Gone For You: New Kings Motorcycle Club (2 page)

****

I hugged Sherry to me. Kissed her forehead.

My head screamed at the shit she went through. I knew how those fuckers partied. I knew Sherry's instincts were right; I knew I was terrified she might think I was biker trash and have gone with me because she'd railed against the idea of the devil you know.

She probably didn't think she knew me.

Fuck if I knew her.

But I knew that I wanted to.

Been gone for her since I met her prissy ass and being a grown, sexy as fuck woman now didn't make that any less true.

I needed to protect her.

I wasn't sure exactly how to do it. But I did know that what I now understood was that this was something to bring to the club, not act on and then act like his selfish shit told to the club after acting on was something he could haul out at church like something he did for the club.

How did Sherry always make things make sense for me? I didn't know how. Didn't need to. Just knew I needed to hold on to my Sherry.

I pulled out my cell to call a brother. I stayed next to Sherry, not wanting her to take me making a call to the club as something any way similar to the shit that hopefully her dumb fuck uncle had at least tried to hide from her. The kind of shit those white hate motherfuckers did wasn't right. Club never got dirty in any real way, and they didn't hide shit.

***

What had I really just heard on the phone?

Those patches. The back of that vest...

That
club
had to be a gang.

What in Thor's name had I gotten myself into?

First the obvious thing to me in that magical hindsight moment was that white supremacist gang that her awful uncle and his friends were in...Cale couldn’t be in some damned gang, too!

I wanted to cry when I thought about the awful things that they'd definitely done to other girls the way they'd talked about doing them to her.

Fuck...Fuck! Cale Logan, her Cale - he wouldn't do that. If he was gonna do it, wouldn't he have raped her last night?

But he wasn't really her Cale Logan. Her Cale Logan was the guy she talked to online. Knew as a kid. Dreamed about.

Maybe like her uncle's friends had said about her.

Maybe Cale didn't like to "fuck sleeping pussy."

It made my stomach revolt worse that the food poisoning I had a few years back to think things like that about Cale.

No, I thought things that warmed my belly and heated the very core of me when I thought about Cale.

Even if I did think he was in a gang, I realized that I did think that he was still the most alluring man I’d ever laid eyes on.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off him now, he was so gorgeous. Every inch of him was rippling with strong, corded muscles. His body was strong. It made me feel safe to look at him. To imagine those arms holding me…

But I couldn’t feel safe around someone who was in a gang. Not even Cale, right?

My mind screamed this, but my body screamed something else entirely. I wondered what it would be like to taste the sweat and firmness of his skin against my tongue. I couldn’t keep my eyes on him, but I wanted to not keep my hands off of him. I wanted to press my fingers across every inch of his strong chest, his gorgeous face.

I wanted more of Cale than I’d ever wanted anyone…wanted him in ways I didn’t even understand. But I f
elt
it.

I
craved
him. I always have.

***

My fucking throat tore down to my heart when I turned back, clicking my shitty burner phone closed and dumping it in my pocket, and saw how Sherry was looking at me. My Sherry. Looking at me like...that.

I hadn't hid from her. She must realize and glean something bad from a platoon of bikers I had just called and said I’d see when I got to the hotel. She probably thought she'd traded one set of racist assholes for ones with better rides.

That face said she had to be thinking something along those lines.

The way she was looking at me...

She feared the worst.

Damn. Gone was the sweet angel who'd been the guardian of his youth and come back to him. Shattered were the dreams she might be that angel for him again if she was looking at him with that look.

He had to tell her everything. The MC would take care of her.

He would take care of her.

Goddamnit. I would get back my woman.

Fuck me, I was lost. Because I had always thought of her as my woman. Always. But makin' her my old lady had never seemed possible until now, and now it was basically the only fucking thing I could manage to think between the rage I was trying to cool down at what hadn't happened to her and what she had gone through.

Some disgusting part of me, that dirty old biker trash I came by honest, wanted to have her. Horrified look, lustful look he might have thought he caught a glimmer of.

I wanted to tear off her clothes and bury my cock deep inside her, explode into her and fuck her so hard again and again. Make her sore for me for days.

Mark her as mine. Keep me on her mind. No matter the cost.

Because in MC life, the only life I know, we do own our women. And they like it, or the get the fuck out.

I wanted to claim Sherry, innocent Sherry, as my own. Make her scream for me stop, scream for me to never stop. I wanted to be lost
in
her.

I WOKE UP and smelled him.

Undeniably him.

It was a smell that clung to memories surrounding my heart. My heart was Cale Logan.

This was the scent of Cale Logan, grown up but still the same.

Salty, musky, spicy, woodsy. So sexy...

His body had ink now. He wore a leather vest full of macabre patches. His hands were rougher, calloused from physical labor. His body was taut with muscles of a working man, not a youth. He was firm, full on sexy male. Man.

Sexy, sexy man.

Most sexy of all. Most of all. He was Cale.

Cale.

A still asleep Cale, but he seemed incapable of anything but vigilance. His breath filling his chest and colliding with mine inhaled and exhaled any thoughts I had for reality, whisking them away as I welcomed the enveloping passion for Cale I'd never shaken, never even wanted to. I was mad for this man. A man now. This was the first time I'd seen him not so young. I could not keep my eyes off every inch of him.

I was burning to be this close to Cale.

Cale.

Cale Logan.

His eyes shot open but he looked at me with only warmth. He was a like a fierce predatory cat to me now, strong and sleek. I felt he was protective of me. I felt safe with Cale, no matter how little I knew. I realized that though we had done a lot of catching up, I still didn't know that much about what Cale really did now. Who he really was now. It stung.

"My-my uncle," I stammered, needing to really tell him not just what my life was like before I was back in this town, but what was happening now. I was grateful to be able to just talk easy with him last night, but now I felt the harshness of day and reality closing around me and knew that I needed to tell him what was up. Part of me knew that he would keep me safe and to do that I was going to have to 'fess up. "My uncle let me stay with him, but he's not who I remember and it is not what I had in mind," I gave the understatement of the year, hearing my words coming out a thousand miles a minute but it was the only way I was getting this out.

Saving me from my stammering, Cale pulled my face to his, our lips almost touching, words soft yet firm. His lips ignited me with then touch. I felt ten feet tall and all precious small like he always had made me feel.

My whole body tightened, heat pooling in my belly at his tongue exploring mine. I could feel the curl of white-hot, electric lust pulsing throughout me from his kiss capturing me. Flames curled to my belly from the warmth of his hands on my face. I shivered, trembled against him, needing him so badly I thought I was losing my mind. I was drowning in the firmness of him against me.

Coming up to breathe, his blazing eyes locked me in again.

"Baby, if they hurt you in any way, you tell me now. but you don't owe me or those racists fucks anything. They hurt you, Sher?"

"N-n-no," I hated myself for stuttering, but I felt secure in my want to tell him why I was so scared. "My uncle wouldn't - but he wouldn't stop his friends and his friends, they would."

Fury gleamed through Cale's eyes in a way that made him look dangerous. But I wasn't scared of him, or for the person on the other end. He made me feel safe. I didn't know what to do with that, so I willed my mind not to do anything with it.

"They haven't though," I added quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea when I didn't want to spell out the awful things I feared. "And I haven't seen you because I haven't been able to leave my room. I lock myself in my room most of the time, and I wanted to see the sun without the glass and that's why I was outside when you came for me."

SHERRY HAD EVERY reason to think the MC was scary. It fucking was. Is. She is right.

But I know I'll never leave the MC because I am never going to change.

I'm scary.

And I'm sure as hell not letting her go.

"No, Sherry. You love me. You came back to me. We've been together this whole time, even if not in person, and I'm not going to let you out of my arms, unless it is to put you on my bike. You may not be a MC chick, but you'll get it. We're going for a ride. Put this helmet on, then wrap around me tight, baby, because you gotta get your head into focus."

Sherry didn't say anything. Her lip trembled, her hands shook as she put the helmet on.

No, I'm not a good man.

I'm a biker. And I know she's gonna be my old lady, and I sure as fuck ain't letting her go. Nope, she's all mine. She's gonna see it.

Plus, I knew when I told her to wrap around me that it made her a little weak in the knees. Literally. They bowed against me a little, and her eyes glossed over dusky like. My woman wants me.

My. Woman.

She just needed to see it.

When I started up our very loud ride, I smiled when she squeezed me tighter. Fuck, our ride. I was totally gone for her and I just fucking knew there was no way that I was letting go.

But taking a nice route through hills and mountains, feeling each curve in the road as we whipped through wind together, time was water around us that was inconsequential.

She held tight as she needed to, but she
let go
.

Sherry was mine.

Gone for me.

Gone for the road.

Felt everything melt away when we got to a tree she might remember.

This was the place I'd taken her one time, on a picnic, something no other living person that had ever met me was ever gonna fucking know I'd done, much  less that I had suggested.

I'd said goodbye to her here. We'd kissed for the first time here at this tree. We were young then, and holding hands made our hearts race out of time.

She didn't know that I'd been literally fucking savin' myself for her.

No one knew it - I was a big badass biker virgin but even if my stupid ass hadn't known realized that was what I was doing, there was no one but Sherry for me and now, now I knew that.

I'd read plenty about sex. I'd even talked to some of the hangarounds.

Told the hangarounds never to tell anyone we didn't fuck. Asked 'em what felt good, this or that. I wasn’t oblivious to all the details. I just hadn’t acted on them yet. My cock was not thrilled with this, but it was better to stroke myself to relieve the tension than to bother with a bunch of bitches I didn’t want stick. I wanted Sherry.

Sure, it was weird that I never did anything to 'em after those conversations, but I figured that they all thought I was just a fuckin' serial killer or necrophiliac or something.

I pulled her off the bike, having to peel her off me, and I watched as she took off the helmet.

My dick strained so hard it hurt to be trapped in my jeans at the natural way her shiny, long hair flowed out of the helmet and swept around her head like a fuckin' angel.

She goddamn glowed in the sunlight.

I wanted to tear off her clothes and see how she really glowed everywhere. See her handful breasts straining her tee shirt would feel like if I squeezed, taste like if I sucked her nipple to hard peaks.

I instead pointed toward my bag, which she handed to me. A small gesture, but I sickly got off on wordlessly telling her what I wanted. On how she did it for me. And, oh, yes, she did it for me. My cock was pressing so hard against my jeans I grimaced a little. I’d waited this long and I simply couldn’t wait anymore.

Her eyes were still hooded with lust. Her big eyes looked up at me from under those thick, sexy lashes framing them and she was too fucking much to handle. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Whatever thoughts about running, about being away from me she had before were not on the menu right now.

I was on her menu. And I really fuckin' liked that.

I pulled out a blanket, sat it by the tree.

Same blanket, same tree. We looked at each other, and she asked with some small uttering, and I nodded, then pulled her close to me, wrapping my arms around her tiny little body and pressing it against me. I used every ounce of self control I had to not fuck her now, no conversation, no nothing. I knew she wanted it. Knew I needed it. But I couldn’t do that to my Sherry. I had to control myself.

Well, I didn’t need to control everything…

Crushing her tiny little body against mine, I could feel her nipples straining against the leather of my cut. Her little heart was racing, she was breathing fast and shallow against me.

Pressed my lips hard into hers, I laid her down on the blanket. I stole all her breath and sucked her up into me, holding her immobile against me. Her hot little body pressing against my straining cock made me crazy. Pressing my tongue into her mouth hard, I let her know the true fuck she would be getting soon.

She moaned in my mouth I nipped at her tongue a little bit. I was wild and I couldn’t help it. Didn’t wanna. 

I hope she knew this wasn’t gonna be a fucking picnic. I was a man now. The only thing we'd be eating today...well, I had every intention of enjoying my woman.