Ghost (Satan’s Fury MC: Little Rock #3)

13. Ghost

Ghost

I hadn’t meant to kiss her—not like that, but when she inched up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine, I lost it. All my restraint broke, and I couldn’t resist her a second longer. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. I knew it was too soon, but I couldn’t stop myself. It felt too good to have her in my arms again.

I needed to feel her body next to mine, so I slipped my hand around her waist and pulled her closer. She gasped, opening her mouth long enough for me to delve deeper, to relish every single detail of her mouth.

Her taste.

Her scent.

The way her tongue tangled with mine. I wanted to stay right there in that moment—just the two of us, where nothing else mattered. But I couldn’t. It was clear that she was still dealing with some shit. Every bump or loud noise would have her jumping out of her skin, and I got it. She had been to hell and back with that crazy ex of hers, and it was going to take some time to move past it.

So, I told her, “This isn’t a good idea. It’s too soon.”

“But...”

“It’s too soon. End of discussion.”

She stepped back and crossed her arms as she snapped, “Not up for discussion? And why is that?”

“Nothing you have to say is going to change my mind.” I kept my tone calm and steady as I added, “You need time.”

Frustration flashed through her eyes as she insisted, “I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t.”

She wasn’t happy that I’d put her off. I wasn’t exactly happy about it either. She had to know that I wanted her. Hell, I wanted her more than I thought possible, but I wanted to do right by her. I reached over and placed my hand under her chin, forcing her to look at me as I said, “We got something good here. I know it. You know it. And I’m not going to mess it up by rushing things.”

“It’s been months, Sutton. That’s far from rushing.”

“And it might be months more, or it could be a couple of weeks or a day. Only time will tell, but I can promise you this. I will have you, and when I do...” I ran my thumb across her bottom lip as I told her, “I’ll make it worth the wait.”

She held my gaze like she was trying to figure out her next move. After several moments, her eyes drifted to the ground, and she started down the hall. “Goodnight, Sutton.”

“Night, Cricket.”

I waited until she’d disappeared into her room, then turned and headed down the hall. I went into my room and quickly shut the door behind me. I tugged my shirt off and tossed it onto the chair in the corner, then kicked off my boots and stripped down to my boxers. I crawled into bed, and the second my head hit the pillow, my mind drifted straight to that damn kiss.

I tossed and turned, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way her lips felt against mine. Soft, warm, familiar in a way I didn’t want to admit. And then that look—the one she gave me after I pulled away. Like I’d hurt her, and that was the last fucking thing I wanted to do.

I rubbed a hand over my face and let out a frustrated groan.

I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes, trying to force the image of her out of my mind. It took some time, but I eventually drifted off to sleep. The next morning, I was up early, and after spending a couple of hours working on Rusty’s bike, I finally managed to get the damn thing started.

I figured Cricket and I could use a little distance, so I called Zeke to come to keep an eye on her and Toby and headed to the clubhouse. I still had a few hours before my shift at the Vault, so I decided I would check in and see if there had been any new developments with Carmine or Cricket’s ex.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I spotted Prez at the back door with Kay, and from the looks of it, they were having one of their heated debates. I tried to pay them no mind as I parked and got off my bike, but as I started inside, I couldn’t help but hear Prez say, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?”

“I’ve got a club to run, Kay. I don’t have time for this.”

“Of course. It’s always the club. That’s the only thing that really matters to you.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

I opened the back door, and just before I stepped inside, Kay snapped, “Then, prove it.”

While I was curious to hear his response, I knew Prez wouldn’t want me eavesdropping, so I continued inside and went to track down Shep. I started at his office, and when he wasn’t there, I stopped by the kitchen and found him talking to Memphis and Grim. As I walked over, Shep looked up and said, “Hey, brother. I was hoping you’d be by today.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You know I’ve been keeping an eye on Whitney’s ex.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s gotten himself into quite a mess.” Shep leaned back against the counter as he continued, “Seems that he roughed up the wrong guy, and good old dad isn’t gonna be able to get him out of it.”

“Who was it?”

“Daniel Thornton—a big wig politician with a family name that is known throughout the state. Hell, they’ve even got pull at the White House.”

“So, he’s about to get his.”

“I don’t know. He’s gotten out of some pretty heavy shit, but this one has hit the papers and will be harder to wiggle out of. Either way, he should be distracted for a while.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Everyone fell silent when Prez charged into the room with a scowl on his face. He didn’t say a word as he went over to the fridge and opened the door. He looked inside for a moment, then slammed it shut. “I need a fucking drink.”

Bridget motioned her hand towards the pantry. “There’s some juice in the...”

“I don’t want fucking juice,” Prez growled.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She lowered her head and scurried out of the room like a wounded kid. Prez’s shoulders dropped, and he shook his head. “Dammit.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it,” I told him. “She’ll be fine.”

“It’s barely ten, and it’s already been a hell of a morning.” He stepped over to the counter and poured himself a tall cup of coffee before saying, “Got a call from Viper last night.”

“Oh, yeah?” Shep asked, sounding intrigued. “What’s up with him?”

“He told me about a new product they want us to try out.” When Prez saw his son’s expression, he quickly added, “It’s shrooms, and before you say anything, it’s supposed to be some really good shit. Apparently, their girl has been doing some research and playing around with whatever she does. It’s supposed to be an all-new kind of high.”

“But shrooms are some tricky stuff.”

“I know, but she’s worked out some of the negative stuff.” Prez took a sip of his coffee. “We won’t know how good it really is until we try it for ourselves, but this shit sounds like the real deal.”

“But we’re doing good with what we got. Why would we fuck with shrooms?” Memphis asked, sounding annoyed.

Before Prez could answer, the side door flew open, and Antonia came barreling in and there was clearly something wrong. Her face was streaked with tears, and her hands were trembling as she clutched the front of her shirt. Her eyes darted around the room until they landed on Memphis. Her voice cracked as she called out, “Weston!”

Everything in the room froze.

We all watched in silence as she rushed across the room. Memphis shot to his feet, and concern marked his face as he caught her in his arms. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just tell me what’s going on.”

She didn’t respond.

She just buried her face in his chest and sobbed. He gave her a moment, then gave her a push. "Antonia, talk to me. What the hell’s going on?"

“It’s Dad.” She was still crying as she muttered, “He’s giving himself up.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“He didn’t want us to be in danger anymore.” Antonia glanced up at Memphis as she added, “So, he’s giving himself up to the cartel.”

The weight of her words hit the room like a sledgehammer. Goose and Preacher exchanged a sharp look, and I felt my gut tighten. Memphis clenched his jaw as he asked, "What do you mean, giving himself up?"

"He said he couldn’t stand by and let them hurt us without trying to do something.” Her tears continued to fall as she told him, “He thinks if he turns himself over, they’ll leave us alone, and we won’t have to worry anymore.”

“Damn.”

“What’s going to happen?” she cried. “Do you think they’ll hurt him?”

I could feel the fear and desperation in her voice. She was hoping Memphis would give her some kind of reassurance that her father would get through this, but he couldn’t give her that. He knew the cartel wasn’t known for leaving loose ends, and her father was one hell of a loose end.

So, he did the only thing he could. He held her close and whispered, “It’s going to be okay, baby.”

“Do you mean that?”

Preacher stepped forward, and his voice was calm but firm as he asked, "Antonia, did he give you any idea of where he might’ve gone?"

“No.” She shook her head frantically. "He just said he had to do this, and he’d reach out when he could. I told him not to go, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Damn.” Goose cursed under his breath. "This shit ain’t good.”

Memphis shot him a look, but we all knew he was right. Her father had just made a suicide move. There was no way the cartel was gonna let him walk away from this. And even if they did, there would be hell to pay.

As usual, Prez remained calm and collected. He showed no real emotion as he told Grim, “Gather the others and meet me in the conference room.”

He nodded, and half an hour later, we were sitting at the conference table, hashing out all the possible resolutions to the situation with Carmine. It was fucked up. There was no doubt about that, but in the end, there was little we could do. Carmine had cut off communication with his handler, and his phone was no longer working.

We had no way to reach him, and without any further information, there was only one thing we could do—wait. It wasn’t something any of us were very good at, but we didn’t have a choice. Prez sounded frustrated as he said, “We will continue to monitor the situation, and if we hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

Preacher dismissed everyone, and while Shephard and Grim went to do their thing, I headed over to do my shift at the Vault with Goose and Rusty. None of us were in the best of moods, so we didn’t take shit off anyone. If someone started shit, they were out—no excuses, which made for a fairly easy night.

Regardless, I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and was exhausted by the time I headed home. I just wanted to get inside and crash, so I was thankful when I pulled up and found Zeke waiting for me on the back porch. With his all-black clothing and tattoos, he looked like one of those goth teens always looking for attention. That wasn’t the case with him. He was a good kid with a good head on his shoulders, and all the brothers thought a lot of him.

As soon as I got off my bike, he walked up and said, “Hey, brother. How’d it go tonight?”

“Not bad. What about here?”

“Good.” Zeke started down the steps as he said, “The kid had his tutoring, and Cricket looked into a couple of jobs she was interested in.”

“She have any luck?”

“Can’t say for sure.” He shrugged. “But she seems set on finding something.”

“She’s just gotta be patient. The right thing will come along.”

“That’s right.” Zeke kicked his leg over his seat and started the engine. “I’ll be around tomorrow if you need me.”

“Appreciate it.”

I waited until he’d pulled out of the drive before heading up to the door. I could feel the tension in my shoulders starting to ease as I turned the knob and stepped inside. I’d just closed the door behind me when I spotted Cricket standing at the counter, and the sight of her nearly knocked me off my feet. She was wearing an old T-shirt that barely covered her thighs and a pair of white socks.

That was it.

She was rummaging through the pantry and completely oblivious to the fact that she had me pinned where I stood. “Hey. How was work?”

“It was alright.” Damn, she looked good. Too good. “How about things here? You guys have a good night?”

“Yeah. It was okay.” She tore open a bag of chips and popped one in her mouth. “It was kind of quiet.”

She was completely oblivious that I was gawking at her.

I tried to tear my eyes away, but that damn T-shirt was taunting me. Every time she moved, it would shift a little higher, exposing a hint of her pink lace underwear. I had to keep my dick in check, especially after the night before. But it wasn’t easy.

It was late and I was tired.

And hell, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

After a few more chips, she turned to face me, and her lips curled into a sexy smile when she saw the expression on my face. I knew then she could see it—the battle I was waging inside myself, and I feared it might make her uneasy.

As I stood there looking at that spark in her eyes, I realized that she wasn’t feeling uneasy. Hell, she was feeling anything but, and while I cleared my throat and tried to act unbothered, I said, “You’re up late.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Something wrong?”

“No. Just thinking about things.”

Her eyes skirted over me, letting me know exactly what she’d been thinking about. “Is that right?”

“Yep.”

Her smile widened. She was enjoying this—taunting me, pushing me just enough to see how far she could go before I cracked. It was out of character for her—or so I thought. It could’ve been that usually timid and reserved Cricket had another side to her, and this was my first time seeing it. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

“You’re feeling yourself tonight, huh?”

“Hard not to when you’re looking at me like that.”

With chips still in hand, she stepped closer, and it was all I could do to keep myself from reaching for her and pulling her into my arms. Her eyes remained trained on mine as she stepped past me and said, “Goodnight, Sutton.”

And just like that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the kitchen like she hadn’t just lit a damn fire inside me. I inhaled a few deep breaths, hoping it would help to get my dick in check, but I knew there was only one thing that could do that—a cold shower.

I went straight to the bathroom and got undressed. I turned on the water, and without waiting for it to warm, I stepped inside, letting the frigid water cascade down my head and shoulders. I’d barely closed my eyes when she came crashing through my thoughts.

Everything about Cricket, from her sheer will and determination to her beautiful brown eyes and warm smile, had me going crazy in a way I never had before. I closed my eyes, and I was instantly bombarded with images of her in that fucking t-shirt. First, it was those long, lean legs and the slight hint of those fucking pink panties, and then, it was the silhouette of her perfect, bare breasts.

The next thing I knew, I was thinking about that damn kiss—her lips and all the little whimpers and moans and how good she felt in my arms. Damn. It felt like I was coming apart at the seams. I needed to get her out of my system, and I needed to do it fast. Hoping it would knock the edge off, I turned the water to hot and took my throbbing dick in my hand, gripping my fingers tightly around my pulsing shaft.

I needed to feel the bite as I started to move my hand up and down my thick cock. I closed my eyes and pictured her in my bed. I could almost feel her soft, smooth skin as my fingertips trailed across her perfect, round breast. My breath quickened as I thought about her writhing against the soft cotton sheets as I touched her.

Her skin blushing.

Her thighs clenching.

Her little whimpers echoing through the room.

With each vision, my hand moved faster, gripped tighter, and every stroke had me closer to the edge. My dick pulsed in my hand when I imagined the expression on her face as I raked my tongue against her clit, tasting her, tormenting her until the moment when her orgasm took hold. I could almost hear her calling out my name.

Fuck. That’s all it took. My breath caught, and I came long and hard. Moments later, I stepped out of the shower with my dick still standing at full salute. Damn. I was so fucking screwed.