Huck Page 20

  "More," she said, pulling away, turning to face me again, hand reaching down, touching my aching cock.

  "Babe, there's time for that later," I said, shaking my head.

  "Yes, later too," she demanded, lips sealing over mine, kissing me hard, hungry, until all thoughts of objection slid away, leaving me lifting her up as I got us out of the tub, putting her onto her feet as I grabbed towels, roughly, impatiently drying her off before reaching to grab a condom out of my wallet, then leading her over toward the sink cabinet where there was a massive mirror taking over almost the entire wall, letting me look over her as I moved in behind her, slipping on the condom.

  "Huck, please," she said, wiggling her ass back at me, and I couldn't resist landing a slap, hearing the sound reverberate through the large, empty, tiled space.

  "I'll never get tired of hearing you beg for my cock," I told her, realizing I was telling the truth.

  If this was any other woman, I would have been done with her by now, moving onto something new and shiny.

  Instead, all I could think of was all the ways I wanted to fuck her in the future.

  My hand slid forward, going between her thighs even as my cock slammed inside of her.

  After her tough day, I probably should have been softer and sweeter, but I had no control as I fucked her. Hard. Fast. Her whole body jolting with each thrust, making her tits bounce. Her hands moved forward, pressing into the mirror to hold herself in place as I drove her up, my hand working her clit, the other snaking around her throat as I felt her walls start to tighten around me, cutting off just enough of her air to keep her quiet as she crashed into her orgasm, making me come with her so hard that I fell forward over her, taking a long moment before I felt strong enough to stand again.

  "Hey, yo, boss man," Remy's voice called, making Harmon jerk away from me, reaching frantically for the towel to cover her body.

  "Fuck off, Rem," I called, dealing with the condom, then grabbing a towel as well.

  "I would except I just wanted to tell you that Teddy had some clothes dropped off for Harmon out here. And all the rest of us," he added. "So stop hogging the bathroom. We all need to shower."

  "Go home then."

  "Teddy is having us crash here. A party is starting in half an hour," he added.

  "For fuck's sake..."

  "Alibis," Harmon said, making me turn to look at her.

  "Hear that?" Remy asked. "She's starting to become one of us. Alright. I'm heading out so you can get dressed."

  "You okay with this?" I asked, leading her into the guest room where, sure enough, there were piles of clothes waiting for us. Loud, hideous clothes. So no one would forget seeing us. Teddy might not have been a biker, but he was a brother through-and-through.

  "I, ah, I don't know that I am right now," she admitted, pulling on a pair of bright pink leggings, then reaching for a t-shirt with the owl from the old Tootsie Roll Pop commercials with the words "Wanna lick?" below.

  I was almost afraid of what was on my shirt.

  "We can leave," I told her. "Get you home. Get some pain meds in you, some food, some sleep."

  "Alibis are important in your life, aren't they?" she asked.

  "Sometimes, yeah."

  "So they are important in mine too now," she said, shrugging, then snorting when I finally pulled my shirt on over my head.

  And there it was.

  Teddy's payback for anything I'd ever done to him.

  A giant beaver head with the words "Beaver Liquors" around it.

  "I mean... it's not wrong," she said, smile bright.

  "Alright out of the way," Remy said, coming in, grabbing a shirt that said "Yo Homes to Bel Air," then rushing through to the bathroom.

  "I think we can get through this one party to make sure everything is okay, and then we can relax all we want tomorrow, right? We will have the time."

  We.

  I'd never been a part of a "we" before.

  I was sure I didn't want to be.

  But if that other person happened to be Harmon, I was not only willing, but more than happy to be a part of it.

  Epilogue

  Harmon - One Week

  The clubhouse was a flurry of activity.

  It was like all of the contractors Huck had been lining up for a while now suddenly all had open schedules on the same day.

  Well, that, or maybe Huck was being extra paranoid now, was paying extra to make sure it all got done at once.

  Seeley, Remy, McCoy, and Che were inside finishing up the ballistic steel on the interior walls.

  I was in charge of picking new colors for the paint to cover them—and the rest of the rooms that desperately needed refreshing—so they blended in. And I wasn't sure if I should have felt flattered to be included, or a little pissed that they pawned the girly job off on me.

  Either way, I was sitting in the kitchen looking through paint swatches, jotting down the names I liked best and what room I thought they would work best in.

  Outside, the fence guys were making all kinds of racket. As was Booker's team of security professionals as they installed more cameras than could have possibly been necessary.

  But I guess I couldn't blame Huck for being paranoid.

  I only knew a fraction of the obstacles they'd been dealing with since opening their chapter, and what I did know was enough to make me struggle to sleep some nights.

  It was something I would have to learn to get used to. The uncertainty, the fear, the possibility of someone I cared about getting beat up, knifed, shot, maybe even killed.

  The idea of that made my stomach flip over, but that didn't seem like enough of a deterrent to stop me from wanting to be with Huck.

  To be honest, the whole week had been a mix of pure paranoia about any or all of us being caught for our involvement with the Chechens and Kit, and also the soaring heights that came with a budding relationship, learning all the ins and outs of a person.

  For example, Huck liked cinnamon toothpaste.

  Like a psycho.

  And he liked horror movies.

  And he had some strange aversion to pickles. But he loved coleslaw.

  See, me? I loved pickles. And I hated coleslaw.

  So if we ever went out to a restaurant where they were traditionally served together, I could take the extra pickles, him the disgusting mayonnaise-infused cabbage, and nothing would go to waste.

  "That's a long list you got going there, babe," Huck said, coming in from the back, moving to look over my shoulder.

  "This isn't all paint. I am just jotting down some other ideas of things that can be done. Like, you know, blinds and curtains. Proper soap dishes in the bathrooms so it isn't sitting on the sink porcelain like you're a bunch of barbarians."

  "And what's this? Bins with lids?"

  "In the bathrooms," I clarified. "Because they need lids."

  "I'm not following."

  "Because you're a guy," I declared. "Just trust me on it, okay. Bins with lids. In fact that goes to the top of the list right under primer to cover up those psychotic ramblings on the linen closet walls." In blood, I might add.

  "Alright, I can send Seel..." he started, cutting off when the sound of a bike could be heard coming down the street, making both of us stiffen as he reached for a gun. "Stay here," he demanded, moving through the house.

  I hadn't suddenly become the bravest woman in the world.

  But I didn't become any less curious than ever before either.

  So I waited for Huck and then the others to move outside, then I crouched down low by the ballistic steel part of the wall as I peeked out at the front window just in time to see a single bike pull into the driveway, two passengers on it. From the looks of things, one man and one woman.

  There was one moment of tension before it slipped away, making the men tuck their guns away, big grins breaking out across their faces.

  The woman whipped off her helmet, her wild blonde hair flowing, her beautiful face beaming as she flew off th
e bike, ran, and jumped up into Huck's arms.

  Jealousy bubbled up in my system as Huck's arms went around her, as he whirled her in a circle, a giant smile on his face.

  I wasn't a stranger to jealousy per se. I mean we all felt it day to day in our society, but feeling it about a man was pretty new to me. I guess because I hadn't really ever had a man who was truly "mine" before. Sure, I'd dated. Sure, I had feelings. But each relationship seemed doomed to fail from the jump. And a part of me always knew that.

  I didn't know that about Huck.

  In fact, all I felt toward what we had was hope.

  Maybe because this was uncharted territory for both of us, and we were candid about that with each other, about how we didn't really know what we were doing, if we were good at this or not, but we were taking it seriously, trying to give it a chance.

  So, he genuinely felt like mine.

  And those arms that belonged to me were around another woman.

  Anger fired off my nerve endings as I made my way toward the front door, opening it silently, moving outside, but staying where I was, shamelessly eavesdropping.

  "You are a lot less banged up than the last time I saw you," the woman declared as she was put down on her feet, her hands going up to frame Huck's face, and it took a lot of willpower not to charge forward and tell her to stop touching him. "Things have been calmer?" she asked.

  "Define 'calmer,'" Seeley suggested, shaking his head. "Drive-by and kidnappings, concussions, near-drownings, and bullet holes have rounded out our month."

  "Damnit. I moved away at the wrong time and missed all the fun," she said, sighing.

  I was starting to think I had it all wrong, that there was nothing to feel jealous or possessive about. Because even though Huck was a giant and this woman was much smaller, there were some similarities now that anger wasn't clouding my vision. The eyes, the hair—even though Huck's was several shades darker—, and even the strong jawline structure.

  This woman wasn't my competition.

  She was his sister.

  This was Gus, in the flesh.

  Which meant the man walking up behind her with the tats and the charming smile was West, a member of the Henchmen MC in Navesink Bank, New Jersey. He was from the mother chapter.

  "Funny," West said, wrapping an arm around Gus's waist, pulling her into his side. "When I talked to Reign last, he said everything down here was just peachy."

  "Yeah, 'just peachy,'" Huck repeated, snorting. "That sounds like something Reign would say. Look, we have it handled. If it was something that seemed worth reporting, we'd have called you guys, asked for backup. But it is just growing pains. Nothing too crazy."

  "Wait a minute. Wait. A. Minute," Gus said, mouth falling open as she looked over at me. "Is that a lady friend? Does someone have a lady friend over? In the morning?"

  "Gus..." Huck tried to intervene. But it was too late. She was already making a beeline for me.

  "Please tell me it's Remy."

  "Tell you what's Remy?" I asked, brows drawing together.

  "That you're with. I mean unless you're just doing it with him casually, which is a lot less interesting."

  "I'm not, ah, doing anything with Remy."

  "God damnit," she snapped, sighing dramatically. "I had five-hundred on Remy. Alright, then it has to be Che. Sweet, introspective Che."

  "Ah, no."

  "Well, I know it's not McCoy."

  "Hey, why not me?" McCoy asked.

  "Because you're you and you take everything too seriously. Seeley? I mean, you're older than him, but good for you. He's got great bone structure."

  "Gus..." Huck said, shaking his head even though she wasn't looking at him.

  "Wait... wait," she said, smiling big. "Oh, is it Teddy? Did he finally hang up his whore badge?"

  "Gus," Huck tried again, voice firmer as he moved over toward me, putting an arm at my lower back. "This is Harmon. Harmon, this is my sister, Gus."

  It took a long moment for Gus to accept what was right there in front of her, her gaze going between the two of us several times before a tentative smile pulled at her lips.

  "No fucking way."

  "Yes, fucking way," Huck said, pulling me closer.

  "Well, I don't approve," she said, making my stomach plummet. "I mean, look at her hair. And her makeup. She's far too cool for you. Harmon, I will take you into town and introduce you to some very yummy men I used to know."

  "Oh, yeah, who?" Huck asked, not the least bit offended. "That oil magnate that hired private investigators to try to hunt you down after you hopped out a bathroom window when on a date with him? Or, wait, how about the coke dealer?"

  "Hey, in my defense, the coke dealer told me he was an entrepreneur. And that was one date. And, mostly, I just really, really liked his car. "Anyway," she said, smiling at her brother, then turning to me, "you and me, we have to talk. In fact, I think we need to call Ayanna, and have a girls night on the town, so you can tell me all about what horrible path in life left you slumming it with my brother here," she said.

  "Oh, shit," McCoy said, sighing. "It's going to be like old times. Should we gather the bail money now, or wait until they get themselves into trouble?"

  "Always before, man," her man, West, said, shaking his head as he smiled affectionately toward his woman. "I mean, have you met Auggie? She's ending up in jail tonight."

  He wasn't wrong about that either.

  And I was right there by her side, drunk off my ass, further soiling my family name, and making amazing memories with a girl I hoped to call family someday.

  Huck - One Month

  "What?" I asked, catching Teddy looking at me for the third time in as many minutes.

  "You're an idiot," he told me, not mincing his words.

  "Alright. Am I an idiot for any particular reason, or just in general..."

  "Well, you're an idiot in general too, but this is about something specific," he told me, picking up his drink from the kitchen table. "What do you see here?" he asked, waving toward the magazines and pieces of paper Harmon had scattered around.

  "That's Harmon's shit. She's been helping us pick out paint colors and curtains and shit."

  "And shit," he repeated, brow raising, making it clear I was missing something.

  "What?"

  "It's amazing that the human species hasn't died out," he said, shaking his head at me. "When the women are this obvious, and the men are this clueless."

  "What am I missing?" I said moving toward the table, seeing the same shit that had been there for days.

  "Christ. Okay. See all this," he said, speaking slowly like he was talking to a particularly dense child. "This is what womenfolk call 'subtle hints,'" he explained, shifting about a dozen pieces of paper together. "And he's still not getting it. Your fucking woman wants to build a garden. How do you not see this?" he asked. "Here are pictures of flowers. Here is a gardening magazine. And here, you utter dipshit, are hand-drawn plans on how to build raised beds. And in case you missed it, this is a sketch of your clubhouse. She designed the raised beds to fit around the clubhouse."

  "Alright, now that you say it, yeah, that wasn't that subtle at all," I decided, feeling a bit like a dick for not putting the pieces together myself. "In my defense, no one else put it together either."

  "No?" he asked. "Hey, Arty, man," he called, making the man practically run out from the living room at the sound of his voice. The man-crush was going strong. "What does this mean to you?" he asked, waving at the table.

  "That Harmon wants to garden?" he said, eyes hopeful, not wanting to be wrong in Teddy's eyes.

  "Precisely."

  "Come on. You put it all together for him," I objected.

  "She put it all together for you," Teddy insisted. "Hey, Remy," he called as Remy was walking through the kitchen with a goddamn blue and gold macaw on his shoulder. We weren't even going to talk about the goddamn parrot.

  Five dogs.

  Four cats.

  A tortoi
se.

  And now a parrot.

  We could practically open a petting zoo.

  "Yeah?" Remy asked, moving closer, making Arty jump away as the bird lunged at him.

  "Have you noticed the papers all over this table?" Huck asked.

  "The ones for the garden?"

  "Oh, for fuck's sake," I said, sighing.

  But, yeah, now that they all mentioned it, it made sense, didn't it? It hadn't escaped me how she'd looked at the gardens at her grandmother's estate, how she'd reached out to caress some flowers, smell others. I just figured she liked flowers, not that she wanted to garden.

  "Harmon, love," Teddy said as she walked into the room, makeup all done, wearing her usual tank and shorts like she did when she was recording. "Can I make a suggestion?" he asked as she grabbed a yogurt out of the fridge.

  "Ah, yeah, sure. I guess. What's up?"

  "So, you play video games, right?"

  "Yeah..." she said, brows furrowing.

  "And you do missions with other people sometimes?"

  "Yeah."

  "And those people, might they be of the male persuasion?"

  "Yes. What is going on?"

  "Think of communicating with this Neanderthal like telling a teammate where you are in one of your games. Very fucking specifically. Because they don't do subtle."

  "I'm really not getting it," she admitted.

  "Teddy here thinks I'm an idiot for not realizing you want to put in a garden here," I told her, reaching out to snag her waist, pulling her in at my side as I grabbed her plans for the raised beds in my other hand.

  "Oh, right. Well, you know, I was just thinking about it, is all. Obviously, I wasn't trying to say you had to put gardens in. I just like gardens. And I can't do anything next door because my landlord is a dick. I mean, it would help the curb appeal. But no..."

  "Speaking of that. I was thinking about investing in some real estate," Teddy said.

  "You already own like a fifth of Florida. How much more real estate do you need?" Remy asked.

  "Well, I was thinking that," he said, waving out the window toward the house next door that none of us had stepped foot inside for over a month at this point. Pretty much everything Harmon owned had been moved in because of the hiding out thing. And neither of us had even given a second thought to her going back over there. There was no reason to.