Breath on the Wind (26 page)

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Authors: Catherine Johnson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Breath on the Wind
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“Hey, where’re you going?”  Elmo kept him in place by wrapping her legs around his hips, which was nice, very nice, but not necessarily very helpful, especially since it put his cock right at the entrance to her pussy.  It was hot, and slick, and inviting.  Chiz groaned again.

 

“Doll, I gotta get…”

 

“No you don’t.”  Elmo interrupted him, and at the same time, flexed her hips, so that the tip of his cock slipped into her.  He was about to protest, but she interrupted him again.  “I kept forgetting to tell you, with everything that kept happening.  I’ve got an IUD.”

 

“A what?”  As far as Chiz was concerned, that sounded like she was going to blow the fuck up, and not in a good way.

 

“An intra… You know what? If I told you what it stood for, I’d still have to explain what it is.  It’s permanent contraception.  We don’t need to use condoms.”

 

“Really?”  Who said Christmas didn’t come twice in a year?

 

“Really, really.”  Elmo confirmed.  Her grin turned into a silent scream though as Chiz shoved into her, hard, driving as deep as he possibly could into her body.

 

In his decades-long career of fucking, Elmo was the only woman that Chiz had ever been bare inside, and it had been a revelation.  Now, knowing this, he was never going back to latex, ever.  He’d dump his stash of rubbers the moment he got home, because this was fucking heaven, right here.

 

He thrust deep, then rolled onto his back, taking Elmo with him so that she ended up straddling him.  The wicked grin on her lips made his balls clench.  He fucking loved watching her ride him.

 

“Go for it, doll.”

 

Elmo started to move, grinding her pelvis back and forth, and occasionally in random circles.  All of it good.  When she tossed her head back and started to play with her own nipples, Chiz gripped her hips, looking for something to hold onto, an anchor, as much as anything.  He was transfixed by the sight, but he wasn’t going to lie back and just let her fuck him.  He wanted to make her come.  He wanted to be responsible for her orgasm.  Chiz planted his feet, and shoved his hips upwards as he pulled Elmo down onto his cock. 

 

Elmo cried out, and arched back even further.  Chiz didn’t think it was possible to be deeper in a woman than he was at that moment.  Over, and over, and over, he pulled Elmo’s body down as he thrust up into her as hard as he was able.  She came with a long, undulating wail, her body spasming wetly around his. 

 

Chiz gritted his teeth, and held off his own orgasm until Elmo’s body had finished pulsing.  Then, as she collapsed forward onto his chest, he rolled them again, putting her underneath him.  Now he let loose his own need.  Elmo was almost limp, but as he drove his hips against hers, harder and faster, she began to climb again.  Chiz grunted when he felt her nails dig into the muscles over his shoulder blades.  By rights she should have left permanent marks there.  It was her favorite place to hold onto.  He fucking loved it.

 

Chiz felt his own orgasm uncurl, and picked up his speed.  Elmo responded immediately.  As soon as he felt the first clench of her muscles around him, Chiz released with an animalistic roar, the pleasure too loud to be contained.  He couldn’t stop thrusting though, couldn’t help but continue the movement, eking out every last drop of pleasure from the moment.

 

Eventually, completely spent and bone tired, his arms gave way, and he dropped onto Elmo’s sweat-slickened body.

 

“Think you can sleep now, doll?”  He asked as he rolled off her, out of her.

 

“Depends.  You going to wake me up in the morning?”  Elmo’s words were slurring.

 

“Demandin’ little bitch, ain’t ya?”  Chiz chuckled, and cracked open an eye to look at her.  She was almost fully asleep already.  With a bit of inelegant maneuvering, he got them both under the comforter.  Elmo turned to her side, and Chiz folded his body around hers, his chest to her back, his knees tucked behind hers. “Sweet dreams, doll.”

 

He didn’t get an answer.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Most of the night before had been amongst the worst hours that Andy had ever experienced.  She’d called Chiz as soon as she’d received the death threat.  As hokey as it looked, with the letters of all fonts and sizes clipped from newspapers and magazines, Andy took the sentiment that it contained very seriously.

 

She’d been unable to do anything other than sit, and wait, and listen, and hope that they didn’t come for her before Chiz arrived.  She knew, in the playground way of things, that the Church had gotten exactly what they wanted, her leaving the state.  Assuming, of course, that they didn’t actually want her dead.  But Andy couldn’t work up any anger over that.  She was plenty furious about the bomb, about the deaths of her friends, colleagues and clients, but for herself, no. 

 

For herself, the Church’s actions had led to her being in the position she was in now, which was in her Miata, cruising along the I-10, on her way to a life of new possibilities.  The bone-jangling terror of the night before was blown away by the sunshine, and the wind that tangled her hair, and with it went the cobwebs spun from a lack of sleep.

 

They made a pretty little convoy traveling along the Interstate to Absolution.  Her car was small enough that Chiz had been able to share the same lane with her for most of the way.  She had the top down, and it was possibly the next best thing to being behind him on his bike.  His two friends who’d arrived in the van were behind them, and the one who’d arrived on his bike, as an extra pair of hands, was bringing up the rear.

 

Andy thought she had their names straight, but Chiz had warned her that the rest of the club would be waiting to help at the other end of the journey, and Andy knew that by the end of the day she would need clarification on who was who.

 

It hadn’t taken long at all to pack the van up.  Between them, the four men had made light work of her furniture and furnishings.  That had given Andy almost enough time to finish packing everything else.  Chiz had started to say something to her a couple of times, and then held back.  Andy felt sure that he was trying to ask her about the lack of personal effects, photos in frames and the like, but that he was trying not to ask within earshot of anyone else.  It wasn’t that she didn’t have any photos, but they were in albums, stacked neatly in a box, out of the way.  There were simply none that she cared to look at every day.

 

The apartment she’d chosen in Absolution was on the third floor of a modern structure that was barely ten years old.  They were plain and grey on the outside, and plain and magnolia on the inside.  Everything about the building, and the apartment, was extremely ordinary and boring.  Andy had been drawn to a lot of the older architecture around Absolution, and she’d seen some properties that she wanted to discuss with Chiz.  She didn’t want to move into temporary accommodation that she ended up in love with, so she’d chosen something without an ounce of personality to recommend it.  It was simply walls and a roof to contain her and her belongings for the time being.

 

Even though Chiz had warned her that the club would turn out to help, Andy was still surprised by the line of bikes that lined the street outside her new address.  The early spring sun glinted on the gleaming paintwork and shiny chrome of the machines.  It was obvious that they were the pride and joy of their owners, apart from one.  One looked as though it had been through a monster truck rally.  Andy was going to ask Chiz about the story behind that.

 

A space had been left near the entrance of the building.  Assuming that was for the van, Andy pulled in beyond the line of bikes, but left room for Chiz to add his ride to the stationary parade. Andy took her time getting out of her car.  She could see in her rearview mirror that Chiz was already being swallowed in greetings, and she didn’t want to hang around like a spare part for that ritual.  By the time she joined Chiz on the sidewalk, he’d said his hellos and was punching Shark on the arm.

 

“She let you out of the house?”

 

“I got leave for movin’ duties, just so long as I keep my phone charged, switched on, and on my person.  That’s word for word,” Chiz’s friend replied with a grin.

 

A tall redhead, who managed to look done up despite the casual jeans and shirt outfit she was wearing, walked up to Andy with her hand out.  Andy took it and shook it as the woman introduced herself.  “I’m Moira, Samuel’s wife.”

 

“I’m Andy.  Pleased to meet you.”  The woman’s smile was warm and genuine, although the tilt of her head indicated curiosity.  Andy returned the smile.  She was beginning to understand that the interest in her lay primarily in Chiz’s interest in her, rather than anything else.

 

“Likewise, cher.  Ignore the boys, my girl’s due to drop any moment.  Daddy here,” Moira hitched her thumb in Shark’s general direction, “is on call.”

 

“Your girl?”  Andy was a little confused.

 

“My daughter Ashleigh is his wife,” Moira explained.

 

“Ahhhh.”  Andy nodded.  Okay she hadn’t expected the club to be quite so incestuous.  She wondered if that was a thing, or if this instance had been coincidence.

 

Moira came to Andy’s side, and linked her arm through Andy’s elbow, guiding her down the sidewalk to a small Chevy truck.  “I’ve checked the place over.  It’s clean.  You’re all good to go.  I’ve got coffee for us, beer for the boys, and food for later.  We’ll get caffeinated while the boys get started.  There isn’t room to take everythin’ up at once.”

 

“Thank you.”  Moira’s plan made sense, but Andy didn’t have any intention of just standing around watching others do the work for her.  She figured she’d humor Moira for one coffee, and then get stuck in.

 

“It’s my pleasure, cher.” 

 

Moira handed Andy a travel mug, which, it turned out, contained a strong latte.  They leaned against the side of Moira’s truck and watched as the men began to wrangle boxes and furniture out of the van.  They were all pitching in, old and young alike.  It didn’t look like unloading her possessions was going to take long at all with this many people to help.  Andy wasn’t worried about the arrangement of the furniture in the apartment; there was plenty of space to move it around.  Her new place was actually bigger than her place in Alabama.

 

Once she’d finished her coffee, Andy tried to help by carrying a few boxes, but the men just took them off her, brushed her aside, and carried on regardless.  Moira smiled benevolently when Andy gave up and returned to her side.  “They can be cavemen, but that has its uses, cher.  Take advantage.  That way you won’t mind so much about the other stuff.”

 

Chiz had explained a very little of what the ‘other stuff’ might entail.  She knew he wasn’t telling her everything, he’d said as much, and she’d decided to make her peace with that.  The way she saw it, he wouldn’t want a blow-by-blow account of what she’d done at work each day, either. 

 

Andy spent the rest of the morning chatting with Moira as they watched the men fetching and carrying.  Moira pointed out who was who again, and by the time they took a break for some food, Andy was fairly confident that she could identify everyone.  Andy knew damn well that Moira was fishing for information with some of the questions that she asked.  Some, she didn’t mind giving the answers to; some she deflected.  It was obvious that Moira was quite a domineering personality, but Andy guessed that that answered her unasked question about how she coped with the permanent macho-chest-thumping that surrounded her.

 

The men gathered by the side of the van to take five, and drink a beer or two and to eat a sandwich from the coolers that Moira produced from the back of her SUV.  Crash, the man with the bright, crazy blue eyes and scars over his scalp, was asking Chiz which box his handcuffs and ball gag were in.  Andy knew she would have a lot of those jokes to get used to.  She smiled to herself as she made plans to play up to that a little bit. Shark had his back to Andy when he pulled his shirt off to wipe the sweat from his shaved head. She almost dropped her own bottle of beer at the sight of the vicious, circular scar on the big man’s shoulder.

 

“You okay, doll?”  Chiz was by her side, smiling, and just asking generally.  She’d hidden her shock well, she thought.  Andy turned, and murmured directly into his ear.

 

“That scar on Shark’s shoulder.  Jesus, it looks like someone branded him.”

 

“Someone did,” he murmured back to her.

 

That sounded like it came under the heading of ‘other stuff.’  “Don’t tell me.  I don’t wanna know.”

 

“That’s probably best, doll,” Chiz murmured.  He took the opportunity to turn their little conversation into a kiss, which earned them some whistles.

 

“Hey, Mistress Elmo,” Crash called.  “Are you gonna tell us which box the kinky shit’s in?”

 

Andy was shocked into a fit of giggles.  That wasn’t the first time she’d heard them using that nickname, but it was the first time someone had called her by it outright, and Crash had added a new twist.  If she’d known she was going to end up stuck with it, she would’ve chosen something different, back when she’d introduced herself to Chiz on Christmas Day.  She didn’t mind overly much, though, it was simply another aspect of her new life, and it made her feel like she was fitting in with his family.

 

“Funny fucker, aren’t ya?”  Chiz was calling, as he threw his bottle top at Crash’s head.

 

Elmo smiled brightly, and answered Crash.  “Well since it’s a fresh start and all, I thought I’d take him shopping for some brand new toys.” 

 

Chiz, who was maybe blushing, was about to say something to her, when Shark jumped like he’d been stung. He fished about in his jeans pockets until he found his phone, then he walked away a few steps as he answered the call that the handset had vibrated with.

 

When he turned and came back, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.  Considering his olive skin, that was no mean feat.

 

“Oh shit.  Ash is in labor. She’s havin’ contractions.  She’s gonna have the baby.”

 

Moira laughed indulgently.  “I’m sure she’s not gonna have it in the next five minutes, cher.  How far apart did she say the contractions were?”

 

Shark looked mightily confused.  “I don’t know.  I didn’t ask.”

 

Moira sighed theatrically.  “Come on, cher. Samuel, get your presidential butt in motion.  We need to help make sure our girl gets to hospital in one piece.  You,” she pointed one finger at Shark, “are not drivin’ her.”

 

Shark nodded dumbly and went to his bike.  From the way he seemed to struggle to get it started, Andy didn’t have high hopes for him making it to the hospital without an accident, and she began to be glad for Ashleigh that she was going to have her mother there.  Especially as Samuel didn’t look much less dumbstruck than his son in law.

 

Moira entrusted the coolers of food and drink to Andy before the trio left, including another one that she’d kept hidden in her Chevy.  She made it plain to the men remaining, that since it contained food and drink to tide Andy over until she could get to a store, that anyone who touched it would be answerable to her wrath.  That seemed to put the big bikers on notice.

 

The departure of the little group marked an end to snack time.  Even two members down, it didn’t take the others long to finish unloading her belongings.  She simply didn’t have that much of everything. 

 

Once most of the larger pieces of furniture were in place, they’d let her start to unpack.  She’d started in the kitchen, well out of everyone’s way.  Andy had marked all the boxes she’d packed with which room they pertained to, and it seemed that most had been distributed correctly, which made unpacking a whole lot easier. 

 

When the van had been emptied and everything had been carried into her new, temporary home, the men headed off to the clubhouse to wait for news of the imminent arrival.  Chiz, however, stayed with Andy amidst the chaos.

 

“You can go, if you want.  I can get this lot sorted out by myself.”  Andy was in the middle of making her bed.  The frame had been taken apart for the transportation, but Kong and Fletch had made sure that it was rebuilt ready for her to sleep on.  Kong was another one of the nicknames that she did not want to know the back story for.

 

“Not a chance, doll.”  Chiz called through from the living room, where he was deciding on the best arrangement for the sofa and the television.  “I wouldn’t miss the chance to christen your new place.”

 

Andy smiled, privately thinking that it was more likely that they’d both fall asleep as soon as they stopped moving.  She finished shaking the comforter out and plumped the pillows.  Having decided that everything else could wait to be unpacked, she walked through to the kitchen to retrieve two of the beers that Moira had packed into the cooler that was not to be touched.

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