Capturing Cree (Kings Reapers MC Book 2) Read online

  “Aw, Eva. You know you’re beautiful. Just too good for men like me,” says Lake.

  “Christ, not you as well,” she huffs. “What is it with you bikers?”

  “We just know a good woman when we see one.” Lake shrugs.

  “Exactly, so why don’t you want to sweep me off my feet and take care of me?” she whines.

  Lake smiles. “It’s not in my DNA to do the romance thing. I’m a fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em kind of guy, and you’re too good for that.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she says and then turns to me. “What do you think, Cree?”

  “Stop talking, Eva,” I mutter.

  “It pisses you off when I talk, doesn’t it?” She smirks. “You hate my voice. You hate my happy voice,” she says. “So much so that when you finally got the balls to fuck me, you practically held my face in the cushions.”

  “Jesus, Eva. Shut the hell up,” I snap. “You’re drunk and you’ll regret everyone knowing our business when you remember this tomorrow.”

  “Fuck, that’s the longest sentence you’ve ever said to me.” She laughs. A look of hurt passes over her face and she presses her lips together. “But I am a fuck her and chuck her type of girl, aren’t I? At least, you thought so.”

  I snatch her up by her wrist and drag her from the room. Everyone’s eyes are downcast, and she follows me silently. I get as far as the stairs and then stop. If I take her to my room, I might end up making another mistake. “You can take me up there,” she snaps. “You won’t be coming anywhere near me like that. I’ll make sure of it!”

  “Christ, woman, what’s got into you?” I huff and continue on to my room, pulling her behind me. I slam the bedroom door closed and release her wrist. “Now, you wanna tell me what the fuck all that was about down there?”

  Eva folds her arms over her chest. “You keep cockblocking me and Lake,” she whines and I raise my eyebrow. “Why won’t you let me have sex with him?”

  “You’re drunk,” I mutter.

  “So what? Did you have sex with my boss tonight?”

  I grin. “Are you jealous, Eva?”

  “No. But because of you, she’s being a cow to me. Her and her pervy husband. She’s been on my back all week. Did you tell her about us?”

  I roll my eyes. “Do I look like the type of guy who goes around talking about his business?”

  “Why is she being such a bitch then?”

  “Maybe because you kicked her husband in the balls?”

  Eva covers her mouth. “I feel sick,” she mumbles and then, without further warning, she projectile vomits. I watch in horror as it splatters over my floor, covering both of our feet. I slowly raise my eyes to hers. She still has her hands over her mouth and her eyes are bugging out of her head in shock. “Oh god, Cree. I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

  “This is why you shouldn’t drink so much,” I mutter. She nods her head. “Go and get cleaned up. I’ll sort this.”

  She rushes out the room to the bathroom at the end of the corridor. I give her ten minutes and then follow. The door is unlocked, but luckily, there’s no one around. I find her sitting on the floor by the toilet, wrapped in a towel. Her knees are pulled up to her chest with her head resting on them. “You okay?” I ask.

  “The shots were a very bad idea,” she mumbles. “I got vomit on my clothes,” she adds, pointing to the pile of clothes on the floor.

  I hold out my shirt. It’s the one she sent back to me this week. “Put this on.”

  She moves her wet hair from her face and takes the shirt gratefully. When she struggles to put it around her, I hold it open so she can thread her arms through. I turn my back so she can move the towel. “I’m done,” she mutters a few seconds later. I scoop her up in my arms, and I don’t flinch when she rests her head against my shoulder. I carry her back to my room and deposit her on the bed. “What are you doing?”

  “What if you get sick again?” I mutter. “And you have no clothes to go home in. Sleep here. I’ll grab a couch downstairs.”

  I head for the door. “Actually,” she says and I stop. “I don’t mind you lying next to me. I promise I won’t touch you.” I glance back at her hesitantly. She lifts the sheet back for me to get in. “I swear. I get it. I won’t touch you.”

  I’ve never had a woman share my bed. I’ve never been able to risk it. But something about her sincere face has me moving towards the bed. I shrug out of my kutte and chuck it on the chair. Eva shifts over so there’s plenty of room. I lay down on my back and she laughs. “You look so stiff and uncomfortable. Relax.”

  “I can’t. This is all new to me,” I confess. I wait for her to laugh, to call me ridiculous, but she turns onto her side to face me and places a pillow in front of her.

  “I won’t pass this pillow,” she says. I release a breath and try to relax my body. “You really haven’t shared your bed before?” she asks. I shake my head.

  Chapter Eight

  Eva

  My heart aches for Cree. How can anyone get to his age and never have experienced sharing a bed? “Because you don’t like being touched?” I ask. The fact he shared that little snippet of information makes me feel privileged. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I add.

  He side-eyes me, then tucks his hands behind his head and goes back to staring up at the ceiling. “I like my space. I hate talking,” he says. “That’s why I don’t share my bed.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  I go to turn over and he stops me. “No, I’m trying to explain,” he says, and I relax back onto my side. “But, yeah, I worry that you’ll relax in the night and you’ll touch me.”

  “I lay pretty still in my sleep,” I reassure him. “Is it all touching or just certain places?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been so long that I don’t even know what’s okay and what’s not anymore. I liked you putting your head on my shoulder just then when I carried you.”

  I try to contain the smile, but it slips out. “I wanna get over it,” he adds. “My shrink said to try and talk more. To women and stuff.” He reminds me of a teenager. He’s shy and embarrassed, and that’s not something I’ve seen since meeting these bikers. “Women that I like,” he continues.

  “That makes sense,” I say. “Have you told her about me?” I ask. “Have you told her how much I annoy you?”

  He smiles and shrugs his shoulders. “Stop putting words in my mouth. Where’s your dad?”

  “Erm,” I stutter. “I don’t have one. He’s never been around. It’s always been just me and Mum. Then Anna and Malia became part of our little circle too. Mum said he was a soldier. She met him in a nightclub and dated him for about six months, but when he found out she was pregnant, he ran a mile.”

  “Your mum’s nice,” he says.

  “She’s amazing. She’s more like my best friend than my mum. She gives me great advice.”

  “You’re lucky,” he says.

  “What about your mum?” I ask tentatively. I feel like this might be a question too far, but he half-smiles and I see the sadness in his face.

  “She wasn’t a good mum. I’d look at other mums and wonder why mine didn’t hug me or kiss me. She didn’t play or bake or even fuckin’ laugh. I never remember her laughing . . . ” He scrubs his hand over his face and then rakes his fingers through his hair. “She died. Drug overdose when I was thirteen.”

  I gasp. “Cree, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.” I have to fight with myself not to touch him to show him how sad that makes me.

  “After that, I took care of myself. I’d been doing it for thirteen years anyway.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “Same as you. Ran out when she got pregnant and never looked back. Her pimp told the social services that he was my dad. They never questioned him and that was that.”

  “So, your mum’s pimp raised you?”

  “No. He employed me. I became Mum’s replacement, sold drugs and shit.”

 
“No wonder you keep people at a distance,” I mutter. “How can anyone treat a kid like that?”

  “I’m never having kids. I’m not doing that to some poor defenceless kid,” he says firmly.

  “You can’t stop life, Cree. One day, you’ll fall in love and want those things. It happens.”

  He laughs to himself and shakes his head. “It doesn’t happen for people like me, Eva. I’m not good enough. This is my life. The club. My brothers.”

  “You’re so good with Ziggy. I’ve seen you.”

  At the mention of Ziggy, he grins wide. “I love that kid. He’s all I need. I can hand him back to Riggs at the end of the day and I can’t fuck up his life.”

  I fall silent. It breaks my heart that he’s given up on love and having kids. I know he’d make the best dad. Seeing this soft side of him makes me melt. I wish he was like this all the time. “When we had sex the other night, is that how you always have sex?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Without feeling? Emotion?”

  He glances at me and I feel like this is the first time he’s ever been pulled up on it. “I fuck, Eva. I don’t make love, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “You’re missing out on something so amazing. I mean, I haven’t ever made love to someone I actually love. I’ve never loved anyone like that. But I’ve had sex where it’s full of emotion and feelings. It’s amazing.”

  “It’s not for me,” he mutters.

  “Because you think you’re not worthy?” I ask, and he shrugs. “I work with kids just like you, Cree. They think they’re worthless and damaged. They’re not. You’re not. No one’s damaged beyond repair. Everything can be fixed with time and patience.”

  “Not me, darlin’. If you knew about me, the things I’ve done . . . ” He shakes his head and his lip curls slightly, like he’s disgusted with his own thoughts. “You’d see how fucked up I really am.”

  I pull the sheet up under my chin. “You’re wrong, Cree. I’m not giving up on you, and you’re not giving up on love. We’ll work it out together.” I yawn. “Challenge accepted,” I whisper before my eyes drift closed.

  I wake and my mouth is dry and tastes metallic. I squeeze my eyes shut in the hope I’ll drift back off so I can avoid the hangover I know will hit me hard. It’s then I realise my hand is on something hot and hard. I open one eye and Cree is staring down at my hand on his chest. I don’t move. He continues to stare, and I don’t think he’s realised I’m awake. I try my hardest to keep my breathing even. He hasn’t shoved my hand away and I reason that this must be a good sign. He carefully lifts his own hand and runs his pointy finger gently over mine. He traces each finger and stares like it’s alien to him. “Tie me up,” he whispers. When I don’t respond, he looks at me. “Tie me up and touch me.”

  “Is that a good idea? It might freak you out.”

  “Do it. Now.” I sit up and look around for something to tie him up with. “Rope. In my pocket,” he mutters, nodding to his jeans. I find it and kneel on the bed at his side. He rubs his thumb over my bare leg. “I like seeing my shirt on you.” He puts his hands above his head and I tie the rope around his wrists and through the bars of his headboard.

  “I really don’t think this is the way,” I mutter.

  “Straddle me,” he bosses, and I glare at him. “I’m not gonna do anything, I’m the one tied up.” He smirks. I throw my leg over him. “Right,” he says firmly. “Touch my chest.”

  “Why have I tied you up? Is that so you don’t beat the crap outta me?” I ask and he laughs.

  “Touch my chest.”

  “Are you likely to flip out?” I snap.

  “I asked you to tie me up so I don’t pin you down and fuck you. I like control.”

  I gasp. “Oh,” I mutter, and then I slowly and lightly place my hand on his chest. He sucks in a breath, and for a second, he looks pained. “Okay?” I ask and he nods a little too fast, making me think this is very far from okay. I place my other hand next to it and he bites on his lip.

  “Move them down my stomach.”

  “If this is all one big lie to get me to touch you up, then I’m gonna be real pissed,” I joke and he laughs, relaxing a little more under my touch. I lightly trail my hands down his chest and to his stomach.

  “Now, under my top,” he instructs. I eye him warily. “You said you wanted to help me, so help me.” I do as he says. His taut stomach clenches under my hands and I try to ignore the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach. I reach his tight chest muscles and try to keep my breathing under control. His body is perfect. He’s sculptured like a god.

  “I want to see your tattoos,” I say. He nods his head once and closes his eyes as I lift the shirt. The artwork over his skin is amazing and it’s hard to spot a clean patch of skin between the different skulls and such littering his body. I trace my fingers over the intricate designs, and after a few minutes, Cree opens his eyes and watches me. “Does it feel okay?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he chokes out, his voice low and full of emotion. “Will you show me?” he asks. When I look confused, he adds, “How to have that sex you like?”

  I almost choke. “You want me to show you how to have sex with emotion and meaning?”

  He nods his head. “I don’t know, Cree. It’s a little weird.”

  “You’re right. Sorry.” He looks lost again, so I mull over his suggestion. I like him. A lot. I didn’t see it until recently, but there’s something about this little lost look he has going on that melts me. The danger is, he’s got heartbreak written all over him, and I’m not sure I’m ready to have my heart smashed.

  I press my hands against his chest and lean down until my mouth is inches from his. “You’ve never let a girl tie you up?” I whisper, and he shakes his head. Something about his trust in me breaks down the reservations in my head and I press my lips against his. Our mouths mash together in a slow and sexy dance, and I love the fact that I’m in control of this. I trail the kisses along his jaw and down his neck. I can feel the bulge straining in his jeans and I smile wickedly at him as I take the kisses down his chest. He closes his eyes tight and I wait for him to yell at me to stop, but he doesn’t. I run my tongue over the ripped muscles, licking and nipping as I make my way down. I look up to see he’s watching me again. His hands are now gripping the rope tightly.

  I kneel between his legs and pop the button on his jeans. He lifts his ass and I tug them down to his thighs. “You ever let a girl do this?” I ask, releasing his erection. I hold the heavy, thick length in my hand.

  “Not for a long time,” he whispers. His eyes burn with fire when I move my hand up and down his shaft. I see the glistening bead of cum and rub my thumb over it. He watches as I pop the digit into my mouth and lick it clean.

  “If it’s too much or you want me to stop, just tell me,” I say and he nods his head. I settle between his legs and our eyes connect. I run my tongue up his impressive length and he takes a deep breath. His mouth falls open when I run my tongue around the head before sucking it into my mouth. I force him to the back of my throat until there’s no way I can take any more and then slowly release him. Cree closes his eyes, hissing and dropping his head back against the bed. I repeat the move, again and again, getting faster until he’s moaning and fidgeting beneath me.

  I stop and climb my way back up his body. I pull his face back to mine and kiss him.

  “Let me outta the ropes, Eva,” he pants. “I need to fuck you.”

  I smirk and shake my head. “Nuh-uh. I’m in charge, remember. Where’re the condoms?”

  “Drawer,” he groans. I reach over to his bedside drawer. The shirt I’m wearing lifts and I grin at the pain in his face knowing he can’t touch me. I rip the packet and roll the rubber down his shaft. “I don’t even wanna know where you learned to put one of these things on like a fuckin’ expert,” he mutters.

  I grin. “I’m a safe kinda girl,” I say.

  I position him at my entrance and then lea
n closer, pulling him in for another mouth-watering kiss. I sink down onto him slowly as I sweep my tongue into his mouth and he groans deep in his throat. The sounds he’s making turn me on, knowing I’m the reason for them. I brace my palms against his chest and begin to move. I rock back and forth, lifting my shirt over my head and dropping it to the floor. His eyes fix to my breasts and I grip them in my hands, tweaking my nipples until they’re hard and pointy. Then I place my hands on either side of his head and he takes my breast in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the erect bud.

  Cree

  I pull on the ropes, desperate for them to snap and free me. I’m going out of my mind here, and the urge to hold her down and fuck her senseless is overwhelming. Her pussy clenches me tightly and my eyes roll back in pleasure. She throws her leg over me and manages to turn herself around so I’m looking at the back of her. She lifts herself up and then slams down. A growl escapes me and my throat feels raw. She’s right—this is amazing.

  I watch her ass lift and slam down over and over. The sight of my cock disappearing inside of her, and the way she clenches me, sends me over the edge and I roar through my release. She shudders, her body shaking uncontrollably as she reaches her own orgasm.

  Eva climbs from me, removes the condom, and throws it in the trash. Then she kneels beside me to unfasten the rope. The second my hands are free, I grab her and throw her onto her back. She lets out a yelp, but my mouth smothers it and I thrust my tongue into her mouth. My emotions are high. She’s done so many things in the last ten hours that I’ve never thought possible.

  I reach for the drawer and take out a second condom. I keep her under me, kissing me, as I rip the packet open. Once it’s in place, I settle between her legs and sink straight back into her wet pussy. I’m so fuckin’ hard for her right now that I want to bury myself inside of her forever. I don’t flinch when she runs her hands over my shoulders and grips them to stop herself falling from the bed with each thrust. I want her hands on me. Only hers. But that thought unsettles me because I’ve never wanted anyone like I want Eva.