Read Protect Online

Authors: C. D. Breadner

Tags: #motorcycle club, #mc, #freak circle press, #mc fiction, #red rebels

Protect (45 page)

He laughed and pushed to his feet. “Okay,
five-oh.”

“Not funny,” she called after him. Across
from her, her mother was smiling at her while Buck and Gertie
fussed over Davie.

At her look her mother got to her feet and
took the place Jayce had just left, sighing and giving the room a
curious scan. “We’re surrounded by criminals, aren’t we?” she
asked, dismay obvious. Her quiet tone made Sharon giggle.

“Yeah Mom. Can’t you tell just by
looking?”

Tank and Rose returned from the grill, Tank
holding a huge plate of flambéed meat. Rose was carrying a bowl of
foil wrapped potatoes. Before they parted to set their loads on
opposite sides of the buffet table they paused to kiss. Spaz gave
Brayden a high-five after he sank a shot, and Fritter toasted him
with his beer bottle for making it. Tiny ruffled his hair, one of
the few in the room large enough to make Brayden look like a
child.

And Buck took Davie from Gertie, resting him
on his chest with his little knitted-capped head resting under his
chin. Gertie got to her feet and bent down to kiss her husband
before heading for the restrooms. Her brother brought a cry of
outrage from Knuckles, something to do with Suzuki being made for
closet homosexuals. Even her father looked comically ashamed for
his son’s love of crotch rocket street bikes. Scott still had the
Harley they’d originally built, but he liked to go really fast
now.

“If it wasn’t for those vests they’re
wearing, I’d never guess,” her mother slowly replied.

Sharon didn’t correct her mother on the
correct term for leather
kuttes
, she just took a sip of her
iced green tea.

“He kept us out of your room at the hospital.
The doctors said you needed your rest, and he thought we’d bother
your sleep. It was a little scary.”

Sharon looked to her ... boyfriend? Lover?
Man
? He caught her glance and gave her a wink with that
smile that only handsome men seemed to have. She smiled back.

“He’ll take care of me. I know he will.”

“I don’t know, Sharon. Your job, your
livelihood. What’s he given up to be with you?”

Sharon shook her head. “It’s not about
keeping score over who’s the bigger martyr. I was lonely, Mom. And
I know being with someone isn’t the point of living, but ... he
makes me happy that I’m living. Without knowing it, I was looking
for someone to smash in the walls of whatever the fuck I was living
in.”

Her mother nodded, not even shocked by the
cuss word.

“I like helping people. That’s why I liked my
job. But plenty of people
help
people without being in law
enforcement.”

“But your schooling—”

“Set me up for a good career,” she cut in,
nodding. “Sure. It got me here. But a change could be good, too.
And Markham is home, Mom. You know that.”

Her mother put an arm around her shoulders.
“I’ll always be proud of you, Sharon.”

Her throat closed up and she blinked to not
cry. “Even knocked up at forty-four and unmarried?”

“Yes,” was the simple answer.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

 

It was barely light out when Fritter woke
her. He could have let her sleep another half hour, but ...

“What are you doing?” she asked as he got out
the opposite side of the bed in his dorm.

“It’s today, baby. We gotta get going.”

She sat up. “This early?”

“Nah, the meeting’s at 8am. They want to
fortify the clubhouse around 6.”

She looked at the clock, still sleepy and
cute. “Mark, it’s 4:30 in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

“Why am I up at 4:30?”

“Because I want to fuck you in the shower
before I go.”

Watching her go from sleepy and annoyed to
turned on made him chuckle. “Oh.”

He walked into the bathroom, flicking on the
light and getting the water running. She followed, wearing his
T-shirt and looking a bit uncertain. “Are we going to talk about
this?” she asked, fingers playing with the shirt’s hem.

“Nope,” he replied, taking that hem from her
and tugging the shirt up over her head and off.

“But—”

He cut her off with his mouth, and it was a
split second before her arms went around his neck. They’d been
staying in the clubhouse dorms for just under a week, and he was
more than pleased that she was as comfortable here as she was in
her home. Her own place was still taped off, the bedroom torched
and the rest of it a crime scene.

He turned so that she could step over the
edge of the tub. Once they were both enclosed behind the shower
curtain Fritter cranked the showerhead on, taking the first shot of
cold to his back. He hissed, but it did nothing to kill his
erection.

That might have been because Sharon had it in
her hand, pressing her breasts into his chest and going up on her
toes to kiss him.

One hand closed in her hair at the back of
her head, the other clutched at one amazing ass cheek, pulling her
entire body against his. Her grip tightened on his cock, and even
though she had to stop stroking it he groaned. Her mouth
surrendered to his, allowing his tongue to plunder while giving
long, tender strokes. Then she backed off, and with slow motions
she went down to her knees, hands dragging down his chest and
abdomen.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice husky.
The sight of her staring up at him, his cock jutting out, held
tight in one of her hands, breast peaked outward—it made talking
difficult.

“I think you know.”

“Are you sure you can do that? With your
jaw?”

The first touch of her tongue made him clench
his teeth. She went right for the sensitive notch under the head,
giving it far more attention than he deserved. Then she pulled him
into her mouth, perfect suction making his hips jerk. His hands
went to her hair, and he fought not to slam into her mouth. But
holy fuck that felt good.

So much for worry about her jaw.

Her hand was wrapped around his base,
preventing him from thrusting too deep. But she let him move her
head a little, using her hair with both hands.

“Fuck, Sharon, Fuck.”

She gave a little moan.

“I’m going to finish if you don’t stop.”

She paid him no notice. When he was at the
end of his control he pulled free, and she looked up at him in
surprise. On a growl he pulled her up by the arms, turned her back
to him and wrapped her in his arms. One hand pulled at one of her
perfect, hard nipples, and the other slid over hot, slick skin to a
warmer place between her legs.

“Fritter!”

“Right here, baby.”

“Oh, God. Don’t stop.”

He smiled, face to the side of her neck,
kissing and sucking and nipping at her. “Baby, you feel how wet you
are?”

She shuddered as an answer.

“No way I’m stopping.’” His cock was resting
against her ass cheek, and he knew he was shoving at her a little.
A gentle push of his hips that she leaned back into, her head going
all the way back to his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

She pushed back against him again, the motion
moving her on his hand, too. With one hand she reached behind
herself, fitting her hand around him, thumb playing over his head
as she rocked against his body and he fucked her with two fingers.
But if this was to be the last time—

Nope. Not going there, but he did want to
taste her. Especially if this was going to be it. He pulled his
hand free and smiled at the protesting grunt she gave, until she
realized he was sinking to his knees. Both hands went to her
stomach, and though he honestly didn’t think she looked different
she certainly
felt
different there. She said some of her
pants wouldn’t do up anymore, and the thought that his baby was in
there was absolutely amazing. He kissed the skin under her belly
button and she threaded her fingers through his hair, smiling down
when he cast his eyes up at her. Jesus, she was gorgeous. He needed
to memorize her.

With knees braced a stable distance apart,
Fritter pulled one of her legs over his shoulder, squeezing at the
muscle of her thigh as he dove in with his tongue. One hand went up
to her breast, teasing her nipple, and her hands tightened in his
hair to hold him close.

With just his teeth, tongue and lips he
earned a soft squeak that still managed to echo off the shower
walls. With control that impressed even him, Fritter rose to move
the shower curtain out of the way and reached for a condom from the
toilet tank. It was the end of a strip he’d left out the night
before. They’d had a little fun on the bathroom vanity.

With her arms and legs wrapped around him,
one hand bracing himself against the shower wall, he made love to
her slow and easy, mouth on hers the whole time. It was still such
a treat that she let him kiss her.

More than the fact that he always woke up
hard next to her, this was absolutely necessary given what the day
was bringing. He told himself he’d be back, he’d have her back in
his arms and on his cock again that night, but there were no
guarantees. The meet with the Dirty Rats was going down later that
morning, and they were an unpredictable bunch of assholes.

So right now she needed to know how he felt,
even if he couldn’t say it. He had to show her that he was, indeed,
falling in love with her. Because what else could this possibly be?
He wouldn’t say it; he knew she wouldn’t want to hear that yet. But
he could show her that this was real, he meant what he said when he
told her he cared and that he’d be there for her and the baby. Only
extreme circumstances would prevent that.

When she was cresting her head fell back to
the shower wall, teeth deep in her lower lip. He kept his eyes on
hers, feeling the urgency of each push of her hips against his. He
was buried deep but he ground into her to find more, and she flew
apart with an arched back, mouth open but silent, until that squeak
came again and she trembled all around him.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Fritter,” she gasped, head falling forward
to his shoulder.

“I don’t know if I can do that again. You got
me too worked up.”

She was smiling when she pulled back, her
heels jolting into his ass one time. “Try anyway.”

Gentleness would take too long. With a grunt
he thrust into her, making her hiss and bury her face into the side
of his neck. Then she just held on as he pushed his way into her
over and over, roughly, fast with no real rhythm, just
concentrating on the way she gasped and whimpered and dug her teeth
into his shoulder.

That did it, right there. She was coming hard
after all, and he tumbled over the edge with her, the root of him
grinding into her clit, making her jump in his hold and throw her
head back. No squeak, not this time. He got a completely off-guard
cry, one that made him wonder if he’d hurt her. But when she opened
her eyes her face was soft, fuck-drunk, and she smiled just a
little.

“I guess I
could
do that again,” he
panted, heart ramming in his rib cage.

“Let me down,” she whispered. “This can’t be
good for your back.”

Fritter smiled, ducked low to pull free then
held her hips while her feet found the floor of the tub again. She
slid to the side a bit and he caught her, chuckling. “You alright,
baby?”

She swatted his chest lightly. “I’m fine.
Just woke up is all.”

With another laugh he got rid of the condom,
tossed it towards the trash can in the bathroom then joined her
back in the warm confines of the shower. He took great care soaping
her up, especially her growing tits, rubbing circles on her belly,
and massaging her ass cheeks for good measure, too. He was worried
she carried her tension in her ass.

That just made her laugh, and she took the
same care washing him. Her hands were a soft touch over his chest,
fingers tracing his ink, until they stopped on a line he’d had done
just below his left pec. It was a line he’d always liked.

“Rage, rage, rage against the light,” she
whispered, looking up to him again. “I love that poem.”

He smiled, cupping her face in his hands. “Me
too, baby. That’s why you’re reading it off my skin.”

Her face changed, and he didn’t know the
expression. “Don’t get hurt. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He swallowed, but nodded. “You got it.”

“Come back.”

“Always.”

Her nails dug into his sides. “I mean it. I
just decided I want a life with you.”

His thumb ran back and forth on her cheek.
“It’d take all of hell to keep me away, baby.”

Only death would yank him away from her.
That’s what he meant, and the problem was death could be waiting
for him that morning.
Or
he could croak getting hit by a bus
in fifteen years. So could
she
. No one knew when their time
was. Didn’t mean he was going to let her go.

“I need you to be careful too,” he reminded
her. “No heroics. Just take care of you and our son.”

Her lips twitched. “It could be a girl, you
know.”

“Nope. I know it’s a boy.”

“Is that right?”

“So keep your head up,” he went on, smile
slipping. “You’re not the newcomer to this group. Gertie and Rose
need you to look out for them.”

She nodded. “I will.”

When Jayce told him he wanted Sharon armed at
the clubhouse while the meet went down Fritter maybe should have
argued. She was pregnant, for fuck’s sake. But the more he thought
about it the more he knew his Prez was right. She needed to be of
help, providing a service. And with half the Nomads on the
clubhouse there was a lot of protection for the old ladies. But no
way would Sharon sit back and wait, feeling safe knowing all those
men were out there.

No, she’d demand a gun and wouldn’t budge on
that stance until she got one. And he couldn’t bring himself to
lock her away like the good silver. She was a fighter. He wouldn’t
dream of caging her.

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