Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

Red

I’m amazed at how much we’re gettin’ done. No way we’re gonna get to the deck today, but Rider said he’ll come over tomorrow and the two of us can tackle it.

Not everyone is here. Mothman’s hunkered down with Joker and Hangman talking about the shooting and how to handle it. Zero is manning the gates and Stark is gettin’ the chamber ready for the feds. Jawbone, Fender, King, and Blood made excuses.

That leaves Rocky, Trigger, Eight, Reaper, Hash, Coyote, Rider and me to do the heavy lifting. These are my friends and brothers and the thought of leaving the Jury has me wavering. If I do, the Jury will shun me and that’s gonna hurt.

The guys are razzing Coyote about getting dirt under his fingernails when Stella pokes her head out the sliding doors. “Dinner’s ready if you’re interested.” She’s not looking at anyone but me, though I haven’t had the impression that she’s nervous around the guys. Lexie and Selma are sure as hell not.

“Yeah!” Trigger says as he tosses the shovel he was using onto the ground and heads to the board leading up to the doors. The deck is long gone.

“Put your shirt on first,” Stella says and I hear the echo of Sherri in her voice.

Trigger yanks on his T-shirt and grins at Stella. “Your wish is my command, babe.”

Fucker. I’m gonna have to kill him.

I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I enter the house and get a sniff of chili. It smells amazing.

“Chairs,” Selma says as if it weren’t obvious. “Bowls, buns, napkins, cutlery. Dish up.” To Lexie she says, “Get some beers.”

I grin as I meet Stella’s eyes. She widens them at me and shakes her head. Her hair is wild, her T-shirt stained, and her hands red. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world, I decide. I need to see her face every morning when I wake up.

“Smells like Evanee’s c...” Trigger starts.

“Shut the fuck up,” Eight says to him.

“I was gonna say?—”

“Finish that fuckin’ sentence and I’ll bury you in the backyard.” Eight again.

Trigger narrows his eyes as he turns to the girls. “Delicious. Smells like?—”

“I’ll get a gun,” Reaper says to Eight.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Hash says to Trigger. “It ain’t a compliment to say that the chili smells like Evanee’s?—”

“I don’t wanna kill you too,” Eight snarls.

“EVANEE’S COOKING was what I was trying to say!” Then Trigger says to Hash. “Not like chili, just smells delicious.”

We break out in laughter.

“That’s weird,” Selma says. “You’re saying that the chili smells delicious, but also not like chili.”

“Let it go, Selma,” I tell her.

Lexie is standing next to Stella, holding four beers between her fingers. “What’s wrong with saying that?”

Eight shakes his head. “Jesus.”

“Jesus ain’t here brother,” Rocky says, elbowing me out of the way as he grabs a plate.

There’s light banter as we dish up and get settled. Stella, Selma, and Lexie stand behind the kitchen island watching us. I realize that us liking the food is the most important thing in the world.

I take a bite. Jesus Fucking Christ! It’s so fucking hot, the top of my head feels like it’s blowing off.

Coyote chokes. “Ach!”

Reaper stares at it then looks over to me. Eight keeps his eyes on the plate as Rocky starts laughing. Hash drops his fork on the floor and Rider swallows than takes another tentative bite.

Trigger, however, is shoveling the food in his mouth like it’s his last meal before execution. “Fuck, this is good,” he says. “Different than mom’s was, but not in a bad way.” He finishes the chili, wipes the plate clean with a bun, then gets a second helping. The girls are beaming at him.

Lexie leans into Stella and says something under her breath.

“I told you. Already taken,” Stella murmurs, her eyes glued to me.

Shit. I’ll break her heart if I don’t eat the fuckin’ chili.

“Aren’t you having some?” Hash asks the girls.

The rest of the guys tense. Hash is a sarcastic asshole who doesn’t know where the line is. This time though, he’s reading the room.

Lexie beams at him. “Can’t. Chili is on the no-fly list.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re athletes,” Coyote says as if we’re all idiots. “They have to adhere to a strict diet.”

“Lots of protein in this shit,” Reaper says as he swallows down another bite, then looks up as we all stare at him. “Good shit,” he quickly amends.

“Biker talk,” Trigger says. “We don’t know how to tone it down around pretty girls.”

“Nice delivery. Evanee givin’ you elocution lessons?” Rider mumbles as he takes another forkful of the chili.

“Four syllable word,” Trigger replies. “Evanee’s horse give you a dictionary?”

The banter goes on as we painfully eat the chili, all except Coyote. Silver spoon guy is too upper-class to lower himself to eat commoner’s food.

Selma notices. “You don’t like it?”

He sets the fork down carefully. “I don’t eat meat very often.”

“Me neither,” Lexie lies.

“He’s too short for you too,” Selma murmurs.

“He’s taken,” Stella mutters.

Trigger eats three helpings then flirts with the girls as he helps clean up. Mostly Selma and Lexie, so I let it go. Evanee is the most secure woman I’ve ever met so Trigger’s light flirting wouldn’t bother her. Besides, Trigger’s so fuckin’ in love with her, it’s embarrassing.

After the brothers take off home, I kick Selma and Lexie out of the house. Stella grabs a coffee cup from a cabinet and starts spooning chili into it. “I promised Sorcha I’d bring her some.”

No way Sorcha is gonna eat that shit. I’m about to come clean, then decide I’ll distract Stella instead. I’ll throw out the chili when she’s not lookin’. Not really a solution, but it buys me some time. “Sorcha can wait.” I open my arms. “Come here.”

Stella walks into them like she’s done it a million times.

I’m already full mast when I kiss her, my hands wandering down to her ass and squeezing the hard cheeks. “I wanna fuck you right here.”

“In the kitchen?” she murmurs. Her eyes are closed as her hands roam under my tee, tracing muscles, fingers sliding into the crevices, then palming the mounds.

My body’s blazing.

“Yeah, in the kitchen. In every fuckin’ room in the house.”

“Except Sorcha’s,” she replies.

“Shut up,” I growl as I shuffle us over to the kitchen table, then sit her on the edge, kissing her softly at first then as I get more turned on, full-out assault. I press my boner into her and she gyrates against me as she wraps her legs around my hips.

“Take your bra off,” I say as I yank her shirt over her head. She quickly opens it and slides it down her arms.

Her nipples peak and goose bumps break out on her arms. “It’s cold.”

“I’ll warm you up.” The sun has long since set, the lights are on and there’s no curtains on the window. For some reason, that excites me more. I want everyone to see me take ownership of her. Of course we’re facing an alley and the fence is six feet tall, so it would take a very motivated peeping Tom to see anything.

I lay her on the table and slide her pants over hips, grabbing her panties on the way. She’s wearing sneakers and I leave them on. There’s something sexy about it.

She wraps her legs around my hips again and reaches for me.

“Uh uh,” I tell her as I drop to my knees and settle between her legs. She slides her legs over my shoulders and then bucks when I slide a finger inside her, gather her wetness, then slide it up and down her slit.

“Oh my god,” she breathes.

I run my finger over the mound, slide it in the curve of her thigh, then through the crack of her ass. She tenses as she grabs my hand and places it back on her pussy.

It’s early days. I won’t press her limits.

I kiss her clit again, then tongue it, press it hard. Her whimpers get louder as she uses her thighs to head lock me and push my face into her pussy. She’s fucking amazing.

It’s time though. My dick needs strokin’, my balls need release. I stand, yank her closer, and enter her hard and fast. She gasps and fuckin’ frankly so do I. She’s tight, squeezing my dick like a boa constrictor.

Our breathing syncs, mine getting deeper and her moans get longer, higher. Not yet, baby. Not yet. I twist her around and flatten her on the table, crushin’ her with my weight.

She grunts and grapples to grab the end of the table.

“No need, baby. I got you,” I tell her. I cushion her with my arms, my front to her soft, silky back and hold her in a bearhug. She’s helpless, a rag doll, can’t do anything but let me fuck her. And I do, hard, fast, relentlessly. It’s so fuckin’ amazing.

“Okay?” I rasp.

“Yeah.” Her words puff out of her mouth, then she turns her head and seeks out my lips. Soft kisses, one against my cheek and then my mouth.

My balls are gettin’ tighter, and my staying power ain’t here with her. “I gotta get you off.”

I swing her around and set her on the island, then pull her tightly to me as I enter her again. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” she cries as she gyrates her hips. “Oh my god.”

Then she comes, hard and fast, her spasms shaking her, gripping my dick. It’s the tipping point. I explode inside her; I know I’m holding her too tight, know I’m bruising her but I can’t let go. I’ll never let go. She’s my anchor. My life.

“Stella, I say,” as she rests against me. “I’m in love with you.”

She pauses, then says, “I’m glad.”

“What?” I’m shocked at the lukewarm reception. Maybe I read the signals wrong.

She leans her head away from mine. The glint in her eyes and the smile on her face light up the room. “Thank you for loving me, Lachlan. I love you too.”

“Yeah but are you in love with me.” I’m a fucking insecure dog.

“Of course I am,” she replies like I should know better.

“How do you know?” Good god, next I’m gonna make her write an essay on all the reasons.

“I just know. The racing heart, the queasy stomach. The sweaty hands.”

I laugh as I caress her back. “That sounds like you need a doctor.”

“Love doctor maybe.”

I get serious. “You ever been in love before?”

She shakes her head. “No. This is the first time. You?” She’s watching my face carefully, looking for a lie.

“No. I mean, I Ioved Erin in a way, but it was immature. Teenage love. Not like with you.”

“I’m young.”

“Not like that. Erin and I were kids. Neither of us had ever seen a healthy relationship. Ours was toxic, just like our parents, just like the parents of all the kids we hung around with.” I stroke her face. “Your parents are good together. I mean your mom is totally nuts, but she’s a good mother and a great gramma to Sorcha. And your dad… he cares so much. I wish mine had been more like that.”

“They still think I’m their baby.”

I pick her up in my arms and head upstairs. “You’re clearly not a baby.”

“And yet, you’re carrying me like one.”

“Yeah. And I’ll wash you off in the shower.”

“It’s a little early for bedtime.”

“Who said we were going to sleep?”