Avenging Us (Rocker Series Book 3) (5 page)

His eyes widened and his brows pinched together. “I’m honestly worried for you. Like seriously. You need a support group for pregnant beasts. Besides, what would the broody alpha say if I told him I’ve been sneaking you these?”

My head whipped around and I glared. “You wouldn’t dare…” I knew he most likely wouldn’t. After all, Abel would kill him, and then scold me. Last few visits to the OB, my blood pressure was high. I needed to lay off salt and take it easy. The doctor was worried about Preeclampsia so Abel had the house purged of any salt and sweets, making it unbearable.

Before Chance could answer, the unthinkable happened. The boys returned from the studio tired and hungry.
Fuck
. “Stick the rest in your pants.” I pushed the dish toward him.

“What pants? I’m wearing board shorts, bitch.” His voice filled with panic.

I shrugged. “And? Figure it out right quick or…” I turned my attention to Abel, Woody, Ender, and Jake.

Out of the corner of my eye, Chance stuck the rest of the peanut butter cup and two pickles spears into the side pocket of his board shorts. “I hate you right now. You know that, right?” He glared at me, wiping his hand on the napkin. “Worst friend ever—
ever
.” He stood to greet the boys, smiling widely. I laughed, and Chance’s eyes met mine with malice. He murmured something about Karma and how he hoped my feet would swell three more sizes.

Woody hugged me tight before grabbing a handful of grapes. “I see yer still up the flue.”

I blinked a few times and searched my mind for the definition. Chance and I recently bought an Irish to English translator. Chance stood behind Woody gesturing with his hands around his belly.
Pregnant
. “Yep, and in my third trimester. Almost at the end.” I beamed, and he leaned in to kiss my cheek.

“Aye, the babe is comin’ soon then…” He nodded and stepped around me, heading for the bar.

Woody, recently sported a taped up, faded Mohawk. It wasn’t as extreme as a normal Mohawk, but it was a trendy version of one. His roots were dark and the ends were light blond. He wore it well. What I couldn’t wrap my head around was the basketball shorts he wore. When I asked, his response was classic Woody: “Tis the best of ol’ time. I’m Jordan with my sticks.” How could you not laugh at that statement? While it was true—he was the best drummer that came on the scene in years—his comparison to Jordan was brilliant.

Jake and Ender hung back, speaking off to the side while Abel’s determined gait caught my attention.
No
. I looked for Chance and saw him slipping through the sliders.

Abel sat on the double lounge, kicked his feet up, and beckoned me with his finger. His smirk was adorable and his eyes focused solely on my lips.
Jesus, did I have chocolate on them?
It would be too obvious to wipe my mouth and gargle with my iced-tea. I knew he’d sniff it out. So I went to him, holding my chin up high, and let him pull me to lay next to him. “Hiya.” I kissed his cheek and burrowed my face into his chest. “Why are the guys here?”

“Is that a problem, Beauty?” he asked and pulled his sunglasses down from the top of his head to cover his eyes
. Problem? Was he serious?

I sat up and turned to face him. “Never a problem. I was just wondering if they were hungry. I could go in and—”

He pulled me over his legs to straddle him. And I thanked god I’d put my cover up on before they arrived. He loved my pregnant body. Me, not so much. “Is that what you’re worried about Gia? You want to feed the boys? That is why I hired Michael. So you can enjoy this pregnancy, house, and above all,
me
…without the worry of cooking.” He leaned forward and captured my lips. “Umm…” He moaned deeply then pulled away. “I usually taste sugar as you’re so sweet, Beauty. But today, I taste chocolate and peanuts with a hint of pickle.” His brow raised as he waited for the confirmation he already knew.

Busted.

Having the gift of thinking on my feet, my answer was quick. “Impossible, I’m not allowed peanuts, chocolate, or pickles. Although, I don’t see why not once in a while.” I shrugged it off. “And besides, where would I get it from? You wiped the house clean,” I said as innocently as I could pull off. I couldn’t see Abel’s eyes through his sunglasses, but I could see his tight lips and the flare in his nostrils. I started fanning myself. “How about a swim?”

Just then, Chance came out of the pool house wearing new board shorts, and Abel followed my eyes. “Hey, skippy, any idea why Gia tastes like chocolate, pickles and peanuts”

Chance stopped short of our chair and answered with complete confidence. “No clue. As you can see, her tray is right there.” He pointed to the table without missing a beat.
Damn, he even had me questioning what I’d eaten
. “Now, if the boys are staying, I need to tell Michael.” He took off and walked quickly to the main house.

I chewed the inside of my cheek and waited for what was next. However, it wasn’t something I anticipated.

He pulled me close, kissed my nose and then my forehead. “You’re not a very good liar, Beauty, and neither is Skippy. Do I need to raid the pool house?” His voice remained calm yet deadly serious, and my body stiffened.

“Nope.” I shook my head vehemently. “I promised to behave, and I’m behaving.” I kissed his cheek and made a mental note to have Chance get rid of anything he stashed.

Jake and Ender finally approached, saving me from more of the alpha attitude being thrown my way. “There’s our girl.” Ender grabbed my hand and helped me off Abel’s lap, hugging me tight. His green eyes weren’t his best assets. The combination of his Spanish skin and jet black hair were top on that list. He had a sexy European look that he capitalized on, and the ripped body he sported was just icing on the cake. His hair buzzed on both sides, long on top, and it fell sexily over his right eye. Maybe it was his constant finger combing that kept the attention of the ladies. He certainly made a show of it.

Ender released me to Jake. “You’re absolutely gorgeous Gia. Can I feel?” His voice was full of admiration and he kissed my forehead in the way of a brother. I never had a sibling, but now I felt like I did.

“Thank you, Jake. And of course you can.” I blushed and looked up at Jake’s handsome face.

He placed his hand gently on the top of my stomach. The sun reflected off his eyebrow piercing. He had deep blue eyes, dark brown hair with natural highlights, and high cheekbones a girl would kill for. His chiseled face matched his chiseled body. He spent many hours in the gym honing it. He was a work of art, and Chance joked, calling him “David” after Michelangelo’s piece. I couldn’t refute his claim. He was stunning to look at. Each of the boys were gorgeous and unique in their own right. However, there was something different about Jake. He had a quietness to him, but there was something prowling behind his eyes. I’ve heard some stories from Chance. His quiet demeanor was the lure that baited women, who became helpless to his charms. In fact, his kink might be up there with Abel’s. Which I just couldn’t picture. They all had a unique look.

Jake removed his shirt and draped it over the chair, turning his chair to face the setting sun. My eyes dropped to the square bandage on the top of his upper right arm. The boys were always getting new tattoos or piercings. This was nothing new to me. I stopped caring about “traditional” families and what people might think. My circumstances were different. They were my life now, and I was thankful for each and every one of them.

“Get your pervy hands off my girl and my kid,” Abel shouted, and all conversation halted. Until he smirked. I knew as well as they did that he was deadly serious. However, I had a talk with him about people wanting to touch out of curiosity and it wasn’t anything perverted. He said,
“I’ll consider it.”

Michael, our chef, barbequed, and Jessie, our sous chef, helped serve. The food flowed and so did the spirits. The boys, as usual, cleaned out the beer and moved on to hard liquor. Abel, of course, wasn’t drinking, and I couldn’t. However, what caught Chance’s and my attention was Ender and Jakes reaction to Jessie. Abel obliviously played with my hair and neck, Woody tapped new beats on the back of a chair, all while Ender and Jake not so discreetly cornered Jessie. Chance shook his head back and forth at me, because he knew what was coming.

I turned and whispered in Abel’s ear—the question Chance was clearly fretting over. “What’s that about?” But he continued to ignore me and placed hot kisses up and down my neck. I snapped my fingers in an effort to wake him from his sexual haze. If I wasn’t pinned under him…he made it his life’s mission to remedy that.

He opened his eyes, annoyed by my interruption. And then they followed mine to the two men and one woman standing not far from where we were. He nodded and said, “It’s their kink.”

“Meaning what exactly?” I asked even more interested now.

“Meaning, they like to
fuck
together. As in M-M-F…” he said, returning to my neck. And the acronym played in my mind. MMF…MMF…MMF.

Mother of all things holy
.
When did this start?
I had so many questions. Did they fuck each other? Bisexual? Who was on top—or the bottom for that matter? Ugh, my body exploded with goose bumps pondering the possibilities. However, now wasn’t the time to interrogate the broody alpha. I’d have to back-burner that and ask Chance. He knew everything, and I was going to kill him for not dishing sooner. Some gossip girl he turned out to be.

“Why…does that turn you on, Beauty?” His breath hit my ear and warmed my core.

“Nope.” I lied. “You’re the only man that turns me on, and I’m utterly satisfied.” I removed myself from his lap, and whispered into his ear. “I’m going to make love to my fiancé.” I walked away and said goodnight to everyone. I never turned back.

The last few months we’ve been working on our newest album,
Under the Blood Moon
. After Jake’s introspective explanation, as a group, we agreed it was fucking cool. It would be the
End of Days
tour.

The blood moon, in some circles, was symbolic of the
“end of days.”
He showed the notable quote.

“The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord.” –Joel 2:31

This album was a testimony of how close we’d become as a group. We’d managed to have a great time writing and recording as a team. When we were in the studio, it had a different vibe than the last album. There wasn’t any fighting or misplaced egos. We were stripped-down-bare musicians who loved to play and make music. These songs were darker metal. The management’s concern was, “Would the fans follow? Would we be able to integrate it successfully into Lethal Abel’s persona?” Some still thought of us as pretty boys, and that’s what they capitalized on. This album was dropping Christmastime and the execs were twitching that the bible-thumpers would cause problems. My reaction was simple. If people had a problem with what we were doing, because it would cause debate or public outcry, I welcomed a healthy discussion in the current stagnant scene of rock.

Basically, go fuck yourself. My band. My music. Be respectful of other people’s point of view or don’t listen.

“Fuck me, lads. Any beak? I’m about to gnaw my own fucking leg off here,” Woody yelled at the producers behind the glass. I laughed as I watch them all look to one another for explanation. We’ve been working our asses of with no food. “Jesus fuck already. Food, man. Got any?” He threw his stick at the glass window.

Dave was still our band’s manager alongside my father—who still denied to this day we were getting fingered by him. While we couldn’t hear what Dave was telling them, we laughed good and hard as they scattered about.

Jake and Ender hung their guitars on the stand and walked over. Woody sat behind his kit and glared at the window. He was not patient, and when he was hungry…
brutal
.

“Yo, you’ve never sounded better.” Ender clapped my back with his hand.

“Yeah, you too. You’re nice and tight,” I answered. It was true. Ender could be a total dick at times, but no one could deny that his fingers were masters of the strings.

“You too, Jake. Got the fingers of Getty Lee, dude,” I said, for bassists Getty Lee set the bar.

He laughed. “Yeah, don’t I wish? I appreciate that, man. I have a really good feeling about this music we’re creating. We are in the zone. A testament to where we are in our loves. Found our sweet pocket.” He and Ender shared a private laugh. We were all tight as brothers. However, those two hung out a lot more and Woody was either with me or did he own thing.

“Yeah, I was meaning to ask. What’s up with Jessie? My sous?”

This time, Ender answered, Jake taking the backseat. “Well, we’ve been meaning to ask you. What the fuck do you need with a sous chef?” He laughed it off, but I could tell he was only deflecting my question.

“I wanted Michael and she came with him…packaged deal,” I said flatly. It was true. I didn’t think we needed her, but the fucker wouldn’t let me hire him alone. I thought maybe they were a thing. “Why, what’s up?”

Woody caught wind of the conversation and his curiosity got the better of him. “Yeah, I’d fuck the box off her.”