Harmony (The Club Girl Diaries Book 1) (12 page)

Del was fast though. Thank God for that. She talked to me the whole time, gushing about how lucky I was to have Kit. She told me about how he was fierce and strong, perfect to be taking over from his father as president of the chapter. He was a natural born leader and his loyalty ran deep, but he was also very kind and full of heart.

Listening to her talk about him just told me everything I already knew. He was sexy and sweet and so strong. I absorbed her words, hoping that I would find something to hold onto. I knew that Kit wasn’t going to let me go easily and I also knew that deep down, I really didn’t want him to let me go. I wanted to believe that he meant everything he said, that I could trust him, but so far he had yet to prove to me that it was the case.

I desperately needed him to prove that I could lean on him and have him do whatever it took to keep me out of harm’s way. I needed him to start backing up his shit, because no matter how much I wanted to hold this stuff against him, and throw in his face that he’d left me to get hurt once again, I wanted him. My body knew it, my heart knew it, but my head was having a hard time keeping up with the play and making excuses left, right and center about why I couldn’t be with him.

“She good?” Kit asked, finally returning just as Del had finished wrapping my shoulder.

Del nodded. “Don’t get it wet. Try not to move it as much as possible. Coupla days rest and you should be okay.” She patted my arm in a very motherly gesture. “We’ll catch up soon, hun.”

Kit wrapped an arm around her as she moved to leave, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thanks, Del.” He shut the door behind her and dropped himself into the space she had just vacated. He wiped a hand down his face and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his spread knees.

“I’m sorry.”

I shifted, trying to get comfortable. “For what?”

He turned his head to look at me and nodded toward my now padded shoulder. “For that.”

“Did you shoot me?” I asked, throwing his words back at him from when we’d fought straight after it happened.

“I may as well have. I didn’t stop it, did I?”

Guilt buried itself in my stomach. I could see in his eyes how much it hurt him to know that he wasn’t there for me when I needed him the most.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered, not believing the words had come out of my mouth even though I had spent that last twenty-four hours complaining about him not protecting me. Was I being unrealistic? Was I looking for some sort of reason to hate him for claiming me? For taking me when I thought I didn’t want it.

“Do you know why I want you so badly?”

The question threw me, but I answered honestly. “No.”

“I love my family. My mom was the most amazing mom and Old Lady you could imagine. She stood by my dad through thick and thin, she would never leave his side. And my dad? Well, he loved me, he cared for me, and he would’ve supported me with anything I wanted to do. Even if it meant not joining the club he had worked so hard to create.”

I listened to him talk animatedly about his parents, their love for each other, their love for the club and their love for him.

“Their relationship worked because my Mom was strong. She was hard-headed, opinionated, and loyal. But she knew when to have faith in my dad. She knew he made the rules and she knew he made those rules to keep the people he cared about safe. It takes a strong woman to stand next to her man and offer him her strength, knowing full well that her man’s word is law. She might have an opinion about it. She might even hate some of the decisions he has to make. But in the end, she will still stand there next to him and trust in him to do what is best for his family – club family, his wife and children.”

I stared at him in awe, not sure what to say.

“I see that in you, Harm.” He lifted his hand and cupped my cheek. “I knew from the moment I saw you that you had a strength that could rival that of a lion.”

I leaned into his hand, enjoying his tender touch.

“I see you speak your opinion, but you always have respect for the club and its rules.”

“I don’t understand…” I whispered, moving a little closer to him, knowing that he was baring himself to me and wanting more, needing more.

“I don’t want a woman that’s going to sit by idly and let me walk right over her. I want a woman who can stand next to me and offer me her strength and her support, even when I might fuck things up.” He sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. I could tell this was a struggle for him, bikers weren’t well known for expressing their feelings or letting their guard down.

“We moved a lot when I was young, traveling all over the place with different bands.” I looked down at my hands. I didn’t talk much to people about what I’d gone through as a kid, but I felt like he’d shared a part of him with me so I needed to share a part of me too.

His eyes caught mine and he stared intently, waiting for me to continue.

“I’m not sure who my dad is. I’m not even sure my mom knows who he is. But that was never an issue, I had plenty of substitutes.”

“Substitutes?”

I smiled. “The members of the bands we traveled with were mostly okay. Having a kid on tour wasn’t exactly ideal, but secretly I think they loved it. What was rough though was watching them leave.” I swallowed harshly. “Getting to know someone, looking up at them like they were a parent like they were your family, and then watching them walk away to their new venture without even a backward glance at you. It hurt.”

Kit nodded and I could see in his face that he was beginning to understand me. “You got used to it, huh.”

“I did. Some of the guys my mom got involved with, they would treat me like I was theirs. They taught me how to play guitar, what music to listen to, took me out places. Then after everything was done, so were they,” I said with a shrug. It no longer bugged me like it did back then. I’d watched my mother get attached over and over again, crying and bawling when things ended abruptly. The first few times I had cried with her. Wondering why they had been so nice to me if they were only going to leave us? But then I became numb to it. Knowing it was only going to happen again in a month or two.

“Harmony, you know the club, you understand what we are about. We don’t throw the words
claim
and
Old Lady
around like they are nothing. This isn’t something I’ve done just for fun. I’ve done it because I want you by my side. Not just until I get bored, but forever,” he explained, hooking his hand around my neck and squeezing gently.

“I’m starting to understand that. But it’s not something I can just change. Disconnection is what I’ve taught myself to keep my heart safe.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world, baby.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, they were soft and moved slowly, coaxing my lips open and delving inside to taste me. His hands gripped my hips and wound their way up to my waist. Kit worked my body like I was a puzzle. He was piecing me together, bit by bit, touch by touch, word by word.

I reveled in the moment. My body wanting to feel him, but my head reminding me that in the end, he would leave, just like all the others.

And I would fall to pieces all over again.

I sat on the edge of the bed with my guitar resting on my knee. Kit had demanded I kept my arm in the sling, muttering something about tearing my stitches out. I complied, having lost any type of energy I had to argue with him.

Even after our conversation where we had laid everything out there, as soon as he was gone I started second guessing myself and my decisions. Like every normal person, when I’m alone I started over-thinking things, going over possible but ridiculous scenarios in my head. This only made me angry and frustrated, and a little bit crazy too. Usually, I would pick up my guitar and play. I could do it for hours, just play and let the music take me to somewhere else. But that seemed to prove harder with a bullet hole in my shoulder.

I tried to maneuver my bad arm over the top of my guitar, trying to find a way to situate it so I could strum. My shoulder burned, but the need to play overwhelmed anything else and my fingers itched to pluck the strings. Finally finding a place that felt even slightly comfortable, I found the frets with my other hand and moved my fingers to a chord.

Avicii’s ‘Wake Me Up’ wasn’t too complicated, so I started with that.

Strumming down the strings I felt a sharp sting in my shoulder, I ignored it and continued to play slowly. I only made it through eight or so bars before the pain became unbearable and tears began to trickle from my eyes.

“Stupid! So stupid!” I gripped the neck of the guitar and threw it across the room. It hit Kit’s desk with a loud bang and crashed to the floor, papers and other crap scattering around. I squeezed my eyes tightly together, willing the tears to stop unsuccessfully as I slid to the floor.

Music had been my outlet for as long as I could remember. When I was happy, I played. When I was angry, I played. When I was sad, or frustrated, or completely and utterly over the world, I fucking played. My guitar and music had gotten me through break-ups and break-downs and now, well now, I didn’t even have that.

I let out a frustrated growl and held my head in my hand. I don’t know how long I sat like that, but soon the door swung open. I didn’t even bother to look up and see who it was. I knew it was him. He didn’t say anything as he shut the door quietly behind him and walked over to his now messed up desk and picked up my guitar off the floor.

I cradled my arm close to my body. It was obvious how much of an idiot I’d been, trying to play with a bullet wound in my shoulder, as it was now throbbing in protest of my stupidity.

“It’s still in one piece,” he said.

I snorted. “I don’t care, it’s not like I can play the damn thing.”

“That what this temper tantrum is about?”

I looked up sharply, finally taking a look at him. He was shirtless, his cut slipped on over his naked torso and his white T-shirt tucked into the side of his pants. The sight of him made my body tingle, his well-defined abs glistening with sweat and stained with a few smudges of dirt. He had mentioned something this morning about going to help the boys in the scrap yard down the road, another business they partly owned. A small trail of dark hair led from his belly button down and disappeared under his low hanging jeans. I wanted to trace it with my fingers, knowing I would find a prize at the end. I shook my head, trying to snap out of my lust-filled mind.

“You wouldn’t understand,” I said sternly, standing up and proceeding to pick up the few papers and knick-knacks from the floor, which had flown off the desk during said temper tantrum.

“Maybe if you’d talk to me for a fucking minute instead of sitting here sulking all damn day then I could try to understand,” he shot back.

I hit him with narrowed eyes. “Fine, you want to know? I am here. Away from my friends, away from the people I know. On my own, with a fucking useless arm that only serves to remind me that I got shot. And I got shot because some men were trying to kidnap me.” I took a deep breath, attempting to calm myself. “Music is my
life
, Kit. You may not get that, but without it, I don’t know how else to get through this shit.”

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

I rolled my eyes. “Sex? Really? That’s your solution?”

He glared but moved and sat down on the edge of the bed, my guitar still in his hand. He scooted back a little, leaving a small space between his legs. “Sit your fucking ass down right here, before I spank it, bullet wound or not.”

I stared at him for a moment, feeling defiance burn in my veins like I’d never had before.

“
Harmony!
”

I jumped, his sharp tone leaving no room for anything, especially not the word no. I stomped over and dropped into the small space between his outstretched legs. The heat of his naked chest burned against my thin singlet top, sending warmth spreading throughout my body, especially between my legs.

Kit swung the guitar up, settling it on my knee and moving my good arm back to the frets where they were before.

“What are you doing?” I said quietly, confused by his actions.

“We are going to play the fucking guitar. If that’s all it takes to get you out of this mood, I’ll give it a damn go.” He reached around me, his arm cautious to avoid putting pressure on my shoulder and his other arm wrapped around my waist, holding my body tightly against his. “You’re on chords, tell me when to strum or whatever it’s called.”

I sat in silence for a minute, not believing that he was actually doing this.
I was stunned.

“Okay, it’s a 1-2-3-4 beat. That’s all you need to do.”

“Okay.” He sat his chin on my good shoulder, peeking over so he could semi-see what he was doing. His hot breath tickled my neck and his body cocooned me causing my heart to flutter.

I called out the count and he strummed with me. My body slowly relaxed against him, and I even found a smile began to form.

“Okay, I’ve got it. I want to hear you sing now,” his voice was soft and soothing in my ear. I didn’t take another second to question his request.

Avicii’s ‘Wake Me Up’ flowed from my lips, the melody and the lyrics soothing my soul.

Kit’s free hand slipped under the hem of my top and rested gently on my stomach. He rubbed his thumb up and down, in time with the beat and it sent shivers through my body.

The intimacy of the situation was not lost on me. The sexy naked chest man at my back made sure I was well aware of how close we were at this moment. His mouth had now found my exposed neck. His lips and tongue exploring it softly as his hand moved further up my stomach and his fingers began to dance across the bottom of my bra, as though they were searching for a way in. All the time both our hands continued to play, both in time and completely in tune with one another, much like our bodies.

I couldn’t handle one more minute. Her voice was so soft, so melodic. It drove me crazy. Apparently we were more in tune than I thought as she suddenly pulled the guitar away and dropped it gently onto the floor. No doubt, a lot softer than she had moments before I’d come in.

She stood and turned to face me. I didn’t even have a chance to miss my touch on her body before she was pressed up against me and her lips had found mine. Our mouths danced together, a perfect rhythm like we could still hear the music echoing in the room. I gripped both of her tight ass cheeks and lifted her. Her knees automatically bent and she straddled my thighs.

I pulled her closer but winced when I heard a small whimper of pain escape her lips and quickly disconnected our mouths. “Baby, we can’t. I’m gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t care.” She moved in again, her lips finding my jawline and leaving a hot trail along it and continuing down my neck. “Please, Kit.”

My self-control was slim at the best of times when it came to Harmony, but right at that moment with her pleading for me to take her, restraint went out the fucking window.

I held one hand between her shoulder blades and the other gripped her ass as I rolled, laying her on her back. Her eyes were hooded as she stared up at me. I could see the need in them, no doubt reflecting the emotion showed by my own. I braced myself with my hands on either side of her shoulders. Her chest rose and fell softly catching my eye and causing my gaze to travel down her body.

“Kit, please,” she repeated, lifting her hips so they lightly brushed against my own.

A smirk crossed my mouth, the pleasure in hearing her pleas for me to take her just too much to try and hide. I ground my hips against the light fabric of her shorts. Her mouth fell open and she sucked in a sharp breath of air.

“This what you’re asking for, Harmony? You want my cock?” She nodded, but it wasn’t enough for me. I pushed hard against her. “Give me the words, baby.”

Her hand reached out, her fingers finding my strong, ripped stomach. But those gorgeous hazel eyes, they never deviated for a second from mine.

“I want you, Kit. I want you to fuck me. Is that what you need to hear?” The sarcastic tone of her voice only made me harder. I sat back on my knees and stared down at her. Her hair was splayed all around her head, a beautiful fucking halo of blonde. My fingers drifted down her thigh, it was so damn smooth and felt like heaven against my rough calloused hands. I found my way inside the hem of her soft cotton shorts and through the lacy barrier of her underwear. A soft silky pussy waited for me, her outer lips already covered in moisture.

“You sassing me, baby?” I saw a tiny shudder move through her body as I swiped my finger through the wetness, flicking her clit gently at the end of the sweep.

“Maybe,” she whispered, so quietly I almost missed it. But the room was silent, no sounds but heavy breathing and racing minds. She couldn’t hide anything from me here. I could see into her eyes, see into her soul. I knew what she wanted, but I was sick and tired of playing games.

I wanted to hear her tell me that she needed me – beg me to take her. I needed to see the ecstasy on her face as I made her cum and feel her body draw me in as she convulsed with pleasure.

“Tell me who you belong to,” I demanded as my fingers once again drifted through her wet folds.

I didn’t expect the breathy, “No,” that fell from her lips.

My eyes widened and I felt a slim sheet of anger cover me. I pushed two thick fingers into her pussy with one thrust. Harmony moaned loudly, grinding against my hand. Her good hand flew to her breast and she began to kneed it and pull at her nipple.
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