War (Kings of Sin MC #2)

12. Time’s Up

CHAPTER 12

TIME’S UP

Cocooned in a duvet of heat, I stir awake, stretching my limbs like a cat. For the first time since the injury, my ribs don’t smart at the movement. A sated smile curls my lips. Patting the mattress, I sit up, listening for movement. Callan’s not in bed.

Silence greets me, beckoning me to push the covers away. Climbing from the bed, I drag my shirt over my head and hunt down my panties, only finding my pants crumpled by the end of the bed. I slip them on and lean over the railing overlooking the space below. Sunlight spills in from the windows, filling every inch of the downstairs and bleeding up the walls to the bedroom. The house is still. There’s no movement or sound down below.

“Callan?” I call out, waiting for his reply. Nothing.

A piece of paper on the coffee table catches my eye. It wasn’t there when we got in last night.

Taking the stairs, I rush over to the note, a swell of discomfort settling in my chest. Picking up the note, my eyes flit over the neatly scrawled words.

I didn’t want to wake you.

Gone back to the club for business.

There’s food in the fridge. Eat something.

I’ll be back soon.

Callan

Last night, he denied bringing me here because I’m not welcome at the club. Now, those demons in my head creep in from dark, insecure corners, whispering their disagreement. The sex seems more like it was a distraction now. He should have woken me.

Looking around the empty space, I pat my pockets for my phone, remembering I left it at the club on Callan’s bedside table. “Why didn’t you bring your damn phone?” Sighing, I look around the room, the urge to get out of here overwhelming.

Wandering into the kitchen, I try to distract myself and open cabinets, finding most of them empty apart from one with a couple glasses and plates inside.

My stomach growls, hunger pains twitching my insides.

I pull open the fridge and sift through some packaged meats, cheese, and spreads. Opening one of the packets, I take out a few slices of ham, roll them up, and stuff them all in my mouth, slamming the fridge closed. “There, I ate.”

Screw this.

Running up the stairs, I pull on my shoes and finger-brush my hair to try to tame it, then jog back down toward the front door. There’s a note pinned there.

You’re predictable.

Stay and rest.

He can boss me around in the bedroom, but he can go to hell if he thinks I’m going to be a good little girl hidden away because his daddy doesn’t like me.

I ball the note in my palm and drop it into the key bowl before yanking the door open. The sun bleeds over the tips of my shoes, and I pause, debating whether I should leave without knowing where I am. It didn’t take us that long to get here from the hospital. I could ask someone or flag a cab.

Decision made, I make sure the door is locked behind me and walk down the steps. Hedges border the sides of the house, offering privacy from all sides. Across the street, an old lady is raking leaves in her yard. It’s comical that Callan “Pain” Cox lives on a street where old ladies rake their yards. I wave when she notices me coming down his driveway. She scoots her glasses down her nose, eyeing me over the top of the hedges, and lifts a frail arm to wave back.

Looking left then right, I remember we came in from the right last night. There are a couple cars parked by the sidewalk. I narrow my gaze, noticing one is Kitty’s small SUV with Tim inside. “What the hell?” I walk toward it, and Tim ducks down. I knock my knuckles against the glass of his window. “Tim?”

Righting himself, his chest expands and deflates before he lowers the window and leans out. “Hey,” he says sheepishly.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. Are you spying on me?” I ask incredulously.

“No.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m keeping an eye on you. There’s a difference.” His shoulders heave.

“If the person doesn’t know about it, it’s stalking.”

“Don’t bust my balls. Callan told me to tail you if you left the house.”

“Callan’s going to get his ass beat. You’re taking me to the club,” I inform him.

His eyes expand. “No, Rogue. I’m not supposed to.”

I knew Callan was keeping me away.

“You either take me or I take the car and go alone.”

“For fuck’s sake.” He smacks his hand against the steering wheel. I glare at him, noting the old woman is still watching me.

“Get in,” he finally caves.

I round the car and slip inside. “You know you’re crap at spying on people, right?” I raise a brow, pulling the seatbelt into place.

“You’re just a paranoid person,” he sulks, pulling away.

“No. You’re bad. Really bad. I spotted you before I even went anywhere.”

“It’s my first time,” he defends, taking his eyes off the road to look over at me. “You should be asking why Callan is having you tailed in the first place. What’s going on at the club?” he asks, like I’m more likely to know what’s going on than he is.

“What do you mean?” I wring my hands together.

“Everyone not patched in got booted out for the day.”

My heart thuds, the boom rattling my ribcage.

“They only do that when something big is going down.”

I think about Callan having to tell his brothers about their pres being alive. Maybe that’s why everyone else got kicked out.

“Was Kitty there?” I ask, remembering we left her at the hospital last night. A twang of guilt bubbles in my gut.

“Yeah, she’s there.” His tone holds irritation, drawing my attention to his face.

“Spill.” I poke his rib, and he swerves the car.

“Fuck, Rogue,” he scorns, but his tone is light and playful.

“What’s going on with you two?” I should be asking her or not getting involved, but I like Tim. He’s been good to me since I came to the Kings. And Cutter’s a dick.

“She’s hot and cold. I think Cutter might have a thing for her too.” He looks at me briefly, but he won’t get information from me about that.

“So, you actually do have a thing for her? It wasn’t just a messy, drunken hook-up?” I pry.

“It was a messy, drunken hook-up for her.” He shrugs.

“You’re a catch. She’s a fool to pass you over.”

He grins over at me.

“She’s the last person I should have a thing for. Callan will cut my balls off.”

“Kitty’s her own person. She doesn’t care what anyone says about her dating club brothers.”

“I’m not a brother yet.”

We reach the No Entry road sign leading up to the clubhouse, and my muscles stiffen. Maybe this was a bad idea.

I look to Tim to distract myself. “You will be. And do you want some advice?”

“Yeah, give it to me.” We reach the gates, and he pulls to a stop.

“Ignore her.”

“What?” He snorts, studying my face for signs that I’m joking.

“Trust me.” I give him a stern look. “Act like it was no big deal.”

“That really works?”

“Don’t be a dick about it, just don’t look like you’re pining.”

“I don’t pine.” He frowns, and I chuckle.

“I have faith she’ll make the right choice.”

“Who is she choosing between?” he edges.

“Nice try,” I scoff, rolling my window down. Looking up at one of the men in the watchtower talking on a phone. “Are they going to open the gates or what?”

“I told you the club is a no-go to everyone but the patched in brothers.”

“I think I know why,” I muse.

“Do you want to share?”

The gates suddenly open, and Tim groans. “I’m probably going to get my ass kicked for this.”

“I’ll tell them it was my fault.”

“They won’t care.” A mix of guilt and trepidation trickles into my blood.

Pulling into the compound, I gnaw at my bottom lip, rubbing my sweaty palms down my thighs. “Fuck,” Tim grumbles, turning his gaze from Callan walking out the front door.

Stopping the car, he twists his hands on the steering wheel.

“I’ll make this up to you,” I tell him.

I slip out of the car, immediately going into defense mode when Callan jabs a finger into the car. “Unbelievable.”

“Is it? Because your note said I’m predictable. You know, the one you left after fucking me into a coma and then disappearing.” Folding my arms, I come to a stop at the tip of his boots. The anger marring his features a moment ago vanishes, a smirk now gracing his lips.

“I like it when you say fuck, Rogue. It makes me want to take you over the hood of the car.”

“Do you like an audience?” Poor Tim’s already had an eyeful of me in my underwear.

“I don’t mind if it’s a teaching moment.” Arrogant ass.

“Trust me, he doesn’t need the lesson.” Kitty’s report of his prowess makes me smirk.

Callan’s features harden, nostrils flaring. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means don’t worry about Tim. You lied to me last night.”

“When?”

The driver’s side door opens, and Tim’s footfalls pad on the concrete. “I’m sorry.”

“Get back in the car. I’ll deal with you later,” Callan snaps, his eyes staying locked with mine.

“It’s not his fault. I made him bring me.”

“Rogue, he had one job.”

“To spy on me. That’s not how this is going to work.” I flick a finger between our bodies.

“Not spying, watching over.”

“Bullshit. Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Because you needed rest and I had shit to do.”

“Just admit I’m not wanted here.”

A growl climbs up his throat. Grabbing my arm, he guides me away from the club around the back of a wall with a hose attached to it for cleaning cars and bikes.

Snatching my arm from his grip, I grit, “Don’t manhandle me.”

“You’re being a brat and you know it.”

“I don’t like being lied to. If your dad doesn’t want me here, that’s fine.”

“It’s not fine—and that’s not why I didn’t bring you.”

“Then why?” I fold my arms over my chest, refraining from stomping my foot. I am being a brat, but dammit, all I have is this club, Kitty, and Callan. I have this overwhelming fear I’m on the cusp of losing them.

“I was informing my brothers of the situation. Who was responsible.” He told them my sister shot their pres and didn’t want me around for any blowback. My chest deflates.

“How did they take it?” I dip my head and kick my foot against the wall.

“They’re happy their pres is alive and angry it happened in the first place. Word is already getting out. The police went to question him last night after we left.”

The police. My heart squeezes like a vice. “What did he tell them?”

“Nothing.” He lifts a nonchalant shoulder. “Police are always called when it’s a gunshot wound, they’ve been waiting for him to wake up, but he’s not a ‘talk to the cops’ kind of guy. Only the brothers know about Harley’s involvement.”

That’s good. My stomach twists at the thought of people discussing her and what she did.

“So, are the brothers mad at me?”

“No.” He scratches the back of his head.

“You can tell me. I’m a big girl, and I’m happy to talk to anyone who takes issue with me being here.”

“Rogue.” He takes my arms, stroking down them until he reaches my hands and pulls me toward him. “They fucking love you and know you’re one of us.”

“Then why are you acting weird?” There’s something off with him. I can’t explain it, I just feel it in my bones.

He looks around the wall, back to the club door, then to me. “I’m not acting weird. I have club business to deal with and it’s hard to do that when I’m worried about you.”

“You fucked me to distract me.” I sound pathetic, but dammit, he’s making me paranoid.

Growling in the back of his throat, he steps into my space. Wrapping his hand around my throat, he angles my face to his. The action sends my body rushing with excitement. The scruff on his chin brushes along my jawline, he inhales as if smelling my arousal through my skin. My nipples bead, warmth blooming in my lower stomach.

“I fucked you because it’s all I think about when I’m with you. My cock is constantly at half-mast.” His teeth drag down my neck. “And I haven’t spent nearly enough time inside your warm, tight body.” He palms my ass with his other hand, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “I fucked you to fill you with my cum so I can think about it dripping out of you while I’m sorting business.”

Crowding every part of me, he backs me up against the wall, his hand moving from my ass to tease the waistband of my pants. “I want to fuck every hole you have and mark every inch of your skin with my teeth.”

My breathing becomes jagged and slow, exposing everything I’m feeling. I swear you can see the air sizzle around us from our connection. “Don’t tease me,” I murmur, grasping his wrist, pushing his hand into my pants.

A hiss lashes from his lips. “You’re not wearing panties.”

“I couldn’t find them,” I puff out a gasp of air as his fingers brush my sensitive clit.

“I want to eat you alive.” His fingers dig into my jawline, and his lips crash down on mine, rough and demanding. I give back everything he gives me. Lost to sensations. Thick fingers push inside, stretching me, fucking me, stealing my thoughts, my air, my voice.

Ripping himself from my lips, he yanks at my pants, shoving them past my hips and down my legs until they’re at my feet.

He smacks my thigh. “Step out.”

Hidden behind a wall, we’re still very much exposed and easily discovered. Nerves dance over my skin, raising goosebumps. I’m too far gone to care and need to feel him.

Stepping out of my pants, I raise my chin in challenge. “Now, what do you want me to do?”

He slips his knife from its sheath on his boot and places a finger to my lips, silencing me. I run my tongue up the length of it.

“I want you to keep as quiet as possible while I eat your pussy.” My core throbs. Liquid heat soaks between my thighs. “Bite down on this.” Placing the knife handle between my teeth, he offers me a wicked grin and drops to his knees, gripping my hips, shoving his face between my thighs, and inhaling a deep breath. “You’re the best fucking flavor in the world.”

He growls, lifting one of my thighs over his shoulder he laps a deep, flat lick up my center, parting my folds. His tongue flicks over my clit driving every other thought from my head. I grip a fistful of his hair and smack my other hand against the wall, looking for purchase. It takes everything I have not to tear the knife from my lips and gasp for breath.

He dances between sucking and flicking, and if not for his firm grip on my hips, I’d buckle into a puddle on the floor.

Pleasure and pain in perfect sync tease me as he devours me with fervor. My heartbeat moves through me in waves, heat unfurling up my spine and expanding to every part of me. A keening moan clogs my throat, my body coiling tight. His warm tongue circles my clit, applying pressure over the hood. Sweat dusts my skin as my body climbs toward the peak of something indescribable.

I tip over the edge, my head turned toward the heavens, my internal prayers all to Callan. My god.

His mouth leaves me and is replaced with the pads of his fingers sliding through my juices. “Fuck, you’re goddamn sexy, Rogue. Listen to how wet you are.”

A whimper passes my lips as my pussy walls throb.

Getting to his feet, he takes the knife from my teeth and brushes his wet finger across my bottom lip. “Taste how hot you are.”

“Do you want to fuck me?” I ask, gripping his wrist, sucking down his finger.

“Oh, I’m going to fuck you, Rogue,” he growls, tearing open his jeans. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”

I eagerly comply, the cool bricks offering a reprieve for my heated cheeks.

“Mmm…” he groans as he strokes his nose into my hair, taking a fistful and nibbling my ear. “Such a good girl.”

“There are a hundred rooms here, and you fuck me against a wall outside,” I tease him with his own words.

A bolt of lightning zaps through me as his palm smacks against the flesh of my bare ass.

“I’m going to fuck you in every room and against every wall of this clubhouse. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be imprinted into the fabric of this place, your moans haunting the halls long after we’re gone from this earth.”

“You going to keep talking or are you going to fuck me?”

Another smack elicits a moan from my lips.

Grasping my hips, he pulls them back, kicking my ankles apart.

He fills me up in one rough thrust. My mouth drops open, and a strained gasp catches in my throat.

Thrashing his hips, he fucks me with a ferocious need. Growling, slapping, tasting.

The distinct sound of the garage shutter opening rattles through the air. Callan shifts his torso, looking around the wall without stopping his punishing thrusts. “Looks like we’re going to have an audience after all, Rogue. We better make this quick.” He palms my tits, powering his hips, stroking all the delicious parts inside me.

“You want my brothers seeing me fucking you, claiming you, knowing they can never have a taste?” He grunts. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours,” I cry, my core tightening, euphoria filling my blood. I’m floating on the thralls of pleasure, falling over the edge, taking him with me.

“I love pumping you full of cum,” he grunts, his cock pulsing inside me, warmth flooding my womb.

He collapses over my back, his lips peppering across my shoulders. As soon as I catch my breath, he pulls his cock from my body and tucks himself away before capturing my lips for a hard, fast kiss. Releasing me, he bends down to pick up my pants and hands them to me. He shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out a small black piece of material. “Better wear these this time.”

“Asshole,” I admonish, taking my panties from him with a grin.

“I wanted to have your scent with me today.”

Rumbling engines and voices carry from the garage, causing a spike of panic within me. I don’t want them seeing me naked, no matter how sexy Callan’s words were in the heat of the moment.

I shove my feet into my panties and follow with my pants as fast as possible. “What’s going on?” I ask, jerking my head toward the open garage door. Movement inside shows a gathering of brothers getting ready to head out somewhere.

“We’re going on a run.” He kicks at a cluster of dirt, and a cloud of dust plumes over his boot.

I cut my eyes to him. “Where?”

“Club business.” He drops his gaze to his boots, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

“You said I’m part of this club, so what type of business?” His jaw flexes, gritting his teeth. His eyes briefly close. Something is off. I knew it and should have trusted my instincts.

“Callan,” I snap.

His eyes spring open, and he exhales a defeated sigh.

“We’re going to the Devils’ club.”

I freeze, impaled by his words.

He takes my silence for confusion and elaborates.

“We’re going for Tyler.”