the reply, “Got gash in there?”

This voice I knew. High, one of the brothers. I liked High even if he was less approachable and good-humored than some of the other guys. He’d always been nice to me.

But at his words, my body tensed. “Gash” was one of the not-so-nice words the guys used to refer to women, not so nice in a way that I hated it, as any woman would.

“You like your nose like it is?” Hop growled and my eyes opened so they could blink.

He had been talking quietly, thinking I was sleeping.

Now he was unmistakably
ticked
in a way it was clear he didn’t care if he woke me.

“Come again?” High asked. His tone no longer smiling. He sounded surprised.

No, shocked.

“You like your nose like it is, brother, you shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Hop warned.

This was met with silence.

Hop broke the silence. “You not leavin’ tells me you got somethin’ to say. Say it. Got shit to do.”

“Tug and Roscoe were on patrol last night,” High declared.

Patrol?

“And?” Hop prompted.

“Three of them on the corner of Broadway and Mississippi.”

I stared at the pillow uneasily and with some confusion, since I didn’t know what these words meant, but I could feel a hostile wave rolling through the room.

“Benito put three bitches on a four-lane road that leads into the heart of the city?” Hop asked, his voice dripping with disbelief that was less incredulity and more hope that High would tell him he was joking.

“Dick has balls,” High answered, which I took as affirmative.

“Christ,” Hop muttered.

“Tug says they ousted them but those bitches know we got no beef with them so they got no danger from us. This means they ain’t scared of us. They’re scared of Benito. And you know that means, Benito sends them to a corner on Chaos, they’ll go back,” High stated. “Tack’s up the mountain, comin’ down. Roscoe reported in to him, Tack called me. You and me are up for patrol tonight. We find gash, he needs us to make a stronger statement than Tug and Roscoe can make.”

Oh dear.

What did
that
mean?

“Talk to Dog or Brick. Got somethin’ on tonight,” Hop told him and I closed my eyes.

“Tack wants you. You got a way with gash,” High replied, and I didn’t like the sound of that at all so I closed my eyes tighter.

“Talk to Dog or Brick, High. I got somethin’ on tonight,” Hop repeated, his voice low and impatient.

This was met with another long silence. Then, “I’ll talk with Dog or Brick.”

“Obliged,” Hop muttered and I heard the door click.

Moments later, the bed moved as Hop got back in it.

His body shifted right to mine, curving in, his hand finding the bunched up end of his tee and moving in, up my skin, toward my breast.

My body tensed.

His fingers curved around my breast, warm, claiming.

Sweet.

I pressed my lips together.

I felt him shift again before I felt his ’tache at my ear.

“Babe, know you’re not sleeping,”

I said nothing and continued to feign sleep.

Hop pressed closer. “Lady, you sleep loose and you’re wound up tight. I know you aren’t sleeping.”

I kept my eyes closed but asked, “Who’s Benito?”

His fingers around my breast curled tighter before they relaxed and his hand moved up to my chest. His body moved away from mine and I found myself on my back because his hand on my chest pressed me there.

Then his hand moved out of his tee as he rolled over me. I opened my eyes just as his fingers slid into the side of my hair and his thumb stroked light at my temple.

He looked good in the morning, his stubble around his mustache thick and dark, his eyes still holding a hint of sleep.

Not to mention, the thumb at my temple thing felt nice.

Gah!

“First,” he began softly, “good morning.”

“Good morning,” I replied, then asked again, “Who’s Benito?”

He grinned before his head dipped closer and his lips brushed mine.

That felt nice, too.

Then again, it always did.

He lifted his head and caught my eyes as he muttered, “She starts right up, not even waitin’ for coffee.”

“Who’s Benito?” I repeated.

He studied me.

Then he said, “You want it, baby, you got it.”

His hand moved to cup my jaw and I waited but not long.

“Depending on the brother, old ladies can be in the know or not. If they are, they don’t talk. Not to other brothers, not to each other. As for you, what you heard was unfortunate. I opened the door to get rid of who was behind it and I did it buck naked so I couldn’t move into the hall. That shit won’t happen again. Beyond what you heard, you aren’t gonna know.”

There were not many sentences there but, regardless, there was a good deal to go over.

“I’m not your old lady,” I declared.

He grinned and asked, “You aren’t?”

“No,” I stated firmly.

“In my tee, in my bed, after a night where my condom stash got lighter by three, lady. Beg to differ,” he replied.

“So that’s what it takes? A tee and sex?” I queried, my brows going up.

“No,” he answered, his voice going deeper, his thumb stroking sweet along my jaw. “Now, honey, since it’s time you got to know me, you’re gonna get to know me.”

Oh dear.

Before I could protest, he kept going.

“Got rules for the women I take to my bed. No sleep. Don’t ever wake up to a woman. It sends the wrong message.
Really
no fuckin’ tee. Bitches claim tees. I don’t need to be clothing half of Denver.”

“Is that how many,” I hesitated before saying with emphasis, “
bitches
you’ve had? Half of Denver?”

“Do you care?” he fired back instantly.

“No,” I lied.

“Liar.” He called me on it.

I shut my mouth.

He grinned but opened his. “You, babe, can have my tee.”

I rolled my eyes.

When I rolled them back he wasn’t grinning. He was smiling.

“You, it’s about bedroom eyes. Fuckin’ great hair. Long legs. A tight, sweet pussy that gets so fuckin’ wet, swear to Christ, every time I have it, don’t know whether to bury my face or my dick in it. Your perfume on my sheets. The way you look at me when I tuck you in bed, like I gave you diamonds, something precious, something you wanna keep safe, something you want forever. Woman like you could get diamonds just crookin’ her finger, so a woman like you shouldn’t find a man tuckin’ you in bed precious. But you do. It’s also about you tellin’ me you won’t take it there with me but, I kiss you, you ignite. Some men like a game. Others like a challenge.” His smile got wider. “You found a man who likes a challenge.”

“Great,” I muttered and his grin didn’t waver.

He also wasn’t done.

“It’s also about you tellin’ me you miss me and, lady,” he said swiftly when I opened my mouth to speak, “don’t deny it. You said it. You meant it. You’ll learn you can’t bullshit me, but, I’ll just say in case it sinks in early, you can’t bullshit me. All that might not be enough for another brother, but babe,” he gave a light shrug, “it’s enough for me.”

“That’s insane,” I told him.

“Lanie, I’m a member of a motorcycle club. Used to people out there in the other world thinkin’ I got a screw loose. Also don’t give a shit they think that way.”

He gave it to me, my opening, so I jumped on it. “So you don’t give a shit I think that way?”

He grinned again. “Honestly? No. Not now. You aren’t thinkin’ straight so you think that way with your head as messed up as it is?” He shook his head. “I don’t give a shit you think that way.”

“My head isn’t messed up,” I announced and his grin got bigger and, that close, in the morning, sexier.

Gah!

“Babe.”

That was all he said.

Time to move on.

“It’s my understanding that old ladies hold a slightly elevated role in your world. Not that high, since your structure includes the brotherhood up top, bikes under that, living and riding free under that and, possibly, old ladies, if one was lucky, under that,” I stated. “Women in your world have to work to that position, something I haven’t done nor do I intend to do. You and I are fuck buddies. Or we
were.
”

His brows went up. “Were?”

“This ends this morning,” I declared to which, immediately, he threw his handsome, stubble-jawed head back and burst out laughing so hard it shook me
and
the bed.

“Do you find something amusing?” I asked irately through his laughter.

Also through his laughter he focused on me and spoke. “Yeah, honey. The clue is me laughing.”

I glared and decided I was done with our talk. Therefore I lifted my hands to his shoulders and shoved.

This had no effect except that he dropped his head, buried his face in my neck and kept laughing there.

I glared at the ceiling, trying not to process how nice that felt.

His hilarity muted to chuckling so I decided it was time to speak again.

“Get off me, Hopper. I’m getting a taxi to my car and going home.”

He lifted his head, smiled down at me, then shook that head. “No you aren’t. We’re gonna talk, get things straight, then we’re gonna fuck, then I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

“Those may be your plans for this morning but they aren’t mine.”

“They’re yours.”

I didn’t say anything mostly because the back and forth of me saying something and Hop disagreeing was both frustrating and irritating and I wasn’t doing it again.

The problem with that was, unable to contradict him, I couldn’t do what I wanted to do since I also couldn’t shift him off me.

“Hopper, get off,” I ordered.

“No.”

“Off.”

“Babe, no.”

There we were again, the back and forth.

Frustrating
and
annoying.

I shoved hard at his shoulders and grunted,
“Off!”

He pressed into me, his face got close and I stilled because suddenly he looked serious.

“You’re Cherry’s so you’ve been let in, babe, but do not think for one fuckin’
second
observing the Club lets you in the know about what goes on in a brother’s head, his home or his bed. Any of us,” he started.

The way he said this made me hold my breath.

“That said,” he went on, “that shit you spouted about what you understand about a brother’s woman is more proof your head is totally fucked up, because part of that is selective and the rest of it is twisted and you know it.”

I hated to admit it but he had a point.

He went on to force his point home.

“You cannot lie under me after watching Tack with Cherry for eight goddamned years and tell me his brothers, his bike, and livin’ free means more to him than his wife and, I’ll add, his fuckin’ kids. That, you know completely, you witness it, you feel it. That’s your girl. You know what she’s got. Seen you cacklin’ with Sheila, who’s sweet as sugar, but that don’t mean she’d take shit from any man. She gets it good from Dog, you know it, so you know that bullshit that came outta your mouth doesn’t hold true with Dog, either. Seen you also sit close with Brick, seein’ to him when one of his bitches cuts him, so you know he’s got shit taste, but when he lets them in, he opens up so they can dig deep.”