Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(35)

“Don’t land shit on me like that without warning, woman.”

She grinned. “I take it you dug that news.”

He cracked her ass twice more and her eyes shot wide then got lazy when he was done.

“He liked it,” she muttered like she wasn’t talking to him.

He pulled her hair back in two hands but only roped the long length around one, holding it to the back of her head and curling the fingers of his other hand around the side of her neck.

“You’ll get this one warning, Keely, just this one, baby. You need to be a lot more careful, yeah?”

He knew she knew exactly what he was saying when something stole over her face, a look of surprise chased with a feminine satisfaction so profound, no way unless she worked him up to it again his cock could get hard, but witnessing that look, he wondered if that was true.

It was then Hound knew he wasn’t in too deep.

He was totally fucked.

And for some reason he wasn’t sure about but it pleased him the same as it made him uneasy, he knew she was glad about that.

“I hear you,” she said.

“You sure?” he asked.

She brushed her mouth against his. “I’m sure, Hound.”

“We done for tonight?” he asked, because he never thought he’d think it, but he needed a break.

“Fuck no. Cold chicken is awesome chicken.”

Her chicken couldn’t be bad unless it was coated in a layer of shit.

“And we haven’t eaten the brookies,” she finished.

“You’re gettin’ that shit,” he replied, unwinding his fist from her hair. “I’m recuperating.”

She gave him a sassy smile that was almost as much as a turn on as the other one.

“I can do that,” she said, beginning to slide him out.

His arm around her waist grew tight.

“And bring me a beer.”

“Beer and brookies?”

“Beer goes with everything.”

“Only in Hound’s world.”

He let his eyeballs dart side to side before he said, “Where you think you are, woman?”

That got him a beam.

Yep.

Totally.

Fucked.

She slid off.

Then she cleaned up.

Then she brought cold chicken, brookies and beer.

They ate it in his bed.

And before she left, they fucked again.

It was magnificent.

And he wasn’t just talking about the brookies.



The next afternoon, Hound lay on his back in his bed at the Compound where he’d connected to the Wi-Fi and downloaded a song to his phone.

He already had “Jeremy.”

Earphones in his ears, he listened to it four times, wondering how Keely, who got so much so soon and lost it so ugly, could go to school every day and deal with that kind of shit.

He then listened to “Use Me” four times.

And he had proof that Jean had not lost any of her mental faculties.

Even so, not knowing Keely, she hadn’t hit it right.

But listening to the words, he still took her point.

He was a man drowning and he knew that shit.

He also knew he didn’t care.

Jean worried.

His brothers would be seriously pissed at him. They shared women, but no old ladies, not ever.

Though back in the day, Chew had fucked one of Crank’s ex’s, that “ex” being legally untied after being legally tied, and Crank had lost his mind even though she was no longer his to claim.

The circumstances weren’t the same, but Chew had felt the displeasure of the rest of the brothers and Hound knew it bit deep. So deep Hound sometimes wondered if no one taking Chew’s back on that was one of the reasons he’d renounced the Club.

But this wasn’t that.

This was Keely.

And for his brothers, it would only be about Black.

He had shit to do with Club business, the mess they were in with Bounty, and there was Benito Valenzuela, who had been fucking with them for years and was not exactly behind the kidnap of Millie but he’d sent men out to freak her shit, they just took it too far (and got dead because of it, apparently Valenzuela wasn’t hip on his soldiers fucking up) but he was still responsible.

But Hound had spent months trying to get a lock on Valenzuela, who had disappeared (though his operation was still running smoothly, so they knew he wasn’t gone), or trying to find a way in to find him and use his unique way to stop him, or put the screws to one of his higher ups to unravel his organization from the inside out.

He just kept coming up empty.

He should be concentrating on that. All the old ladies had constant vigilance from brothers because the men were so tweaked about what happened to Millie, High and Tack most of all. High for obvious reasons. Tack because Cherry had been taken by an enemy years ago and nearly died of the stab wounds he’d inflicted. Tack didn’t mind making it clear those flashbacks were unwelcome and he wanted this business they’d been fucking around with for years done so they could all rest easy.

Hound needed to focus on something other than drowning in Keely.

On that thought, his phone went with a text.

It was from Keely.

Eight. I’m bringing Irish stew. The American kind without lamb but with big hunks of beef. Don’t tell the Irish and don’t have dinner because it sticks to your ribs. See ya later, cowboy.