Sinner's Revenge (Sinner's Creed MC #2)(44)

I don’t know why, but I can’t wait to hold her. I want to kiss her soft and slow and hold her so close to me that our bodies mold together into one. I don’t want to just f*ck her. I don’t want to fight or argue or make deals . . . I don’t want to think about Death Mob, or the consequences of my actions or Sinner’s Creed. I only want one thing.

Pulling her dress down, I grab her hand and tuck her into my side. She rides there, her head on my shoulder until we get home. She’s asleep when we arrive so I carry her in. Then I strip her down, clean her up, and finally give myself what I’ve really been waiting for all night.

It’s not a quick f*ck. It’s not her ass that she’d never given to anyone else. It’s the simplest thing that I never thought I’d ever want. Now it’s all I can think about. The one thing I’ve been waiting for since I woke up this morning is the one thing I can’t get soon enough . . . just me and Diem in my bed.


*

We’re eating cereal, in bed, naked, the next morning when she asks, “You wanna tell me what happened last night?”

I shovel another spoonful of cereal in my mouth, not meeting her eyes. “I don’t like bullies,” I mumble.

“Well you don’t have a problem bullying me.”

Nudging her shoulder with mine, I give her a wink. “That’s because I don’t like you, gorgeous. But Mick I consider a friend.”

Taking her bowl from her hand, I turn it up, finishing off the milk before getting out of bed. Something, a shoe I think, hits me in the back as I make my way to the kitchen.

“The milk is the best part, you bully,” she says, but I can hear the smile in her voice. And I’m thankful that she doesn’t push the issue further. I don’t know what I’d tell her. And I don’t want to lie.

Standing at the sink, I look out into my backyard, wishing I wouldn’t have taken all of the beauty of this place for granted. I never know when it’s going to end. I was playing with fire last night. Chances are, I was fixing to get burned. As if they could sense my uneasiness, I hear my phone ringing and find Nationals’ number flashing across the screen.

“Yeah?”

“Jackpot. Tomorrow. Check your calendar.” Jimbo hangs up in my ear, and my brain goes into overdrive wondering what event is happening tomorrow. And how in the hell I forgot. If I had it on my calendar, it must be important.

Diem is in the shower, so I lock my bedroom door and dig the small notebook out of the back of my safe. Sinner’s Creed lives by many codes. If the feds were to ever raid my home, they would find plenty linking me to the club. But the information they found could not be decoded by anyone other than a brother. Not even ol’ ladies know the codes. It’s in the bylaws.

The month is June, which is July for Sinner’s Creed. Tomorrow is the sixteenth, but to us it’s the second. I hold my breath while I open the small datebook. It could be anything—a hit, a benefit, a delivery . . . Whatever it is, isn’t what has me nervous. It’s how long I’m gonna be gone.

Diem flashes in my mind. I can hear her on the other side of the wall. Her body naked and wet and in my shower. I don’t want to leave her for long periods of time. But, if the club tells me to, I will. And there will be no regrets, no doubt, and not a second thought if what we have has to end. My club comes first. Always and forever.

I scan the pages, running my finger down the dates until I come to tomorrow’s. A slow smile creeps across my face as relief floods through my veins.

Chaps. B.

It’s Chaps’s birthday. A hell of a reason to celebrate. Two days of partying. Two days with my brothers. Two days where nothing else matters but commemorating the life of one of our own. Two days and I would be back here with her. And I haven’t even left, but already, I miss her.


*

“What you so pissed off about?” Tanner, the San Antonio sergeant at arms, asks me the next night. I’d given them back their rockers, and now I guess he feels like we were pals.

We aren’t.

I’m not in the mood to make new friends. I’m not even in the mood for the couple I have. My mind is clouded with thoughts of Diem. I want to be with her. I want to be Zeke—the man that allowed a woman to invade his home and try to control his life. For some reason, I actually like being that man.

“Another,” I tell the slut behind the bar. A few months ago, I’d be banging the shit outta her. But right now, I find her almost repulsive. Too easy. Too fake. Too cheap. Too not like Diem.

“It’s really none of my business, but I know a thing or two about relationships if you wanna talk.” I glare at Tanner, hoping he gets the message. He doesn’t. “I got three baby mamas, and a wife. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

I want to kill him. But I can’t. He’s my brother. So I just get up and walk away, mumbling my opinion of him on the way out. “Yeah, Tanner. Sounds like you’re a real f*cking hero.”

I move to the patio, trying to escape my thoughts of Diem. But, even here with the booze, naked women and blunts, I still can’t get her out of my head. It goes back to when I told her I was leaving. I’d forgotten that we’d made plans to go out. I’d asked her on a date during a moment of weakness yesterday. I can’t seem to shake the conversation or the vision of her holding a pair of the sexiest black heels I’d ever seen in her hand.