Spike’s Perdition (Saints Purgatory MC #7)

25. Spike

CHAPTER 25

SPIKE

ONE MONTH LATER…

“Is she coming out for breakfast?”

I pour myself a cup of coffee before moving to the table in the kitchen where Abyss has a feast spread out. He’s been making huge meals every morning since Ivory started staying here. She made the mistake of complaining that she was starving one day, and he’s made it his personal mission to make sure that’s never the case again.

“Nah. She’s still sleeping.”

“Go wake her up,” Abyss orders. “She needs to eat.”

“Bro, I know. I won’t let her starve, I promise.”

“Fine,” he huffs and points at me with a spatula. “See that you don’t.”

Ivory’s been staying at the clubhouse for a few weeks now, and we’ve settled into a comfortable routine. I love having her here where I can keep an eye on her. Having her close has also given us the opportunity to really get to know each other and build a relationship.

More and more, I find myself thinking about how much I want her in my life. Her and our son. Before meeting Ivory at Purgatory, I’d started to realize I was missing something in my life, but that thought hasn’t crossed my mind since. She’s filled all the voids in my heart and soul.

The kitchen door swings open, and Ivory walks in. She’s still dressed in sweats and one of my t-shirts, and she’s rubbing her eyes sleepily. When she spots the large quantities of food on the table, she groans.

“What?” Abyss asks, sounding offended.

“Where are the spicy pickles and peanut butter?” Ivory counters as she glares at me. “You know I need those in the morning.”

I hurry to the fridge to get the pickles and then to the pantry to get the peanut butter. After setting them both on the table, I smile at her.

“Anything else?” I ask.

“Some chocolate milk and canned tuna.”

“Goddamn, woman,” Abyss grumbles. “How can you eat that shit?”

Ivory frowns. “Because it’s delicious.”

My brother shudders. “No, it’s not.” Pointing to the table, he continues. “Bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, and waffles are deli?—”

“Shut up before I puke.” She gags and lifts her hand to her mouth as she spins on her heel. “Too late.”

She races from the room, and I sigh. “Guess it’s gonna be breakfast in bed.”

I get a tray from the top of the fridge and load it up with all the weird shit she craves. After adding some bacon and eggs for me, I make my way to my room. The toilet flushes as I enter, and I breathe a sigh of relief that I missed the disgusting stuff.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll do anything for Ivory, including holding her hair back and wiping her forehead with a cool washcloth when she’s spewing her guts up. But I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth when I’m spared. Fortunately, her bouts of morning sickness are few and far between.

Ivory strolls out of the bathroom, wiping her face on a towel. Her eyes light up when she sees what I’m carrying.

“You’re a prince,” she says happily.

“I don’t know about that,” I tease. “Letting you put all this shit in your mouth seems more like a sin than anything.”

“And under normal circumstances, I’d agree with you,” she admits, rubbing her belly. “But our son disagrees completely, and he’s a demanding little sucker.”

Chuckling, I settle on the bed next to her. For the next twenty minutes, I watch her savor each and every bite. I manage to put a little food away, too, but not much because I worry I’ll upchuck from the smell of her food pairings.

“That was sooo good,” she groans. Ivory licks her fingers clean, moaning at the lingering taste. “Now what?”

I stand and carry the tray to my dresser where I set it down. “Now,” I begin, facing her. “You brush your teeth because I wanna kiss the fuck outta you.”

Ivory giggles but scurries to the bathroom. I follow, wrap my arms around her from behind, and watch her reflection.

“Maybe we can shower when you’re done,” I suggest, bobbing my brows.

She spits toothpaste into the sink and rinses her mouth out. “Only if you do that thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know… the thing .” She grins. “With your tongue.”

Arching a brow, I smirk. “You mean the thing where I write the ABCs on your nipples with my tongue?”

She leans back against my chest and moans. “Yes, that.”

Without responding, I slowly pull her shirt up and over her head. Then I slide her sweats over her hips, letting them pool at her feet. My cock swells when I realize she’s not wearing any panties, and I quickly undress before turning the shower on and leading her into the tiled stall.

Warm water cascades over us, but Ivory shivers.

“You cold?”

She shakes her head.

“Horny?”

Nodding frantically, she turns to face me and rests her hands on my chest. “Very.”

“We should definitely do something about that.”

“Yes, please,” she purrs.

I take my time washing her hair and body, letting her pleasure build. It doesn’t take much to make her detonate, and I thank my lucky stars for her raging hormones.

As soon as she’s clean, I dirty her right back up. The ABCs have never been so erotic. With every pass of my tongue, Ivory moans, and when I lightly pinch her clit, she explodes, her body convulsing.

“That’s my girl. Let it all go.”

“S-so g-good.”

Her knees buckle, and I scoop her into my arms to carry her to the bed. With her growing belly, missionary is out so she rolls onto her side, and I ease into her from behind.

Our first time together was incredible, but sex has only gotten better with time. Sure, we move slower and with more purpose, but it only adds to the pleasurable sensations.

When my spine begins to tingle, I reach around and roll her clit between my thumb and forefinger. Two more gentle thrusts, and we both come.

We fall back to Earth, and I tug the blanket up over our bodies. “C’mere,” I urge, pulling her against my chest.

“I think it’s time for a nap,” Ivory states, yawning.

“Sleep, sweetheart.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

I really need to get to work, but Knuckles can handle the shop for the day. Blindly reaching behind me, I snatch my cell off my dresser and send him a quick text. He responds within seconds that he’s got things covered, and I kiss the top of Ivory’s head.

“I’ll be here,” I assure her.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”