Falling For Crazy (Moroad Motorcycle Club) (16 page)

He let go of her hair and slid his hand under her arm, lifting her. She raised her head. Her mouth came off him with a soft
pop
.

"Turn around," he said in his early morning, gravelly voice.

She swiveled, scooted, and lay back down with her head halfway down his body and her thighs up by his head. He turned to his side and lifted her leg over his shoulder. Exposed to him, she lowered her mouth to his cock. His velvety slick tongue swiped her sex. She sucked harder on his cock. The intense pleasure of pleasing him warmed her body.

Jacko hummed in approval, licking her clit, swirling his tongue, caressing the essence of her core. She palmed his ass, holding on while her lower half pulsed and gyrated against him.

"Hold on, tight," he said against her lower lips. "Suck hard."

She swallowed around him, increasing the suction. Her cheeks pressed against his width eliciting a growl and a pump of his cock in her. She bobbed her head, taking another inch, pushing her limit, surprised when the head of his cock touched the back of her throat.

Jacko nipped, sucked, stroked, and added a finger inside of her wetness. The sloppy wet sound of skin hitting skin filled the room along with her ragged breath and Jacko's soft growls of encouragement.

The raw hunger coming from Jacko spurred her own need. Her thighs spasmed and squeezed his head. She gripped the base of his cock. With her firm hold on him, she worked him with her mouth, concentrating on the enlarged head, the sensitive skin and around the edge, until pre-cum salted her tongue.

He grunted. "Too close."

She agreed with a whine of impatience. Her orgasm hovered close by, tempting her to hurry.

Jacko raised his upper body, shifted position, and put her on her hands and knees on the bed. In the mirror above the dresser, she watched the concentration grow on his face in the form of lines on his forehead, the set jaw, the heavy breathing as he kneeled behind her and rolled on a condom.

Then, his cock was inside her.

He looked up, caught her gaze in the mirror, and held her hypnotized. A shot of pleasure detonated. She arched her back and clenched her teeth, driving her moan back down into her chest. The pressure of Jacko's thrusting cock pounded inside of her. The low vibration deep inside of her grew louder, harder, and her spine stiffened with her orgasm.

He planted himself deep, leaned over her back, and said, "Mouth."

She turned her head. He captured her open mouth and thrust his tongue between her lips. She sucked. The same way she sucked his cock, mimicking the movement of him in her sex.

Sweet.

Hot.

Fantastic.

He pulled his head back and groaned, watching her in the mirror. His brows relaxed. The lines on his forehead all but disappeared, leaving only the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. It wasn't what he was giving her in the mirror. It was the hand at her hip making soft, slow circles telling her everything.

He wanted her. For him, sex wasn't about an urge or tickle or need. He'd held her all night, and then he'd stayed with her through waking up, sex, and after they'd both climaxed.

He slipped out of her body. She moved and stood beside the bed. After he threw the condom in the trash, wiped himself on a towel, he faced her. She leaned to him hesitantly, not because she was scared, but because she wanted to do everything right and keep him here with her.

She kissed him softly on the lips. "Thank you."

"For what?"

She glanced back at the bed, smiled, and faced him again. "For staying with me all night and for this morning."

He frowned. "You're in. I'm in."

His validation settled her. "I like that you've told me how you're feeling, Jacko."

She reached for the panties and oversized shirt she'd discarded during the night and carried them over to the corner of the room and added them to the growing pile of dirty clothes. "I asked Desiree if she could wash our clothes for us. She said she would."

Chilled from the lower temperatures in the morning and from having no heat in the motel room, she slipped on new panties, fastened her bra, and put her jeans and shirt on. She glanced at Jacko and found him in the exact same position of watching her.

Naked without an ounce of shame, his taunt body became harder. Jacko blinked and frowned. She found two matching pairs of socks and walked over to the edge of the bed. Any second she prepared for him to start swaying or rattling off nonsense to fill the void of conversation. Or, he'd simply walk outside and leave her alone.

Instead, he raised his clear gaze to her eyes and said, "You're not questioning me."

"About what?" She slipped her foot into her shoe, bent her knee, and tied the laces.

"Every day, you've asked me why I continually move around or what I'm talking about. About every time you look at me, you act as if I'm going to jump on you and slice your throat." The muscle along his neck twitched. "Last night, you questioned Cam. Suddenly, you're okay with me? Cam told you I killed someone and instead of trusting me, you're okay because Cam spoke words you understand?"

"That's not—"

"Don't throw bullshit at me, Amy." Jacko grabbed his jeans off the chair and shoved his legs inside. "You've let someone else put ideas in your head. You took what happened with Los Li, wrapped everything up into a pretty package that the president of Moroad gave you and instead of trusting me, you came to your own conclusions, and suddenly you have no questions. I thought you were the one person who could see past the shit I hand everyone else, but instead you only see what you want to see."

"What am I seeing?" She put her feet on the floor. "No, don't even try to explain. All you want to do is blow off answering me. Do you want to know what I've decided? I've decided you aren't going to give me the whole truth, so there's no reason to ask you any more questions. That's what you wanted all along. You should be happy I'm so accepting."

He looked away and ran his hand behind his neck. "You think I'm fucking crazy," he mumbled.

She stood, surprised to find herself agitated at Jacko's shift in how he argued with her. "I think something happened in the five years since I last saw you to make you...different than you were. But, you won't tell me why you act like you're damaged."

"Damaged?" He burst out laughing. "Momma, you have no fucking idea."

"Then tell me," she said, practically shouting.

His mouth curled into a hurtful smile. "Truth is what you believe, not what you see."

"You're doing it again." She planted her hands on her hips. "I don't know what that means."

"If you're lucky, you never will." He grabbed his boots and vest, heading to the door.

She plopped down on the bed. "You're impossible. First you're mad because I talk too much, and now you're pissed because I finally shut up. You seem to forget about having sex with me and acting normal for the last eight hours. You can ignore what's happening between us, Jacko, because whatever you do, no matter how crazy you act, you have an excuse. And, considering I told you I'm in, that means I'm in. But, you are definitely not in."

Jacko stepped outside and shut the door. She groaned, flopped back on the bed, and stared blindly at the ceiling. She wanted to smack him. He had her spouting nonsense. She sounded as insane as he did.

J
acko stood outside of the motel room, thankful for once the parking lot was empty. He walked to his bike, circled the motorcycle three times, and stopped. The urge to ride out, visit the one place that grounded him and come back and give Amy what she wanted most pierced his gut until the stabbing pain almost took him to his knees.

He opened the satchel hooked between his handlebars and removed the small flask designed as a flashlight in case the sheriff pulled him over. He downed the entire contents in two swallows. Not even enough to take the edge off before seven o'clock in the morning.

Prior to Amy throwing her attitude around, he'd let himself relax. Hell, they'd had great sex, and she gave him a damn good reason to get up and face the day. She'd accepted him after giving her a few statements last night, and then she'd changed.

He paced three yards, turned, and returned to his bike. Disappointed that she'd easily fall into looking the other way if he spoke out of line, laid down on the ground, or ignored the club, he wanted her to stand up and demand answers, to order him to fucking stand still, to face her, to pay attention.

He wanted her to be the one person with the balls enough to care about him, who wouldn't let him pretend he was handling everything. He wasn't. He hadn't. He'd failed.

He skipped the pack of cigarettes and instead pulled a joint out of his satchel. Halfway in, he got control of his anger. As the paper burnt down to his fingertips, he flicked the end to the ground and pulled out his phone. Maybe if he hurried, he could slip away without anyone noticing where he was going.

He only need a few minutes where he could talk and figure out what the fuck he was supposed to do. Once he got his head straightened out, he could focus fully on the job in front of him.

He shoved the cell back in his pocket and sat on his bike. He'd ride over there, one more time.

The steady roar of motorcycles stopped him from turning on his bike. Merk and Gunner rode into the parking lot and pulled in beside him.

Merk cut the engine. "Where are you heading?"

Fuck.

Lost in wanting to ride out, he'd forgotten about his need to stay here or tell his MC brothers he required backup for Amy. He dropped his hands to the gas tank, pissed even more at himself. Sloppy mistakes would get Amy and him killed.

"I'm just sitting and enjoying the morning. The others haven't got up yet." Jacko caught movement in the window of the motel room.

Amy obviously never forgot the danger she was under and stayed in the room aware of her surroundings and heard the incoming motorcycle. He had to keep his head.

"Jeremy spotted a marked black sedan going east on Interstate 90. They went past both exits for Federal. He dropped off and parked under the viaduct in case they loop around up at Lookout Pass." Gunner got off his bike. "I'll fill the others in."

"You guys staying?" Jacko asked.

Merk nodded. "Cam doesn't want any more trouble happening inside Federal. There's talk about the owners filing a report with the sheriff over the broken cameras and the window getting busted at the Laundromat and apparently the missing security tape out of the back room from that day of the shooting. If anything happens, Cam wants it contained to the outskirts of town. Bantorus MC already paid him a visit yesterday and wasn't happy."

"Fuck Bantorus," Jacko muttered. "They want to start something with the club, Cam can send them to me. None of this shit has anything to do with Moroad."

"It does, brother." Merk lowered his voice. "Nobody messes with one of us without having to deal with the club. The same rules apply outside as they did in prison."

Jacko pulled out a cigarette and wandered a few yards away. He'd put the club first over everything, except the one thing that mattered. He'd trusted wearing the patch would protect him and whoever belonged to him. The Moroad colors failed to keep him safe, and he'd lost Sarah. He wasn't going to lose Amy, too.

He inhaled and blew out a steady stream of smoke. Behind him a door shut, and his skin crawled in awareness. Without looking, he knew Amy came out to see what was going on.

He swayed left to right.

"Is everything okay?" Amy's sweet voice floated to him though she spoke to Merk.

With the sound of her filling his head, the taste of her still on his tongue, and his dick limp in his jeans— satisfied to the highest degree, he wanted nothing more than to keep hold of those feelings. They were real.

The attitude she gave him was misplaced.

His anger toward her unearned.

He needed to focus on what was right in front of him.

She weighed him down and kept him from roaming around lost. She gave him a place to lay his head, right between her breasts. And, when he allowed himself to believe, she gave her heart to him.

"Yeah, honey. Everything is okay," Merk said.

And, he decided right then, he hated that it was Merk she approached to ask her question and not him.

He turned and walked straight toward her. "Everyone get behind the motel before we become walking targets."

Amy fell into step beside him. Not that he gave her a choice. He loosened the grip on her wrist and slowed down to a pace she could maintain. Merk followed a few yards behind. In the distance, two doors shut. Any moment everyone would cluster around them, and he'd have to let Amy go on being pissed at him.

His MC brothers would question him if he went serious. He couldn't allow any doubts or he'd lose their trust.

At the empty pit, Jacko left Amy on an upturned log and went to the woods bordering the edge of the grassy area to gather some branches. He had to think of the immediate situation and how to get Amy back where she belonged. To get her there, he needed to keep her mind occupied, so she would stop dwelling on their situation.

He returned to the pit, dumped the wood he'd gathered, and picked up the propane torch. On a log, he sat and torched the smaller branches, burning off the bark, until he had the wood glowing red.

Amy sat with her arms hugging her waist, chilled from the early morning. He turned off the propane and tossed the canister to the side away from the heat of the fire. Merk, Bear, Johnson, and Gunner stood back by the building looking at the get-back whip Bear worked on and talked amongst themselves.

"Hey." He held out his hand to Amy. "Come here."

She looked at the others first, stood, and walked over to him. He leaned back, bent his knees, and said, "Sit."

She turned around to sit with her back toward him, and he tapped her leg. "Facing me."

Her hesitation wasn't lost on him. He held her hand and guided her to straddle his lap. When she was sitting, he scooted her close and wrapped his arms around her back. They sat eye to eye. Almost as close as when they were in bed, naked, enjoying each other's body.