Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,66
in the pillow, eyes still shut.
“What the…?”
“Chicken…” She sighs as she yanks my pillow to her chest and cuddles it.
I’m going to go out on a limb here and say the baby is craving chicken. I press my palm against her belly, and a surge of excitement, nervousness, and fear rolls through me. I want her to have this baby so bad, but it’s selfish of me to ask that of her if she doesn’t want this, especially with how the baby was conceived.
She says she doesn’t know, but instincts don’t lie. When I ask her about it, I see it in her eyes, and when I find the son-of-a-bitch who took her without permission, I’m cutting him open.
From his neck to his stomach, then I’ll flip him over and do the same to his back. I want to hear his screams as he realizes no one is coming to save him, just like no one could save Jo from his hands.
Jo gasps, and it yanks me from my thoughts. I check her over to make sure she’s okay, and she grins as she cuddles into the blanket. “Nuggets,” she whispers and then bites into the air as if she’s eating them in her dreams.
I’m glad she isn’t having nightmares.
I chuckle and press a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll bring you back chicken nuggets; don’t you worry.” I stay there for a moment, my nose against the soft curve of her neck, and simply breathe her in. Her long hair tickles my cheek and the sandalwood of my bodywash lingers on her skin, but it smells sweeter. I don’t want to leave her, but I have to.
I open the drawer to the nightstand, grab a memo pad and a pen, and leave a note that says I’ll be back later.
She whimpers as I walk to the door. Giving her one last look, I do my best to memorize the image in front of me, the moment. Her hair is melted milk chocolate along the covers, pure silk draping the sheets. Her body is small, her arms are slender, and while physically she doesn’t look strong, she’s one of the strongest people I know.
Finally getting my feet to move from under me, I leave my future behind to go deal with a threat. Opening the front door, I step out into the early morning sunrise. The air is cooler, and the promise of fall is just around the corner. I inhale, exhale, stretch, feeling the muscles she latched onto the hardest protest as I move. I grin at the memory of her gasps, her moans, the whispered way she said my name in my ear as I drove into her.
Fuck, I’m getting hard again just thinking about it.
The way her hips felt in my hands, the way her pussy clenched around me and pulsated as she came…
Damn it! I need a breather. I take a minute to myself and place my hand against the beam of the porch. My fingers curl, clenching my hands into fists when I think about how good she took my dick in her ass.
“Jesus Christ, the woman is going to be the death of me.” I shake my head and hop down the steps, kicking up red dust as I walk. My eyes are set on the destruction around me. Skirt’s home is gone. Bullets are everywhere. Glass is broken.
Lives were almost lost.
My home was almost gone.
Someone dared to fuck with my house, and I don’t mean where I sleep. I mean once I enter those gates to the compound, this entire area is my fucking house.
A place that was once a sanctuary is now a death trap. We don’t forgive anybody when they fuck with our home, our lives, and threaten our hearts.
And I don’t mean my heart, none of the guys do when we talk about it.
Our hearts are what make this place.
Us, the guys, our hearts are stone-cold black most days.
No, what makes this place special is the love that was breathed into it when ol’ ladies starting popping up left and right. Bikers aren’t warm and fucking fuzzy, but the women are, and the ol’ ladies have worked too damn hard to make this place home.
Everyone should know once you fuck with a Ruthless, you get ruthlessly fucked until the desert soaks up your blood. Whoever these guys are that dared attempt to demolish us, I’m going to rip their organs out, put them on ice, and fucking FedEx them to their