Caught

Grave diggers MC

Book 1.5

By Michelle Woods

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, groups and incident are products of author’s imagination or are used in a non-factual manner and are not to be construed as real. Any events, organizations, or persons depicted are entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2017 Michelle Woods

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations in critical reviews and articles. For more information or to request permission contact: michelle.woods325@gmail.com

Copyright © 2015 Shutterstock/images

All Rights Reserved

Edited by: Patricia Baker Edits4less

Edited by: Theresa Banschbach   www. icanedit4u.com

Produced by: Woods Publishing & Design Inc.

www.woodspublishinganddesign.com/

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter One

He yanked at the collar of his shirt, glancing around the little picnic area. Hell, there sure were a lot of civvies here today. His throat closed up again and he wanted to rip his shirt off and toss it to the ground—or into a fire. Dang, why was this damned thing so tight? He tugged again—sure that he was getting a rash. It was like his neck was wrapped in a sausage casing that was three sizes too small. He glanced around at the people surrounding him, feeling hemmed in.

He didn’t want to be here.

Fuck, this was torture. What in the hell had possessed him to say yes to his mom when she’d asked him to come to this thing? He didn’t fucking know, but it had been a mistake, that was for damned sure. Okay, maybe Gunner knew why, but he didn’t want to admit it. His mom had given him that pleading look of hers last weekend while he was at her house and he’d caved. He needed to grow a pair and stop giving into her every time she gave him that look. If he’d done that last weekend, he wouldn’t be here now suffering this torment. A little shudder ran down his spine. If one more chick came up to him and asked if he was coming to church on Sunday, he was going to lose his shit.

This staid picnic wasn’t his scene—not at all. In his world, a picnic like this included a bonfire and half-naked women. Not these buttoned-up, limp-dicked men and women showing less skin than an Islamic country. He winced slightly at the thought, feeling like an asshole for even thinking that because he knew the thought was racist. His mother was the only one he’d suffer this torture for. If it wasn’t for her—and that sad little pleading look she’d given him—he would be at the clubhouse or maybe out on a run. He was such a sucker. When she asked him to come to her church picnic for like the tenth time, he hadn’t been able to say no, mostly because he was an idiot.

Even as he’d agreed, he’d cringed. Gunner knew his saying yes had made her happy and she was the only parent he had left—which meant here he was at this picnic, staring at thirty men who were so buttoned-up they looked like they were auditioning to be Mormons. He didn’t know how they were wearing ties with those shirts. He couldn’t even fathom wearing one—even the thought made him fidget and tug at his collar as he watched the gathered people standing around socializing. He was strangled with just the light blue button-up his mother had asked him to wear. Adding a tie would likely have cut off his circulation and inevitably killed him.

He needed to get a grip on this negativity because he’d agreed to be polite—but he hadn’t realized it would be his own personal hell. Standing in the middle of this mess of civvies, thinking about adding collars to Chaos’s torture box, he wished he had balls. If he did, he could have ignored that look and moved on with his life.

Gunner knew these women that kept coming up to him, smiling coyly and asking about his plans for church on Sunday for the past forty minutes, would likely run for the hills if they knew who he really was. In their minds, they were already lining him up to be another one of these vanilla men who inhabited this picnic. Yeah, not fucking happening. They were out of luck, despite his mother’s joining their Pentecostal lifestyle, he wasn’t interested. He wasn’t about to join the ranks of these obviously repressed dudes.

He would bet more than half of them jacked off to porn in the garage because they didn’t want their wives or girlfriends to know they weren’t eunuchs. He wasn’t knocking their choices, if they wanted this life, then more power to them, but it wasn’t for him. He was grateful the church had been there for his mother when she’d needed them. They had made her feel safe and loved when she’d felt lost after he’d left home. She hadn’t really been okay for the four years before she’d joined. It was like his growing up left a hole in her life and this church had filled it for her. He knew that who he’d become had frightened her.

Honestly, his mom had been in denial about who he really was for years. She’d introduced him as ‘my son, Brandon’ like a dozen times today and all he could think was, my name is Gunner, Mom. It was the name he’d been given by his brothers in the Grave Diggers MC when he’d joined five years ago. Back then, he’d been a messed-up youth, lost, and unmoored despite his mother’s attempts to tame him.

She’d done her best, but working two jobs while trying to raise a teenager with anger issues hadn’t been easy. It was likely why she’d ended up at this church a year ago. She’d been looking for a way to fix him, unsure where she’d gone wrong. Gunner tried to tell her that him joining an MC wasn’t her fault, but she was sure she’d done something wrong and nothing convinced her otherwise. Despite her dislike of the club, she never bugged him about it. She wasn’t one of those mothers who harped on him every minute trying to get him to straighten up and stop being who he was like Buck’s mom or Topper’s sister.

Nope, she just prayed.

Gunner didn’t want to feel bad about that but he did—just not enough to change his lifestyle for her. Being a part of the Diggers MC was the reason he hadn’t gone to jail years ago. Not that he hadn’t had some close calls while with the Diggers. Their life wasn’t free of dirty deeds, some of which would be likely to land him in the slammer, but he was less likely to get caught these days than he had been before he’d joined.

He had been seventeen when he’d robbed his first house and twenty-one when he’d tried to steal a car for the local chop shop, but he’d been caught. Luckily, he was caught by Choke and he’d been offered a job instead of jail time. He took the job and five years later he was now twenty-six and part of the largest biker club in Arizona. He’d received his bottom rockers when he was twenty-three and had been a trusted member of the club for a little over a year. Being trusted meant more money in his pocket and less of the shit runs.

He felt a trickle of sweat run down his neck, so he leaned a little to the left trying to sink further into the shade of a nearby tree. His hand rubbed across the back of his neck where it itched, trying not to tug at the collar again, unsuccessfully—his fingers straining the already abused top button.

“Stop pulling at your collar, Brandon,” Martha Jacobs hissed from beside him, earning a sideways look and a quick nod. He’d felt her walk up beside him a moment ago while he was contemplating the picnic, but had waited for her to speak.

“Come over here and meet Maryann and her daughter, Lisa. They’re both very sweet, you might like Lisa, she’s about your age.” Martha was motioning towards two women setting up the large table of food, which meant he was getting closer to busting out of this hell.

Umm, no Ma, I won’t like her if she goes to this church full of believers. Gunner didn’t say it aloud, not wanting to hurt her feelings. She was a kind woman who didn’t really understand him well because she couldn’t mesh the little boy with skinned knees, with the dark man he’d become. He stared down at the top of her head feeling a little guilty again.

Martha was about short, with greying black hair, a little more weight than was healthy, and a belly laugh that made babies weep with envy. In other words, his mother was amazing. She was always willing to help others, even when they didn’t deserve it or were too caught up in their own shit to thank her. Fuck, now he was a poet—he couldn’t help the snort that escaped him at that thought.

Gunner knew that she’d tried to straighten his life out when he’d started getting into trouble, but sometimes even great parenting couldn’t turn a kid around. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try to steer a child away from bad decisions, they still make them. He wasn’t saying that he was a bad man. Gunner didn’t beat women up and his club wasn’t into trading flesh. They didn’t sell to kids and marijuana was the hardest drug they had ran for the past two years. He was no angel, and half the people here would judge him harshly if they knew the truth, but he was his own man and that was what mattered to him. Anyone who didn’t like it could go to hell for all he cared. His mom was the only one who he tried to rein it in for.

“Sure,” he said, trying not to grimace as he followed her over to where the two women were standing. Thank God, this day was almost over he thought, as Martha smiled at them before jerking on his arm to pull him up beside her. The irony of thanking God for getting this day over with didn’t escape him, making his lips curl into a cold smile.

“Maryann, Oh Maryann,” Martha called in a singsong voice as they neared the woman and her daughter. Standing beside Martha he was already regretting the fifteen to thirty minutes he’d have to spend with Lisa to make his mother happy.

Lisa wasn’t a bad looking woman. She had platinum blonde hair, nicely shaped tits, and a lot of leg, which surprisingly, she wasn’t afraid to show off—at least to about one inch above her knee. He almost laughed at what she likely thought was a risqué display of leg. If he told anyone at this picnic about the amount of skin he normally seen daily, he’d likely end up needing a dozen ambulances.

“Maryann, have you met my son, Brandon?” Martha asked, her face a little flushed from the rush over to the two women. Maryann, a sour-faced woman with the same platinum hair as her daughter and a thin frame, smiled wanly at them. Gunner noted that when she regarded him, her eyes swept up and then back down before she settled on his face with that same wan smile on her lips, her eyes narrowed in a scary sort of consideration.

Uh-oh, that was the look of a mother thinking to marry him off to her daughter. If she only knew about his real lifestyle, him marrying her daughter would be the last fantasy that played through her head. A little snort escaped him, which he hid by pretending to cough. He was sure that Maryann would be fitting Lisa for a chastity belt while trying to fend him off with a spoon if she ever discovered that Martha’s baby boy—his mother’s words not his—was a biker. From the calculating look Maryann had tossed his way, he’d bet his mother told her that her son owned a restaurant.

Although that was technically true—he’d bought an Italian restaurant a little over two years ago. He’d updated the menu and changed the food from Italian to American cuisine, adding three private dining rooms, one for the club and two were for rent. He didn’t manage it himself, he had a management team for that, who handled everything. He just collected his earnings. Considering Maryann and Lisa for a moment, he mentally began calculating the amount of time he’d have to make small talk with them to avoid upsetting his mother.

“I haven’t, it’s so nice to meet you finally.” Her voice held an edge that stirred his ire a little because it was obvious she was poking at his mother for not bringing him to an event sooner.

Gunner had turned down more than a dozen invites to events just like this one over the past year because he didn’t want to deal with the very bullshit he was currently dealing with—her and her daughter, whom she likely thought was perfect. Gunner was sure that wasn’t the case. If there was one thing Gunner understood, it was women. He’d always had a knack for understanding them even as a much younger man. Maybe it stemmed from being a single mother’s male child, or maybe it was a God-given gift that he’d been born with. He didn’t know or care how he could see through them, he just did. Which meant he understood the jab she’d just delivered to his mother was intended to wound her and he didn’t like it one damned bit.

“Indeed, Mother’s been trying to get me to come to one of these for months.” Gunner’s voice was firm and his eyes cold as they met hers. Maryann huffed a little and shrugged before grabbing her daughter’s arm, pulling her forward. He would bet she was also mentally debating if introducing them was a good idea when she paused, gazing at him. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head and he wasn’t surprised when the idea of winning her daughter a rich husband had won over her spiteful nature.

“Well, it’s nice of you to come. You and Lisa are around the same age you know. She’s just graduated with honors from beauty school.” Maryann trumpeted, making her daughter shift a little as she winced.

“I was just top of the class, mom. I didn’t have any honors.”

“It’s the same thing.” Her mother insisted.

Yeah, no, it wasn’t.

Even if it had been, to him it mattered less than shit on a baboon’s butt. Gunner wanted to walk away, but he caught his mother’s hopeful look. Damn, his mother’s only goal lately seemed to be getting him married and filling her house with grandbabies. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that babies were about as likely as him joining this church. He’d had a vasectomy three years ago because he never wanted kids brought into the life he led. He wasn’t okay with the danger aspect of his life being pushed onto a helpless kid, who would likely have issues similar to his own. It would break her heart to know he had that surgery, but condoms—which he still used faithfully—weren’t foolproof.

“Well, why don’t you two kids talk. Martha and I need to see about the drinks.” Maryann hooked her arm into his mother’s and dragged her away. Not that she attempted to stay, but Gunner really didn’t have any interest in Lisa. Church-going ladies were not his thing.

“Geez, could they be any more obvious?” Lisa asked, rolling her eyes and earning a bit of a smile from him.

“I’m sure they could if they tried,” Gunner muttered, a slight snort leaving him.

“I don’t mean to break your heart here,” Lisa added dryly, her smile a little wicked. “but I have a boyfriend, Mother just doesn’t approve.”

“Thank God, I was dreading another half hour trying not to hurt your feelings as I politely steered the conversation away from us being a couple.” Gunner felt a genuine smile curl his lips.

“Ha, I bet you have had to steer these nincompoops away from that conversation. How do you stand it? I was ready to slap a sticker on my forehead that said in a relationship from the moment I arrived here with Mom. She has been trying to set me up with any man here because my boyfriend is a drummer in a local band and she hates him. If I have to talk to one more idiot who thinks I’m ready to be his obedient ‘wifey’ I will go insane.” Lisa laughed a high tinkling sound. Gunner couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips because Lisa was the first person at this gathering that didn’t annoy the fuck out of him.

“Yeah. I was thinking a neon flashing sign that said ‘uninterested’ would be right for me.” Gunner felt his tense shoulders loosen, it was nice to let his guard down and have a normal conversation.

“You don’t need it, your face screams it and I’m sure most of the dumbasses here see it but they’re just ignoring it. It was how I knew I could just come right out and say I was taken the second I was alone with you. The women here are all brainwashed into thinking they should act like a simpering fool in order to find a ‘nice’ man. It’s pathetic,” Lisa snorted, her head shaking as she glanced around the picnic.

“You’re not really a part of this church, are you?” Gunner asked because he knew from his mother’s obsessive reminders that cussing was considered a sin in her circle, therefore Lisa was likely not as devout. He knew religious beliefs were nothing to poke fun at, but sometimes he just wasn’t sure how to handle it. He had never been very good at understanding faith.

“Lord, don’t tell my mother, but no, not anymore. I stopped believing that I had to bend to a man and subvert my whole self to be godly when I was twenty-two and started beauty college. That’s where I met Tim, my boyfriend. He came in to get his hair cut one day and we hit it off. He makes quite a living off his music, which isn’t going to make him rich, but he loves it. And before you judge him, he has an engineering degree that he can fall back on if the music stops paying the bills, so it’s not like he’s a loser. We’ve been together for over two years, but Mom won’t even give him a chance.” Lisa sighed, her hands busy rearranging the napkins on the table. She was putting them into neat little rows that were all even and spoke to OCD issues if he had to guess. He wasn’t unfamiliar with those issues, as he had OCD himself and couldn’t imagine dating someone with the same problem. They would likely kill each other because one would line up the napkins one way and the other would come along and redo it because it was slightly off. Geez, that would end up being a never-ending cycle.

“Ah, well, you won’t hear me judging and if she knew the truth about my life she’d really hate me as your boyfriend.” Gunner let out a strained chuckle, shaking his head.

“Oooh, sounds juicy. Dish, why would she hate you?” Lisa asked, her brows wiggling. He debated for a moment, glancing around to see who was close enough to hear their conversation before answering because he didn’t want his mother treated poorly because of who he ran with.

“I’m a rider for the Diggers MC.” Gunner whispered, deciding to trust her discretion.

“No shit?” Gunner nodded when she sent him a questioning look.

“Wow, she really would have a hissy fit over that,” Lisa said laughing. “And to think she is all bent about Tim. I won’t tell her, but if I could, I can just see the look of abject horror on her face.”

Gunner shared her laughter and the two of them spent another thirty minutes chatting; both appreciating the chance to let down their guard and be themselves for a few minutes. It didn’t last long because as soon as the food was served, they were forced to socialize with other people. Gunner got his plate and decided to see if he could find a quiet place to breathe for a moment. His mother had introduced him to three more women and two of them were particularly annoying. He needed a minute to just calm down so he didn’t end up telling them to fuck off when they approached him.

He spotted Lisa talking to a man as he walked away from the socializing groups. She crossed her eyes looking at her nose when she noticed him. Gunner chuckled, silently asking if she needed help getting rid of the guy with a little shrug and a bit of pointing. Lisa shook her head motioning for him to escape. He nodded heading off towards a little bench he saw over by a cropping of trees nearby. Gunner wasn’t one to play knight-in-shining-armor to any woman’s damsel-in-destress. If she didn’t want help, he wasn’t offering it. Wanting to avoid the people at the nearby tables, he walked around to sit beneath the tree, rather than on the bench.

He began to eat some of the dumplings he’d gotten from the table, groaning because they were damned good. He tucked in eating most of the food he’d piled on his plate while periodically taking sips of the lemonade, wishing it was something stronger. Anything to get him through the rest of this picnic. He would likely have to stay at least another forty minutes before he could make his escape from this living nightmare.

Reaching up, he tugged at the cloth prison that his neck was still begging to escape from and set his plate aside. He’d left a few scraps on it, but that was it. He leaned his head back into the tree, about to get in a little catnap when he heard Katy Perry belting out Firework. Shocked at the sound of the music from this stuffed shirt group he glanced around the tree looking for the source.

“Damn, damn, stop. Oh God, please stop.” A soft tantalizing, almost sensual voice hissed from inside the thick bushes beside him. His cock twitched in his pants, its interest piqued by the erotic sound. Gunner raised a brow as he peered into the brush trying to see the woman who went with that sexy as fuck voice.

Chapter Two

She felt like a moron. She was hiding in a bush for cripes’ sake. For over thirty minutes, she’d been playing a game on her phone trying to distract herself from this ridiculous excuse for a picnic. She let out a little snort, because to her mother this was a meat market—not a picnic. Margo had heard about nearly every man in attendance. She wasn’t surprised, her mother collected her information from various mothers, sisters, and even the men themselves. Margo was lucky she hadn’t asked them for their penis size. Of course, to her mother sex was a sin unless it was between a husband and wife.

If she only knew that Margo wasn’t a virgin and hadn’t been since high school, she’d likely faint dead away from horrified shock. Margo reached down bending a stick that was poking her in the back, breaking it off and tossing it away. She was a normal woman with needs, but Margo knew if she’d tried to tell her overly-religious mother that, she would freak. It wasn’t like Margo was promiscuous, but she’d had her fair share of relationships and they’d included sex.

Her mother thought she was still the same kid she’d sent off to Yale four years ago. Margo wasn’t that wide-eyed, way-too-young kid, who’d graduated high school a year early and headed off to college with a full scholarship. Somehow, she’d still found a way to disappoint her mother even by attending Yale a year before she was supposed to and graduating with honors. Margo scratched her neck, her ability to care about her mother’s displeasure with her only living daughter had burned away long ago.

Margo’s appalling secret that had shamed her mother eternally—she’d majored in art. It really shouldn’t have caused her mother embarrassment, but according to her, it did. Nothing Margo did was ever good enough for Helen Dexter. Margo had learned that lesson long before she’d went off to college. Whatever—she was done seeking her mother’s approval and always coming up short. Margo decided before she left home that her mother was beyond pleasing and she needed to do what she loved. Art soothed her, and her love for it led her to get a bachelor’s degree in fine arts. Now she could paint and teach art at the local community college three nights a week. It wasn’t what her mother had wanted for her, which was why she was trying to push Margo to find a husband so she could at the very least get a dozen grandchildren. Only the joke was on her because Margo couldn’t have children.

Margo felt a sting in her eyes, but refused to give in to the feelings of inadequacy that her emergency hysterectomy still caused. She’d been nineteen when she’d missed several periods and realized she was pregnant. She’d been so happy, despite her boyfriend’s lack of reasonability and his leaving her, at least for about three weeks.

That was when she’d miscarried. Margo still remembered the pain that tore through her and the horrified realization that she’d just lost her baby. Even two years later, she wasn’t over the hurt that night had caused her. It broke her heart that she’d never get to try again because that night, despite trying, the doctors couldn’t stop the bleeding. Her uterus had prolapsed. It was what had caused the miscarriage to begin with, and when they’d run out of options they’d taken her uterus to save her life.

She wasn’t sorry they had saved her, she didn’t want to be dead, but it still hurt that she’d never be able to offer children to the man she loved. It would be a heartbreaking conversation to have with that fictional man she would love. She felt a tear slide down her cheek and dashed it away with her sleeve. Enough, she told her circling thoughts. She’d gotten off the real reason for her ire, her mother. Helen Dexter’s wacky way of looking at the world meant her daughter must be a virgin. 

Ha, as if.

Seeing what was right in front of her face wasn’t Helen’s strong suit and never had been. Helen’s idea about how the world worked was the reason Margo had been forced to take out her nose ring and change out of her normal punky goth style clothing. Margo liked her style that she’d created while she was in art school, adding funky pieces to the loud plaids and black clothing she loved. Her mother hated everything she wore. When Margo had arrived at her house today, she’d forced Margo to strip and put on this green dress that reached her ankles and gave her skin a sickly green hue. Helen Dexter had then demanded that she remove her nose ring and jewelry because Margo was a Dexter and Dexter’s did not look like devil worshipers. The last bit was due to a skull ring she’d had on and Margo had only rolled her eyes at the ridiculous comment. Thankfully, her mother didn’t know that the streaks of blue in Margo’s dirty blond hair weren’t permanent or she’d have had her in the shower washing it out before they came here.

Allowing her mother to force her into this dress had been a mistake, but she still felt guilty that she hadn’t told Helen about her miscarriage or the resulting infertility it had caused. That guilt was why she was here today, truthfully. She’d wanted to refuse her mother because she hated these church functions, and had since she was ten. That was the day Jonny Landry had called her fat. Margo had hated being called that. She wasn’t fat then, nor was she now. She was pleasingly plump. She carried a few more pounds than was currently in fashion, but she was only a size ten. If society’s standards weren’t so skewed, she’d be perfect.

At least some part of her wasn’t fake today, her blue streaked hair was still hers. She could claim that at least. She glanced at the time, hoping the next hour would hurry the hell up. She wanted to go home and sitting in these bushes was getting old fast. She heard a rustling sound and peeked out of the bush to see a man wearing a light blue shirt and khaki pants sit down near her hiding spot. Damn, she really hoped he wouldn’t see her. She shifted a little trying to be sure she could only see him through a small opening in the brush. At least this horrid green dress was good for something—blending in with the trees around her. She snorted looking out at the man.

Margo wasn’t in the mood to deal with another man from this church today. She wasn’t joining her mother’s restrictive lifestyle and that’s what every man here seemed to want. She peeked out as the man sat down. He looked to be about six feet tall, with large muscular shoulders that looked almost too broad, and his skin—what she could see of it—was tanned a golden brown that reminded her of bronze. His cheekbones were chiseled and rugged-looking and his lips were slightly thinner than they should be. From where she was, she couldn’t tell if it was a scar along his jaw, or a bit of dust. Her heart picked up a little as she suddenly imagined painting him and not in that shirt either.

A little smile curled her lips, her nudes were another source of shame for her mother—who still insisted that she should be more like Holly, her deceased older sister, who’d died in a plane crash on her way back from a two-year mission trip. Holly had been the perfect Dexter according to her mother. She’d been seven years older than Margo and she’d died when Margo was fifteen. Margo, on the other hand, had never measured up to her mother’s standards. Not even when she’d been trying to be the perfect daughter. As a young teen, Margo had worked hard in school, joined the church’s youth group, and lost weight to the point of almost becoming anorexic, but none of it seemed to matter. She’d still been found lacking by her mother. 

She studied the back of the man’s head, her mind a million miles away. Her distracted brain noticed a spider tattoo peeking from the back of the man’s collar when he reached up pulling at it roughly. She was surprised it didn’t rip since he was tugging at it so hard. Margo leaned forward a bit, trying to get a better view of the man. As she did, a teasing aroma of her aunt Marie’s chicken and dumplings tugged at her nose, making her mouth water.

Margo felt her stomach growl and wondered if she should crawl out of the bush and chance getting something to eat. Only the remembrance of Kevin—a skinny man with beady eyes, that made her think he might be a child molester or maybe a stalker, kept her hidden. He’d asked her three times when she was going to join the church mixers that they had for singles. After the second misdirect hadn’t worked, she’d dodged that question and any more he had planned for her by claiming she needed the restroom and escaped to her current hiding place. It was kind of sad really, she was currently hiding in a bush trying not to deal with her mother’s insane matchmaking. Her stomach twisted making the decision for her. 

Margo leaned forward peeking at the food when he paused. Crap, did he hear her? How would she explain her presence in the bushes? Dang, she’d have to wait till he left so she didn’t embarrass herself by crawling out of the bushes. She could see it now, her crawling from the bush and nodding to him. “Don’t mind me. I was just hiding here to get away from all the idiots at this picnic.”

Yeah, that would be perfect. He’d think she was an asshole—or worse, insane. Not that she cared, she just didn’t want to hear her mother go into hysterics and complain about how Margo had embarrassed her again. Guilt only went so far and hers was already wearing thin. She knew from experience that pleasing her mother was impossible. After almost twenty-two years of not being good enough for her, Margo didn’t bother to try anymore.

She settled back, hoping he ate in a hurry and left because she was so hungry she was tempted to steal his plate. Margo felt a smile tug at her lips at the thought of the large man’s reaction to that. Would he grumble or stare in shock? Hmm…the thought of him rumbling out a husky protest made her body tingle in places that hadn’t seen action in more than a year.

Margo shook herself and sat back down, she needed to get a grip. She didn’t want anything to do with a man who went to this church. She forced herself to look at her phone, hitting restart on the Candy Crush level she was playing. Her stomach was temporarily distracted by her concentration on the game which was frustrating her. Suddenly, she heard fireworks—her best friend’s ringtone—blare out of her phone making her jump, shaking the bushes.

“Crap, crap, stop. Oh God, please stop.” She hissed trying to shut it off before the man nearby heard it, but from the way his head whipped toward her position in the bush, she was too late. Why did Zoey have to call right now? He was staring hard at the bushes with his brow raised for a long moment before he spoke.

“You know if you’re hiding, you should really silence your ringtone.” The man’s whiskey smooth voice stated as he peered into the brush trying to get a look at her. Sinking back further into the bushes not wanting him to see her, she felt her cheeks heat.

“Thanks for the tip,” she muttered, her temper rising to the surface at the snarky comment. Her hand shoved her phone back in her pocket hoping he would leave and give her a chance to escape with some of her dignity intact.

“Sure thing,” he said, as he leaned back against the tree closing his eyes. Margo thought maybe it was over and she’d just been dismissed when he didn’t say anything for about ten minutes.

Just when she was about to release her tensed muscles and relax, his hard voice broke the silence. “You going to come out of there?”

“No,” Margo snapped, her eyes narrowed.

“Huh, who you are hiding from, sugar?” he grunted after another one of those long pauses.

“Is that any of your concern? No, it’s not. I’m hiding, that means it’s my business,” Margo muttered, her hands pressing down on the ground making the leaves rustle. She clenched her jaw, trying not to tell him that he was a jerk and needed to leave. She stopped herself from making that demand because she could already tell he’d be more likely to stay, just to annoy her.

“You’re a snippy little thing, aren’t you?” he observed, his eyes on the bush, his look thoughtful.

“I am not. And how do you know I’m little? I could be ten feet tall for all you know.”

“No, you’re definitely snippy. As for being ten feet tall we both know that’s not possible with the size of that bush you’re hiding in. If you weren’t little you’d never be able to hide in there. You know they’ve brought out the food, right?” he asked, still looking thoughtful.

“I know.” Margo felt her stomach twist again at the thought of food. Darn it, she really was hungry.

“Not hungry, or not willing to come out of hiding?” he asked her, his face split by a slight grin.

“The second.” She allowed to slip out unwillingly.

“Tell me why you’re hiding and I might be tempted to get you a plate.” He offered, his hand rising to tug at his collar again.

“Why don’t you just unbutton that collar?” Margo couldn’t help her curious response to his constant tugging.

“My mother would be disappointed if I did.”

“I won’t tell her if you go get me a plate of the dumplings my aunt brought.” Margo bargained.

“Nope. I told you what I wanted to go get you a plate and you haven’t offered up anything yet.”

“Why do you want to know?” She demanded, her hand rubbing a spot on her leg that itched. Something must have bitten her because it was itching like crazy.

“Call me curious. Just want to know why anyone would hide in the bushes.”

“Aren’t you hiding behind a tree? This isn’t any of your business.” Margo knew what she’d said was bitchy but she was hiding in the bushes because she didn’t want to deal with men at this picnic and she didn’t want to tell this bronzed hottie that. 

“Okay, well. Have fun,” he said, but he didn’t get up and leave. He just leaned against the tree with his eyes closed again; his arms positioned behind his head. Margo waited for about ten minutes before she couldn’t take it anymore and growled.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

“Nope.”

“Why not? Don’t you have something to do?” Margo couldn’t believe how shrill her voice was. She was normally pretty patient and she was rarely shrewish. Something about this man annoyed her. He just rubbed her the wrong way and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

“Not today,” he grunted, a smile twisting his hard-male lips as he continued to lie back on the tree, as if he had nothing to be concerned about.

“Fine. Some idiots think I would be the perfect wife and they won’t leave me alone,” Margo muttered, her anger seeping into the harsh tone of her voice as she shifted slightly trying to relieve the tension in her lower back.

“Ah, okay then.” He stood up suddenly and he grabbed his plate off the ground. His movement was so abrupt that she jumped. Rattling the bushes, she fell back into the hard sticks behind her, scratching her back.

“Dang,” she muttered, her arms flailing as she tried to right herself, but she found nothing to grab onto.

“Need help?” he asked, a chuckle escaping him as he towered over the bush she was in.

“No,” she muttered as she finally managed to use her stomach muscles to right herself. They screamed in protest at their forced enslavement, but she managed to sit up, finally.

“Stubborn,” he snorted. Margo didn’t appreciate his tone. 

“Look just go away.”

“Didn’t you want me to play knight-in-shining armor and get you some food?” he asked, making Margo grit her teeth because she already didn’t like this big brute. If she painted him, he’d have two horns and a tail or the painting wouldn’t capture how much of a jerk he truly was. Her lips curled slightly as she pictured him in nothing but horns and a tail. Her body softened and she found herself wondering what his golden skin felt like. Dang, she needed to get her mind out of the gutter, she mentally scolded herself.

“I guess,” she finally said after a rather long pause that was filled with images of getting him naked while she caressed his hard body. No, no bad inner Margo. Bad girl!

“Alright be back in a minute.” He turned and headed towards the picnic at a good clip.

Chapter Three

Gunner didn’t know why he was hot footing it to the table for a woman hiding in a bush, but something about that velvety voice and sassy attitude teased his senses. He wanted her to come out of that bush so he could see if the body matched that voice. He approached the table cautiously, not wanting to get stuck talking to any of the women his mother had introduced him to. He didn’t want to get sucked into a conversation and not get back to his mystery woman. He was almost finished loading down the plate and making his escape when his mother came up to him. 

“You haven’t seen a young woman with blue streaks in her hair have you, son?” she asked, looking a little worried.

“No,” Gunner said wondering why his mother was asking him. “I haven’t.”

“Okay, well if you do tell her that her mother is searching for her. Margo disappeared over an hour ago and Helen is a little worried.” He briefly thought about telling his mother about the woman who was hiding in the bushes. He had a good idea that the female hiding out by the tree was Margo.

“Will do,” he finally said, deciding that if Margo wanted her mother to know where she was, she’d tell her. He was no snitch. His mother reached out, patting his cheeks.

“You and Lisa seemed to hit it off well. Maybe you should ask her out sometime,” she said smiling, making his insides clench.

“Sure, Mom. I will,” Gunner said easily, because he knew he could ask, but she’d turn him down because she had a boyfriend. He was about to make his escape when a short reed-thin man with beady eyes came up to them. His hair was slicked back with some type of gel and he looked a little shifty, making Gunner step closer to his mother. He didn’t like the man instantly.

“Martha, I wanted to see if you’d found Margo. I wanted to tell her I was leaving, but I look forward to seeing her at the next singles mixer, Helen says she’ll be there.” Gunner was glad his hands were full.

If they weren’t he might have grabbed the little man by the throat just to shut him up. His voice grated on his nerves that badly. It was like nails on a chalkboard, high pitched and nasally. Gunner was glad he didn’t have to listen to that voice often or he’d have to kill the little fucker. Gunner would bet his last dollar that he was the reason Margo was hiding in the bushes to begin with. She didn’t seem like a fool to him, despite her choice to hide in a bush instead of just leaving the picnic.

“No, sorry Kevin. I haven’t found her. I’ll be sure to tell her if I do though,” Martha said, smiling at him. Gunner was torn, he didn’t want to leave his mother alone with Kevin, but he also didn’t want his little bird to fly the coop either. Kevin solved his problem by turning away to look around the picnic.

“I’m going to look around for her for a bit still,” Kevin said, his voice trailing off as he did so. Gunner was glad when he moved away searching for Margo in the other direction.

“I’m going to go eat this, Mom.” He told his mother as he kissed her cheek and stepped away.

“Are you going to sit with Lisa?” she asked, ever the match maker.

“Yep,” Gunner muttered, feeling a little guilty for lying to her as he headed back to the tree where his quarry was waiting. He stood a few feet from where she was hiding, making sure to glance over at the large group of people to be sure no one was watching him. He didn’t want anyone coming over to talk to him. The only woman he was interested in was currently hidden by large green shrubs. Gunner felt a grin tug at his lips. This day was finally looking up and he’d thought that would be impossible unless he had made it back to the clubhouse. 

“Ooh, that smells good,” Margo muttered as her hands thrust out of the bush reaching for the plate. Gunner wasn’t allowing that and he held it just out of reach. He wanted her to crawl out, and that meant she wasn’t getting this plate till she did.

“Come out… then you can have it,” Gunner said, a smile curling his lips.

“Dang it, just give it to me!” Margo demanded, sounding a bit cranky. Gunner couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him when she shook her hands at him in command.

“Not unless you come out.”

“I don’t want to come out,” she stubbornly muttered, earning another chuckle as he watched the bush shake. He’d bet she’d just crossed her arms over her chest like a child would and could almost imagine that she was pouting too.

“You want the food, then you come out. Otherwise, I will eat this delicious plate of dumplings myself.” Gunner made a point of inhaling deeply and licking his lips.

“You wouldn’t!” she gasped and he’d bet her look was truly horrified.

“Watch me.”

“Fine. But if that whiny little jerk finds me, I’m dumping whatever’s left of my food on your head,” Margo muttered as she crawled slowly out of the bush. Having met Kevin, he’d let that insult slide because it seemed fair.

Her blue sneakers came first and then one sexy, creamy leg, then the other. The long length of soft-looking flesh had him licking his lips for real. If the rest of her was as sexy as those creamy thighs, he was damned glad he’d managed to convince her to come out of hiding. There was some wiggling and a bit of grunting as Margo slowly crawled backward out of the bushes. Revealing herself, inch by sexy inch.

Gunner’s eyes fixated on her firm derrière as her dress pulled tightly against it. The dress slid up a few more inches to reveal her upper thighs and a low growl escaped him. Every inch revealed, only made his cock twitch and grow inside his pants. When she was finally free from the bushes, she turned revealing heavy breasts encased in the high necked, modest dress, which she tugged down over her creamy thighs.

Gunner noticed that the dress was a little too tight around her cleavage—not that he was complaining. He liked the way it accented her figure, but it surprised him considering the modest choice that she’d buy something that was tight. When his eyes finally met hers, he was properly hard and his mind had shut down. Gunner’s cock throbbed as he stared, almost panting, he was so turned on.

He couldn’t help his intense reaction to her. There was just something about her slightly off-center button nose and dark blonde hair that fell to her shoulders. It was streaked with blue and looked soft and silky, making him think of holding it while she sucked his cock. His gut clenched at that thought as he took in her creamy skin and soft red lips. Everything about her seemed to push his hot button. Damn, this woman was his wet dream come to life. He’d always liked a woman who had something he could hold onto while he slammed his cock into her. It just made the experience more pleasurable.

Gunner didn’t stop her as she grabbed the plate and plopped down on the ground next to the tree. Huffily with her spoon she began digging into the plate of dumplings. Gunner found himself somehow mesmerized by the way her lips closed over the spoon. Her eyes closed and a look of pleasure fell over her face making him almost swallow his tongue as his cock ached with a need that ripped through his entire body like lightning. Her little moan as she ate made his already stiff cock tighten. Damn, he hoped she moaned like that while he fucked her. Gunner didn’t question his need to take Margo long and hard. He wasn’t like most men in the club who avoided good girls. If they agreed to have sex with him, it was their choice, and he never promised them anything.

Why should he feel bad if they got hurt? It wasn’t his responsibility to take care of the world. It could damned well take care of itself. He never slept with women under twenty-one and he didn’t pretend they were a couple. He didn’t force them and if they said no at any moment, he walked away. He refused to feel guilty for being a man with needs. If a woman cried about sex after agreeing to have it with him—well then that was on her.

“You know it's rude for you to stare at my tits,” Margo muttered. Gunner’s eyes snapped up to hers guiltily. He didn’t really care that she wasn’t happy with him staring at her tits, but shit, he was usually smoother than that.

“How is it rude? It just means they’re nice tits,” Gunner stated, sitting down beside her after finally peeling his eyes off said tits.

“Yeah, no. Don’t you know anything about women? Thought a guy like you would be smooth like melted butter or something,” Margo muttered again between bites.

Gunner frowned at her as she lifted another dumpling to her lips eating it erotically. His body ached as he drooled over a freaking dumpling for fuck's sake. What the hell was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be this horny with so little stimulation but he was. Maybe it was being here with all these stuffed shirts. Maybe all these repressed dudes had infected his brain with lust for anything that moved or some shit like that.

“I know they don’t normally hide in bushes unless they’re five,” Gunner countered.

Margo raised a brow, her face turning a little pink before she nodded, “Touché.”

“You haven’t explained that completely yet. I know hiding had something to do with that little weasel, who has likely already left by the way, but I don’t get why you hid here instead of just leaving.” Gunner reached over intending to steal a piece of her biscuit, but she growled and jerked the plate away, glaring.

“No,” Margo snapped, earning a raised brow. “Mine, you brought it for me and I intend to eat it all. Don’t care if you think I don’t need it either, so keep that to yourself.”

Gunner didn’t like the tone she used. He didn’t know exactly what she meant by stating that she didn’t care what he thought about her not needing to eat, but he could guess. Some idiot had called her fat at some point and whoever he was, he deserved to be gutted. Margo was gorgeous and her body was almost perfect for him. He lost himself in sex and didn’t rein in his rough handling unless it suited his mood. Not that he’d ever hurt a woman while having sex, unless you counted a few bruises from gripping their flesh too hard.

“I never said that. I was just going to steal a bite. I did do the work to go and get it you know.”

“And I thank you for being such a gentleman, but I’m not sharing, go get your own.” Margo gestured with her spoon to the table still laden with food.

“You’re kind of mean, aren’t you?” Gunner asked, tilting his head as he watched her eat, his cock still fully engaged in his conversation. He wanted to push her back into that tree and tear that ugly as fuck dress off her so he could see if her nipples were pink or brown. He’d bet they were a nice medium rose like her lips.

“I’m just not sharing my food, get over it.”

“Wow, I saved you from Kevin, Margo. The least you could do is share your biscuit with me,” Gunner growled. He honestly wasn’t interested in the food, but since he didn’t want to frighten her away with his intense need to shove his cock into her hot pussy, he acted as if it was.

“How do you know my name?” she demanded, her face suddenly weary and a little frightened.

“Oh, my mom asked me if I’d seen a woman with blue streaks in her hair when I was getting you food. Apparently, your mother is looking for you,” Gunner explained, seeing the panic that immediately covered her face as she jerked her head left, then right.

“You didn’t tell her I was hiding in the bush, did you?”

“Nah, I’m no snitch. I just said I hadn’t seen you.” Gunner watched her settle back with a relieved sigh and wondered at the reaction. He knew pushy mothers were a pain, but he didn’t like the panicked look.

“Thanks,” she said, looking relieved. “Well, you know my name, what’s yours?”

“Gunner,” he said without thought.

“Seriously? That’s your name? And I thought Margo was strange.” Margo said, tilting her head.

“Nickname,” he finally allowed. Even though it was more than that, he’d let her think it was a nickname because he wasn’t ready to have her running away. He wanted to get to know her. His cock twitched because it was likely laughing at his get-to-know-her thought. His cock wanted to know her alright—it wanted to know how tight she’d be when she was wrapped around it. 

“Ah, that makes more sense. What’s your real name?”

“Not important,” Gunner muttered. Margo snickered.

“That bad, huh.” She finished her food and sighed as she set it aside. She watched him carefully, her eyes deep green and trained on him like lasers, as if she were trying to see inside him.

“No, just isn’t important.”

“Uh-huh, ok then,” she said dryly. He knew she didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter.

“Want to go out with me?” he asked, suddenly again acting like he didn’t know how to talk to a woman. Fuck what was it about her that fried his brain?

“Uh. No thanks,” Margo said, but she’d posed the answer like a question.

“Why not?”

“Well, for one, I don’t want to go to this church and you’re—well you,” Margo explained looking a little pained as she indicated his clothing.

He jerked back, his face covered with a shocked look, realizing she thought he was one of these repressed fuckers who didn’t know how to find their own ass in the dark.

“I don’t go to this church,” Gunner denied, noting how angry he sounded and tried to tone it down. No need to scare her away before he got what he wanted—and what he wanted was to sink balls deep into her hot little quim.

“Well, still. I’m— Well, look, this isn’t really me.” She pulled at her dress as she spoke, unwittingly making him a much happier man. If she wasn’t typically in this style of dress then he could move a little faster than he’d thought to get what he needed.

“Good, this isn’t me either,” Gunner told her tugging at the annoying collar again. He’d been periodically pulling at the restricting material but he’d also been distracted from the uncomfortable confinement by his intense focus on her.

Margo tilted her head and watched him for a long moment as if she were thinking hard. He wanted to lean in and take her lips beneath his, but he refrained. Gunner allowed her to study him for a long moment before she finally nodded.

“Okay, give me your phone. I’ll give you my number and you can call me. Not promising I will go out with you, but maybe.” Margo took the phone he held out to her. His eyes were still on her lips thinking about them wrapped around his cock.

He wanted to fuck that pretty mouth and finish on her tits. He wanted to push her back against that tree, lift her skirt, and fuck her hard. Or maybe push her onto her hands and knees while he got behind her and pounded into her. He wouldn’t even care if someone from this stiff picnic watched and fuck anyone who protested. So many dirty fantasies played through his mind about her that he almost couldn’t hold himself in check. He’d never been this attracted to a woman before.

Gunner couldn’t deny the dark need that poured through him, he’d never felt like this before. As if he’d die if he didn’t stick his dick into the tight wetness he knew lay between her smooth thighs. He was a simple man with needs. Currently, she was the center of those needs.

“Here.” She handed him his phone, which he took back without looking at it. Margo rolled her eyes, “You’re staring again.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Right. Well, it’s been fun.” Margo got up brushing off her ass giving him another hot fantasy image of her rubbing those curves after he’d spanked them. He watched her begin to move away and he jumped to his feet catching her arm stopping her. He released her when she stopped, she then turned to look at him.

“Wait,” he growled and tapped a few buttons on his phone.

“What?” she asked, but her question was cut off by her phone ringing. She pulled it out and looked at the screen.

Frowning she answered it, “Hello?”

Her voice echoed out of his phone, as did a loud high-pitched squeal that made them both wince. She hung up her phone shaking her head.

“Did you just check to see if I gave you the right number?” Margo demanded.

“Yep, you’re not getting away that easily. I’m taking you out—soon.” Gunner told her and his cock throbbed in agreement. 

“Maybe,” she said, tilting her head as she looked at him again silently before she turned and walked away shoving her phone into her pocket as she went. Gunner felt his body tense as he watched. For some reason, the sight of her retreating back made his muscles harden. He realized he didn’t like it. He wanted her and seeing her walking away wasn’t what he’d wanted, but he understood some patience was required. He moved away from the tree, walking toward the area where his mother was standing with two other older women. It was time to gather her up and get the hell out of here.

Chapter Four

Margo moaned as she rolled onto her side and glanced at the clock across the room. Shit, it was already one o’clock in the afternoon. Rolling onto her back again, she let out a loud sigh and rubbed her tired eyes. She had to stop doing this to herself for goodness sake. It was the fourth time this week she’d slept in her study after painting till dawn. Staring up at the ceiling feeling like death warmed over, she rubbed at an itchy patch of skin on her cheek, absently lecturing herself for not taking a shower.

Margo didn’t really sleep at night much anymore and the working till dawn was becoming a habit since she’d started the series for the annual faculty and student art show. Glancing over at what should have been the third in her series of paintings, she groaned. Gunner stared at her from the painting and she knew it was his fault somehow. He’d gotten in her head after the picnic three days ago. About two hours after they’d parted ways he’d called her to ask her out. She’d turned him down and hung up. He’d called her every ten minutes for the next hour until she hadn’t been able to resist answering.

She still felt a little nervous about the messages he’d left before she’d finally answered his call. He was a hard man, that much was evident, which was a little disturbing. She liked him even if she wasn’t sure about him. They’d talked for nearly two days before she’d finally agreed to go out with him tonight. Her date with Gunner was at five tonight and that meant she needed to get her ass in gear. Scratching another spot on her hip that she thought must have paint on it, she crawled from the bed wearing just her underwear and a tank top.

She stumbled into the bathroom scratching her face and glanced into the mirror. Oh crap, what was that all over her face? Had she gotten a rash from the paint? She hadn’t taken a shower last night but—oh no, no, no, no. She leaned closer to the mirror recognizing that rash. She was suddenly remembering that she hadn’t showered after the picnic because she’d painted that night too. Now she was staring at the swollen red blotches and the hint of blisters all over her face, hoping she wasn’t correct in her assumption. She stripped off her shirt and panties to find red patches everywhere.

Margo went over what had happened at the picnic in her head. She’d hidden in a bush to get away from that creep, Kevin, which is where she’d met Gunner. Then she’d left the picnic with her mother and she’d changed out of that horrid dress the second they arrived at her mother's. She’d then come straight home to paint. No, this couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. But the red patches of what she was almost sure she recognized as poison ivy was evident. She recognized the rash from the poison ivy she got when she’d been roped into helping clear the brush from around a playground last year.

Oh, fudge. 

This was just fantastic, Margo thought as she remembered the large blisters with little pouches of clear fluid that had developed after three days. She couldn’t go out with Gunner looking like this, he would be disgusted. Last year, once the rash had started, by the end of the day she’d been getting blisters. It had taken a steroid cream and ten days for the rash to clear. She wanted to scream because this sucked. Margo threw on her robe and walked into her bedroom to get her phone. She would call him and let him know she couldn’t go out with him. She’d then go see the doctor and confirm that it was poison ivy and not an allergic reaction to her paint.

“Hello.” Gunner’s husky voice poured through the phone making her want to cry. She’d really been looking forward to going out with him. He made her laugh and he seemed almost normal considering she’d met him at that picnic.

“Umm—Hi, it’s Margo.”

“I knew that babe, what’s up? I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

“About that, I can’t go out with you tonight.” Margo blurted out without any preamble or hesitation; her voice almost panicked.

“What? I—Damn Margo, you just agreed to go out with me yesterday and now you’re saying you can’t? What the hell?” Gunner’s voice held a hard edge that it hadn’t had before she’d just busted out with her panicked denial.

“I just can’t, maybe some other time—like weeks from now I can, but currently I’m sort of—umm busy.” Margo said, trying hard to keep her voice steady. She was so disappointed, but she knew that she couldn’t go out with him looking like a freak.

“Yep, ok then. Got to go,” Gunner grumbled before he hung up on her.

Margo stared at the phone for a long moment after he hung up before letting out a big sigh. Every time she found a guy she liked, something like this happened. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to be in a relationship and that was kind of sad. Shrugging, she called her doctor’s office.

An hour later, Margo was tugging on the edges of her paper gown as she shifted uncomfortably on the table looking around the room. She’d been waiting over twenty minutes while freezing her butt off. She was quite sure that they had cameras that recorded these rooms so they could throw popcorn at the screen and laugh at how uncomfortable everyone was in a paper gown. Okay, so likely not, but it was a thought that had spun through her head as she sat there waiting.

She turned to look at the cat who was hanging onto a railing for dear life with the words ‘Hang in There’ posted above his head. Geez, why did they put up such silly posters like that one? Margo could think of about a thousand images that would engage the mind of a patient as they sat here waiting for the doctor to show up. There was a light knock at the door before Dr. Jacobs entered the room, a smile on her face.

“Hi Margo, I hear we’ve had another possible run in with poison ivy.” Margo wasn’t as happy about this as Dr. Jacobs apparently was because that 100 watt smile was annoying.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Well, it’s good that you came for the cream right away instead of waiting till the blisters were bad like last time. I think maybe it won’t be as bad this time. Okay, let’s look at this rash and see if that’s what I think it is.” Dr. Jacobs kept that annoying smile on her face throughout the appointment and when she was finished, Margo walked out with a prescription for steroid cream and headed to the pharmacy.

Sometimes being right about something kind of sucked.

Gunner hung up the phone before he said something he didn’t mean. Margo had just canceled their date without an explanation and it really pissed him off. He slammed his fist into the wall next to him earning a surprised look from Joker who was standing near him.

“Dude, you’re going to break your hand doing that. Fuck, it’s a brick wall.”

“Don’t fucking care,” Gunner growled, his anger too hot to really say much more than that.

“Some chick isn’t worth you breaking a bone, chill out,” Joker said, looking at him with a raised brow.

“She canceled at the last minute for no fucking reason,” Gunner seethed, knowing if anyone would understand, it would be Joker. He’d been a womanizer since a year ago when his girlfriend was found in bed with another man. Since then he’d been hopping from woman to woman like a frog on steroids.

“Ah, then find another one,” Joker shrugged.

“I don’t want to. I just don’t understand it, she was excited about it yesterday and then today she just calls and says she’s just—umm sort of busy. What the fuck?” Gunner hit the wall again, feeling the splitting of his knuckles as pain burst through his hand.

“Like I said dude, not worth a broken bone. Just ask her, go over to her place or call her back and ask for answers. Cause breaking your hand isn’t helping. You need to focus, we are here for a reason and we both need to be ready if this goes sideways. Buck’s handling the details, but we are supposed to be watching to be sure no one double crosses us. Now get your head on straight. I’m not chasing tail, so you can damned well pay attention too,” Joker snarled, shaking his head and glaring at him over his shoulder.

Gunner felt something inside him settle because Joker was right. He would just go over there and find out what the hell was going on and be done with it. Margo was wrong if she thought this was over. His cock had been hard since the moment he’d met her and he wasn’t giving up on getting her into his bed this easily.

“Alright, let’s get to work,” Gunner said as the rightness of his decision settled his raging emotional storm.

He didn’t want to admit that he was slightly disturbed by his reaction. What the hell was going on with him and this chick? He typically didn’t give a shit about any woman enough to be this angry that she was giving him the brush off. They’d talked for a few hours the other night, but he shouldn’t be attached. He liked her and without a doubt. She made his cock harder than a steel rod, but fuck he could get pussy anytime he wanted it, not just from the sweetbutts either. There were plenty of women who came to the clubhouse just for the novelty of being with a biker.

What was it about the sexy blue-haired beauty that made him feel something for the first time in more years than he wanted to admit to? Gunner knew he was distant, it’s what made being a biker work for him. He took care of his brothers and he did what he wanted most days and if you didn’t like it, that was your issue. Some had called him cold—or a bastard—but to his way of thinking he made his own path. He didn’t care about what other people thought he should do, or be. If his well-meaning mother hadn’t managed to change him, then everyone else in the world was fucked.

Joker shifted beside him, bringing his mind back to the present job. Gunner managed to shake off the melancholy that had gripped him after his call from Margo and focus on getting this shit handled so he could go find out what the hell was up with her canceling their date. He wasn’t leaving her place until he had a solid reason and if that reason was another man, he might find himself in the slammer, because something told him that he wouldn’t react well to that.

Chapter Five

Margo was wearing her comfy yoga pants that made her butt look like it needed its own zip code and a loose tank top with her slipper socks. Yep, she was certainly styling for the pizza man, she giggled as she turned away from the mirror. At least the calamine lotion that was all over her face and body in little patches wouldn’t get rubbed off and that was what mattered. She’d already started to blister even though she’d put on the steroid cream. She headed into her room, stopping to glance at the tracker for her pizza seeing that it had just been pulled from the oven. Yay, ooey--gooey goodness was soon to be on its way.

Her mouth watered as she rubbed her hands together walking into the living room to get a twenty and some ones. Margo liked a hot pie more than she did chocolate or flowers. She’d had quite a few fantasies about a certain underwear model showing up at her door with a hot pizza and a smile. After meeting Gunner however, she’d likely be inserting his image instead of Calvin Klein’s top model. Margo frowned because that was a depressing thought, mostly because she wasn’t likely to see him again after today.

Shrugging, she headed into the kitchen to put a few Cokes in the freezer so they were ice cold when the pizza arrived, her mind already on her painting. She noticed the few dishes in the sink and decided to do them while she waited. She was pacing about ten minutes later when the doorbell rang in her apartment. Assuming it was her dinner, she grabbed the money off the end of the counter and headed to the door. She opened it without checking, so hungry she would swear that her stomach was eating her spine.

“It’s about time you got—eek!” Margo was talking as she opened the door, but it wasn’t the pizza guy who was standing at her door. She stared for a moment, her mind shutting down then she realized that she was letting Gunner see her looking like an escapee from a mental intuition. She slammed the door leaning back against it. What the hell was he doing here? She turned and peeked through the peephole, hoping that she’d imagined him standing there, but nope. He wasn’t a hallucination.

Damn.

Margo felt the door vibrate when Gunner knocked, a little chuckle escaping him. Just kill her now because her humiliation was finally complete.

Gunner rang the bell to Margo’s apartment four hours after they’d brought the guns to the clubhouse. He would have been here sooner, but after he’d talked with Buck and Chaos about the job for thirty minutes, he’d decided he might as well shower and have his hand looked at. He glanced down at his lightly bandaged left hand with a little frown. He really hoped he wasn’t going to have to make some asshole eat his fist tonight after the club doctor had told him to be easy with it because he might have a hairline fracture.

He was scheduled tomorrow for an x-ray. Not that it mattered, if he needed to put some fucker in his place he would. He had to stop himself from hitting the doorbell a second time when Margo didn’t answer right away. He was just about to do it anyway when the door swung open. The object of his obsession was standing in front of him in a baggy tank-top and some tight as hell yoga pants—that made his dick instantly stiffen—wearing calamine lotion all over her face. She let out an eek when she saw him and slammed the door. Gunner couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he knocked on the door hard. He knew why she didn’t want to go out with him now. She’d gotten some poison oak or maybe ivy from her adventures in the bushes the other day.

“I’m not leaving, Margo. You might as well let me in, babe.” Gunner muttered with another light chuckle escaping him. He grinned when a muffled ‘no’ came from the other side in a miserable tone.

“Excuse me, sir,” a male voice said from behind him, making Gunner turn to see a man wearing a pizza delivery uniform looking at him, holding a large square pack. “I think this pizza is for this apartment, but maybe they got the number wrong.”

“You order pizza, babe?” Gunner asked, knocking on the door again. Hearing a little whimper before a pained ‘yes’ came from the other side of the door. “Looks like it’s right. How much?” he asked, digging out his wallet to pay the delivery man. The thin delivery man rattled off an amount and Gunner paid him. After a bit of juggling, the man handed him the pizza, wings, and some kind of cookie before stepping away heading towards the elevator.

Gunner rapped on the door, “You opening the door, babe?”

“No, just set it down and leave. I’ll pay you back later.” Her muffled voice said from the other side of the door.

“Huh, I was hungry anyway,” Gunner declared and turned away from the door with a little grin on his lips as he moved away from the door still holding the pizza. He didn’t get far before he heard her pained groan and some interesting phrases he was sure she meant to be curse words.

“You forgot to leave my pizza!”

“You mean my pizza? ‘cause I paid for it,” he yelled back. Gunner kept walking and he heard more of those colorful phrases before the distinct click of a lock turning. Margo jerked the door open, and her voice wasn’t velvety or sweet when she screeched.

“You bastard, bring me back my dinner!”

Apparently, she’d given up on not cursing him and just went for it. Gunner grinned, he had that effect on people sometimes. He turned to look at her, schooling his expression to hide his amusement. He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate it. He looked her up and then back down, taking in the cuteness that was an angry Margo. She really was sexy, he didn’t know how she could pull that look off and still make his cock so fucking hard.

“You going to let me in?” He asked, waiting for her approval.

“Fine, but you can’t have any of my cookie and no hogging the pizza. I eat five slices, you can have what’s left.” Margo muttered petulantly.

“Okay but that means I get all the wings.” Gunner teased, still staying put.

“No, you don’t. I get some wings too, it’s my darn food.”

“I paid.”

“I don’t care if you paid. It’s my dinner and if I’d known you were going to eat it all, I would have ordered more,” Margo growled as her brows furrowed over her eyes as she glared at him. He couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him. She was just too damned cute. Gunner shrugged and starting walking towards the elevator.

“Where are you going with my pizza?” she demanded.

“Home, with my dinner.”

“That’s mine, you big jerk!” Margo came storming down the little hallway and tried to grab the pizza box from his hands, but she was too short to take it when he held it above her head.

“I get all the wings.” He bargained. Margo sighed, her anger evident in the way she huffily crossed her arms and nodded roughly.

“Fine.”

“Okay, then,” Gunner agreed and nodded for her to head back into her apartment. He followed behind her nodding to a nosy neighbor who had poked her head out of her apartment after she’d heard all the yelling.

“Hi, Mrs. Coats. How’s your arthritis?” Margo asked as they went by.

“It’s okay, dear. Everything alright out here?” The elderly Mrs. Coats asked, looking at Gunner suspiciously. Gunner wasn’t stunned when people looked at him with suspicion, but he wasn’t wearing his cut tonight. Which meant he was surprised that he was on the receiving end of that narrowed-eyed look. 

“I suppose, he is being a little difficult but I can handle it.” Margo said not hiding the fact that she was still upset with him. Gunner let a grin slide over his lips and he wished he had a hand free so he could spank her ass for that little comment.

“Well then,” Mrs. Coats said nodding at him, a sparkle entering her eyes as she lost the distrusting look she’d worn a moment ago. She grinned as she cackled, “Give him hell. A man needs a little kick in the ass every now and then.”

Gunner had a feeling Mrs. Coats had been quite the woman when she was younger. It made him wonder about Mr. Coats. He could easily see her as one of the club’s old ladies. She shooed them back to Margo’s place with a quick huff as she meandered back into her own apartment, shutting the door. He entered Margo’s place looking around curiously.

He noted the discarded cups littering the little table to the left of the couch, along with paint rags that were littered around the room on tables and peeking out from under the furniture. The room was painted a cheery orangish pink with white trim that he was sure hadn’t been chosen by the apartment complex. There were paintings everywhere, including some that were stacked against the wall by a room off to the right, and more in a corner by the kitchen. Gunner realized that Margo wasn’t much of a cleaner. He had a little bit of OCD and this place was going to end up making him nuts, but he was used to ignoring the urge to clean up after slobs. Most of his brothers had no cleaning skills at all. At least she had some, which meant that her floors were clean and she didn’t have food containers from the 80’s hanging around.

He was teased about being the mother hen of the group every time he couldn’t ignore the mess and started cleaning. Gunner set the pizza down on the spot she cleared out for him on the little coffee table. Margo whispered something as she headed to the kitchen, sounding like more of those little phrases she used as curse words. Gunner watched her ass while she sauntered away from him, his mouth watering, but not for the pizza. Damn, she had a nice ass.

“You drink Coke? Because if not, your choices are apple juice or water,” she called from inside the little kitchen.

“Coke’s fine,” Gunner replied, opening the box for a slice of pizza. He stared down at it, wondering what the hell he’d paid for. “This doesn’t have any meat on it. We should call them and complain.”

“I didn’t order any meat. I eat it with mushrooms, bell peppers, and cheese.”

Gunner grunted and grabbed the largest slice. He was too hungry to complain about the lack of meat, but she wasn’t allowed to order the pizza next time. Margo came from the kitchen carrying two Cokes and some napkins that were tucked under her arm. She glared at him and the slice of pizza he was holding. She held out the Coke and he took it in one hand setting it in front of him on the table ready to take a large bite. Before he could, Margo grabbed it out of his hand, lying it on a napkin she’d torn off. He reached for it only to get his hand smacked and another glare from her.

“I get to choose my slices and that one’s mine because it has a lot of bell peppers. You can have this one,” she growled, handing him the thinnest slice with hardly any toppings on it.

“Woman, I paid. I should get the slices I want.”

“Here, now I paid. Eat what I give you and be glad I’m not kicking you out,” Margo said, handing him another thin slice. Gunner ignored the money she’d laid next to his napkin after digging it out of her pocket where she must have shoved it earlier. He grabbed the box of wings, opening them while taking two out, and began eating them. When she reached over after setting two more small slices on his napkin, he jerked the box back towards his chest.

“Nope, these are mine, that was the deal.” Gunner grinned when she glared at him and stared longingly at the box as he ate another wing. Deciding to take pity on her, he bargained.

“Half your cookie and you can have two wings.”

“No, I’m not sharing my cookie,” Margo refused, grabbing her large slice of pizza and taking a bite before letting out that little moan he remembered from the picnic, making him shift uncomfortably on the couch as he ate his own food. Gunner didn’t say anything as Margo grabbed the remote turning on the TV. He was expecting to end up watching some Lifetime movie, so when she set the remote down after putting on a Bates Motel rerun, he was a little surprised.

“You like this show?” He asked, curious if she’d just put it on because he was here, or if she really watched the show.

“Shhh, I haven’t seen this one. I forget to record them and this is the last season, so shut up and eat my damned wings.” Margo shot him a little glare and he couldn’t help the chuckle as they both settled in. He’d already seen this one, but he didn’t mind watching it again.

Chapter Six

Loud snoring woke Gunner and he jerked his pillow over his head trying to drown out the sound. Who the fuck had crashed in his room this time? It wasn’t uncommon waking up to find one of his brothers in his room. Or hell, in his bed, when they were really drugged out or drunk. He really did need to find the time to repair the lock on his door, it would save him from uninvited guests. Another loud snore escaped from whoever had woken him as an arm smacked across his chest. He let out a loud sigh, this had to be Chaos. He was the only one who snored that loud. Gunner pulled the pillow away from his face because there was no way he was going back to sleep.

Once he was up, he was up—cat napping had never been something he was good at. He opened his eyes, staring at a hot pink ceiling fan. Wait, what the hell? He glanced around the room noting the sheer explosion of color that was splashed across the room. There were red and blue bean bag chairs near the wall, paint rags everywhere, neon yellow curtains, and each of the walls were a different color. It seemed like whoever had decorated couldn’t decide on a single color, so they put them all into the room.

Shit, now he remembered that he’d fallen asleep after carrying Margo to her bed last night. He hadn’t however turned on the light, and now he was glad he hadn’t. Geez, he was never sleeping here again. His cock rose like a flag as he glanced at her form covered in a mountain of blankets. Fuck, who was he kidding. He would sleep here, but he might lose some eyesight staring at all these bright colors. After watching her sleep for a long moment on the couch, he’d decided to stay, even though he fully expected an angry outburst over his choice, he’d done it anyway.

Another loud roar escaped her and he stared in shock. He couldn’t figure out why she was suddenly snoring like she brought a chainsaw to bed with her, when last night it had been cute little snuffles. Propping himself up on his elbow, he stared at her, seeing that she’d turned on her back, but surely that wasn’t why she was snoring so loud, was it? He decided to test it and see. He slowly rolled her onto her side and two seconds later the little huffy snores he’d thought were cute last night were puffing past her pursed lips. Gunner couldn’t believe those loud sounds had been coming from the woman lying next to him.

Shaking his head, he climbed out of the bed and headed into the living room. Upon seeing the mess they’d left on the coffee table last night, he decided to clean up. Yeah, his OCD was kicking in again because fifteen minutes later he found himself sitting on the floor trying to get all the paint rags from under her couch. All the tables were cleared and he’d started a load to wash the rags, and done the dishes. He’d also taken her trash bag and set it beside the door. He’d take it out when he was finished. 

Margo rolled over eyeing the clock with a little groan. It was only seven thirty and she wanted to go back to sleep, but she could hear a vacuum running in the apartment. Margo wracked her brain as to who might be vacuuming her floors at seven in the morning, but she came up empty. Crawling out of bed, she stumbled to the door opening it to see a half-dressed Gunner running the vacuum. She stared, a bit shocked for two reasons; one, she didn’t know why he was still here and two, he was cleaning her apartment and had been for a while because it was cleaner than it had been when she’d moved in.

She knew she was a bit of a slob, but she lived alone and didn’t worry about cleaning unless she was having someone over. She was typically working in her studio or watching her shows and she didn’t feel like spending all day cleaning shit up just so it could get messed up an hour later. She never left food around for more than a day, she washed her clothes, and washed the dishes, that was it. Well, she did change her sheets once a week. Gunner was even sexier half-naked than she’d thought he’d be, the tattoos only adding to the appeal.

He had one on the side of his neck of a spider web, complete with a small spider, and tribal bands on his arms. He looked damn fine. Margo grabbed a sketch pad from a shelf sitting down on the footstool nearby and began sketching like mad. Gunner continued vacuuming, unaware that she was sketching his chiseled abs for future paintings. She was almost done with her second sketch when he shut off the vacuum and turned seeing her perched on the footstool with the pad balanced on her legs and her charcoal etching pencil in her hand.

“You're awake.” Gunner said, looking sheepish. “I guess the vacuum woke you, huh.”

Margo noted with surprise that he was looking around the room in a sort of dazed awe, as if he had no idea what had happened. She had a feeling he’d somehow ended up cleaning her living room on some sort of autopilot. Huh, he had OCD. She’d bet her life on it.

“I—shit. Well, sometimes I do this.” Gunner said, motioning to the clean room as if a little bewildered as to what had happened. “The cl—um, yeah so you want to go somewhere with me today?”

Margo thought about that for a long moment before answering as she watched him wind the cord on the vacuum up a few times, then stopping to unwind it because it wasn’t perfect. He did it three times before he managed to get it wrapped up to his satisfaction.

“Where? Because I don’t want to go where there are a lot of people. I’m likely going to get larger blisters sometime today, if these haven’t already turned into them.” Margo gesturing to the pink spots on her face.

Gunner walked closer, looking down at her face, tilting her head by cupping her chin in his hand so he could evaluate the places she was indicating. He frowned a little as he inspected the areas where she’d gotten the oil from the poison ivy on her the day she’d hidden in the bushes. It was a little-known fact that oil was why you didn’t see results for several days to a week sometimes. It took time for it to work its way into your skin.

“No large blisters yet. Are you that allergic to it?” Gunner asked, still frowning.

“Yes, last year I helped the church clear out a playground on the west side of their property and got into it. I didn’t go to the doctor for several days after they started and the blisters were awful.” Margo shrugged, her eyes staring up into his, her heart picking up speed as her breath came in little pants all of a sudden. Gunner was a beautiful man and his hands on her skin felt like brands. His thumb was rubbing absently across her cheeks where he still cupped her face.

“You need to see a doctor today then,” he ordered. His hands tightened as if he was preparing for her to argue with him. Margo rolled her eyes.

“I already did. As a matter of fact, I need to wash my face and reapply the steroid cream she gave me.” She didn’t move though, she just stared up at him, her lips parting slightly. Margo’s body was almost liquid, as the desire for Gunner roared through her reminding her it had been a really long time since she’d gotten laid.

“You haven’t answered my question yet,” Gunner said, his head lowering as his lips neared hers, making her racing pulse speed up; hearing a roaring in her ears as desire assaulted her.

“What question?” she asked, her eyes focused on his lips hovering a few inches from her own, her mind unable to process what he was talking about.

“Are you going to allow me to take you somewhere?”

“Sur—wait, where?” Margo asked, her mind still hazed with her desire for this man to touch her.

“It’s a surprise.” Gunner enticed, his mouth moving another inch towards hers.

“I don’t know,” Margo said, trying to break free from the spell his nearness was casting over her runaway libido.

“You do know. Now say yes, babe,” Gunner murmured as his lips came closer, almost brushing over hers, his breath teasing her lips.

“Yes,” Margo found herself whispering, caught in the pull he was using to entrap her.

He smiled, “Good.”

Gunner’s hand moved to the back of her neck and his lips crashed down on hers. His tongue speared through her lips caressing her mouth in a commanding stroke of dark desire that promised her nights of hot passion and multiple orgasms. She couldn’t help the light moan that puffed past her lips as he continued to assault her lips with hard little nips and searching thrusts of his tongue. Their tongues twirled, fighting for dominance in an ancient language of desire that had her body leaning into his as she lost herself in the need that he unleashed inside her. Her hands rose to grip his bare shoulders, feeling his hard muscles tense, as she gripped them. The intensity of his assault on her mouth increased, making her head spin. Margo was consumed by her need for a man she barely knew and shouldn’t want. She should have more willpower than this because she wasn’t typically this easy. Only as she stood there accepting the rough kiss he was bestowing on her, did she realize that if he’d lifted her and carried her to the nearest hard surface, she’d let him fuck her brains out. The desire burning between them was searing.

That was the moment Margo realized that Gunner was definitely dangerous. He was the type of man she normally avoided, the type who wasn't likely to create a lasting relationship and had a fear of commitment. She really should know better, being as she had already been down this road before. Even as these thoughts pushed past her desire, she pressed her body into his, feeling his hard chest press against her hardened nipples through her thin shirt. Her hands clinging to his hard, muscular shoulders, with her nails digging into his skin slightly as she moaned again. Her body was flooding with heat and burning needs so strong they frightened her, and he’d only kissed her.

What would happen if he actually fucked her?

Gunner groaned and jerked away from her, reaching down to adjust his cock as he stepped back from her. A look of need crossed his face as his eyes swept up, then back down her body and landed on her hardened nipples. He licked his lips as he tried valiantly to pull his eyes back to hers but couldn’t manage it. His hand rubbed against his hardened dick without shame before he spoke in a dark gravelly tone that sent desire skittering down her spine.

“Go get your shower and whatever, we need to leave—,” his eyes moved over her again and he squeezed his thick cock through his jeans. “Soon, now go before I change my mind.”

Margo didn’t argue despite her already thrumming body, because she knew if she didn’t leave the room, one of them would lose control. She didn’t want to sleep with a man before they’d even went on a single date because that was just too slutty for her to handle. She turned and rushed back into her room, ignoring the sketch pad she’d dropped on the floor when she’d stood up to stretch after he’d finished with the vacuum.

Chapter Seven

Gunner felt Margo’s hand slip down a little closer to his cock, making him groan. After spending twenty minutes trying to calm down after that kiss they’d shared, he realized that his cock wasn’t going down until it was inside her and had given up trying. Touching her was like holding a live wire and the kiss they’d shared had scared him a little because the whole time he’d wanted nothing more than to consume her. He’d never understood when his brothers said they couldn’t get a woman out of their head, which was why they’d made them their old ladies, not until today.

Right about the second he’d been ready to crash into her bedroom and jerk her to the bed, she’d come out dressed in a pair of black leather short shorts that made his mouth water and a light pink top. Her hair was streaked with purple and she was wearing a chunky pink necklace with bows and skulls on it. Her feet were encased in black leather half-boots that had a loose fit and shifted every time she walked. Gunner wanted to lick her legs from her ankles to her pussy, but he’d managed to get his libido under control and drag her out the door. He couldn’t help the little smile that reached his lips when he realized that the pink in her outfit was a nod to the calamine lotion she was still wearing all over her face and legs.

He was a bit surprised that the outfit she’d chosen was a lot less conservative than what she’d worn at the picnic. He liked this version of her better. Maybe the green dress had been for her mother’s benefit. He understood that, after all, he’d done the same thing. Being in the MC was something he needed to figure out how to tell her. Only he wasn’t sure what to say because blurting out ‘by the way I’m in a biker gang’ might not go over well. Hell, she’d almost balked when she’d seen the bike and he hadn’t even told her about the club. He could still remember that stubborn tilt to her chin as she’d insisted they take her car. He’d refused, because cages weren’t his thing. He always felt hemmed in when he got in one and once a month was more than enough for him.

He slowed down, leaning a little to the right as he took the curve feeling her body lean with him; her hands slipping another inch toward his cock. Gunner was glad they were almost to the little waterfall he’d found out by the canyons because his cock was aching like a sore thumb. It wanted to be inside her badly. He came to a halt just outside the hiking trail that led to the waterfall. He cut the engine and waited while she got off the bike, her legs a little wobbly. She reached out catching herself on his shoulder. Gunner had been prepared for it and helped her steady herself before he climbed off the bike too. He reached into his saddle bags pulling out the little basket he’d found in her kitchen this morning as he’d waited on her. He’d made some sandwiches, grabbed some of her fruit, and a bottle of wine to complete the little picnic. Gunner pulled out the blanket he always carried and turned to her again.

“Is that my basket?” Margo asked, looking a little bewildered at the sight of the small square basket he’d filled with food and hidden before she got out of the shower.

“Yep.”

“You just make yourself at home, don’t you? First, you cleaned my place and then you take my stuff. I’m not sure I like that yet,” Margo groused, her eyes narrowed a little on him.

“You will. Now let’s get moving, it’s a bit of a hike,” he told her grinning. She followed him down the path silently, but he was gratified by a little gasp when she saw the waterfall he’d brought her to.

“Wow,” she gasped, as she moved closer to the waterfall that crashed down on the rocks from the canyon above. It was lush and green around the pool, making it look like a virtual paradise. Gunner smiled as he moved to a long flat rock near the edge of the pool and spread out the blanket before cupping her elbow and leading her to sit down, already laying her sketch book and pencil in her hand. He’d gathered those into the basket when he’d gotten everything ready, anticipating her need to draw the falls after flipping through two of her sketch books laden with drawings. Margo was an artist and she apparently drew constantly. He’d stolen one of the two sketches she’d done of him this morning because the way she’d drawn him spoke of the passions she felt for him. He could almost feel the heat coming off the drawing as he’d looked at it.

“Thanks,” Margo uttered quietly before she became lost in her art just as deeply as he sometimes lost himself in his need to clean. It was something he’d never been able to shake no matter how old he got. He’d find himself suddenly organizing his bullets or cleaning the clubhouse common rooms. Gunner would be halfway through the room with beer bottles, used condoms, and drugs all gathered into different trash bins. His hands encased in the gloves he had stashed all over the club for when his switch got flipped and he went on autopilot again. The boys made fun of him about it, but it was something he couldn’t help and he wasn’t ashamed of it. At least he wasn’t a slob like most of those bastards were. He would bet that one of them had broken his lock just so they didn’t have to sleep in their own filthy room. 

Gunner watched Margo as she drew. She was focused on her sketch, her eyes never leaving the falls as she moved her pencil on the paper. Her light hair was almost glowing in the sunlight that speared through the canyon beating down on them. Her lip was caught in her teeth as she worked, her body leaning forward as she moved her hand capturing the vista before her, as though her life depended on it. The intensity was mirrored in the concentration on her face and the complete focus she gave to the task at hand. Gunner felt something odd stir inside him as he watched her. His heated gaze took in her beauty and the sexy way her breasts heaved as she fixated on the falls, had him breathing heavily.

Lying back with his hands beneath his head, he watched her silently; waiting until the need to capture the falls left her. He needed to touch her, but waited because he knew that he could touch her without ruining the day for her once she was finished. He wasn’t sure when the need to fuck her had morphed into a need to touch, but it had. Gunner knew there was a difference in the need, he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Fascination most assuredly, but something else too. Something deeper that worried him a little.

Margo realized after her third sketch, that she been ignoring Gunner for almost thirty minutes. Shoot she was really bad at this—like terrible. She finished the sketch and turned to see he was leaning on his arm just watching her while he ate some grapes he’d apparently stolen from her fridge. She reached out and took one from his little bowl—wait, her bowl—and popped it into her mouth. She was searching for something to say to excuse her lack of attention to the man who’d brought her here. She’d been to this canyon park many times and never discovered this out of the way waterfall.

“Sandwich?” Gunner asked, opening the basket to offer her one. He’d pushed the bowl of grapes closer to her already.

“Sure, sorry about ignoring you. I get lost in my art sometimes.” She felt the heat enter her cheeks as she said it.

Gunner smiled, “It’s cool, babe.”

Margo unwrapped the sandwich seeing that it was roast beef and had nothing on it except lettuce. Gross, she pulled the lettuce off her sandwich grabbing the mustard he offered, ignoring the mayo. Zoey was the reason lettuce—which she hated, had even made it into her fridge. It tasted like water and was too crunchy for her. She didn’t eat salad either, which likely had something to do with her generous hips and flabby thighs, not that she cared.

“Don’t like lettuce on your sandwich?” Gunner asked, watching her take a bite of her roast beef. Reaching over, he added the lettuce to his own sandwich while adding some tomato and mayo before he took a huge bite.

“No, I hate it.”

“Huh, so why buy it if you hate it?” he asked, before taking another bite.

“Because Zoey likes it.”

“Zoey?” Gunner questioned.

“My best friend. She loves lettuce, so when she comes over she brings it and I just let it stay in the fridge till it goes bad and then throw it out. The only reason it was even in there was because she hung out the other night and brought her lettuce with her.” Margo explained before she finished her sandwich, refusing the second one he offered her.

“You two been friends long?” Gunner asked, making Margo tilt her head wondering if he really wanted to know, or if he was just making polite conversation.

“For a little over three years we went to college together and she moved here after she had a bad break up with her boyfriend. Said she needed a change.” That was really an understatement, Mark had done a real number on Zoey.

“At least you were there to help her. She’s family, I get it.” Gunner automatically read between the lines and got to the heart of her relationship with Zoey, surprising her. Most men she’d dated didn’t understand that Zoey was more than a friend to her. After she’d been broken by her miscarriage, Zoey had been the one to help her survive her pain and self-loathing. She’d been the one who made sure she went to class, the one who held her while she cried so hard she thought she’d break into a million pieces, and she was the one who’d brought her back to the land of the living when she’d sunk into depression. Their friendship was much deeper than she’d ever thought possible and both knew they would always be there for each other.

“Yeah, she is my family, really my only family. My mother and I don’t get along well, which I’m sure you guessed since I was hiding in the bushes the other day,” Margo said with a rueful little laugh.

“Why don’t you get along with her?” Gunner asked as he finished his second sandwich. Margo felt a little odd talking to him about her mother. She barely knew the man, yet she felt like she’d know him for years after only a few hours of conversation. It was an odd feeling that she’d never experienced. Margo leaned back on the blanket after finishing her last bite and stared up at the sky debating on how to answer his question. He didn’t press or ask another question, he just waited for her to think it through, as if he knew she needed a moment to gather her thoughts together before she explained. She turned her head, glancing at him to see he was pouring some wine into glasses, he held one out to her. She took it from him and held it as she lay on her side looking at him for a long moment.

“I guess you can say the reason we don’t get along is her expectations. She is always expecting me to be her carbon copy and I am as far from being that person as one can get. It makes us clash and we don’t really agree on how I should live my life.” Margo finally said, feeling that the explanation was sound, even if it was an understatement of how her mother treated her.

“Ah, now that I understand. My mother isn’t accepting of how I want to live my life either. She is always trying to get me to grow up. Her words, not mine.” He snorted, his smile genuine.

Margo rolled to her back after finishing her wine. She looked up at the sky again watching the fluffy clouds as they floated past. Her entire being was feeling so relaxed. Maybe when Gunner made his move that’s why she didn’t react the way she normally would have. She didn’t know how, but suddenly she was looking up at him hovering above her with desire pouring off him like molten lava.

Chapter Eight

Gunner had held back his desire for Margo all day, but he needed to touch her so badly, his body physically ached with it. He found himself hovering over her, looking down at her with desire burning his insides with white hot flames. He saw the hesitation in her eyes and noted the way they widened as he pushed his hard cock down pressing it against her sex. She couldn’t hide the strength of her desire from him because he could see it through the crystal blue pools of her eyes.

He lowered his mouth to hers, slowly allowing her plenty of time to refuse him. Gunner couldn’t contain the need that roared through him at the feel of her body pressing up into him. He let out a growl as his lips touched hers, and her mouth parted allowing him inside. His tongue thrust against hers and the hunger almost consumed him. He felt starved as if he’d never tasted a woman or fucked one. His hands were hard as they moved down her body exploring from her hips back up to her breast as he continued to take her mouth possessively. Savage demands rose in his chest insisting that he take her in every way possible.

Gunner felt her move beneath him, shifting her legs to allow him to settle between them as her small feet pressed against his calves. She’d kicked off her shoes and her hands were holding his shoulders trying to move his shirt aside. Unable to wait to feel her hands on his bare skin, he jerked back to rip his shirt off, uncaring that he tore the buttons off the damned thing in his haste to feel her touch on his skin. Margo didn’t disappoint him, her hot little hands moved over his muscles, as if she were trying to map every inch as he kissed down her neck with light nipping tastes, knowing he would leave marks.

A roaring sound began in his ears as he slowly slipped her shirt off over her head. For a moment he thought he was hearing the waterfall, but then realized it was the pounding of his heart as he took in the perfection of her smooth skin. When he finally revealed the orange bra she wore beneath the top, he almost wept. Her breasts were heavy full globes, that had his mouth watering and his hands shaking. He pulled the straps down her arms slowly, trying to savor the moment they’d be revealed to his needy gaze. His breath was heavy as he watched his hands slowly pulling the bra off her flesh seeing a tight brownish pink nipple pop free from its orange prison. He couldn’t contain the groan that escaped him as he stared down at the twin peaks of her tight breasts after he’d slid her bra off. His hands were greedy as they cupped the heavy globes.

He took a tightened tip into his mouth slowly relishing the sweet taste of her silky skin. He flicked his tongue against her tight nipple hearing the gasp that escaped her as her nails dug into his thick forearm, her body arching into his. Gunner couldn’t go slowly after hearing that needy sound, he couldn’t savor her the way she deserved because that little moan burned him up inside. It sent forth a raging fire of need that roared through his veins like a drug. His mouth closed around her nipple hard, his hands cupping her hips as he moved his hips against her already quivering body.

“More,” she cried out, as he sucked hard on her turgid tip, sliding his teeth across it teasing her into another needy moan. Margo moved her hand down to cup him, almost making him come in his jeans. He felt the light squeeze of her hand on his thick cock like a brand. He pulled back from her breast letting it go with an audible pop as he rolled to the side shucking his jeans. Then he rolled back on top of her, grabbing her hand and shoving it back down to his cock with a needy demand. He almost couldn’t breathe thinking of her hand or fuck, her mouth—wrapped around his hard cock.

“Touch me, babe.” Gunner found himself demanding, his body tense as Margo slid her hand into the waistband of his boxers slowly inching towards the flesh that ached for her touch. His eyes rolled back in his head when he felt her soft palm close around his hard cock, he hissed in pleasure. Gunner leaned forward taking the tip of her breast into his mouth again, as Margo’s hand slowly moved from the base of his cock to the tip, in a light teasing stroke that made him wish she’d stroke him properly before he lost his mind.

Just when he was about to grab her hand to help, she wrapped it around him firmly and stroked up, then back down his cock. Gunner groaned and kissed her left breast slowly moving to her right, leaving light feathery kisses in his wake, his body aching for her touch. Gunner pulled back, her breast falling from his mouth as he rolled to his back to remove his boxers. He needed to see her hand on his cock. She didn’t disappoint him and rolled to her side, her hand slowly moving up and down his cock as she stared at it in fascination. Gunner watched too, seeing a bit of pre-come leak from the tip. Margo stroked him like she’d known exactly how he liked it. She wasn’t shy, or hesitant. She just worked his cock like a pro; her hand sliding up and down the shaft as her other hand cupped and squeezed his balls. Gunner watched her for another few moments before he laid his hand on hers.

“Going to come soon so you need to stop now, babe.”

Margo looked up at him, her eyes heavy lidded and glazed with passion. Her lips were slightly parted as she watched him silently for a moment. Then she did something he wouldn’t have expected in a million years and would likely never forget, even when he was old and grey. She sat up with her freed breasts jiggling from her abrupt movements and her mouth covered half his cock in a deep throating that nearly blew off the top of his head.

Holy fuck!

The quickness of her movement and the hot, silky wetness of her mouth sliding down over his cock made him lose his mind. He placed his hand on the back of her head, curling it in her golden locks as she started to bob up and down on his cock. He hissed out a loud moan that didn’t begin to do the pleasure justice. Her tongue swirled around the tip as she slid up and down, her tits brushed his legs, reminding him of their presence. He moved his hands to her tits as she sucked on his cock. He rolled her nipples, pinching the tips as he watched her mouth sliding up and down his length.

He was damned close to coming after only a few bobs of her head because this was the hottest blow job he’d ever had. Maybe it was the exposure of the waterfall and the fact that anyone could show up, or maybe it was just the erotic way she moved, but he couldn’t contain the need to come. 

“Gonna come.” He grunted the warning as his balls tightened and his cock began to twitch. He was surprised when she continued to suck his cock instead of pulling it out of her hot mouth. Fuck, she was going to swallow. Damn, that was fucking sexy. Letting out a groan, he came in her mouth, grunting as she sucked hard, a little moan escaping her. When his body finally stopped spurting, he rolled her beneath him, his lips capturing one tip of her breast in his mouth as he ravaged the sweet little bud. Margo moaned and held the back of his head as he moved down her body with light nipping kisses until he was pressing hard kisses to her belly button as he removed her shorts to gain access to her hot pussy.

Gunner shoved the material down just enough to place his mouth on her clit, sucking it as she’d sucked his cock. Margo gasped, letting out a groan as her whole body stiffened when he started to lick her. His mouth was devouring her while his hands cupped her hips tilting her for his pleasure. His head filled with a roaring demand that he make her come. Sliding two of his fingers inside her as he lapped at her clit, every now and then sucking up the juices from her tight pussy, leaving him feeling savage. His cock started to harden as he continued to lick her; his fingers working in and out of her frantically. Margo was shifting up to meet him and her body was quivering from side to side as she begged him not to stop. Gunner would have snorted at that suggestion if he hadn’t been so focused on making her come. He was so wound up, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop working her hot little pussy if the sky crashed down on their heads.

His cock throbbed as he thrust his fingers inside her again and again, hearing her moan and let out little gasps and cries every few seconds that urged him on. Gunner felt her pussy clench on his fingers and growled as she began to come. He needed to feel that around his cock. He slid up her body grabbing a condom from the blanket where he’d tossed it after removing his pants and sheathed his cock quickly before pressing it against her entrance for a second. He hovered there waiting for her eyes to open before he thrust into her still spasming body.

The hot clench of her pussy and the slick wetness of her orgasm gripped his dick tightly. Gunner knew from the tightness and the way he couldn’t seem to get all of his thick cock into her hot pussy that it had been a while for her, despite the hard entry. For some reason that pleased him and he tilted her hips as he began to thrust in and out of her like a madman, unable to take it slow. Her pussy was like a tight glove, milking him as he hammered inside her trying not to be too rough with her. Knowing he wasn’t having much success, his need to fuck her was too demanding.

He felt her hands on his arms and her eyes widened as he cupped the back of her legs pushing them up towards her chest needing to get the last bit of his cock into her or he was going to die. He knew Margo was nearing a second orgasm by the little panting sounds she made every time he moved. Gunner was already on the edge of coming again himself when he felt her nails dig into his arms as her body began to break apart beneath him.

A growl burst from his lips and his hands cupped her hips as she screamed her pleasure into the quiet of the canyon. Gunner continued to move inside her, looking down to watch her with satisfaction pouring through his veins. Margo had a replete look on her face as she gazed up at him, a look that pushed him over the edge a second time. Seconds later he felt his balls tighten and his cock twitch before he exploded into another hard orgasm. Gunner slowly came to a stop inside her, panting from the exertion, extreme pleasure roaring through him as he collapsed beside her.

“Wow,” Margo whispered after a few moments, making him grin like a fool, as he glanced over at her lying on her back staring up at the sky. Yeah, that had been pretty damned amazing, and he knew he was going to become addicted to fucking her because he was already feeling desire stir again, despite already having come multiple times. Not that his cock would get hard for at least an hour. Not since he’d come twice in such a short amount of time.

“Hmm, let’s go back to your place and do it again,” Gunner suggested, earning a tinkling laugh from Margo as she rolled to her side staring at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Okay,” Margo murmured as she leaned over, kissing him before she sat up and pulled her clothes back on. Gunner watched her movements, mesmerized by her beauty. An odd sense of worry beating inside of him like a drum because he was almost positive something had changed today as they fucked here in his favorite canyon and it scared him shitless.

Chapter Nine

Margo leaned back into the shampoo bowl while Lisa washed her hair, Zoey watching from her perch on a nearby chair. Lisa’s hands began to move through her golden locks, working the shampoo into her hair while she glared over at Zoey, who ignored her. Zoey was flipping through a style magazine looking for the perfect hair cut so Lisa could tame her own brown locks into something besides a bushy mess of curls. Margo sighed, thinking about how great her life had been over the last four months—well other than the trips Gunner kept taking for work. That was why Lisa was glaring at Zoey, who’d just said that Gunner leaving every few weeks for what he’d termed ‘business trips’ was a sure sign he was cheating on Margo.

Lisa had suggested that maybe he hadn’t told her where he was going because it was something he couldn’t talk about. Margo suspected Lisa knew something about Gunner that they didn’t, from her reaction to Zoey’s snorted ‘Yeah, like he’s got a wife and kids’. Margo wasn’t surprised by her friend's skeptical words, Mark had done a number on her two years ago. Zoey had loved him and what he’d done to her had almost broke her. Mark had been a charming man that Margo had never admitted she distrusted, despite Zoey’s fascination with him. He’d been a worse asshole than she’d thought. She had never guessed his true nature. According to him, his job had him traveling to another part of the state every ten days for a week-long trip, and every ten days like clockwork he’d gone on said business trips. It had always seemed strange to Margo, but she’d kept her mouth shut not wanting to argue with her best friend.

After four years of dating, Zoey had begun hinting that they should get married. Mark had resisted at first, but when Zoey had begun preparing to move on with her life since their relationship wasn’t moving to the next level, he’d asked her to marry him. Zoey had been ecstatic, she’d planned a surprise trip to meet him when he went away on business. Zoey had spent days getting ready—buying the sexiest lingerie, finding the perfect bottle of wine to go with the chocolate-covered strawberries she’d purchased, and even going so far as getting a Brazilian. She’d left an hour after he did and headed to the hotel he was supposed to be staying at in Vegas. Arriving about an hour after he would have reached the hotel, she asked them to ring his room.

The manager had pulled up the rooms to discover Mark wasn’t registered. Shocked, Zoey didn’t know what had happened. Had he switched hotels and not told her? She’d called several hotels on the strip looking for him only to find none of them had him registered. Unable to figure out what was going on, she’d called him. Not wanting to ruin the surprise despite the confusion, she’d asked if he’d made it to the hotel. He’d said he was already checked in, leaving her even more confused. Zoey had asked him what hotel he was staying at again, thinking perhaps he had said the wrong name when he’d first told her where he was staying. He’d repeated the name for the hotel she was still at before giving her a room number. Mark had then rushed her off the phone by stating he had to go because he had a meeting to attend. Zoey had charged up to the desk asking them to ring the room number he’d given. Only when she’d rang, it wasn’t his voice she heard on the line it was another mans, who insisted he didn’t know Mark. Unable to figure out what was going on, Zoey had come home.

Zoey waited until he went on another trip and followed him. He’d driven to a little blue house about two towns away from the apartment they shared. There she’d seen something she’d never expected. Mark pulled up and three kids came running out to greet him, they’d jumped up and down calling him daddy. Zoey had watched a woman—who’d turned out to be his wife—smiling at their antics from the doorway. To say Zoey was heartbroken was an understatement. In typical Zoey fashion, she walked up and asked him to introduce her to his wife and kids. Mark had stuttered that he could explain, but Zoey hadn’t wanted to hear it. She’d made sure his wife knew about what he had been doing with her for four years while he was working in the city and left. She’d walked away with them still arguing on their front doorstep and never looked back. Margo knew that the experience had left Zoey scarred and she’d never trusted another man since Mark.

Margo didn’t think that Gunner was cheating on her and she was a damned good judge of character most of the time, but she wasn’t stupid either and his trips were starting to worry her. What was he up to that he couldn’t tell her about it? Why was he gone for days at a time? It wasn’t the same with Gunner as it had been with Mark and Zoey because Gunner called her every day while he was away—sometimes twice a day. He made her laugh and they were connected in ways she wasn’t sure she understood. The way they seemed to mesh without even trying, seemed odd, but felt great. Gunner stayed at her place most nights and they’d found a sort of rhythm that worked for them—and the sex was amazing. Gunner could make her come like nobody’s business and he had, repeatedly.

Margo let out another little sigh as she closed her eyes, listening to the two women talk about Gunner. She tried to figure out how she felt about his frequent business trips, without Zoey’s mistrust or Lisa’s insistence that maybe they didn’t know the whole story, realizing she didn’t feel comfortable with them. 

“I’m just saying that if he isn’t willing to talk about where he’s going, then it’s likely it involves another woman. Men are assholes and they almost always fuck around,” Zoey insisted, glaring at Lisa, who sat Margo up after wrapping a towel around her head.

“And I’m telling you maybe it’s not about another woman at all. It might be that he’s just not able to talk about what he’s doing,” Lisa muttered, rolling her eyes as she led Margo to the salon chair a few steps away.

“Yeah right, likely that he’s fucking around on her, which is why he can’t talk about it,” Zoey said, grabbing another magazine and flipping angrily through it.

“No, that’s not necessarily what it is. I know you had something horrible happen to you Zoey, but not every man is like your ex,” Lisa stated, earning a huffy grunt from Zoey.

Lisa didn’t know what had happened between Mark and Zoey. She knew that Zoey’s boyfriend had cheated on her, but she didn’t know that he’d been married with kids throughout their entire relationship. It was understandable that Zoey would be hurt and unable to look beyond that pain to see Gunner’s actions objectively. Margo was almost a hundred percent sure Gunner wasn’t cheating on her. He contacted her too regularly when he was on his trips and she’d never heard another woman with him. She knew there was always a chance, but she didn’t really believe that.

“Same as before?” Lisa asked, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“Yes, but a little shorter this time, maybe just above my shoulders,” Margo suggested.

“You sure?” Lisa asked, Margo nodded and Lisa began to cut her hair after pumping the chair up.

“Just because you found a great guy, doesn’t mean Margo should allow a loser to take advantage of her, Lisa. If it acts like a rat and it smells like a rat, then it’s a rat, and Gunner is a rat.”

“My God, would you two stop arguing? I don’t think Gunner’s cheating on me Zoey, so just stop. He calls me too much while he’s away and we both know Mark always tried to rush you off the phone and only called you once or twice while he was away. Gunner calls me once or twice a day, it’s different. Is it worrisome, sure, but it’s not him cheating. I’m almost a hundred percent sure of that, but if it makes you feel better I will talk to him about where he goes again.” Margo was losing patience with their argument over her love life and what she should think. She wasn’t going to allow either of them to dictate her relationship with Gunner.

Zoey sighed huffily and sent a glare her way gritting her teeth, trying not to say anything else. Margo didn’t care, she loved Zoey, but she didn’t need her to run her relationship. She had that covered just fine.

“Have you told your mom you’re dating someone?” Lisa asked, changing the subject as she continued to cut Margo’s hair.

“Ha! Nope, even I can answer that one, Lisa. You know her mother is a terror,” Zoey said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“She’s right. I haven’t talked to her at all since about two weeks after the picnic. Thankfully, she’s been all wrapped up in some charity event they’re planning this month and hasn’t called or tried to get me involved. I figure she will be calling me any day now to rope me into going to the event.” Margo watched Lisa work, feeling her tense muscles begin to relax.

“Oh right, the annual feed the hungry drive. Mom’s been trying to get me to come help with the dinner. I can’t believe your mom hasn’t been doing the same with you.”

“Yeah—that’s because she can’t cook for shit,” Zoey said, unable to contain her laughter as she almost fell off her chair trying to avoid the magazine Margo had tossed at her.

“Hey, if you don’t want a huge chunk missing from your hair you’ll stop that,” Lisa said laughing.

“Yeah and if that witch, who’s supposed to be my best friend doesn’t stop making fun of my lack of culinary skills, I’m going to beat her over the head with your flat iron. I can’t help that I never figured out how to cook. I tried, I really did, it’s just hard.” Margo sat back down with her arms crossed over her chest feeling a little saddened by her inability to cook anything more than a TV dinner.

Cooking was something you either had the knack for or you didn’t, and she definitely didn’t have it. She could somehow manage to burn toast on the lowest setting. How bad she was at cooking was really sad actually, and even she knew it. It was why she stuck to TV dinners, canned soups, and take out. Gunner didn’t seem to mind. He owned a restaurant and for the last month—even on the nights when he wasn’t in town—someone from the restaurant brought over a full meal twice a day. It had only taken him a week to catch on that she couldn’t cook. It was likely the burnt nuggets that had clued him in.

Yeah, it was definitely those chicken nuggets. She could remember the smoke coming from the oven as Gunner used a towel to try and keep the smoke alarm from screaming as she’d mourned the smoky blackened mess that had been her dinner. He’d waited till the smoke was gone, then called someone to have them bring over a few steaks from the restaurant he owned. His only question as he’d ordered had been if she wanted fries or a baked potato. One of the things she loved about Gunner was that he rarely reacted badly to stressful situations, which was good because Margo seemed prone to finding those without effort.

Her last boyfriend had freaked every time something like the chicken nugget incident had happened. She couldn’t seem to remember how many times he’d given her a lecture about her lack of attention when she was painting or drawing. She’d start a meal, get distracted and before she’d even realized it was overdone, the fire alarm was telling her it was burnt. It wasn’t like she tried to lose track of the time, it just happened when she was working. That was the other issue she had with Trey, her last boyfriend. He’d never understood her art and had always called it a hobby. Art to Margo wasn’t a hobby, it was a calling. Trey never seemed to understand that, but somehow Gunner did. It was odd the way he understood her better than anyone else ever had, especially after only four months. Well, other than Zoey.

“Yeah, it’s hard because it involves more than two minutes of your time, dummy. If you would give it your attention for more than the few minutes it takes to nuke a TV dinner, you might be able to learn,” Zoey muttered, shaking her head and grinning. Margo stuck her tongue out at her, making a face.

“You guys are a hoot but stop picking on her because I can’t cut straight while laughing,” Lisa said, turning towards the door when they all heard the jingle that the door played when it was opened. A tall, handsome man with thick brown hair that hung to his broad muscular shoulders and tanned skin walked in, his gaze focused intently on Lisa. Margo knew he was Lisa’s boyfriend, a bad boy turned good. He’d been quite the womanizer before he’d met Lisa a few years ago, but now he barely noticed anyone but her. It was a look she’d become familiar with if she was honest. Gunner seemed to look at her just as intently as Tim looked at Lisa.

“Hi, Cherry Top,” Tim murmured as he pulled Lisa into his arms looking down at her while he held her hips. Lisa blushed at the nickname, making Margo wonder what it was referring to because Lisa wasn’t easy to embarrass.

“Don’t call me that, I told you to stop when you came up with it.,” Lisa muttered, her arms circling his neck with her scissors and comb still in hand.

“And I told you to get used to it, Cherry Top,” Tim whispered against her lips before he kissed her long and hard, without any concern that they had an audience.

Margo glanced at Zoey and fanned herself because the man was almost as hot as Gunner. Zoey grinned and pretended to swoon. Laughing, they waited till the couple acknowledged their presence again. It took a while before Lisa could drag herself away from his deep kisses.

“Damn it. You do that just to make me blush, don’t you?” she asked as she stepped back from him, avoiding his seeking hands as they tried to catch her hips and pull her back into his arms.

“You already know the answer to that one. I love it when you blush, it’s gotten harder to do since I’ve managed to corrupt you,” Tim said grinning.

“True. You’ve met Margo and Zoey before so stop trying to be annoying and say hello.” Lisa shook her head as she stepped back up to finish Margo’s haircut.

“Hello.” Tim parroted earning a glare from Lisa in the mirror before he laughed and smacked her ass. He thankfully waited till she wasn’t cutting to do it because Lisa jumped and smacked his hands away. “Stop glaring at me or I will have to take you to task later. Just came in to ask what time you’re getting off today. I know someone comes in at two but didn’t know if you were getting off then or not.”

“Yeah, I’m leaving at two. Sundays are usually slow, that’s why Betty only has me working now and Tammy coming in at two. Margo and Zoey are the only people who’ve even come in today. Guess it’s the rain, because I expected at least a few walk ins.” Lisa was back to cutting Margo’s hair as she talked.

“Okay, you want to go to dinner before the set tonight?” Tim asked, leaning against the wall behind Lisa. He watched her every move meeting her eyes in the mirror when she looked up from cutting to glance at him.

“Sure, pick me up at two fifteen. Is Brett coming?” She asked, her eyes clouding a bit when she said the other man’s name, making Margo wonder about him.

“No,” Tim said, his voice ringing with finality.

“Okay,” Lisa said turning to look at him. “Are you ever going to forgive him?”

“No.”

Margo felt her curiosity stir over the dark look that covered his face, making her wonder what he wouldn’t forgive Brett for. Zoey raised a brow as she glanced at her. Margo knew she was wondering the same thing Margo was. Tim chatted with Lisa for a few more minutes before he kissed her one more time and with a—have a good day, ladies—to them, he was out the door.

After that, Lisa finished their cuts and they paid as they headed out to have lunch after promising Lisa that they would get together soon.

Chapter Ten

Gunner reached across the table to grab his phone, wanting to check his messages again hoping that Margo had sent him a response. He’d only checked it a dozen times since they’d arrived at the clubhouse. Buck’s hand slammed down on his, stopping him.

“Fuck, leave that damned thing alone. It’s only been two minutes since you checked it last, it didn’t beep,” Buck grunted looking annoyed.

Gunner couldn’t blame him for looking that way since he was supposed to be working and he’d been checking his phone every few minutes waiting on Margo to text him back instead. He knew she’d gone to get her hair cut, but that didn’t take two flipping hours, did it? She should have texted him by now.

“I just wanted to check the time,” Gunner lied.

“It’s twelve twenty, now get your head in the game because we have to leave in ten minutes to carry the weed to our buyer. I’m not going to have you distracted, so if you can’t stop acting like a twelve-year-old girl for five mother fucking minutes I will kick your ass back to prospect, you feel me?” Buck asked looking grim.

“Yeah, I understand,” he muttered, letting his phone go, watching Buck shove it into his front pocket. Fuck, well that was great. He didn’t need to keep checking if Margo had texted him, and how much trouble could she really get into while getting her hair done anyway?

Margo cursed as she kicked the tire on the car. She’d just left Zoey about twenty minutes ago at her mom’s. She was headed home when her tire went flat, almost jerking her into the ditch before she managed to get control and steer it to the side of the road. She’d tried to change it, but the jack wasn’t in the car for some reason and she couldn’t remember why. Her first thought had been to call Zoey and have her come and pick her up, but Zoey had forgotten her cell at home this morning and she didn’t know Zoey’s mother’s number.

She pulled her phone out texting Gunner. She asked him if he could come get her before she went to sit inside the car, watching as people drove by her unconcerned about her problems. Not that she’d want someone to stop. You never knew who might pull over to help, could be an axe murder or a rapist. She lay down on the front seat trying to give Gunner a little bit of time to respond. He always sent her a message back within a few minutes even when he was on his mysterious business trips. She picked up her sketch pad and started a sketch for the last in her series of paintings for the art show. At least she could use her time wisely.

Twenty-five minutes later when she hadn’t heard from Gunner, she gave up and called the last person she wanted to call—her mother.

Gunner took the phone Buck handed him as they climbed off their bikes after the drop. Things had gone smoothly at the meet and Gunner was glad they’d only been gone about five hours. He was about to check his messages when Buck spoke.

“You might want to send whoever blew your phone up a text because it’s been vibrating in my pants for the last few hours,” Buck muttered wearily.

“Fuck, why didn’t you give it back at the meet?” Gunner demanded, glaring at him as he pulled up his texts seeing that he’d missed seven of them from Margo. The first one had come in a little while after they’d left the club at two this afternoon. It was a text that sent his heart into a panicked pounding. She’d gotten a flat tire and didn’t have a way to change it.

He felt his veins go cold at the thought of her sitting beside the road in the heat waiting on him. Anyone could have come across her, and it sent chills down his spine as he went over the millions of bad things that could have happened to her as she waited for help. He read the next three texts realizing that the second one was a plea for him to at least answer her and the third was a text that her mother was coming to get her.

Thank fuck.

The last text had been sent an hour ago and it said that she’d made it home okay and would talk to him later. It was short and he could read between the lines that his ass was in trouble, fuck. He ran his hand through his hair, feeling like a damned asshole for letting Buck take his phone. He should have told the man to give it back, but fuck, Gunner was making himself crazy checking for a text from her and he’d thought she’d be fine. He would have never let Buck keep his phone if he’d known Margo might need him. He took off his cut, folding it and storing it in his saddle bags earning a raised brow from Buck. 

“Why are you stowing that?” He asked, his head tilting slightly.

“Because my girlfriend doesn’t know I’m with the club and I don’t think the way to tell her is to show up at her place wearing it,” Gunner answered climbing on his bike.

“You’ve been dating this chick for over four months and you haven’t told her yet that you’re with the club?” Buck asked, looking shocked.

“Nope, she’s not ready.”

“Seems to me that if she isn’t ready, you should cut your losses man. ‘cause you know this is a lifetime gig and you’re not getting out anytime soon unless it’s in a body bag. So, just break it down for her and see if she can handle it. If she can’t, then it’s better to know now, rather than later,” Buck advised as he watched him lift the stand on his bike as he grunted out a reply.

“It’s not any of your business what I tell her and as long as I don’t talk about club business, you nor anyone else in this club gets a say,” Gunner retorted, starting his bike.

“True, but I’m thinking you not telling her is a mistake you’re going to come to regret,” Buck yelled as Gunner flipped him off. He climbed on his bike readying himself to face the music because he was damned sure that his ass was in serious trouble, and telling Margo tonight that he was a biker in one of the biggest clubs in Arizona, was a bad idea.

Margo heard the knock on her door and sighed. If she didn’t already know Gunner well enough to know that he wouldn’t go away, she would’ve ignore him. After three hours with her mother, she wasn’t in the mood for company. She wasn’t feeling very happy at the moment and after five hours and no response to any of her texts, she was honestly a little hurt. He hadn’t even bothered to text her back to say he was busy. She understood that she wasn’t married to him and had no real claim on his time, but she’d at least expected a little concern for her safety. She wasn’t asking for the world, just a message that he couldn’t come to get her, but hoped she stayed safe.

For all she knew, to him, she was just convenient sex and he didn’t really care about her at all. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t introduced her to any of his friends, nor had he spoken about introducing her to them. One of the first things she’d done was introduce him to Zoey. Maybe she was just a hook-up that worked for him because she didn’t make too many demands on his time. On top of the really crappy day she’d spent listening to her many flaws according to Helen Dexter, that was a depressing thought. Letting out a loud groan, she headed to the door to let Gunner in. He looked worried when she didn’t speak. She ignored the look and turned away, walking back into the kitchen to get her cup of noodles from the microwave. Margo was starving because all her mother had offered her was salad—which she hated and hadn’t eaten.

“You okay, babe?” Gunner asked sounding concerned.

Ha, now he was concerned, not when she was sitting on the side of the road by herself for two hours. Margo closed her eyes as she opened the lid on the soup feeling the heat of the steam as it burned her finger a little, making her hiss and put it in her mouth to soothe the slight pain.

“Damn, I’ve told you not to open those for a minute because you’ll burn yourself,” Gunner growled, moving up behind her and grabbing her hand from her mouth looking at her red finger before dragging her over to the sink to run cold water over the burn. Margo allowed him to hold her hand under the flow of cold water because she was a little confused. He seemed to be so concerned that she’d burned her finger and yet he’d left her waiting for a response for half an hour before she’d finally given up and called her mother. Granted, he didn’t know she was waiting, but would it have killed him to at least send a response?

“Now you care?” She snapped, unable to hold back the snarky comeback.

“I always care, babe.” Gunner said, his voice hard as his eyes went glacial and his body stiffened.

“I’m thinking maybe you should have cared when I was stranded on the side of the road for an hour, I needed some help. At the very least, would it have killed you to send me a message? I waited for almost an hour on you to at least text me. Do you even realize how dangerous that is for a woman these days? I mean, hell, we live in a state with two biker gangs. You hear about those Tricky Dicks guys doing all kinds of awful things to women,” Margo demanded. Her anger plus the time with her mother had her anger boiling over. Even as she realized she was taking it out on Gunner, but couldn’t seem to stop the flow of words from her mouth.

“I’m well aware of what the Dicks can do to people, trust me on that one. I didn’t have my phone or I would have texted you back, Margo. And you better not ever wait that long on the side of the road alone again or I will paddle your ass,” Gunner gritted out from between clenched teeth.

“That’s your response? No, I’m sorry to leave you stranded, or at the very least an explanation as to what you were so damned busy doing that you couldn’t be bothered with your phone?” Margo knew she was being a shrew, but after the day she’d had she wasn’t in the mood to talk rationally about this. She knew she shouldn’t have let him in, but she’d known he wouldn’t go away.

“I can’t talk about what I was doing today, babe. You should know without me telling you, that I would have come to get you if I’d known you were in trouble. I would never purposely leave you stranded Margo.” Gunner stepped back, his glare hard as he stared down at her. His whole body was filled with a tension she couldn’t name. It wasn’t anger, so much as it was rage maybe. It scared her a bit to see his clenched fists.

“I couldn’t tell that from today's behavior. Even if you didn’t get my first text, it’s been five hours. You don’t ever take that long to respond to my texts. Is it another woman? Is that what you were too busy doing? Is that what you’ve been disappearing to ‘take care of’, huh? What’s her name, Gunner?” Margo knew she’d just taken her anger a step too far by adding in her slight insecurities that were raised by her mother today while spending hours trapped with her. She closed her eyes, trying to stop the flow of words. Her mother always found a way into Margo’s head somehow, and now she was spewing it out like verbal diarrhea. She should have just gone to bed with her headphones in blaring music and let him bang on the door till he got bored.

“Is that what you think is going on here?” Gunner demanded, looking grim as he took another step back, his anger burning her it was so potent. Margo twisted away turning off the water, her mind calming some and she realized that she wasn’t going to be rational tonight.

“Look it’s not a discussion we should have right now, just leave. I’ve had a really crappy day and this conversation shouldn’t have happened.” Margo turned back to look at him leaning her back against the counter as most of the fight left in her escaped.

“Answer the question… Is that what you think is happening? That I’m fucking around on you?” Gunner asked, sounding angrier than he had a moment ago.

“I don’t know what to think, Gunner. You say you have to leave and then disappear for days and give me no explanations. I can’t live like that anymore. If I need you to be there like I did today and you’re off doing something I have no knowledge of, how am I supposed to know you will be there for me?” Margo asked, realizing that what she’d just said was closer to what she felt than the idea of him screwing around on her.

“You should know I’ll always be there if I can. That’s what you should know, Margo.”

“Maybe that’s the issue, Gunner. I don’t know that you will be.” Margo ran a hand over her face feeling a heavy weight fall on her shoulders her mind finally reaching its breaking point. She just needed to be done with this conversation tonight. She didn’t want to break up with him, but she also didn’t want a man who couldn’t be there for her when she needed him.

“You can’t mean that, Margo. Not after only one time of me not having my phone because a friend was holding it for me. I can’t talk about business with you, but I can promise you this, it won’t happen again.” Gunner took a step toward her, his hands reaching for her, but she took a step away from him.

“I do mean it, Gunner. Either you tell me where you disappear to or this,” she wagged her finger between them, feeling weary all of a sudden. “is over between us. I can’t live this way, I won’t. I deserve better and we both know it.”

“I—Fuck. This is just—damn. I can’t tell you what you want to know.”

“Then you should leave. And don’t bother coming back until you can tell me, because I won’t change my mind.” Margo muttered. She felt like her heart was being ripped out as the words flowed from her lips, but she knew they needed to be said.

“Right, so this is all the past few mother-fucking-months have meant to you then? Because throwing away our relationship over this bullshit is just stupid,” Gunner snarled, his face contorting into a dark scowl. He took a step forward making her retreat a little.

“Then it’s stupid, I’m not willing to have a relationship with a man who can’t even tell me where he disappears to for days on end. I need honesty and if you can’t offer me that then this isn’t going to work.” Margo felt those words settle inside herself and she realized they were words she should have said sooner. She was worth more than lies and mysteries. He needed to ‘fess up or get out. She might have been blinded by their easy relationship and the awesome sex but she wouldn’t allow it to continue. It would hurt a lot less to end it now than in a few months when he still wouldn’t open up to her.

“Alright then, have a nice life, babe,” Gunner said before walking away, making sure to slam the door hard enough to rattle the whole building. Dang, her neighbors were going to be pissed about that. Margo left her cup of soup on the counter as she headed into her bathroom, she wasn’t hungry anymore. She climbed in the shower and proceeded to cry her eyes out. Her head knew she’d made the right call, but her heart hated her for it.

Chapter Eleven

Gunner moved into the room looking around seeing twelve of his brothers in various positions around the room. Buck was leaning on the bar, his hand on the beer he was drinking. Walking over to stand beside Buck, he tapped the bar and held up two fingers to indicate he wanted two shots of whiskey. Copper nodded and walked over, pouring the shots. Gunner downed them both quickly, nodding when Copper offered a third.

“Didn’t go well with the chick, huh,” Buck said, standing next to him.

Gunner wasn’t in the mood to discuss Margo with Buck, even if it had been a week since he left her apartment after she accused him of cheating on her. Not that he’d made any promises not to cheat on her, but he hadn’t been interested in any other woman in the last four months since meeting her. Margo’s accusations had pissed him off enough that he’d almost walked out the moment she’d shrieked that at him. He was glad he had stayed, because despite what she’d said, she was really mad about not knowing where he was when she’d needed his help. She didn’t really think he was messing around on her. It fucked him up that he’d lost her because he couldn’t talk about what the club was doing. Talking club business with anyone who wasn’t involved was a good way to get stuffed into a body bag with rocks and kicked into a river.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Gunner grunted, hoping that Buck would let it go at that. He didn’t want to rehash his break-up with anyone, it was still too raw. He was going out of his mind not knowing if Margo was okay.

“If she couldn’t handle you being in the club then she isn’t worth you brooding like this man.” Buck shook his head as he glanced at him.

“Never told her about the club. She wanted to know where I was when I couldn’t come help her when she was stranded on the side of the road. When I couldn’t talk about it, she kicked me out after issuing an ultimatum I can’t fight. Tell her where I go—which we both know I can’t do—or we’re done. Now that you know the sad little story, you can leave me the fuck alone.” Gunner barked, slamming the beer Copper had just handed him down on the bar. His shoulders tensed as he looked around the room waiting on the rest of the group to get here so they could start this run.

“Wait a minute, you never told her you’re with the club?” Buck asked, looking at him with a confused look and a raised brow.

“Nope, she didn’t give me the chance. Like I said before, she wanted information I couldn’t give her.” Gunner took another long swig of his beer, feeling anger burn inside his guts over his inability to keep Margo happy. He’d been pissed about it all damned week. He was unable to move on which only ticked him off that much more. He’d never had an issue moving on before Margo. He realized yesterday that he’d actually been happy for the short time he was with her. That wasn’t an easy thing for him, he’d never been happy. He was the angry one—the one you didn’t fuck with, nor a cheerleader, not that any of the club members could claim to be a cheerleader. He couldn’t help the amusement he felt at the mental image of Joker in a short skirt and one of those little tops cheerleaders wore, making a grim smile appear on his lips, despite his mood.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t tell her that you’re with the club and that’s why you can’t talk about where you’re at sometimes?” Buck asked again looking at him with that same confused look.

“I already told you I didn’t. Why do you keep asking me that?” Gunner snapped, losing patience with this line of questioning. He’d just explained to the big bastard that he hadn’t told Margo about the club. Had Buck hit his head or did he just want to rub salt in Gunner’s wound?

“I’m waiting for you to realize you’re an idiot,” Buck said, shaking his head as he turned to glance at the door that was opening to admit Topper and Dice.

“Why am I an idiot, Asshole?” Gunner asked, still not getting it.

Buck turned to him, his face contorted into its typical permanent scowl while lifting his beer casually to his lips, taking a long swig. He set his empty bottle on the bar taking a step toward the door before answering his question.

“You’re an idiot because all you have to do is ride over to her place and tell her who you are, like you should have done before you crawled into her bed. You can’t tell her what you’re doing, but you can tell her who you’re with and that it’s not some side chick, as she most likely thinks. Then you can explain that anytime she needs someone to come get her off the side of the road, any man in this fucking club can be there to help her. You should have told her that from the beginning, or at the very least, the second you decided she was a keeper, asshole. Fuck man, use your damned head,” Buck said, making a circling motion to the club telling them to load up because everyone was finally here. Buck didn’t wait for the words to sink in. He just headed to the door behind half the club. Gunner stood beside the bar, a little shocked at the bomb Buck had just slammed down on his head when Buck stopped and added over his shoulder. “Oh yeah, and get your balls from under her bed while you’re there, because you’ve turned into a whiny bitch since she kicked your ass to the curb last week. Now you’re excused from this run, go handle your shit brother and I’ll see you on the flip side.” With a little wave, he was out the door. Gunner felt like the idiot Buck had just called him, because the thought of telling her he was with the club and seeing if it made any difference hadn’t even occurred to him. 

Margo glanced at the clock when she heard a knock at her door, realizing she’d been painting for three hours and likely would have painted for another two if her food hadn’t arrived. She set down her brushes. Grabbing a rag, she attempted to wipe off some of the paint on her hands. For the past week, she’d been lost in her work, trying not to think about Gunner and their relationship. It didn’t help that his restaurant was still calling every two days to get her order. She’d tried to explain that she and Gunner weren’t seeing each other anymore and they should stop sending the meals over, but every day they brought them anyway. She’d eventually have to call him and tell him about it. She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet because she wasn’t sure she could, at least not without breaking down and crying.

This week had been depressing as hell. She’d missed sleeping next to him. Margo hated when she’d wake up disoriented and reach over to find his side of the bed empty. She couldn’t believe that she’d become so attached to him in four months. She sighed, deciding as she threw the rag onto the table that her hands were as clean as they were getting without some soap and water being involved. She headed to the door, hearing her stomach growl at the thought of food. She flipped the two locks and opened the door. A shiver of longing ran through her when she realized it was Gunner standing on her Hello Kitty welcome mat, instead of one of his lackeys with her food. Her body flooded with sexual awareness before she kicked herself mentally.  Silently she began lecturing her libido about respect and the need to preserve her dignity by not jumping the man the minute she saw him.

He might not be here to work things out, maybe he just wanted the stuff he’d left at her apartment, or heck to let her know that she wasn’t getting her dinner tonight. Her stomach twisted in protest at that thought. He may even think that he could steamroll his way past this snag in their relationship without having to tell her where he disappeared to all the damned time. None of those things meant her tingling pussy was getting any relief, so she needed to smack that bitch back in line. She eyed the man in her doorway with suspicion, noting that he was wearing tight jeans and a thin blue t-shirt that pulled tightly across his chest. She felt her body clench as memories of him poured through her veins like liquid desire. Crap, she needed to get her runaway libido under control or she was going to be in deep trouble. Gunner was just too sexy for her piece of mind, and him standing here wasn’t helping her to stay strong and resist the temptation to take him back. 

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, her tone short, almost curt.

“We should talk,” Gunner said, and when she just stood there watching him, he motioned behind her, “Inside.”

“Fine,” she grunted, rolling her eyes as she stepped back to allow him entry, already sure that  letting him in was a mistake. Gunner was stepping inside when the elevator dinged and a man got off carrying a bag. Dang, her free dinners were a thing of the past, she realized. Not that she’d thought it could go on forever, but she truly hated giving this perk of their relationship up. Gunner turned towards the man as he walked up to the apartment.

“Shit, I wasn’t told you’d be here tonight or I would have brought you something too. I thought you were on the r—um busy tonight?” The man tilted his head, frowning.

“Yeah, change of plans. It’s fine, I ate already,” Gunner told him, reaching out for the offered bag of food. Margo expected him to tell the man not to bother bringing her dinners anymore but he didn’t, he only nodded.

“I see.” The man glanced at Margo and waved, earning a glare from Gunner. “You two have a good night,” he said, as he turned and walked back toward elevator. Gunner’s eyes narrowed as he turned with the bag and shut the door with a bit more force than was necessary.

“You should have told him to stop sending the food over. I told him we broke it off and you wouldn’t want him bringing me food anymore, but he said unless it came from you he wasn’t going to stop. I was going to call you about it,” Margo said, watching him head into the kitchen with her dinner. He glanced over his shoulder with a raised brow.

“He called me,” he stated flatly.

Margo stopped walking and frowned. Wait, the man had called Gunner, but he was still delivering food to her? She wasn’t sure what to think of that. Margo tilted her head, wondering what the reasoning behind that was.

“And he is still delivering food to me because…?” she questioned, following him into the kitchen watching as he set the bag of food on the counter.

“Because we both know that if I’m not having it delivered to you every day, you’d forget to eat whenever you’re painting,” Gunner explained, pulling a plate down from the cabinet where she kept them.

“I—that’s not true,” Margo lied, anger stirring inside her, mostly because she knew he was right about her not eating. She’d always struggled with her bad eating habits. Most people thought an abundance of sweets was what led to her being slightly over-weight, in reality it was her lack of eating that caused the weight gain.

“Uh-huh, and how long were you painting for?” he asked, as he opened the take-out containers and started putting the rice on the plate.

“I don’t know, a few hours maybe. Gunner, I managed to eat just fine before you started having meals sent over,” Margo snapped, unable to keep her anger from bleeding into her tone.

“Yeah, pizza and TV dinners are not food, babe,” Gunner grunted before he motioned to the sink. “Wash up, after you eat we need to have a conversation.”

Margo grumbled, but she moved to the sink grabbing the soap she used to wash her hands after painting with her acrylics. If she wasn’t so hungry, she would have ignored his commands, but the food smelled damned good. She’d gotten used to having real food every day and truth be told, despite her token arguments about the food delivery, she liked knowing that she wouldn’t have to worry about it. Turning from the sink, she grabbed her plate and headed into the living room to sit down at her coffee table. When she had moved in, she’d bought one of those lift-top coffee tables so she didn’t have to try and squeeze a dining room table into her small apartment. She hated feeling crowded and adding anymore furniture would have made the space feel smaller.

“I’m still serious about what I said a week ago, Gunner. That hasn’t changed,” Margo told him as she sat down on the couch, taking the Coke he offered her. Gunner sat down beside her, his hand brushing her hair from the side of her face gently and his dark eyes gazing down at her solemnly.

“Eat, we will discuss that when you’re done.”

“You know, I can talk and eat at the same time,” Margo muttered, scowling at him. He sighed, motioning for her to eat.

“I know but this conversation isn’t going to be light and I don’t want it to cause indigestion.” Gunner ran a hand over the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

Margo didn’t know what to say to that. She pursed her lips, watching him for a long moment. Silently, she followed his command, more because she was hungry than because he’d ordered her to. Hope was tugging at the strings of her heart and she wanted to demand answers, but she knew he wouldn’t give her any until she was finished with her dinner. 

Gunner watched Margo eat, feeling his body starting to tense up as cravings for her assaulted him. When she’d opened the door with her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, wearing a thin t-shirt with paint stains on it as well as her hands, his only thought had been to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. If Bunny hadn’t shown up with her food, he likely would have ended up making love to her against the nearest flat surface. He felt starved for her despite their separation being short. Somehow over the past four months, Margo had become more than just a woman he liked to fuck. Buck was right, she was a keeper and if she didn’t freak out about him being a biker, he planned on keeping her.

Hell, if he was honest, he knew even if she did freak, he was keeping her. Margo was his and that was more than obvious to him now that he was sitting here beside her, drinking in her beauty. How she’d crawled so far under his skin in such a short time was beyond him, but she had. Maybe it was the way she made him feel like less of a freak because she understood him and his need to organize shit. Speaking of organizing, he couldn’t help the little smile that touched his lips as he looked around her apartment. He noted the rags lying on the floor and the cans she’d stacked on the table beside where she ate. She’d already destroyed her apartment and he’d only been gone a week. How she’d managed to do that was a mystery, but if he had to guess, she’d spent the whole week painting and doing little else.

He ignored the urge to clean up the mess by looking back at her as she took the last bite of her steak and sat back on the couch, finished eating at last. Now to face the music. Damn, why was telling her so damned hard? He’d already decided that he was keeping her no matter what, so this conversation shouldn’t be this difficult. Gunner took a deep breath hoping to come up with a brilliant plan to tell her so she didn’t flip her shit and attempt to kick him out.

“I’m done eating. Now let’s hear it, where do you disappear to all the time?” Margo asked, getting right to the point without preamble. Normally, that was one of the traits he loved about Margo, but today he couldn’t say he liked her no-nonsense attitude.

“Runs.” He finally stated, his voice a little husky.

Fuck, that wasn’t the way to tell her he was a fucking biker. Hell, cue the hysterics because she was definitely going to flip out with that lovely flat reply.  He waited, watching her face contort into a dark expression that was surely bad news—fuck.

“You’re wanting me to believe that you disappear for days on end to run? How stupid do you think I am, Gunner?” Margo asked, standing up with her hands landing on her hips as she glared down at him. He realized that she was talking about running, as in marathons and felt a laugh bubble up inside him. He couldn’t help it, he’d been so prepared for her to freak out after he’d blurted out that he was going on runs, because in his world that word only meant one thing, he let out a long chuckle. He’d forgotten for a moment in his panicked mind  that she wasn’t from his world and the word meant something different to a civvie.

“I can tell you it’s not funny, you big jerk! I knew letting you in here was a mistake. You need to leave,” Margo growled, jerking her finger towards the door.

“Sit down, woman. I’m not leaving, and yes, I do expect you to believe it once I explain,” Gunner said, running a hand down his face as he thought quickly of a way to say this without just blurting out that he was a biker.

“Oh, this ought to be good, do go on.” Margo’s hand flew through the air in a—oh yes please dig this hole deeper—kind of way, before she continued. “I can’t wait to hear how you’re going to convince me that you’re going running when you leave for five to six days at a time. When I know damned good and well, you’re as likely to run as I am, so yes, let’s hear it.”

“I’m not a runner, babe—,” he began.

“Ha, there’s a surprise,” she interrupted with a little snort.

“Will you stop interrupting so I can explain, damn it,” Gunner growled, glaring at her, feeling an urge to shut her up with his cock in her mouth. Shaking that thought off, he rubbed his jaw watching her. His hands itched to feel the fire she’d already displayed burn him as he was pounding into her hard and fast to make up for the week he’d been without her.

“Fine.” Margo agreed, nodding curtly as she sat back down with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting.

“Shit, this is harder than I expected it to be.” Gunner saw her mouth open and placed his hand over it. “Stop, I need to just blurt it out. Just remember that what I say doesn’t change who I am with you and you have no reason to fear me, okay?” He waited until she nodded before he finally bit the bullet and blurted out, “I’m a biker.”

He let her mouth go, waiting for the words to settle, all the while hoping the explosion wasn’t going to be as bad as he was expecting it to be. He was anticipating fear or revulsion to be her reaction, but all he got was rolled eyes and a loud sound of exasperation.

“I already knew you ride a bike Gunner, get to the point. None of this explains why you keep disappearing.” Gunner realized that she didn’t understand that he was part of an MC. Well fuck, that was unexpected. He couldn’t believe that she still wasn’t understanding. How did he explain this to her any simpler than he already was?

“No babe, I’m in an MC,” he said, trying to explain. He still didn’t see understanding on her face as he watched her expression. He was fucking this explanation up royally. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out where he’d went wrong with his explanations.

“What’s an MC?” Margo asked. Gunner winced, not wanting to say what he knew he had to say, but she needed to understand who he was. 

“It’s a motorcycle club.”

“Oh, this isn’t helping me to understand. You like to ride motorcycles, so what? Would you just spit it out already!” Margo demanded, her glare hot.

“Fuck—I’m part of the Grave Diggers MC,” Gunner shouted, losing his patience with pussyfooting around the subject. He saw surprise, then understanding, and then wariness on her face as she leaned away from him. Her movements made his instincts kick in, urging him to grab her before she ran. He held the urge back, just barely, giving her time to process the words he’d just tossed out.

“Grave Diggers—that’s, um… isn’t that the gang that was on the news the other night as having been involved in a shootout?” Margo asked, looking a little pale.

“Yeah, it wasn’t as bad as the media made it sound. Some jackasses from the Tricky Dicks shot at us first. We just didn’t take it lying down,” Gunner said, still watching her carefully.

“Were you involved in that shootout?” She asked, paling even more. Damn, he was losing her here. Gunner could tell that she was starting to panic. Fuck, why had he watched that news broadcast to see what they were saying about them while he was here at her place?

“No babe, I was here with you all day remember? It was Bunny and a few of the other prospects involved in that shootout,” Gunner explained, moving closer to her as she stood up and took a step back away from him. He forced himself to stop moving towards her, but watched her carefully, trying to determine her mood.

“Bun—bunny?” She asked, looking a little dazed with her arms still crossed over her chest. Margo’s eyes were wide and he would bet that her pulse was pounding as her fight or flight instincts kicked in. Damn, he hated the thought that she might fear him even a little bit.

“Bunny’s the guy who delivers your food, and he’s a prospect. Bunny is his road name, or the name that the club gave him when he started earning his rockers”

“Rockers?” Margo said, frowning. Gunner was realizing how little she understood his world. He was suddenly aware that he was going to be explaining a lot of shit to her about the club over the next few months.

“Yeah, rockers are patches on our vests that tell our status in the club. I’m a fully patched member because I have both the patches above and below the logo on my vest. Bunny is a prospect because he only has the first rocker. A prospect is a member who’s umm—auditioning to be in the club.” Gunner watched Margo’s face, seeing some of the confusion leave her expression, but the fear that was slowly replacing it didn’t sit well with him.

“Bunny delivers my food and he’s in your biker gang?” Margo asked. Gunner didn’t like the fear that clouded her face as she gazed at him from across the table she’d put between them while he’d explained what a prospect and rockers were.

“Yes, but he wouldn’t hurt you any more than I would, babe. Don’t call us a gang either, that’s not who we are, we’re a club.” Thinking of a better description, Gunner added, “No, we’re a family.”

Gunner moved around the table, stepping towards her, trying not to push this too hard. He was only a foot from her when he stopped and was grateful when she didn’t step back. Margo bit down on her lip as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest, gazing at him with fear clouding her eyes. He hated the look and wanted to kiss it away, but he knew that any move on his part could make her even more leery of him at this point, so he stood silently watching her as he ached to hold her.

“I—so when you say runs, what does that mean exactly?” she asked suddenly, surprising him.

“I’m doing things for the club. Running errands and taking care of things that need to be handled. Nothing I can talk about too much.” Gunner told her.

“Do you kill people?” She asked making him wince.

“That’s not something I can really talk about, babe. Let’s just say sometimes handling shit isn’t pretty.” Gunner didn’t want to tell her that he had killed when it was necessary. He didn’t do it for fun and he never took it lightly, but if someone needed to die then they were going to die.

“So that’s a yes, you kill people,” Margo said, swaying a little. Gunner reached out to catch her, but she moved back quickly not allowing him to take her into his arms like he wanted to.

“Babe, you don’t have to be afraid of me, I won’t hurt you.” Gunner entreated, feeling an ache in his chest that wouldn’t stop because he never wanted to see that look of abject terror on Margo’s face ever again.

“I thought I could count on that but—this changes things and I-I don’t know what to say,” Margo stuttered out, rubbing her arms up and down, looking at him apprehensively.

“Think of it this way, if Zoey called you and said this Mark character broke her heart, was beating up on her, and she needed you to come over and pick her up, you would… right?” Gunner asked, trying to explain to her how things worked in his world. He waited until she gave a slight nod of her head before he continued. “Only when you get there, he’s wailing on her. Just beating the hell out of her but there’s a gun on the table and it’s the only way to stop him before he kills her. What would you do babe?”

“I—I don’t know.” She whispered.

“Well I do, you’d pick that gun up and shoot the mother fucker because you love Zoey and she’s family. Well, that’s what it’s like with the club. We’re a family and we protect each other always, any way we have to. Some of us have even gone to jail for protecting our families. It’s part of the life, but you can always count on someone to be there for you, even if I’m not around. One of the brothers will protect you if I can’t because you're mine, and that makes you family too.” Gunner had stepped up right in front of her and he was looking down into her eyes as she stared up at him, some of the fear easing from her face.

“I need time to process this, Gunner. I can’t—I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“Yeah, I get that, but babe, I won’t stay away for long. I can give you two days, but after that I am going to be over here and we’re going to figure out what we need to do to get you through this, because I’m not giving you up, I can’t.” Gunner promised as his lips crashed down on hers in a passionate kiss that left them both breathless, right before he stepped back heading to the door.

“Two days.” He repeated, as he turned from the door to see her standing where he’d left her with her fingers on her lips watching him leave. She nodded, looking a little shell-shocked as he stepped out the door but stopped again and turned to look at her.

“Do me a favor and don’t watch any more news about us. Ninety-five percent of it is skewed to make civvies hate us and I don’t want you to judge us based on those bullshit reports. Let me show you the life and see how it really is to be a part of our family before you make any snap decisions, okay?” Gunner held the door in one hand, gripping it hard to keep himself from walking back into her apartment and taking her on the nearest hard surface. He understood that she needed time but his libido sure didn’t.

“Okay,” Margo agreed and Gunner did the last thing he wanted to do, he walked out the door leaving Margo behind. He hoped like hell he could convince her that being his wasn’t going to be terrible,  because the thought of giving her up was enough to rip out his soul.

Chapter Twelve

Margo still wasn’t sure how she felt about Gunner being in a biker gang—no wait, club. He’d said they hated being referred to as a gang. Shaking her head, she stretched, feeling the slight pain in her lower back that let her know she’d been painting too much this week. She wasn’t any calmer after two days than she had been the other night when he’d let the cat out of the bag. Margo really wasn’t mad that he hadn’t told her from the beginning that he was a part of the Grave Diggers MC because what she knew about bikers was dark and damned scary. She wouldn’t have reacted well to the news and likely wouldn’t have gotten to know him if he’d told her about his involvement with the MC when they first met.

It was sad to think that she wouldn’t know how he liked his back scratched before he fell asleep at night, that he could make her laugh till her belly ached, or that he cleaned when he was stressed. The thought of those things was truly tragic. No, she couldn’t say she was upset he’d kept her in the dark over the past few months, mostly because she might just be falling in love with him. Glancing at the clock, she realized that she’d better get her ass in gear.

This morning she’d talked to him about giving him and his club a chance. He’d been glad and said he’d call her later. He hadn’t called, but he did send her a text that he was coming over at six tonight. Since it was five forty, she needed to get her head on straight. The reason she’d agreed to get to know his ‘family’ was because she realized after much thought, that she still trusted him more than she ever had any other man. It was odd how close she felt to him. It was like she’d known him all her life, even though she’d only spent a few months with him. She wasn’t sure that she could accept the club he ran with as part of her life, but because of the connection she had with him, she’d attempt it. Rubbing her face before she headed towards the bathroom she stuck the key under the doormat just in case he was early.

Her phone started ringing and she lifted it hoping it was Gunner, only to groan. Ugh, it was her mother. Helen had been making her crazy since the night she had to call her to come pick her up when she had the flat tire. She wanted Margo to go to some dinner she was hosting tonight and Margo was dead set against going. She didn’t want anything to do with one of her mother’s dinner parties. She wasn’t going—at least not in this lifetime—even guilt wasn’t enough to make her go. She ignored her phone waiting until it quit ringing to pick it up. Gunner would be over soon and she hadn’t showered yesterday so she was likely pretty rank. Sometimes when she was stressed, she would paint all day and crash when she finished without eating or showering. On days like that, if it hadn’t been for the food Gunner was having delivered to her door, she likely wouldn’t eat. Damn the man for being correct about that.

She sent Gunner a quick text that she was in the shower, but that the key was under the mat for him before heading to the bathroom. Her leaving the key under the mat had become sort of routine for them when they’d been together. If she was at work at the community college, or if she was working in her studio and knew he was coming over, she’d leave the key beneath the mat. It was a sore subject and Gunner had been pressing her to let him make a key because according to him, her leaving it out was asking for someone to rob her, or worse.

He’d insisted that anyone who saw her put it under the mat could break in. She hadn’t discounted the truth of his words and had been considering letting him make one before they broke up. Of course, the only person on the same floor was Mrs. Coats and Margo had a feeling that she wasn’t a criminal master mind, or looking to rob her. Since Mrs. Coats lived alone and only had family who flew in from St. Louis twice a year, she was likely pretty safe. She reached out grabbing a towel to place on the sink for herself to dry off with when she got out of the shower. As she shucked her clothes and climbed into the shower she had a smile on her face, feeling lighter than she had in more than a week.

Gunner looked down at his phone as he climbed off his bike, letting out a little growl of displeasure. He hated when she left that key out for him. It was dangerous and he was taking it with him this time to make a copy. Thankfully, he was already here and it wouldn’t be more than a minute before he removed the damn thing from under the ridiculous cartoon character welcome mat. He walked inside taking the elevator to the floor her apartment was on, as he exited he lumbered down the hall with his jaw clenched. He was pulling the key to Margo’s door from under the mat when Mrs. Coats peeked out through the crack in her door to see who was in the hall.

He nodded to her with a slight grin on his face. She huffed and slammed the door shut. If anyone had tried to get into Margo’s place with her key at least he could count on Mrs. Coats calling the police. Not that he liked those bastards, but at least they’d stop anyone from breaking into Margo’s place. That was of course, assuming the person didn’t burst into Mrs. Coats apartment and steal her blind too. It was a grim thought, but in his world, it wasn’t uncommon for shit like that to happen. Gunner knew that he and his brothers would have handled it, but that wouldn’t have helped Margo or Mrs. Coats if some fuck had hurt them. His hands clenched and his jaw tightened again as he pulled the door open and entered Margo’s apartment. He walked down the hall while putting her key into his wallet. He stood in the kitchen rubbing the back of his neck. He looked down seeing Margo’s sketch book on the counter. He reached out and began flipping through her sketches. He was always awed by her work because she really was a talented artist.

He paused looking at a sketch she’d drawn of a little girl in the park playing in a sand box. The scene was drawn with such detail that he could see the dimples in the little girl’s cheeks and the tiny freckles on her nose. He sat down on one of the stools and began looking through the rest of the sketch book. Gunner glanced at her phone when it began blaring out the theme to Psycho. He grinned a little when he noted that the screen read mom in bold type. He could relate to her dark sense of humor because there were times when he wanted to pretend that his own mother didn’t exist. 

He didn’t answer, figuring Margo could call her back when she got out of the shower. Setting down the sketch pad, he walked over to the fridge. He wasn’t surprised to find four beers left in the door where he’d put them before they’d split-up because she wasn’t much of a drinker. Margo did drink, just not often and she wasn’t fond of beer. He moved back to the counter and started looking through the sketches again. He was a little annoyed when her phone started ringing a second time. He noted it was the same ring tone so it must be her mother and he wondered if he should answer it.

He didn’t want to fuck things up between them again after they’d just worked things out, so he stared hard at the phone. He took a long swig of his beer wondering if it might be urgent. He was about to answer it when the call was sent to voice mail. He shrugged as he glanced down at the sketch book again, noticing that most of the sketches he was flipping through were ones that he’d already seen, so he shut the book. Taking his beer, he stood up and walked over to sit on the couch, turning on her TV. He was flipping through the channels aimlessly and found a show about some guys who customized motorcycles. He’d been watching it about twenty minutes when her phone started to ring again. Gunner sighed as he got up and grabbed if off the counter and answered it. 

“Hello.” He muttered into the phone.

“Um—oh, I was looking for Margo. She must have changed her number, wait no, I just called this number and got her voicemail. Did she put you up to answering her phone? Are you some stranger she convinced to pretend I had the wrong number? That girl is such a disappointment,” A cultured female voice floated through the receiver.

Gunner clenched his hand on the countertop to keep from telling Margo’s mother off for her snide comment about Margo. He mentally counted to ten, trying not to allow his furious response to her words come out in his tone, as he replied to her questions.

“No ma’am, she’s in the shower. I’m her boyfriend, can I help you?” He asked, already disliking her. He really hoped like hell that she and Margo weren’t close because if they were he was going to have to put up with her bullshit and he hated dealing with toxic people.

“She’s taking a shower with you in her apartment? Don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate?” Gunner was taken back for a moment hearing the rapid-fire questions. After all, they were dating and it wasn’t the Dark Ages. He was about to tell her to mind her own fucking business when he stopped himself, reminding his inner asshole to take a step back because this was Margo’s mother. He couldn’t tell her off or be rude to her, no matter how outdated and old fashion her ideas were. Gritting his teeth, he searched his mind for a reasonable response that he could live with.

“Since I’m in the living room and not in the shower with her, no I don’t believe it is inappropriate, ma’am.”  Gunner felt proud that he’d held back enough not to add bitch at the end of that statement, even though it had been tempting.

“I see,” she said, her voice tight and the long pause after she said it spoke volumes. “Well, tell her that she needs to be here at seven for dinner when she gets out of the shower.” Gunner wasn’t too happy with the tone she’d used, but he bit his tongue. Margo wouldn’t want him to cuss out her mother. Trying to control his temper, he found himself glaring at the photo of Zoey and Margo that was on the wall across from where he was standing. Mentally lecturing himself not to tell this bitch where she could go with her attitude.

“We’ll see you at seven,” Gunner snapped, biting his tongue so he didn’t add anything rude to that statement.

“I—well I didn’t mean for you to come t—,” she began, but he didn’t bother to listen to her stuttering attempt to tell him he wasn’t invited and hung up. He really didn’t give a fuck if she wanted him there or not, if Margo was going to this dinner, then so was he. Margo walked out of her room looking like a vision in a pair of pale blue jeans that were tightly curved to her body and a light blue vest that hugged her breasts. Damn, she looked good but he glanced at the clock. Fuck, they didn’t have time for sex, not unless her mother’s was like five minutes from here.

“How far away is your mother’s place?” Gunner growled, stepping up to her, cupping her hips in his hands, as his mouth lowered towards hers. Her hand landed on his mouth stopping his lips from touching hers.

“Why are you asking me where she lives? I’m pretty sure we aren’t going to my mother’s,” She asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“She called and said we were supposed to be over there at seven for dinner.” Gunner replied, pulling her hand from his mouth. She glared at him, her scowl turning dark and Gunner cringed a little inside.

“Wait, you talked to my mother?” Margo took a step back from him, her hands landing on her hips. She looked angrier than she had when she’d accused him of sleeping around on her, which was disturbing.

“She called while you were in the shower. I was afraid she’d get worried that you weren’t answering after the fourth call, so I answered,” Gunner explained, his hand reaching up to brush a bit of hair off her forehead, his efforts earning a dark glower from her.

Margo let out a loud snort. “Yeah, Helen knows I ignore her calls, it would have been fine.”

“Well, I didn’t know that. You don’t talk about her and I didn’t know that you didn’t answer her calls frequently,” Gunner grunted.

“It’s fine,” Margo muttered, in a tone that stated loud and clear that it wasn’t really okay at all before she added, “I just don’t understand why you would tell her we’d come to her stupid dinner party without asking me first.”

“I didn’t tell her we’d show up, so much as she demanded you be there. I told her we would show up at the time she commanded.” Gunner stated, as he watched her frown and curse vehemently under her breath, shocking him. It was unusual for her to curse and typically it meant she was beyond angry. Gunner silently waited for her to speak again, noting that she looked a little pale.

“Well, isn’t this just fan-freaking-tastic,” Margo snorted.

“Sorry, babe.”

Margo shrugged and waved her hand in the air, as if telling him not to worry about it, but he didn’t like her being so upset. He couldn’t resist the urge to rid her of that look. He cupped her cheek forcing her head to tilt back, her eyes met his, allowing him to see the lost look in her eyes before his lips covered hers in a demanding kiss that brooked no argument. He left her panting and slightly limp when he pulled back to gaze down at her, his eyes dark and possessive. Her eyes were a little hazy and she was flushed, satisfying his inner neanderthal. Margo seemed to shake herself as she glanced up at the clock, her mouth tightening as she turned back to him.

“What time are we supposed to be there?”

“Seven,” he replied.

“Well, we had better get our butt’s in gear then. I wish I had time to explain what you’ve done by saying we would go to this party, but I don’t. I have a feeling that even if I did tell you how bad this is going to get, you still wouldn’t be prepared for the reality.” Margo shook her head looking grim as she checked the time again and sighed heavily. “It takes twenty minutes to get to mom’s place from here, but I need to change my clothes before we leave. While I do that, you need to go to your place and get your khakis—,” Margo didn’t get a chance to finish because he kissed her again, long and hard.

“What we’re wearing is fine, babe.”

“Um, no. Trust me it’s not,” Margo shot back, her eyes wide and her head swinging back and forth like it was on a swivel. 

“Well, I’m not changing and neither are you,” Gunner growled, anger spurting through him. Why was she so unhappy about going to her mother’s for dinner? He loved visiting with his mom, even though he hated when she wouldn’t shut up about his need to settle down. Her talking about him finding some fictional woman and having a dozen kids annoyed him, but visiting her didn’t set off a panicked reaction. Gunner didn’t like that she was pale and shaky when faced with her mother’s dinner party.

“I can’t wear this, Gunner,” Margo said, looking truly panicked at the prospect. “I have to at least change this shirt.”

Remembering the outfit her mother had stuffed her into the first time they met, he could see her shirt being a little risqué in her mother’s mind. He didn’t like her feeling like she needed to change in order to please her mother, but he understood.

“Fine, but just your shirt. You shouldn’t feel like you have to change who you are to go to your mom’s,” he grunted, his hands rubbing up and down her bare arms trying to soothe her. Margo snorted leaning into his arms for a minute before she stepped back.

“That’s likely true, but you haven’t met my mother yet, until you do, you can’t understand,” Margo muttered, as she headed into her bedroom to change. Gunner watched her disappear into her room with a strong feeling he wasn’t going to like her mother.

Chapter Thirteen

Margo walked towards the door with a sense of doom wiggling like worms inside her belly. Since they left her apartment, she’d been trying to calm down, but she wasn’t succeeding. Gunner’s hand on her lower back helped, but not much. Gunner had no idea why she was freaking out over this dinner and he’d said as much, several times before they’d left the apartment. How did you tell the man you were falling in love with that your mother thought you were useless?

More importantly, how was she going to make it through another dinner with her mother and whatever lackluster men she’d chosen to try to set her up with. Gunner wasn’t going to be too happy when he discovered that was exactly why her mother had insisted she be here. Helen saw these parties as a way to try and marry Margo off to any man—she’d chosen—who would take her. She was sure her mother wished it was still the eighteen hundreds when you could sell your daughter to the highest bidder. Gunner had no idea what he was walking into and she wasn’t going to explain that her mother thought she was worthless. Her only value to Helen involved grandchildren—which Margo couldn’t give her.

Margo was glad that she couldn’t have kids every time her mother talked about molding her grandchildren in her image, because they would never have to be exposed to their grandmother’s disapproval. She didn’t like the idea of her child having to experience the bitter nature of Helen Dexter. Smoothing her shirt, she tried to compose herself before they went inside Margo took a deep breath, wondering if she should warn Gunner. Margo didn’t fool herself into thinking if she’d brought an unapproved man to this dinner party that it would stop her mother from trying to set her up with whoever she’d chosen for Margo.

She knew better, and as they neared the door she decided to try one more time to convince him that they should just get back on his bike and leave.

“Just a warning, this isn’t going to go well,” Margo cautioned.

“It will be fine, babe,” Gunner said, not realizing how close this dinner was going to be to a night spent in hell. After being away from him for a week, she’d hoped for a blissfully satisfying night, instead she was getting dinner at her mother’s.

Why did her life suck sometimes?

Gunner rang the doorbell at five-past seven, making them officially late, which would start this dinner off on a sour note. She wasn’t pleased she’d be getting the sharper edge of her mother’s tongue tonight. It took about three minutes for her mother to make her way to the door and open it. For every second of those three minutes, Margo hoped Gunner would change his mind about this ridiculous idea to meet her mother. Before she could plead with him again to leave, the door swung open revealing Helen wearing a dark scowl. Her mother was wearing a long blue dress that was cinched at the waist with pearls and high heels, making Margo inhale deeply. Crap, this was going to be worse than she’d thought.

Any time Helen broke out the pearls, she was trying to impress the man she’d chosen to be the bait in her trap. Margo wanted to turn tail and run, but she felt Gunner’s hand on her lower back almost as if he knew what she was thinking and was warning her he wouldn’t let her do it. Margo swallowed hard and stiffened her spine, meeting her mother’s disapproving gaze. Helen looked Margo up and down shaking her head in dismay, her glare torrid.

“I can’t believe you're wearing that outfit. You didn’t have a decent dress to put on? You look like a streetwalker in that revealing get-up.” Helen folded her hands at her waist looking down darkly at Margo’s shoes. “Are those flip-flops? Really, Margo, would it kill you to wear something that wouldn’t embarrass me just once when I invite you over?”

Margo could feel the scalding disapproval that poured off her mother as Helen glared at her. Margo clenched her teeth, her hands balling into fists because she wasn’t wearing flip-flops, nor was her outfit revealing in any way. She was wearing jeans like Gunner had insisted, paired with her long sleeved white top that covered her modestly and flared out at the hips. Her shoes were white sandals with a small heel that were classy and understated, but hardly looked like flip-flops. She felt Gunner tense behind her, he wasn’t too pleased with her mother’s clear disapproval. Her mother had basically just told her she looked like a common whore, and from the growl Gunner released when she’d said that, he wasn’t too pleased by the comment.

“If you want us to leave, we can,” Margo told her, not in the mood to allow Helen to rip her to shreds. It was one of the reasons she hated visiting or asking her mother for help. Helen felt it was her right to pick away at Margo’s confidence. No matter how hard she tried to ignore Helen’s comments and hard-hearted lack of respect for her only living daughter, it still got under her skin plucking at the confidence she had struggled for years to build.

“Margo, stop being so rude. You know it would be embarrassing for me if my daughter didn’t show up after I told everyone you would be here tonight. I have something for you to change into because I knew you’d show up wearing something inappropriate. You’ll need to remove all that jewelry too because it’s too loud. What possesses you to wear neon green jewelry?” Helen continued, ignoring another dark growl from Gunner. His hand gripped Margo’s arm firmly, and Margo felt her cheeks heat as she wondered what Gunner was thinking. She knew that most people didn’t understand her love of color and she had never asked him if the way she dressed bothered him.

“She isn’t changing her clothing,” Gunner stated, his voice hard in a way that brooked no argument form anyone with half a brain cell. His tone and the way he darkly scowled at Helen, made Margo’s sinking confidence resurface.

“I don’t believe I asked you, young man. I can’t say that I’m surprised that you’re as useless looking as I expected. I don’t know why she always chooses losers to date,” Helen sneered, her eyes flashing up and down Gunner’s plain blue t-shirt and worn blue jeans. Margo had warned him that they should stop and get a change of clothes for him, but he’d refused.

“I won’t say this again, ma’am. She isn’t changing and it’s not up for discussion and if you can’t deal with that then we can leave, otherwise, let’s go inside.” Margo was impressed by his restraint because she knew it was taking everything he had to stop himself from telling her mother to go to hell in a handbasket. 

“Well, I can see she is dating a savage. I should have known that from our phone conversation that you’d be just as bad-mannered in person as you were on the phone. After all, you did invite yourself to my dinner party, which is extremely rude I’ll have you know,” Helen accused, her back straightening as she drew herself up, glaring at Gunner.

“Mother, let’s just go in. You don’t want to keep your guests waiting,” Margo chided, trying to stop the fight her mother was going to get if she kept baiting Gunner. Sending a dark look in Gunner’s direction Helen nodded once and motioned them inside.

Margo let out a breath as they followed behind her mother. She led them down the hall to the fashionable dining room set up with eight chairs. Taking in the room, Margo wanted to groan when she saw who else her mother had invited to this dinner besides her. Five people were sitting at the table and they all turned to look at her and Gunner in the doorway as they entered. It wasn’t surprising that Helen had invited the Bakers. Libby and Cathy Baker were sisters and likely almost as poisonous as her mother was and they’d both hated her since high school. They were twins, and their idea of fun was pulling her dress up in front of half the freshman class back then. Now they settled for snide remarks about her attire and how fat she’d gotten since they last saw her. When their eyes landed on her they both sneered and eyed her outfit with disgust. She wasn’t surprised that Gunner received tittering laughs and flirty little smiles when they moved their gazes to him. Margo ignored them, smiling at Mike Baker, who wasn’t actually a bad guy. He’d always been nice to her and he was about five years older than his sisters. She looked up noting that Mrs. Baker was glaring at her for smiling at her son. Margo swallowed hard, trying not to let the nauseated feeling get the best of her. She glanced at the fifth and final guest, the sick feeling in her stomach intensifying. The man sitting with his back to her had turned towards them eliciting a low moan from her as she realized who her mother was still trying to set her up with.

Damn it, why did her mother invite Kevin?

Actually, she already knew the answer to her silent question. Kevin was part of the church her mother attended and his idea of proper was almost as rigid as Helen’s, which meant he was considered a prime candidate for Margo to marry. Margo almost snorted out loud when that thought passed through her head because that would be a cold day in hell, that was for damned sure.

She hated the little weasel and she really did wonder if he was a child molester or not. He was very involved with the younger kids at the church and she’d always gotten a creepy vibe from him. Maybe it was just the fact that her mother had been trying to shove Kevin her way for the past year as a possible husband, but she didn’t like him at all. She didn’t know why, but she did know she hated him and silently she’d always referred to him as the weasel.

Kevin frowned at her as he took in her clothing, likely thinking along the same lines as her mother did about her attire, not that she cared. Gunner placed his hand on her hip in a possessive caress that made her feel slightly less dismayed at the guests her mother had invited.

“You all remember Margo, my daughter, and this is—sorry not sure what your name is,” Helen sneered, letting him and everyone else know that he wasn’t important enough for her to actually care who he was, as she moved over to the head of the table.

“Gunner Jones, Margo’s boyfriend,” Gunner stated firmly, his eyes cold as he took in the seating arrangements noting that there weren’t two chairs together. Margo had already made that horrifying discovery. There was one chair next to Libby and another one beside Kevin. Margo planned to take the seat beside Libby, unwilling to sit close to Kevin. She took a step forward to head around the table and take the seat beside Libby. Gunner caught her arm, stopping her from moving around the table, Margo looked up at him questioningly.

“I think perhaps some seating rearrangements are in order, because Margo and I need to sit together,” Gunner barked, his eyes narrowed in her mother’s direction.

“I’m quite sure that Margo can sit between Mike and Kevin, while you sit across from her beside Libby,” Helen rudely stated as she took her seat at the head of the table.

Margo could hear Gunner’s teeth grinding as he attempted to stay silent. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, embarrassed that her mother was being so rude to both her and Gunner in front of these people, not that she cared what any of them thought of her. She was about to whisper to Gunner that he should just sit beside Kevin, when Mike suddenly rose from his chair. He turned to look at her and Gunner, his brown hair falling into his eyes as he offered Margo his chair.

“I’ll sit by my sister so you two can sit together,” Mike said, grinning as he moved around the table to take his seat after sending her a little wink, reminding her why she liked him. He had never made her feel like she wasn’t worthy of his respect unlike most of the men her mother tried to push her off on. Helen had a knack for picking out losers for Margo, who thought she should change everything about herself in order to please them.

Gunner grunted and allowed her to sit down in the seat furthest from Kevin, as he took the seat beside him. Margo began playing with her napkin, her nerves strung tight as she waited on her mother’s reaction to this sudden change. If she knew one thing about Helen, it was that she liked getting her way, and when she didn’t, her tongue became sharper than a knife. Gunner settled back in the chair, his large frame taking up a lot of space at the crowded table. He reached out taking her hand in his when he noticed her fidgeting. He laced his fingers with hers before he pulled her hand under the table, resting it on his knee. His thumb began to rub over the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. Surprisingly, it helped her to calm down as her mother uncovered the food and the bowls began to circle the table.

It was all he could do to stay calm as he rubbed Margo’s hand under the table. Since they’d entered the house, Margo’s mother had been systematically tearing Margo to shreds, and he was ready to murder her after only twenty minutes. It didn’t help that the annoying little shit from the picnic was Helen’s obvious choice for Margo. He could read between the lines that she thought her daughter should date that shifty mother fucker instead of him. Gunner hadn’t expected to be instantly disliked by her mother. Maybe after she’d discovered he was with the club, but not from the moment they met. He’d been prepared to convince her mother that he was good enough for her daughter. He’d never thought that Margo’s mother would find her lacking in any way. He was still shocked by the way she talked to her daughter. He supposed he should have expected her to be a bitch after their phone conversation.

He watched as the food was uncovered and the bowls were passed around. He couldn’t help but note the way Margo only put a very small spoonful of mashed potatoes on her plate. He frowned because he knew they were her favorite. It was odd that she got such a small potion instead of her usual liberal amount. He noticed that she kept glancing at her mother before putting food on her plate. Helen was basically ignoring her as she spoke to the older woman next to her, but Margo kept watching her. Gunner took the bowl from her and instead of placing the large spoonful on his own plate, he politely put the mashed potatoes on her plate. She jerked her head in his direction and he nodded before putting twice the amount on his own plate.

Margo didn’t skimp on the rest of her food after he did the same with the gravy and green beans. After that, she just put what he would consider, a normal amount of food on her plate, sending satisfaction roaring through him. Kevin, the little weasel who annoyed the fuck out of him, was talking almost non-stop in that whiny, almost shrill voice of his about how he’d rescued some children overseas by bringing them the word of God when he was away on a mission trip to Africa. Gunner had a feeling the food and fresh water they’d brought with them on that trip had more to do with saving the children than the word of God did. He kept his mouth shut on the subject by keeping a close eye on Margo and her expressions. It was the reason he caught how her face reddened and her eyes clouded when her mother saw her plate, sending a furious need to murder Helen Dexter coursing through him.

“Margo, how many times do I have to tell you that salad is better when you’re on a diet.” Helen Dexter glared disapprovingly at Margo’s plate.

Gunner gripped the tables edge trying not to yell at the bitch because there wasn’t any reason Margo should be on a diet. It would actually be a bad idea for Margo to cut any of the calories she ate because half the time she forgot to even bother. It was part of the reason he’d told Bunny to continue delivering her meals, even after they broke up. Sure, she had love handles on her hips, a slightly curved belly, and some extra jiggle to her wiggle, but nothing that would warrant a diet. He loved every inch of her body and had been sure to show her just how much while they were dating.

“Oh yes, and you should join our extreme aerobics class, Margo. It’s helped me shed twenty pounds.” Libby said from across the table. Gunner glanced at the skinny woman with narrow sharp cheek bones, flat almost non-existent breasts, and thin almost gangly arms, wondering why in the hell she’d be proud that she looked like a teenaged boy.

“I think that’s an excellent idea for Margo.” The little weasel beside him said, making Gunner drop his fork on his plate. He was really starting to get why Margo hadn’t wanted to come here. How could these assholes not realize that they were being rude?

“I don’t know, it seems a little extreme to work out for three hours without a break. I would say Margo is fine just the way she is,” Mike—who’d pissed Gunner off by winking at Margo—said, earning a little respect from him. “Anyone hear about that plane that crashed a week ago? I wonder if they ever discovered what happened to make it crash.”

It was obvious he was trying to steer the conversation away from Margo and despite winking at Gunner’s woman, he seemed like a decent guy. Gunner watched as Margo picked at her food, feeling like an ass for bringing her here when she’d insisted they shouldn’t come. He’d assumed it was an attempt to avoid introducing her biker boyfriend to her mother, but he was quickly realizing that it had nothing to do to with introducing him to her mother and had everything to do with the way she was treated by her mother. He’d never heard so many sly insults and veiled disgusts, since they’d tried to make peace with the Tricky Dicks a few years ago. 

“Margo, did you read that pamphlet I sent to you last week in the mail about that fat camp with the ninety percent success rate?” her mother asked, ignoring Mike’s attempt to change the subject.

Gunner’s fork hit his plate, this time with an audible clang as he stood up abruptly. He moved to stand behind Margo’s chair, pulling it out. He then turned to Helen, with a cold look he hoped she understood, because he wasn’t above slapping her if she insulted Margo again.

“I just remembered something we need to handle, so we will be leaving now,” Gunner grunted, with particular emphasis on the now portion of his statement.

“But—but we’re in the middle of dinner and you haven’t finished eating,” her mother said.

“I’ve had all I can stomach of dinner, thanks.” Gunner cupped Margo’s elbow and helped her to her feet when she didn’t seem to want to move fast enough. He needed to get out of this house and away from this woman before he murdered her. He’d had enough of her insulting Margo to last a lifetime.

“You’re being rude, young man,” Helen accused, standing up.

“Yeah, I’m not the rude one,” Gunner seethed, as he began to guide Margo out of the room with a gentle hand on her back. His back was stiff and his hands were aching from where he’d been clenching the table and his fork while he tried hard to sit there and ignore the way they hurt Margo. He should have listened to her and not brought her here, because he now felt like a dick for thinking she just didn’t want to introduce him to her mother.

Gunner knew she had a soft heart and the things they’d said pulled at the confidence she’d managed to build, despite her mother’s obvious mistreatment of her. He would bet that her mother’s criticism the day she’d been stranded was the reason that she’d accused him of cheating on her a week ago. Her confidence would have been shredded after spending hours listening to her mother’s insults. It made him want to put his fist through a wall that he hadn’t been there for her. He also understood a bit more why she needed someone who put her needs first, because her mother obviously never had. If Gunner had his way, he’d make damned sure Margo never saw this poisonous woman again, even if she was her mother.

“We can stay, Gunner, it’s fine,” Margo offered, as they stepped into the hallway.

“No babe, it’s not fine and if we don’t leave, this is going to get ugly.” Gunner was gritting his teeth as he spoke and he noticed that Margo didn’t argue with him again. She’d likely only protested because she thought she should, not because she wanted to stay here. She was pale and her hands were slightly shaky as he reached out and took one into his own. She let out a little sigh of relief when they walked out the door letting him know he’d made the right choice in getting her out of there. As he climbed on his bike and felt her arms wrap around him, he allowed some of the tension to leave him. When she was settled, he kicked the bike into gear and headed towards his restaurant. He was going to order her every fattening thing on the menu just to make up for those assholes they’d just left. Margo wasn’t fat, she was perfect and anyone who thought she wasn’t, was an idiot.

 Chapter Fourteen

Margo crawled off the back of Gunner’s bike at her apartment complex, feeling beyond stuffed two hours after leaving her mothers. She’d expected to feel awkward and insecure about her size at least until a few days had passed. She’d entered his restaurant with her cheeks burning and her insides quivering, unsure what to say to him. He’d solved her dilemma by sitting her down in his private dining room and ordering every dessert on the menu. He’d spent the last hour spooning sweets into her mouth unapologetically. It was hard to believe he’d do that for over an hour if he thought she was even a little overweight.

Margo hadn’t been surprised that he was angry over the way she’d been treated by her mother, but she had been a little surprised that he didn’t agree that she should be on a diet. It boggled her mind really, because just about everyone she had ever met thought she should go on a diet. After nearly becoming anorexic in high school she hadn’t tried anymore extreme diets. At first, keeping everything she’d ate under five hundred calories a day had seemed like a good idea, at least until she’d passed out one day because her blood sugar was too low. That was the day she’d decided she would never hurt herself again to be beautiful because she didn’t need to.

Margo rubbed her swollen belly, letting out a little groan as Gunner’s arm slid around her waist. His lips brushing against the back of her head in a gentle kiss that made her heart skip a beat. She adored when Gunner touched her in such a loving way because it let her know he cared about her. She realized suddenly that he did little things like that kiss, or the way he’d taken her hand when they were at her mom’s, often brining a smile to her lips.

“You okay, babe?” he asked from behind her, sounding worried.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just really uncomfortable from all the food you stuffed in me,” Margo moaned, laughing a little at the grimace he gave when she tilted her head up to look at him above her.

“Sorry about that, I might have gone a little overboard. I was just so damned mad that they were telling you to go on a diet when I think you’re damned gorgeous, just the way you are. You have to know that what they were saying is bullshit. You don’t need a diet, hell, it could be dangerous for you to cut calories the way you eat.” Gunner was cupping her hips and staring into her eyes, his own clouded with worry that she might still be upset.

“I know that I’m not the typical skinny mini and I haven’t been since I turned eight. Everyone comes in different sizes and I think the world would be a much happier place if they accepted that and moved on. I mean even when I would struggle to do one of my mom’s fad diets, I never really lost more than ten pounds.” Margo shrugged her shoulders.

“Skinny girls are too bony and there isn’t anything for a man to hold onto and we both know how much I love your boobs.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making her laugh and pull away from him as she turned to head into the building.

“Such a typical male. Now I know the truth, it’s my boobs you’re interested in, not me.” Margo didn’t have to wait long for a reaction to her teasing. Gunner’s hand swatted her butt hard. Margo squealed and rubbed the offended area with a little glare at the big bully who’d made her ass hurt.

“Nope, I like every inch of you and when we get upstairs I’ll show you just how much.” Gunner brushed a kiss along her neck as they entered the elevator.

“Not for at least an hour until my stomach stops aching from all the food you stuffed into me,” Margo insisted and rubbed her belly again feeling a little miserable. She glanced at Gunner as the elevator jerked upwards, laughing when she noted that he was pouting because she was going to make him wait for sex.

Gunner’s hand slid along her thigh slowly inching up the shirt she’d thrown on when they began watching this movie thirty minutes ago. Margo pushed his hand back down because she wanted to see how long it would take him to start sliding it up her thigh again. She didn’t have any doubts that it wouldn’t happen, she knew he was horny. She could feel his hard dick pressing against her back, inside the sweat pants he was wearing. He’d changed into the sweat pants when she’d put on the baggy t-shirt that fell below her basic black panties, that she typically wore to bed when Gunner wasn’t with her.

Margo hid her slight smile behind a fake yawn when his hand slipped beneath the hem of her shirt again, seconds after she’d shoved it away. He rubbed little circles on her inner thigh slowly moving up her leg inch by inch making her glad she’d shaved when she was in the shower earlier. They were lying on the couch with her back lying against his front while they watched Aliens on the Sci-fi channel. She was surprised Gunner was getting horny while they watched aliens burst through people’s chests. It had been more than a week since they’d had sex, so maybe she shouldn’t be surprised because she already knew he had a healthy sex drive.

She felt his hand slide further up the inside of her thigh and desire made the muscles in her stomach clench aswhile her breathing quickened. Okay, maybe being horny while watching this movie wasn’t that odd after all. She felt a feather-light brush of his fingers over her panty clad clit and almost let out a moan, but managed to hold it back. Gunner’s teeth gently bit her neck, sending shivers of need through her as she tilted her head allowing him better access. She expected him to suggest they head into the bedroom, but he just kept up those madding little circles and light brushes against her needy pussy. She gasped when his hands tugged at her panties suddenly trying to remove them. She lifted and helped him push them off her legs, his hands slowly slipping over her upper thighs.

Margo could feel the slight calluses on his palms as he caressed her, not rushing the light caresses even when she wiggled trying to get his fingers to give her a firmer pressure or encourage them to slip into her wanton cavern. Margo had always been impressed with Gunner’s restraint, and tonight was no different. He just kept slowly moving his hands up and down her inner thighs, his kisses on her neck gentle. One hand moved to cup her breast, pushing her shirt up to bunch above them as he flicked her nipples, watching them harden further.

“Spread your legs a bit more, babe.” His husky voice against her ear. Margo didn’t argue and folded her legs out. Gunner cupped her pussy, his fingers slipping into her just a little.

“Good girl, now let’s see how much this sweet little cunt has missed me.” Margo’s breath caught at the naughty words said in his deep husky voice, letting out a moan as tingles ran up and down her spine. He was so sexy and when he talked to her in that dark needy voice, it made her want to do anything he asked.

“Mmm, so wet for me, I like that,” Gunner whispered, with two fingers pushing inside her while his other hand tugged at her swollen nipple. “I’ve missed this sweet little pussy while I was away.” He showed her how much by rubbing her clit with his thumb as he moved his fingers inside her slowly. Gunner’s other hand pulled and tugged at her hardened nipples. Margo couldn’t tell if she was slowly melting from desire because of their separation, or because she was watching him caress her body. It was hot seeing his fingers slip in and out of her pussy. She gasped when he flicked her nipple a little. Gunner pressed up with his hips pushing his hard cock against her back, rubbing slightly as he fingered her. She knew he must be watching himself caress her, getting as hot and turned on as she was.

“If I wasn’t so turned on watching you right now, I would ram my cock into you so hard I know I’d feel your hot juices sliding down my thighs as my thick rod would be clenched in this tight little box.” Gunner’s voice was darkly sensual, making her thighs clench as her orgasm neared.

Margo couldn’t help the way her hips rose seeking more penetration from his hard fingers as he left little nipping kisses along her jaw. His hand on her breast cupped her rounded flesh, while his thumb and forefinger rolled its tip. Margo gasped as his teeth scraped across her skin, adding another sensation to the mix of pleasures bombarding her senses. Margo watched as he teased her nipple, his finger circling it slowly, making her feel like she’d come at any second from all the sensations that assaulted her body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Gunner growled, as he continued his assault.

Margo couldn’t breathe as her body began to tremble and shake, shattering her world into a million pieces as her orgasm struck her hard. She panted and shook for what seemed like forever with Gunner’s gentle caresses bringing her down from her peak slowly. Her breathing evened out and she started to feel the gentle caresses. His hand was still between her legs with two fingers still inside her, but unmoving while his thumb caressed her furiously twitching clit.

Margo had missed this almost blissfully calm feeling after he made her come more than she’d realized. It was hard to give up a man who had such mastery when it came to sex. He never rushed her through the bliss after he’d made her come and he always made sure she came before he did. He shifted beneath her, reminding her that he hadn’t come yet when his hard cock poked her in the back. Margo pushed against the couch to sit up and after a short grapple, he allowed her to stand up beside the couch. She reached out, freeing his cock before she climbed on him straddling his hips. Gunner growled as her wet pussy rubbed against his cock. He placed his hands on her hips beneath the shirt she was still wearing.

He began roughly pushing the shirt up growling thickly, “Take this off, babe.”

Margo grabbed the shirt and tore it off, tossing it on the table next to them. She let her hands land on his bare chest, caressing his hot skin as she rubbed herself against his hard dick. Gunner grunted, his hand gripping her ass tightly, trying to still her movements.

“I’m close, babe. You need to stop wiggling or this is going to be over too quickly, I’m already too worked up.” His words made her feel twice as sexy as his attention to her body had. Margo loved that he liked to talk during sex. Sometimes he was dirty and demanding, and others he was like tonight, right on the edge of dirty talk without going over. His hands held her hips as she pressed the tip of his cock against her soaked entrance looking down at him. His eyes were like molten lava as he stared up at her, not moving to enter her, even though she knew he had to be impatient for her to take him inside her. 

This was another thing she loved about sex with Gunner. When he allowed her to be in control, he didn’t take over. He just waited, no matter how much he wanted her to move. She hovered over him with just his tip in her pussy for a long moment watching him burn before she slowly sank down allowing his hard cock to slide inside her wet grip. Margo moaned when she felt herself fully impaled by his thick length. Gunner’s hands cupped the cheeks of her ass, a hiss escaping him.

“I know you want to control this, babe, but I need to fuck you,” he gritted out, trying not to take over.

“So, fuck me,” Margo taunted, earning a warning growl from Gunner as he gripped her ass, somehow managing to flip them so he was on top without pulling out of her. He stared down at her, his eyes burning with lust, and his body tense from holding back.

“Hold on,” Gunner grunted, before she felt him pull out and slam back into her, making her cry out as she gripped his arms. Gunner continued to move back and forth inside her, grunting as he pumped hard and fast. His finger slipping down to tease her clit while he fucked her. Her body was already starting to shake from the second orgasm that was hovering just out of reach and promised to be stronger than her first mind-blowing one had been. Margo cried out his name as she felt her world narrow to the place where their bodies connected, as her nails dug into his arm. She couldn’t help the wanton little pants that escaped her as Gunner slammed in and out.

“Fuck yeah, come for me, babe. I need to feel you ripple all around my cock like hot lava before I come.” Gunner was sweating and his face was contorted as he pumped inside her trying not to come before she did. She could tell he was desperate to hold on, by the way his body tensed and his lips crashed against hers. His finger brushed her clit over and over in a maddening caress that drove her wild. She felt like her world was splintering and her entire body bowed up into his, as her orgasm ripped a scream of Gunner’s name from her lips.

“Fuck—Margo,” Gunner cried, as he began to come with a loud groan of satisfaction. His body slowly coming to a stop as he collapsed forward onto her breasts, breathing hard and quick. Margo lay beneath him with her world slowly coming back into focus; her heart pounding loudly in her ears as she rubbed his back gently, waiting for him to recover. It took almost three minutes of his heavy weight pinning her to the couch for him to sit up and look down at her as he pulled his cock from her.

“You have no idea how much I really needed that. Jacking off in the shower to fantasies of you just isn’t the same, not when you tell me to fuck you. I wish I could explain how hot it is when you say that to me, babe,” Gunner muttered, as he sat back on his side of the couch pulling his pants back up. Margo smiled, feeling the wetness coating her thighs making her realize that they’d forgotten something very important.

“We didn’t use a condom, Gunner,” Margo grimaced.

Shit, was he clean?

She knew he couldn’t get her pregnant, but there were other things that he could give her. Margo felt horror flood through her when he didn’t speak for a long moment, as if thinking about what to say before he spoke. She was about to demand that he tell her when he finally began to speak, sending relief flooding through her.

“It’s fine, babe. I use condoms religiously and I got tested for STD’s last year, the tests came back clean. Knowing you as I do, I’m sure you are too.” Margo noted that he didn’t say anything about children and she wasn’t about to say anything because she wasn’t ready to tell him that she couldn’t have them. She felt a hard knot of tension in her stomach as she realized that his club might not be the only thing that ruined their budding relationship.

“Stop worrying about it we’re good, I promise. Let’s go take a shower.” Gunner lifted her into his arms and started to move towards the bedroom.

“Wait!” Margo yelped, trying to grab her shirt off the coffee table where it had landed without him putting her down or stopping. Gunner just grunted and continued to carry her into her bedroom.

“Yeah, we’re not going to need that.”

Margo knew that she wouldn’t need it, but she was trying to keep him from feeling like every time he came over, all he did was clean up after her. It was something she didn’t want him to become angry about. It wasn’t that she couldn’t clean up after herself; it was just that she didn’t enjoy it and would paint instead of clean.

“I just wanted to get it in the hamper so you don’t have to clean it up in the morning,” Margo told him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“It’s not a big deal, babe. You’re much cleaner than those bastards at the club, trust me. I’ve never come in here to find a layer of grime on the counters, or week-old used condoms on the table.” Gunner said, earning a cringe from Margo.

“You’re right, that will never happen,” Margo said, enjoying the sound of Gunner’s laugh as he kicked open the bathroom door and carried her inside.

“It had better not, because I can guarantee you I will murder any man who touches you,” Gunner warned. Margo clung to his neck as he carried her, unsure if he was serious or if that was a joke, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he meant it.

Chapter Fifteen

Gunner pushed his hand through his hair, a little nervous that Margo was coming to this bonfire party tonight. He didn’t worry that something would happen to her, just that she wouldn’t approve. Over the past few months, he’d been introducing her to the club slowly. He’d started by bringing Bunny with him a few times to her place. He wanted her to see that his club wasn’t filled with bad men, just ones who didn’t follow society’s rules, not that he’d trust her safety with any man in the club. There were a few that weren’t ever going anywhere near her without finding themselves on the wrong end of a gun, but for the most part, the men in his club were good men. Then he’d invited the boys over a few nights a week to play poker. He also took her to a birthday party for one of the teens they had taken in a little over a week ago. Todd was thirteen and Gator had invited all the kids he knew to the party, trying to make the kid feel normal. It wasn’t an easy thing to show a kid who’d been neglected since he was two. Todd’s mother had died, leaving his father to care for him. That wouldn’t have been such a bad thing if his father wasn’t a heroin addict.

Gator had found him locked in a bedroom when he was ten. His father had left him there for over two days without food. Thankfully, he’d had a small stash of food and water in his room that had kept him alive. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time his father had forgotten about him. Gator had bought the kid from his father for ten hits and a case of Cuban cigars. He and his old lady, Morgan, had taken the kid in raising him like he was their own. Margo had been surprised the party wasn’t a drunken brawl. He knew she was shocked that fifteen bikers, twenty-two kids, and ten old ladies were almost normal. Bonfire parties however, were different.

Most of these parties were drunken free-for-alls; with naked women, drinking, drugs, and pit fights. Not that he planned on staying long enough for her to see too much of the real crazy shit that happened late at night when everyone was drunk. Most of the men with old ladies didn’t stay for that shit anyway. Gunner ran a hand over his face nervously. His stomach was in knots and he couldn’t seem to stay still. Last night at church, they’d voted and Margo was accepted as his old lady, which was a relief, because now he could patch her, but he wasn’t sure if this party might make her decide his life wasn’t for her.

She’d only seen the nice parts of the club so far and tonight some of the darker parts were going to be revealed to her and she might not handle it well. Fuck, he realized he was bent over this shit in a way he hadn’t been bent in a long-damned-time because he was in love with her. Over the past six months, he’d fallen hard for his beautiful, quirky artist and losing her scared him shitless. 

“What’s crawled up your ass today?” Buck asked, entering the clubhouse with Joker and Dice behind him.

“Nothing,” Gunner replied, not willing to talk about how freaked out he was about Margo attending this party tonight.

“Uh-huh, that’s why you’re wearing a hole in the floor boards,” Dice commented, shaking his head. “Try again, we know you better than that.”

“It’s not something I want to talk about.”

“Ah, it’s the chick. She’s always got you all twisted,” Buck remarked, pulling a burger from the fast food bags they’d brought in with them.

“I don’t get why you’d be bent about some chick. Just fuck her and move on, that’s what I do.” Joker said, shoving fries into his mouth.

“Shut up, Joker. Your dick doesn’t have to be in every conversation,” Buck muttered, shaking his head.

“I wasn’t talking about my dick, asshole. I was talking about chicks,” Joker complained, his mouth half full as he protested.

“Gross. Stop talking with your mouth full, idiot. He means you don’t have to tell us you’re a man whore, we are already aware. This is a big boy conversation so stay out of it, prospect,” Dice growled, shaking his head.

“Fine, I’ll just eat and leave then,” Joker pouted.

Gunner was reminded of a kicked puppy and let out a long sigh. He liked Joker, as did most of the men in the club and he’d bet another month or two and he’d be getting his bottom rockers. Joker grabbed another burger and began stuffing it into his mouth and his sympathy for the other man disappeared.

“What’s the issue this time? Thought you were patching her?” Buck asked, eating his onion rings watching him.

“I will be if she doesn’t refuse after tonight’s bonfire.” Gunner leaned back into the chair staring up at the ceiling, his mind going in ten different directions about what could go wrong or what could happen that would drive her away. Margo was pretty easy-going and she seemed happy with him over the past few months.

“I don’t get why you’re all panicked. Haven’t you been introducing her to the club for like six months? If she hasn’t run yet, I think you’re good.” Buck rolled his eyes as he grabbed some ketchup and squeezed it out on one of the food wrappers to dip his fries in.

“Yeah, I mean hell, you brought Stoner over the other night and he was tweaking like a mother fucker and she was cool with it. She just went in her room and painted. You’re the one acting like a girl here. She seems like a sweet woman and I don’t think she is going to dump you because your friends are idiots. As long as you don’t start pulling any of the shit they do, you’re good.” Dice punched him in the arm after his little speech. “Stop being a whiny bitch.”

Buck chuckled nodding, “I already told him that. His balls must still be under Margo’s bed.”

Gunner didn’t appreciate their amusement at his expense and he couldn’t say after this chat with these three assholes that he would be any calmer than he had been before. He just hoped they were right and Margo didn’t jump ship after tonight.

Margo looked at her clothes, frowning. Her nerves twisting her into knots. What did one wear to a bikers’ bonfire party? She had no freaking idea. After six months with Gunner, she knew that despite the club seeming like it would be frightening, it really wasn’t. She wasn’t deluded, she knew that they weren’t angels or just misunderstood. Nope, they were hard men, but they lived by a code, one that included protection for anyone they called their own.

Margo hadn’t thought knowing she could ask any one of the men in Gunner’s club to handle any problem she had would ever feel comforting but somehow it did, even if it involved something illegal. She knew that if she was with Gunner she could count on the men he ran with to have her back. The past few months had taught her that the club was more like family than she would have expected from watching the news reports about them. Having a mother like hers allowed her to see the benefits to having a family you could count on.

Yeah, maybe they didn’t stay on the right side of the law most of the time, but she would never find a group of people more willing to help you when you needed it. Gunner said they didn’t sell people the hard stuff—meaning heroin or cocaine—and if that was true she didn’t have any issue with them doing whatever it was they did, as long as she wasn’t involved. Gunner had explained that she’d never be a part of the illegal stuff because they kept club business on a need-to-know basis. She was good with that, although it worried her a little when he left on business because she knew he could end up in jail, hurt, or even—Lord forbid—dead.

Thoughts of Gunner being gone from her life nearly broke her because she was already in love with him. Margo couldn’t imagine her life without him after eight months. When they’d gotten back together, she hadn’t been sure how they would work with his world being so dark, but somehow they did. Gunner had moved in after a month. She’d thought that she wouldn’t like being around his brothers, but even with them showing up to play poker or to pick him up, she’d discovered that most of them were just people.

They goofed around and messed with each other’s heads like real siblings and they were respectful of her. Hell, last month when Gunner was on a run, she’d taken some of her work to an art show in town to see if she could sell any of it. Zoey had come over to help her transport it to the event, but Joker and Bunny had arrived, just before she did. Margo had been surprised to see them and when they’d asked what needed loading, she’d realized that they were there to take her to the art show. The two of them had loaded everything into a large van and drove her and Zoey to the event. They’d helped set up the tent she’d rented from the venue and hung all her work for her while she and Zoey had chatted.

Zoey had commented on how sexy both men were and that she wouldn’t mind getting busy with one of them. Margo had laughed and told her in a whisper not to go after Joker because he was a man-whore. She’d discovered that from Gunner and the boys’ teasing. Margo had expected them to leave after setting up, but they hadn’t. Standing off to the side of the booth they’d stayed out of the way, but were keeping an eye on her. When she would sell a piece, they carted it out of the tent or hung a new one in its place. That was the moment she realized that they weren’t only there for Gunner when he needed them—they were there for her too. It was a novel experience since Zoey was the only person in her life that had ever filled that role. Having a group like Gunner’s band of bikers at her back was a nice feeling.

Margo reached out grabbing a black leather skirt that hit just above her knees, but had a slit that went up to mid-thigh on one leg. Maybe with pink accessories? She couldn’t decide. Gunner had left this morning to help them set up the bonfire, but he’d said he’d be back at six and it was five twenty. She needed to figure this out. Wearing a skirt on Gunner’s bike was hard, but she’d gotten good at not flashing her panties to the world over the last few months. Her car wasn’t something she used often anymore because they always took his bike. That meant it only got driven when he wasn’t with her, which was rare since he’d moved in with her.

She walked over to her drawers, finding a hot pink top she’d always loved. It was a V-neck with short sleeves and a funky skull painted on the front. Skulls and leather seemed like they’d work at a biker’s party. Gunner had warned her that things sometimes got a little crazy at these parties, but she already knew these guys partied hard. She’d seen it when they were over playing poker with Gunner. How he thought she couldn’t see the huge amounts of alcohol they went through, or smell the drugs they smoked while playing, was beyond her.

It didn’t bother her, as long as Gunner wasn’t drunk constantly or drugged out of his mind on something heavy like heroin. In college, she’d smoked a little weed, but she hadn’t really felt like it did anything for her, so she’d never really gotten into it. Gunner didn’t do drugs for the most part, but she’d seen him take a few hits off the bong a time or two. Margo didn’t know how he could think she was that clueless.

She pulled on the skirt and shirt looking at herself in the mirror. It needed something. She found some bracelets in her jewelry with pink skulls and earrings that matched. Wearing them she decided that she looked good. Hopefully this was okay for a bonfire party, because Gunner had been little help. His wear-whatever-you-want babe, hadn’t told her anything about how to dress for this thing. She went into the bathroom adding a few pink streaks to her hair before grabbing her half boots. She sat down and turned on the TV deciding after flipping through the channels to watch a re-run of The Walking Dead while she waited on Gunner to get back.

Gunner unlocked the door feeling his tense muscles clench as he entered the apartment. He needed to change his clothes and give her his patch before they left for the bonfire tonight and it wasn’t something he wanted to rush. Giving Margo his patch was a big deal to him and the club. Holding the small package he’d wrapped her patch in, he walked into the living room and set it down on the end table. Margo was sitting on the couch in the cutest pink shirt, with pink streaks in her hair. Her breasts were displayed nicely by the top and he wished they had time for him to strip that top off her and worship those tits before they left but they didn’t. She was using the throw to cover her legs making him wonder what she was wearing with that top. Maybe those jeans he loved seeing on her because they cupped her ass just right. Or maybe those shorts with the pink stripes that were easy to slide off her? Damn, he really wished he had time to fuck her, but he needed to get his patch on her and get her to this party before it got too wild. She glanced at him smiling sweetly, making his cock tighten as he walked closer to where she was lying on the couch.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hi, is this outfit okay?” she asked standing up, making Gunner almost swallow his tongue. Holy fuck, now that was a hot outfit. His cock nearly ripped through his jeans trying to get at her pussy it was so hot. He hadn’t ever seen her wear that skirt and he wanted to push it up her legs and slide his cock into what he knew would be her wet cunt.

“Um—what?” he asked, unable to focus on anything except the fantasies that were playing out hot and heavy inside his head.

“Is it okay to wear tonight?” she asked, her head tilting to the side as she frowned at him.

Gunner knew she was waiting for a response to her question, but his brain wasn’t processing anything other than his need to grab her and shove his cock into her. He stepped closer, his hand sliding up her legs groaning when he discovered a long slit in the side of the skirt she was wearing.

“Damn babe, are you trying to kill me?” he asked with his hand caressing her thigh under the skirt.

“No, why, is this not okay to wear?” Margo asked as her body pressed into his.

“Depends,” Gunner muttered, his hands cupping the globes of her ass under the leather.

“On what?”

“Are you going to let me kill any man who looks at you for more than a minute while you’re wearing it or not? Because if any of these fantasies going through my head are in any other man’s head, I’m going to rip his nuts off.” Gunner growled against her lips as he kissed her. His tongue thrust into her mouth and he rubbed his aching cock against her. Her tongue met his, in a duel of mutual need as he slid her panties off with his thumbs. Fuck waiting until they got back, he needed to be inside her now. The skirt was too hot not to explore—but she wasn’t wearing it to the fucking bonfire because any fucker could visualize her the way Gunner was, and that just wasn’t fucking happening.

Chapter Sixteen

Gunner helped Margo pull on her jeans and buttoned them up for her, his hands reaching around to caress her ass. He’d just made love to her while she held onto the back of the couch in that hot little skirt, but now they needed to get a move on.

“I still think it’s silly that I can’t wear that skirt out Gunner. I’ve worn it before when Zoey and I went to the club,” Margo muttered looking up at him.

“Yeah, we are not going to talk about that, it’s not up for debate. That skirt is only worn in this house and nowhere else babe, end of discussion. I don’t ever want to hear about you wearing that out because it’s going to make me insane thinking of some asshole fucking you in his mind while you were wearing it,” Gunner grunted stepping away after a loving squeeze of her flesh.

“That’s ridiculous.” Margo rolled her eyes.

“Don’t make me burn my favorite skirt Margo. I will do it despite how I would morn the beautiful thing.” Gunner wasn’t kidding, after being driven to fuck her instantly in that leather skirt, he wasn’t letting her wear it anywhere that it would make other men lust after his woman.

Wasn’t happening.

“That’s crazy Gunner, you know that’s crazy but whatever.” Margo shrugged and he smiled back at her. He nodded and headed into the living room to get her patch. It was already almost eight and they needed to get this show on the road if they were going to the bonfire party before it got crazy.

“I have something to give you.” Gunner felt nerves pull at him, but he shoved them down, went to the living room and reached down for the colorfully wrapped package he’d dropped on the table earlier.

“I’m sure you already gave me that Gunner and we’re supposed to be getting ready to go to a bonfire party, not having multiple orgasms again.” Margo laughed as she walked out of the bedroom after him.

“I always want to give you those babe, but I meant this,” he said holding out the gift, his hands a little unsteady as he saw her eyes land on the colorfully wrapped package in his hand. Gunner watched her eyes widen and felt his heart start to pound in his ears as he waited on her to take it. Gunner wasn’t sure why handing her his patch was so nerve-wracking. He knew she would understand because after her first few interactions with the club, she’d asked about Gator’s old lady’s patch. He’d explained that it meant she was Gator’s property. She’d freaked out and gotten angry until Sandy—Gator’s old lady—walked up having heard them talking.

She’d laughed and told him he wasn’t explaining it right. Margo had turned and demanded that the woman explain. She told Margo that a patch meant that they were married in the eyes of the club. She was Gator’s wife and they treated her with respect because she belonged to him. That had calmed Margo down and she stopped freaking out on him. Gunner had appreciated Sandy’s help because he’d be at a loss as to how to explain it to Margo.

Gunner was holding out a package wrapped in what looked like a little kids birthday paper. Margo felt a grin tug at her lips as she stepped closer to him. It wasn’t even wrapped well. The corners were oddly folded and there were tears taped up all over the paper.

“Did you wrap that yourself?” She asked trying not to laugh.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “I thought it would be nice in some colorful paper. You like color so I found the colorful paper.”

She couldn’t stop the laughter anymore because it was just too funny to imagine Gunner standing in the store beside a display of wrapping paper grabbing the most colorful paper he could find. Paper that happened to be sporting a bunch of abstract Angry Birds. It wasn’t what she would have chosen to wrap a gift for an adult, but it was the thought that counted and he’d put a lot of thought into his selection.

“What’s so damned funny?” Gunner asked, a worried frown on his face.

“You realize this is kids wrapping paper, right? I’m not complaining or anything, but just thought you should know that,” she said to him as she took the package from him. He frowned and glared at the box in her hands.

“I just thought it was colorful and you like colorful wrapping paper. Gator didn’t tell me it was kids paper, damned asshole,” Gunner growled, looking angry.

“It’s fine, I do like it. Angry Birds are my favorite anyway.” Margo lied, soothing his angry because he’d tried to do something nice for her and that was what mattered. It was more than her mother had ever done when she was younger. Her sister had been the only reason she’d ever gotten anything for Christmas or her birthday. Despite her mother’s obvious favoritism, her sister had never been cruel or mean to Margo. Her sister had a kind and giving soul, and losing her had been hard for Margo as a teen.

She stood holding her package wishing she could snap a picture without upsetting him. This would crack Zoey up, it was the homeliest package she’d ever received. She pulled at the tape on the edge of the package because she had no idea with the amount of tape on the darned thing, how the heck she was getting it open otherwise. The tape wouldn’t budge so she tried another corner. Gunner made a sound of impatience and took it from her hands jerking the tape off making her laugh at his put-upon expression and his little eye roll.

“It’s tragic, I know. I never wrapped shit before and apparently OCD doesn’t help,” Gunner grimaced handing her back the box, minus the paper that was now lying on the table next to them. Margo couldn’t help another little laugh as she took it from him and opened the box. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart felt like it skipped several beats. Inside the box, folded oddly into a very neat even square was a leather vest like the ones the old ladies wore. Only this one said, property of Gunner - Grave Diggers MC on it. She couldn’t believe it, he’d just pretty much asked her to marry him.

Holy shit! Margo felt tears stinging her eyes as she stared at the vest she’d greedily removed from the box and unfolded. She didn’t know what to say or do with this because it was something she hadn’t really expected from him. Sure, he’d moved into her apartment and introduced her to his club, but hell she hadn’t even met his mother yet.

“But I haven’t even met your mother yet,” Margo blurted out and almost groaned as she realized how stupid those words sounded. For cripes sake, she was an idiot. Gunner’s head tilted and his brow raised.

“Is that a requirement I’m unaware of babe?” he asked deadpan.

“Um, no I guess not, but typically before a man asks a woman to…er, be his wif—old lady, wouldn’t he at least introduce her to his mother?” Margo wanted to hit her head on the table because she suddenly had verbal diarrhea.

Shut up! Just shut up, Margo.

“She doesn’t decide who I make my old lady. My brothers voted you in and that’s what matters,” Gunner advised, tilting his head to the side watching her. “But if you want to meet my mother I’m not opposed.”

“Your brothers voted on our relationship?” Anger was starting to burn inside her and Gunner must have sensed the brewing storm because he rushed to explain.

“Yeah, see when a brother wants to make a woman his old lady, it’s brought up in church—that’s where I go Wednesday nights. It’s like a meeting I guess—and we vote to decide if she should be part of the club. It’s like that because when a man takes an old lady, it’s also the clubs responsibility to take care of her if anything happens to him.”

When he put it like that, a vote did seem unreasonable. If you were going to be responsible for someone you should get a say. Her anger dissipated leaving her pensive. Just when she thought she understood their life, she learned something new about Gunner’s club. It made Margo wonder if she’d ever discover how close knit their life truly was.

“Will you wear it?” Gunner asked, looking a little pale as he asked the question making Margo realize that like any man, he was worried she’d say no to his proposal. It was sweet that he cared so much about her response.

“Yes,” Margo said, “But I want to meet your mother.”

“Done, I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Gunner nodded and twirled her around snatching the patch from her hands to help her put it on. She laughed when her arm was caught somehow in the wrong arm hole making her smack his hands away.

“I can put it on myself, thanks.”

“That’s likely best.” Gunner grunted, allowing her to take it off and put it on again. Margo couldn’t help the grin that curled her lips, as she watched him nod with a look of possessiveness slipping over his face.

“You know if we don’t go to this party, your friends are likely to think we aren’t going to show up,” Margo teased earning a smile from Gunner, as his hand cupped her cheek.

“Trust me babe, no one would even notice. It’s not a mandatory thing, it’s just a way for the club to let loose. You’re right though, we should leave.” Gunner kissed her lips softly. Just a light brush of his lips on hers before he hooked her arm into his and led her towards the door.

It took them about thirty minutes to arrive at the bonfire and Margo was a little nervous as she climbed off the bike using Gunner’s shoulders. She glanced around seeing a large fire off to the right of a huge house that looked sort of like an old-style boarding house. Men and women were everywhere and she could hear a band or radio playing music somewhere in the yard. Margo felt Gunner’s arm slip around her waist and he led her towards the fire and music.

“Babe, we won’t stay here long because it gets a little too wild in a few hours.” Gunner’s voice was a little worried and she finally turned to look up at him seeing the almost pained expression on his face.

“Gunner, stop worrying. I know about the drugs and other things that likely go on around here after it gets late, it’s okay. I’ve been to frat parties in college and trust me when I say, nothing is going to surprise me.” Margo hugged him, kissing his hard lips, and feeling his arms tighten around her, a long sigh escaped him.

“I can tell you that this will be wilder than a frat party,” Gunner whispered, as he pressed his face into her hair, inhaling deeply.

“You mean wilder than orgies in the back room, drugs passed around like candy, drunken brawls, and naked chicks?” Margo questioned wondering how that was possible because frat parties got out of hand more often than not once everyone was drunk or high. She and Zoey had gone to a few of them in college and they had been very eye opening for a kid with a religious background. She’d never gotten drunk or taken anything, but she’d watched others go down that rabbit hole.

“Um, well—wait, that shit happens at frat parties?” Gunner asked with a surprise on his face as he stared down at her, followed by a frown. “How many of those were you at and why did you go?”

Margo smiled at his darkly handsome, scowling face as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his chin which was as far as she could reach on her tiptoes. He was so cute when he got all growly and concerned about something that had happened in the past.

“Yeah, that shit happens. Those parties are no less wild than this one I would bet. The only difference is that it’s more likely open here and not locked in a back room and people are less likely to have inhibitions about stripping or screwing right out in the open. Am I right?” Margo asked already prepared for seeing way more tits and ass than she’d ever wanted to see.

She could still remember being nineteen and walking into that room where the orgy was happening. Bodies in various sex positions all over the room with more skin than clothes and lots of moaning and groaning. It had been a shock. Carl—her boyfriend at the time, had tried to get her to join in and she’d refused. She’d already been pregnant at the time, but hadn’t known that yet. Her relationship was strained after her refusal to join the orgy with him and when she’d told him two weeks later about the baby he’d called her a lying whore and broken up with her. 

“Pretty much, but we won’t be staying long enough for too much crazy shit to happen.” Gunner said firmly.

“I’m okay with anything two people of age want to do, but I won’t be joining any orgies or any threesomes for that matter,” Margo stated firmly, earning a glare from Gunner.

“You think I would share you babe? Have you fucking lost your damned mind? I just patched you, and you think I would be offering you up to other men? Fuck that, I’d cut off their dicks before they got anywhere near my pussy.” Gunner cupped said pussy as if protecting it. Margo blushed bright red and shoved his hand away from her crotch with a little smack on his shoulder.

“Remember that because the same goes for women, I won’t share you either. You sleep around and I won’t stay with you,” Margo warned, feeling the heat still burning her cheeks.

“I already know that would hurt you Margo, I wouldn’t do that to you, babe. You mean too much to me.” He was gazing down at her seriously, his eyes holding a promise that tugged at her heart because she knew the kind of man he was and if he said he wouldn’t hurt her like that then he wouldn’t.

She realized as he stared down at her with his gaze steady and piercing, that even if he hadn’t said it to her any more than she’d said it to him, he loved her. It was there in his eyes as he looked down at her. It was a silent promise that stole her breath and made her heart pound in her ears. Gunner was leaning down to kiss her when she was grabbed from behind by a hard male arm and pulled away.

“Hey, none of that mushy crap. Come on darlin’ the club wants to meet you.” A male voice said, as he let her go and grinned at Gunner who scowled at him.

“Buck, you’re an asshole.”

“Never said I wasn’t. Nice to meet you, I’m Buck.” The man had a rugged face and a scar across his left cheek, jet-black hair, and a hard jaw. He nodded to her and a small grin tugged at his lips. Buck wasn’t what she would call a typically handsome man, but he was sexy in a dark burn-your-panties-off with a look kind of way. Not that he had anything on Gunner who sent desire spiking through her with a single glance.

“Margo,” she said, still staring at him. Gunner growled and came up behind her jerking her back into his body possessively.

“Taken.” He growled at Buck who shrugged and chuckled.

“I know that brother, besides, she’s a good girl and you know they give me hives,” Buck retorted, winking at Margo.

Somehow that wink told her all she would ever need to know about Buck. He was a guy she’d never have to worry about her safety or her virtue when she was with him. He was the dark knight that rescued fair maidens and he had no idea. She would bet he wasn’t as dark and cold as he pretended he was. He likely had a gooey, sweet inner lining just like Gunner. She grinned knowing from that short interaction that she and Buck were going to get along just fine. 

“Yeah, and it had better stay that way asshole, because she’s mine,” Gunner warned as his arm tightened around her. Margo wasn’t sure how she felt about his jealousy. He had no reason to be jealous and she shouldn’t be a little turned on about it but she was. Margo pulled away from him and glared at him just to be sure he knew that she wasn’t messing around.

“I’m not a bone you have to protect, nor am I likely to run off the first handsome guy I see Gunner, so stop being a jerk.” With that, she walked over to Buck hooking her arm into his, ignoring the little growl from Gunner as she did so.

“Let’s go meet the club then,” Margo said, glancing over her shoulder to see a little smile on Gunner’s face, despite the vicious sounding growl he’d let out a second ago. She winked at him and allowed Buck to drag her to the fire with Gunner trailing behind them. 

Chapter Seventeen

Margo felt her insides shake a little, her nerves made her uncomfortable as they pulled up outside Gunner’s mother’s house a week after the bonfire party. Things had been really good between them and she didn’t want that to change. She loved him and meeting his mother seemed to her, like the last hurdle they needed to jump over before they could settle into their life as a couple for good. She was wearing her cut over a white t-shirt and jean shorts despite the original boring blue dress her mother had bought her that she’d pulled from the closet and intended to wear. Gunner had seen it and sighed before he, as-polite-as-you-please, lifted it and carried it out of the bedroom. Margo had frowned and followed him to the kitchen where he’d literarily took a knife and cut the thing to bits.

Margo had shrieked and told him to stop but he’d ignored her. She’d demanded to know what she was going to wear to his mother’s and he’d looked at her with a raised brow. ‘Something more you,’ he’d replied before he’d gone into the living room and started flipping through channels. Margo had been at a loss for words but with no other choice she’d searched her wardrobe for something to wear and this was the best she could do. She just hoped her experience with his mother wouldn’t go anything like the experience with her mother had gone for him.

Gunner didn’t seem worried at all and he’d only frowned a little at her outfit, but apparently decided it would work because he hadn’t taken a knife to it while she was in the shower. As they walked up the little drive that was lined with poppies, Margo wrung her hands. As they neared the door, her throat felt tight and her shoulders were tense. Gunner brushed his hand along her spine trying to reassure her as he rang the doorbell.

Margo waited for the door to open with her nerves jangling and her palms sweating. When the door swung open, a dark haired, rather chunky woman stepped out onto the porch and gave a warm welcoming smile, Margo felt herself relax. 

“Oh, aren’t you just a beauty.” Martha Jones said, smiling from ear to ear. “I’m Martha Jones, this rapscallion’s mother.”

Margo smiled suddenly feeling a lot less worried about this dinner. “Margo Dexter, it’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Jones. I’m surprised we haven’t met at any of the churches functions.”

“Yes, I remember you. We’ve never chatted, but you’re always helping with the events, which is so nice of you. And none of that Mrs. Jones stuff, call me Martha.” Margo felt a little shamed by the praise because most of the things she did with the church were things her mother guilted her into doing.

“You sly devil, you. Dating Helen Dexter’s daughter, while telling me you weren’t ever going to get married. Come in, come in, dinner’s almost ready,” Martha said over her shoulder to her son, before grabbing Margo’s arm and tugging her into the house. Margo entered behind Martha, looking around curiously at the house he’d grown up in. She saw pictures of him at various stages of his life lining the walls, some of them even had a few of the Grave Diggers in them. Margo realized that, despite her not approving of Gunner’s choices, Martha loved her son without conditions making her a little sad. She wondered what that was like, having a mother to support you no matter who you were, without any conditions on that love. How different would that have made Margo’s life?

As a warm hand slipped into hers and hard fingers curled around them, she realized it didn’t matter. Everything that had happened in her life had led her here to this house and this man, and that was what mattered. As Martha bustled into the kitchen, Gunner moved closer his arm curling around her waist. Their hands were still linked and he brought them up kissing her fingers as he smiled at her.

“Told you it would be okay, babe. You didn’t have to worry. She’s just glad I have a female in my life. She’s only grateful you’re not a classless hooker who is hooked on crack,” Gunner chuckled a little at his own joke earning a punch in the arm for his rudeness. The day flew by and before she knew it, she was sitting on the couch laughing at pictures his mother was showing her while Gunner grumbled and glared. Although, she could tell he wasn’t really upset that his mother was showing her all his embarrassing childhood adventures. Margo loved every second of this day and she was almost sure everything was going to be okay right up until Martha closed the photo album. Her smile was bright and kind as she spoke not realizing that what she said was going to rip the rug right out from under Margo stealing her happiness in seconds.

“When are you two going to start having children of your own? Gunner explained that you’re already married basically, so will I be seeing grandbabies soon?” Martha asked.

A cold sense of longing for something that would never be, filled Margo to the brim, as she realized she’d never told Gunner about her inability to have children. Margo felt her world shatter when she heard Gunner’s reply.

“Not anytime soon, Mom. We just got together and need time to be a couple before we worry about having any kids.”

Margo felt cold and her hands shook as she tucked them under her legs, a strained smile on her face that no one noticed as she realized she was going to have to let Gunner go. He was the type of man who’d want a family and kids of his own. Looking around this house, she knew he’d want to be a father and she—well, she could never offer him that chance. Tears began stinging her eyes and she needed to escape.

“I need to go use the bathroom,” Margo said, her voice steadier than she would have expected.

“Of course, dear go ahead,” Martha murmured, her back to Margo as she pushed the photo album back onto its’ shelf.

“We need to get home too, it’s getting late and I know you have church in the morning, Mom. We will come back soon, or maybe you can come to our place,” Gunner offered, as Margo stood and almost ran to the bathroom. Margo felt tears slipping down her cheeks as she stepped into the small room. Her world was imploding as she realized that she was never going to be back here in this house again and Gunner wasn’t going to be hers, she had to let him go. He was a good man who didn’t deserve a broken woman who couldn’t give him what he deserved. As she looked at her tear-stained face in the mirror she wondered how she’d manage to live without him now.

Gunner heard his mother talking about kids and realized he’d never talked to Margo about his vasectomy. Shit, well that was a conversation he wasn’t looking forward to. Telling her that he never wanted kids was going to be hard. He really hoped she wasn’t planning on having any because he didn’t want them. Gunner knew that even if she wanted him to have his vasectomy reversed, he wouldn’t do it. He didn’t want to expose children to life with the club. There were dozens of reasons that he didn’t want to have kids. He’d seen too many little ones hurt by things that happened on a day-to-day basis. He didn’t want Margo to end up a single mother, even if the club would help her. He didn’t want that life for her, nor did he want a child caught in the crossfire of a shoot-out between them and a rival club. He’d seen that happen with Rock’s son and the devastation it had left in its wake. He didn’t want any of that for his kid, which is exactly why he’d chosen to have vasectomy done in the first place.

He cared for Margo and he wanted her to be happy, but he didn’t want kids. His life was too difficult and he already stressed about Margo’s safety all the time and she was old enough to hold a gun—which was something else he was going to have to discuss with her. He wanted her trained to use one for when he wasn’t with her, but that wasn’t the issue he was having right now.

“Not anytime soon, Mom. We just got together and need time to be a couple before we worry about having any kids,” he evaded, derailing that conversation before Margo got it into her head that was where they were headed.

Margo asked where the bathroom was and excused herself, while he continued to allow his thoughts to circle round and round. Adoption might happen one day, but he didn’t want kids of his own. A kid who was already here and needed a family he might one day be willing to do, but he wasn’t bringing a life into the world, only to watch it be broken by the world he lived in. Having Margo to worry about was more than enough.

He wondered what was taking Margo so long in the bathroom, because he wanted to get out of here. Not that he didn’t love his mother, but she wasn’t one to let things go. He was going to have to tell her he wasn’t ever having kids unless he adopted one years from now, but not anytime soon. He was happy with just him, Margo, and his brothers. His brothers would have kids and he and Margo could be Uncle Gunner and Aunt Margo, who would spoil them and send them home to mom and dad. Yep, that would work for him. He just hoped it would work for Margo too.

Gunner was beginning to wonder what was taking Margo so damned long in the bathroom after fifteen more minutes had passed. He helped his mom put away the dishes while he waited, glad when Margo finally exited the bathroom. He made their excuses to his mom, and twenty minutes later they were on his bike headed home.

He was glad when they arrived at their apartment a little while later and wondered if they should have this conversation tonight or if he should wait till morning. He entered the apartment behind Margo, realizing she had barely spoken after returning from the bathroom and now that he thought about it, she’d been rather pale and listless too. A worried frown pulled at the corners of his mouth as he moved into the living room behind her. She turned to face him, her hands clenched at her sides and she looked upset. Gunner was about to scoop her into his arms and demand to know what was wrong, when she spoke.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said flatly as she took off his patch. She held it out to him and Gunner stared at it in confusion. What the hell was she talking about?

“Can’t do what anymore?” he asked, still a little confused as to why she was holding out his patch like he should take it back.

“I can’t be with you anymore. It’s just not working for me,” Margo said. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What the fuck had happened in the last hour to make her say stupid shit like that? He racked his brain for a reason and drew a blank.

“Margo, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking, Gunner. I don’t want to do this anymore,” Margo stated, as she shoved her patch at his chest. Gunner caught the patch and stared at her in amazement.

What the fuck was going on here?

He couldn’t figure out what had happened. He knew this had to be some insecurity that her mother had instilled in her, but he wouldn’t allow her to poison their relationship over and over like this. She’d already pushed him away once and he wouldn’t allow her to keep doing it. He wanted to keep her, but living on a roller coaster wasn’t something he was willing to do.

“Don’t do this, Margo. Whatever it is we can talk it out. Just tell me what’s wrong, babe. It’s something we can work out,” he pleaded trying to get her to tell him what insecurity was forcing her to act this way.

“That’s just it, we can’t get over this one, Gunner. It’s just not possible and you deserve not to be stuck with me. It’s just not going to work between us,” Margo said, tears streaming down her face.

“So, that’s it then? You don’t care enough to even try?” he asked, hoping she’d at least try.

“No, it would be pointless,” Margo whispered.

Gunner didn’t want to hear what she was saying but he didn’t have a choice. He wouldn’t live his life always waiting for the other shoe to drop and he knew if she didn’t choose him and stick to that choice, then they couldn’t ever make this relationship work. The knowledge didn’t help the anger that coiled inside him as he snarled and kicked the coffee table over watching her jump and step back with fear clouding her face. He wanted to put his fist through the wall, but he held onto his temper just barely as he stepped back clenching the patch in his hand.

“Fuck it, Bunny will come pick up my shit tomorrow. If you aren’t willing to even attempt to work this out, it’s fucking worthless anyway. Have a nice fucking life, Margo.” Gunner turned and slammed out the door without waiting for her to reply, ignoring the pained moan from her as he walked away.

He took the stairs two at a time, too angry to wait for the elevator. When he hit the parking lot, he stormed to his bike jerking the saddle bag open and he shoved her patch into it, unsure why he was even bothering. They were done, she’d thrown them away without a fight. Damn, it hurt like a bitch that she cared so little for him that she could do this to them. He kicked his bike into gear hearing the growl of his engine. It always soothed him in the past but he had a feeling today the road wasn’t going to help with the massive hole that was currently a jagged part of his soul.

How did they go from blissfully happy, to broken beyond repair in less than five minutes? He didn’t know, but as he roared out of the parking lot to the sound of squealing tires and smoke from his wheels, he didn’t fucking care, he just needed to be as far away from here as possible.

Chapter Eighteen

Gunner was tired of thinking about Margo and cleaning, which typically was enough to make him chill and forget any bullshit going on in his life, but it wasn’t helping. He’d cleaned the clubhouse from top to bottom and he could definitely say that these fuckers and their mess should be able to keep his mind off his shitty situation. He’d found more than a bucket full of used condoms and cigarette butts, not to mention the bottles from all the booze they went through. Not that it had helped him forget anything about Margo leaving him without any warning.

He just wanted to forget. To leave his worries behind him and forget that she wasn’t with him anymore for just a minute. He looked down at the drugs Tattered had stashed in one of the nightstands in his room. He likely shouldn’t have been cleaning his brother’s nightstand drawers, but when his OCD was kicking—well, it was kicking. He’d found the foil wrapped hit under a bunch of condoms and some gum of all things. Gunner stared at it long and hard, his mind running a mile a minute. He hated thinking about Margo and yet he couldn’t stop, he just wanted it to stop. The acid called to him, seducing him to take it and forget for a minute the pain in his soul because the woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with had pushed him away again. He had let her walk away, but only because he couldn’t allow her to keep doing this to him again and again.

She’d already pushed him away once, but at least that time she’d had a reason that made sense to him, but this time he had no idea what had happened. One minute they’d been together and everything had been fine and the next she was breaking up with him. He glanced down at the acid sitting on his dresser. His eyes unfocused as he stared down at it, his stomach was twisting in knots like snakes inside him. He reached out, done with thinking for a while and was unable to resist the siren’s call of the drug’s ability to make him forget.

Gunner dropped the hit and sat back leaning into the pillows waiting for the effects to start. He forgot in his rush to forget about Margo, that acid was the last drug he needed to do when his head wasn’t on straight. He was suddenly thrust into a dark hallway that tugged at his memory. A cold sweat broke out over his skin as he stared towards the door at the end of the hall, thoughts scrambling to figure out where he was and why this dark hallway looked so damned familiar.

Snakes were slithering over the ground at his feet making him kick out trying to get rid of them as he headed towards the door. Hesitation wasn’t something he was known for, but something about this hallway and that door scared him. He didn’t know what to do as he stood a few feet from the door, unease burning in his guts. He stared at the crack in the door seeing the light pouring into the hall. Feelings of dread kept his feet in place. He turned away from the door, not wanting to walk through it. He watched as the floor fell away and left him with only one way to go.

Gunner stared at the door reaching out to pull it open. He heard the creak of the hinges as it swung inward and the bright light blinded him for a moment. That was when he knew where he was and why all of this looked so familiar to him. It was the bathroom of Choke’s sister, Cheri. Even before his vision cleared he knew what day it was and what he’d see when his sight returned. Gunner wanted to block out the memories that were flooding his brain as he blinked trying to bring the room into focus.

He could still remember the call from Choke asking him to go over and check on her after they’d fought about her moving in with her loser boyfriend. Choke didn’t like the guy at all and had threatened him more than once about getting his sister into drugs. Turned out there was a good reason to hate that little fucker. Gunner had arrived to find her door unlocked and opened a little. He’d gone inside her apartment concerned that something was wrong, it had been wrong alright. He’d heard water running in the bathroom and headed down the hall calling out to her but he’d gotten no response. As he neared the door he’d knocked on it, but again she hadn’t responded. He could remember feeling really worried as he stood in that hall and pushed the door open. He would never forget the sound of the creak as it swung open—just like the sound he’d just heard.

Gunner had stepped inside to find the sink running and Cheri’s crumpled form on the floor. He’d dropped to his knees feeling his heart pound inside his chest as he slowly shook her hoping for a response. He’d noticed the needle before he’d seen the tourniquet on her arm. He’d known before he’d even turned her over what must have happened. His hands were gentle as they tugged at her shoulder. Cheri was eighteen—just a fucking kid—and she’d always been protected by her big brother and his club. She’d lived with Choke in a small house built on the ten-acre lot the clubhouse was built on until she’d turned eighteen. She’d wanted to strike out on her own and insisted she was old enough to live on her own. Against his better judgment Choke had gotten her an apartment a block from the clubhouse.

That was when she’d met her boyfriend. Choke had one of the prospects follow him for a week. He hadn’t liked the things the prospect had told him and he’d threatened the fucker to keep the drugs away from his sister. She’d been in that apartment for a little over a week before Gunner found her on the bathroom floor. He’d slowly rolled her over onto her back praying he was wrong.

He hadn’t been. Gunner remembered the sightless eyes with tiny pupils staring up at the ceiling all glassy and lifeless. Her lips had been blue and her skin had looked grey. It was obvious she’d been dead for hours and from the way the door had been left open he’d known who was responsible. When he’d called Choke, he’d thought the man was going to explode. They’d gone after the little asshole who’d killed his sister by giving her heroin and they’d beat him till he’d spilled the whole story. Then they’d put a bullet between his eyes for leaving her like that. The memory of that night had stuck with him and occasionally, he’d dream about it.

He couldn’t see that look again, he just couldn’t do it. He tried to walk out of the room but suddenly he was kneeling despite not intending to. She was lying there on her side just like before. He noticed something different when he looked down at her this time. His heart almost stopped beating when he saw blonde hair instead of the thick black locks he expected. Gunner couldn’t breathe when he noted the blue streaks in her hair and his hands shook as he reached slowly to her shoulder to pull her onto her back. When he did the world stopped and all he felt was agony splintering through him as he stared down into the face of the woman lying on the floor.

Sightless eyes staring at the ceiling and lips tinged blue were all he saw before he lost it. Tears poured down his cheeks and he couldn’t stop shaking as he bent forward. His chest was tight and his heart didn’t want to beat right as it roared in his ears.

“No, no, no, no,” he choked out, as he reached out, taking Margo into his arms pulling her lifeless body to his chest and rocking back and forth as he roared ‘no’ repeatedly. It might have been minutes or possibly hours that he sat there. That’s when he felt the hands pulling at him jerking him away from Margo. He fought trying to get back to her, but he was dragged further away by those hands that ripped at him. He saw demons coming through the door grabbing at Margo tearing her to pieces as he fought to get to her. Gunner couldn’t get to her no matter how hard he fought.

“Fuck! Would you snap out of it, asshole?” he heard a familiar voice. He didn’t recognize it in his hazy need to get to Margo before they tore her body to shreds.

“What the fuck is he trippin’ on?” Another man’s voice asked. Gunner knew that he should know who was talking but didn’t.

“Acid, it’s got to be, nothing else makes you act like this. It’s a bad trip, poor bastard,” Dice said. Gunner knew his voice and wasn’t surprised to realize that he was slowly beginning to watch the bathroom he’d been in with Margo fading.

“What should we do?”

“Nothing you can do, man. He has to snap out of it on his own. If we try to pull him out he could dig in deeper,” Dice muttered.

“Well, we can’t just let him thrash about screaming. He’s already hoarse from all his yelling,” Joker muttered.

Gunner wasn’t fully aware of his surroundings yet, but he was damned sure about one thing. Seeing Margo like that had torn out a piece of his soul. He couldn’t stand the thought of her like that and he felt a shiver of fear roll over him. As he finally escaped the hell he’d been in, he found himself on the floor in his room with Joker on top of him and Buck holding his arms while Dice stood in the doorway watching them. As reality settled into him slowly, he realized he’d been tripping hard and what he’d seen with Margo and the demons wasn’t real. Only it had felt real and his chest still ached with the need to know for sure if it was real. He had a sudden need to hear Margo’s voice. He just needed to know she was alright, that she was whole and unharmed. Seeing her like that wasn’t something he could handle.

“Get off me,” he demanded, trying to sit up.

Joker took his time, moving slowly as if he were ready to jump back on him if he made a single wrong move. Gunner shoved him back hard into the bed hearing the little grunt as he landed against it. He noticed Joker’s phone hanging from his pocket and reached out trying to grab it. Joker yelped, trying to avoid him.

“What the hell, man? Stop. What are you doing?” Joker demanded, as he tried like hell to hold onto his cell phone. Joker managed to get it away from Gunner’s hand and he’d had enough. He needed to hear her voice right this very second or he was going to go insane. He grabbed his spare gun from under his mattress pressing it to Joker’s temple. Everyone in the room froze as he sat there with his finger on the trigger and his entire soul demanding to talk to Margo right now to assure himself she was alright.

“Give me your phone,” Gunner commanded, done with the fighting and the games.

“Fuck! Everyone just calm the hell down, nobody needs to get hurt. Just give him the phone, Joker,” Buck ordered. Joker complied, as Gunner took the phone and dialed, holding his breath as it rang. He counted the rings as he waited impatiently for her to answer.

“Hello?” Margo’s sweet voice sent spikes of hot relief flooding through him as he gripped the phone tightly. Margo said hello a few more times, each one reassuring him that she was alright. It was like a balm to his soul that she was okay. He didn’t respond to her because he couldn’t think of what he’d say.

He didn’t think she’d appreciate him saying something like ‘Hey, had a bad trip on some acid and thought you were dead. Glad you’re okay’ before he hung up on her. Fuck, that would not be a good idea. When she hung up, he closed his eyes trying to hold onto those hellos because they soothed him. Gunner let Joker’s phone fall from his hand as he laid his weapon down and fell back onto the floor. He just wanted to sleep and forget that lifeless look on dream Margo’s face. He never wanted to see anything like that again. Damn, he couldn’t think, it was so fucking messed up.

“Fuck man, don’t break my damned phone because you’re on some massive trip and have lost your mind,” Joker bitched, earning a glare from Gunner’s one eye, because it took too much effort to open both and his energy had escaped him.

“Shut up, Joker or you might end up with another gun to your temple,” Buck growled, smacking Joker in the back of the head earning a yelp of pain. “You good, man?” Buck questioned moving to grab Gunner’s spare Glock off the floor.

“I’m good, but leave my damned gun on the nightstand, asshole. No taking it. It’s not even loaded,” he grunted before he used the side of the bed to push up and stand before collapsing on top of the bed instead of the floor.

“Thank, fuck. I thought you’d lost your shit for real, man. You pressed that gun against Joker’s head like it didn’t matter and even if he is annoying as fuck, we would like to keep him around,” Buck said shaking his head.

“I’m not annoying, asshole,” Joker growled, earning another box to the ears.

“How many times a day do you talk about chicks you want to fuck?” he asked, waiting on Joker to defend himself again.

“It’s not that bad, I just like pussy. Why is that so wrong?” Joker asked looking confused.

“It’s not wrong to want pussy dumbass, but it is annoying as fuck when you can’t stop talking about it,” Dice muttered from the doorway. “Look, he seems alright for now, but we should let him sleep it off. Bad trips aren’t fun and he seems like he might have some lingering sensations that are still fucking with his head. He’s likely been up for ten hours or more, tripping. He needs to rest and get his head on straight. If I’d known he was planning on dropping a hit I would have reminded him not to do it when he was fucked up mentally.” 

“Yeah, that warning would have been nice last night, asshole.” Gunner growled, peeking at Dice from under his arm which he’d thrown over his eyes while he’d been wishing them away as they’d argued.

“Not my fault you’re an idiot,” Dice grunted shooting him the bird.

“Just get out, I’m fine,” Gunner lied, because after seeing Margo lying on the floor with sightless eyes and grey skin he wasn’t going to be okay for a long damned time.

“Alright, let’s clear out now that he’s calm and ready for sleep,” Buck muttered as he helped Joker up off the floor. The three men left his room shutting the door behind them. Gunner lay there staring at the ceiling wondering if he’d ever be able to forget what he’d just went through. He wouldn’t be dropping acid anytime soon—if ever—that was for damned sure.

Chapter Nineteen

Margo leaned back in the pillows feeling as miserable as she had all week. She still wasn’t over her break up with Gunner. Even thinking about him sent an ache through her that burned like fire inside her heart. She wondered what Gunner was doing. Was he as miserable as she was? Or had he moved on? Margo knew he hadn’t moved on because despite her pushing him away and him getting mad that night, he loved her. She knew it in her very soul. It had been in his eyes every time he’d looked at her. It was why she’d known she had to push him away.

“Come on, Margo. When are you going to tell me what happened with Gunner? You were on cloud nine and the next thing I know you're showing up here in tears looking broken and you haven’t been out of bed since. Did he do something?” Zoey asked, watching her from the doorway where she stood with a cup of coffee in her hand, her long brown hair braided, and still wearing her pajamas. Zoey was a transcriptionist and she worked from home.

“No, he didn’t do anything,” Margo muttered, rolling over to face the wall away from her.

“Margo, just tell me what happened.”

“He wants kids, okay?” Margo spat out, her heart hurting and more tears stinging her eyes as she buried her face into the pillow.

“Oh damn, Margo—wait you told him you couldn’t have kids and his reaction was? Was he an asshole? Is that what happened to send you here in tears?” Zoey asked as she came around the bed to kneel beside her, rubbing her back in sympathy.

“I didn’t tell him. I just couldn’t—,” Margo started, but Zoey interrupted her.

“Wait, you didn’t tell him? I’m confused. Did he tell you he wanted kids and you just broke up with him without telling him why, is that what happened?” Zoey had stopped rubbing her back and Margo peeked at her. Zoey was frowning darkly.

“He was talking to his mother about not having kids right now. He said we weren’t going to have them for a while, so it would be just us till we were ready to have kids. It was obvious he wanted them and I didn’t want to take that fro—,” Margo stopped when Zoey sliced her hand through the air, her voice harsh as she spoke.

“Stop talking. You’re telling me that you didn’t even talk about whether he was just placating his mother, or if he really wanted kids, and you broke up with him? Have you lost your damned mind, Margo? What the hell?” Zoey demanded, her anger evident in the glare she sent Margo’s way. Margo sat up, her own anger sparking.

“What was I supposed to do, Zoey? Let him tell me he wanted five kids and then watch his disgust and anger when I told him I couldn’t ever give him that? I couldn’t do it!” she screamed, unable to contain her rage at the painful thought of seeing a disappointed look on Gunner’s face, if she would have told him.

“Oh, my God, Margo do you hear yourself? How can you sit here and think you are the only one hurt by this? Margo, this is your insecurities talking. He might not even want kids! Do you know how many times I’ve told my mother something just to shut her up? How many times have you done the same with your mother? You didn’t even have the conversation because you were too afraid? That’s just stupid, get your head out of your ass!”

Margo stared at her formerly sympathetic best friend with a frown as she really thought about what Zoey had just said. Was it her insecurities that had pushed her to break up with Gunner? She’d thought she was doing the right thing, but as Zoey’s words sank in, she wasn’t so sure she had. She hadn’t given him a chance to tell her if he wanted kids and she had just assumed that he would react badly to finding out she couldn’t have them. Gunner loved her, she knew that in her very soul, but was her fear of losing that love what had pushed her to pull away from him? Because she suddenly realized that’s why she’d feared telling him that she couldn’t ever have kids because of the miscarriage.

“Oh hell, I really fucked up, didn’t I?” Margo suddenly said looking at Zoey.

“Pretty much, sister. If shit went down the way you described, then yeah, I’d say you royally fucked up. Now get your ass up and go fix this shit,” Zoey said, as she grabbed her coffee that she’d set on the nightstand. Heading towards the door, she turned back to look at Margo and paused just before leaving the room, “I’d shower before you go over there to beg for forgiveness though, because you stink.” Zoey was standing just outside the door when she poked her head back in and added. “And try not to be an idiot.”

Margo tossed her pillow at her bestie, rolling her eyes when it hit the wall and harmlessly fell to the floor. She headed into the bathroom hoping like hell her man would forgive her for being an idiot and that he wouldn’t crush her heart when she shared her pain with him.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be such an asshole if you weren’t such a mother fucking idiot,” Gunner spat at Joker trying not to wring the little shit’s neck.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Joker asked, “You’ve been acting like a dick ever since that chick left you, we’re all tired of dealing with it.” Gunner didn’t bother to respond, he just waved a hand at the fucking moron unable to deal with the stupid fucker and his constant need for pussy anymore tonight.

“Why don’t you go fuck something so you’ll leave me the hell alone, dill hole,” Gunner grunted, shoving Joker away from him as he reached around him to grab the vodka off the end table where he’d set it.

“What is wrong with you?” Dice asked. “You’ve been drunk more than you’ve been sober, not to mention that trip to hell you had a few days ago,” Dice said with a slight frown on his face as he watched him.

Fuck, why wouldn’t these fuckers let him drown his pain in a bottle and move the fuck on? It was none of their business what he was dealing with. They didn’t need to know he was drowning his sorrows over a woman he couldn’t have because she was too damned proud to love him. He understood why Margo couldn’t allow herself to be truly happy.

Her mother.

She was the one who told Margo all her life she wasn’t good enough, that if she’d just change and be someone else she’d love her. It was bullshit, you either loved your kid or you didn’t. Helen Dexter was just a bitch who couldn’t see the value of the person her daughter was and she’d somehow convinced Margo that she was unlovable. That was why she’d pushed him away every time he got too close. It was why Margo told him to get out and it was the reason he wouldn’t chase her.

He’d meant what he said to her that night. He wasn’t going to keep begging to be a part of her life. Either she loved him or she didn’t. It was that simple, he knew that in his bones. It still sucked, and since he’d walked out on her over a week ago, she hadn’t even bothered to try and fix their relationship. It left him pissed and a little broken inside, because she obviously didn’t need him like he needed her. That was why he was downing vodka like it was nectar from the gods, so he could forget the pain of her not being a part of his life anymore.

“It’s that chick,” Topper said shaking his head. “Dude, no woman’s worth this.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Damn, if she messed with your head that bad, fuck that bitch—,” Joker’s words were cut off by Gunner's fist planting in his face. Joker slammed back into the wall with a loud bang that echoed through the room.

“Don’t you dare fucking talk about her that way,” Gunner roared.

His hands were still fisted as he stared down at his brother who’d landed on the floor. Joker’s lip was bleeding and he was wiggling his jaw likely trying to put it back in place because he’d knocked the fuck out of the little bastard. Nobody talked about Margo that way. It just wasn’t going to happen, even if he never saw her again because he loved her. Fuck, he should have figured that out when he’d handed her his patch, but somehow this was the moment he realized that the reason he was spiraling out of control was because he loved her. He turned, slamming his fist into the wall repeatedly, resisting the urge to stop when pain blasted through his arm from the impact. He just needed to beat the fuck out of something right then because he couldn’t stand the thought of never touching Margo again.

“Fuck dude, chill. Joker didn’t mean it. He was just trying to make you feel better about your break-up. Topper’s right. No woman is worth you losing yourself. What happened anyway? When you were at the bonfire about a month and a half ago the two of you seemed fine,” Buck snarled as he and Topper jerked him away from the wall he’d been pulverizing and slammed him down on the couch. Literally, holding him there when he attempted to get up and pound the wall again. They grappled until Buck finally sat on him holding him down. Gunner couldn’t help the grunt that escaped him as the heavy bastard glared at him over his shoulder.

“Get off me, fucker!”

“I will when you calm the fuck down. You need to stop this ‘I’ve gone bat-shit-crazy bit’ or I’m getting on Joker’s boat because if Margo has you this fucked up, I’m not sorry to see her go,” Buck threatened, making his hand itch to wrap around the man’s neck. Not that he was likely to win that battle but he’d certainly fucking try.

“It’s fine, just get off me, I’m good.” He clipped the words out still wanting to fight but he could wait until he was in the gym with a bag.

“You’re nowhere near good, brother, but if you can control your anger I’ll let you up.”

“I said I can, now move fucker.”

Gunner let out a relieved rumble when Buck’s heavy ass stood up letting him breathe for the first time in five minutes. Buck didn’t move away right away he watched him for a moment likely expecting him to hop up and start pounding the wall again, but when he didn’t Buck sat back down in the chair across from him scrutinizing him carefully. Gunner glared back, his hands clenched on the arm of the couch beside him.

“I thought you had all this bullshit worked out with her after you told her about being in the club months ago,” Buck muttered, looking thoughtful.

“That was worked out. I don’t know what the fuck happened okay! One minute we were at my mom’s eating dinner and happy—and the next she was like, it’s over. Somehow, I fucked up but she wouldn’t tell me what the fuck I did. I asked but she wouldn’t tell me and I refuse to grovel. There, you happy? I have no damned clue why she’d just throw our relationship away like she did. I just don’t get it.” Gunner couldn’t help the tortured sound of the words escaping his mouth as he revealed the truth of why it hurt so damned bad to lose her like this. He didn’t even have a reason just a suspicion that it was somehow related to her mother’s bitchy nature.

“Sounds like she is just wishy-washy to me.” Joker boldly stated, jumping behind Topper when Gunner snarled. That little fucker needed to keep his mouth shut or he was going to end up murdering him.

“Stop, it’s not his fault that what he said is true. If she didn’t give you a reason, then what the hell are you so worked up about? Just go over there and sit in her house till she does. Fuck, you’re a damned biker, act like it. If I had a woman, I would just ignore whatever she said that didn’t make sense. It’s the only way to win sometimes.”

Gunner didn’t know why that really stupid idea sounded good to him. Oh wait, he did because he loved her. No, he wouldn’t muscle his way into her life. She needed to want him as much as he wanted her, or this couldn’t work between them. He knew that relationships had to be built on a solid foundation to work long term. He gazed down at his bloody knuckles wondering idly if they were all busted or if just one of them was. Choke came lumbering into the room his hand wrapped around a beer bottle.

“Hey, your old lady’s outside asking for you, she looks a little raggedy too, kinda like you do.” Choke causally threw out and Gunner shook his head trying to clear it. It couldn’t be his old lady Choke was talking about, could it? But none of these other fuckers had old ladies, so it must be.

“Margo’s here?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Yep,” Choke said sitting down on the couch. “Want me to get rid of her?”

“No,” Gunner practically roared jumping to his feet as he rushed towards the door.

“Dude, you should shower, you smell like a wino who’s been outside for weeks. Nobody wants to smell that man,” Joker yelled after him and if he wasn’t so frightened that Margo would leave before he got a chance to talk to her he would have gone back in there and beat the hell out of him.

Margo waited, wringing her hands as she stood on the porch with Bunny, who’d agreed to wait with her while the club’s president, Choke headed inside to get Gunner. She hoped he wouldn’t refuse to see her because she was a dumbass. What would she do if he did?

“You haven’t been staying at your home lately, have you?” Bunny suddenly asked.

“Um, no I haven’t, but how did you know that?” Margo asked, feeling like she was going to crawl out of her skin any second.

“You haven’t been there when I bring your food. There’s like ten meals in your fridge and I was concerned you might not be eating.” Bunny’s words surprised her because she hadn’t expected him to keep doing that.

“I —does Gunner—,” Margo started but Bunny interrupted.

“Yeah, he knew. You should realize that for men like us, once you’re a part of the club you’re always a part of it. Even if things don’t work out, you will always be ours. It’s the way our world works. If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask and we will help you, Margo. Especially Gunner.” Margo stared at him in shock because that sort of offer was amazing to her after the treatment she’d gotten from her own mother all her life.

“Thank you,” Margo whispered as they both turned towards the door where Gunner stood looking at her, his eyes dark and his gaze traveling over her from her head to her toes, as if drinking her in. She stared back just as captivated by him. She noted his bloodshot eyes and his unkempt appearance with worry. She’d done this to him and she didn’t even know if she’d done it for him like she’d thought or because she was afraid.

“Nothing to thank me for,” Bunny said quietly as he walked into the clubhouse leaving her and Gunner staring at each other.

“Can we talk?” Margo asked softly, hoping he wouldn’t reject her, not that she wouldn’t deserve that after pushing him away.

“Yeah,” Gunner said, stepping out on the porch indicating that she should proceed him to a rocking bench.

Margo sat down, even as her fears tried to get the best of her, demanding that she run away. She stared out at the fence surrounding their property. She wasn’t sure what to say or how to start talking about this. She was gripping the bench hard when she felt his hand tug at hers. She allowed him to pry her hand off the bench and he wrapped his around hers offering comfort. Margo glanced down seeing that his knuckles were broken and bloody.

“What happened?” she asked concerned.

“Punched a wall, it’s fine.”

“Another thing that’s my fault I suppose,” Margo said ruefully.

“No, it’s mine. What do we need to talk about, babe?” he asked, his thumb rubbing across her hand. “It’s okay. I don’t bite.”

Margo couldn’t help the little laugh that bubbled up inside her then. “Yeah, that’s so not true. You bite me all the time.” He didn’t really bite her so much as tease her with his teeth or roll her clit and nipple between them gently. Those thoughts made her body soften and her breath catch a little.

“True,” he said grinning wickedly.

“I don’t know how to say what I need to say. It’s hard for me Gunner, really hard.” Margo felt her heart clench and she wanted to be brave but she didn’t know how.

“It’s okay, babe. We can just sit here.” He began rocking the bench back and forth with them sitting there holding hands and staring out into the night. Margo couldn’t believe he wasn’t angry or being mean to her, but here he was sitting here just waiting for her like he had a lifetime to wait to hear what she needed to say. That, more than anything, gave her the courage to speak.

“When I was seventeen, I left home to go to college. You know how my mother is with me. Very judgmental and hateful really,” Margo said pausing. She took a deep breath. “I decided before I left, that I would never be who she wanted, even if I followed all her rules. So, I wanted to explore what the world was about. I wanted to know what I’d missed following her rules and who I was without all her criticism.”

“That’s reasonable,” he said when she didn’t say anything more while they rocked for several minutes.

“It was, I’d been on a mission of discovery for two years when I met Ben and he seemed like the perfect guy. He was funny and he treated me like a queen at first.” Margo felt Gunner’s hand tighten on hers. It was the only response he made to her words and she knew he was likely waiting on a tragic story about some guy who’d broken her heart, but that wasn’t where this was going. “I was nineteen when I found out I was pregnant,” Margo stated flatly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You have a child?” Gunner asked, a little confused.

“No,” Margo said, her voice cracking. “I lost it.”

“Damn, babe. I’m so sorry.”

“That was the worst night of my life and it took something from me that I can’t ever get back. Something that makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you, Gunner.” Margo rushed to get it out, trying hard not to cry while she blinked and struggled to finish explaining.

“Babe, nothing you lost could ever make you not good enough for me. I’m the one who will never be good enough for you, but if you’re willing to be with me then I am not going to be an idiot and let you go.” Gunner had pulled her against his side, his arm going around her when she’d told him about losing her baby and he still held her, but he didn’t know everything yet, not the most important thing she had yet to tell him. She let him hold her for a long while before she spoke again. Her soul felt like shattered glass as she said the words she’d never wanted to say to anyone ever again.

“I can’t have children,” She stated tersely without any fanfare or sugar coating, waiting for him to say something, anything, about her revelation. She wasn’t expecting him to start laughing or that he would be laughing so hard he shook the rocker.

“What’s funny about that?” she demanded, pushing away from him seeing that he was laughing so hard that tears were in his eyes making anger roar up inside her. This was his response to something so devastating for her? Laughter.

“I-I’m sorry, but it’s perfect. Yo—you’re perfect, Margo.” Gunner said between laughs and Margo thought he might have lost it because this was not the expected response from him. Obviously, he didn’t understand that she was serious and that she really couldn’t have kids. She couldn’t offer him that and he deserved it. She stared at him as he laughed some more before he finally said, “I don’t want kids, even had a vasectomy years ago. I was dreading telling you that because I was afraid you’d want me to reverse it and I wouldn’t have done it because I don’t want kids, at least not my own kids. Adoption of a kid that needs a family maybe, but not kids I brought into this world. My life is too unstable and dangerous for them. Hell, it’s really too dangerous and unstable for you, but I’m selfish and I’m keeping you,” Gunner finally clarified, shocking her.

“You don’t want kids,” Margo repeated, letting that sink in because Zoey’s words were ringing in her ears. She’d said something to the effect of, she didn’t even know if he wanted kids and she’d been right. Damn, she was an idiot. She’d broken up with him thinking he wouldn’t want her if she couldn’t have children, and he didn’t even want them at all.

“Nope, I don’t. Maybe after five or six years, we might take in a child who needs us, but I haven’t ever wanted to have my own and still don’t. We are a pair, aren’t we?” Gunner asked shaking his head. “If I’d just told you that before you wouldn’t have run and this wouldn’t have happened at all.”

“I can’t believe you’re laughing about this still. You know it tore me to shreds when it happened and just now telling you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” Margo complained, even though she could see the humor in the situation.

“Shit,” Gunner said sobering. “You’re right, that’s not funny at all and I hate that you had to go through that, Margo. I hate it but it does work out in a way. Not being able to bring kids into the world doesn’t make you any less than you were before you lost that ability. You were always perfect just the way you are, Margo. Your mother is just unhappy and she can’t stand that you don’t care what she thinks.”

“I know that in my heart, but sometimes she just gets in my head and messes me up you know,” Margo said feeling like a moron but being in Gunner’s arms helped.   

“I get that but you’re perfect and I love you, Margo.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, feeling his love surrounding her with joy and acceptance.

“Are we good now? No other lingering secrets that can tear us apart, because I have to say this being apart shit sucks,” Gunner muttered into her hair his arms tightly wrapped around her as she pressed her face into his chest.

“Well, there is just one.” She said, feeling him stiffen as she smiled into his shirt.

“What’s that?” he asked, as she pulled back from him and grinned.

“You smell awful and need to change your clothes.”

She couldn’t help the happiness that filled her heart as she watched him throw his head back and laugh as he chucked her under the chin with his fist gently.

“I’ve heard that before, but if I’m showering your coming with me, babe.” He stood and lifted her, tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry as he walked into the club house with her hanging upside down in his arms screeching in protest.

“I see you finally got smart and just decided to ignore her complaints,” Buck called out to them as Gunner carried her towards his room.

“Yep,” he said swatting her ass and continued up the stairs and into his bathroom.

Chapter Twenty

Gunner glared at the cabinet and sneered as he tossed away another piece of sandpaper he’d ripped to shreds. He glanced out the window and growled again when he didn’t see Margo’s car yet. Grabbing another sheet from the package on the counter, he glared at the cabinets they were sanding in the two-story farmhouse he’d bought for him and Margo a few weeks ago. It was a bit of a fixer-upper, but she’d loved the house from the moment she’d laid eyes on it and he loved buying her things she wanted. The excited glee on her face as she’d jumped up and down while talking a hundred miles a minute about how they could fix this or that to make it a real home, had him pulling money from the bank before the end of the day. He could have bought her something bigger, or hell ready to live in, but she’d wanted this house.

“Geez, I thought you’d worked through all your shit, what’s gone wrong now?” Buck asked, using a sander to peel the paint off the doors. They’d taken them off so that it would be easier for them to sand. Gunner grunted as he went back to sanding the frames. They’d been painted by the last owners but Margo wanted them to be varnished since they were actually real wood. Buck and Topper were helping him sand them down to get them ready for the varnish.

“Nothing’s wrong.,” he grunted.

“Sure, and my dick’s not interested in pussy anymore. Come on man, even I know both those statements are bullshit. Cause my dick’s fine, now what the hell is going on with you?” Buck set the sander down and parked his ass on the counter watching him while he drank a beer he’d grabbed from the cooler since the refrigerator they’d ordered wasn’t in yet. He almost snorted at that because she’d spent hours in that appliance store looking for one. She’d looked at nearly a dozen of them claiming they weren’t right, before he’d finally demanded to know exactly what it was she wanted. He’d listened to her requirements, some shit about not losing the farmhouse motif before finally nodding and telling the clerk what to order. Gunner shook himself, bringing his thoughts back to the present as he twisted to look out the window again. He still didn’t see Margo’s car, making him scowl.

“Hey fucker, I asked you a question.” Buck demanded tossing some used sandpaper at his head, making him snarl and glower at him.

 “She’s at her mother’s, alright? That always fucks with her head and I hate that she goes over there.” Gunner wasn’t quiet about how much he hated it, either. Her only response to his complaints were always ‘she’s my mother, Gunner’. Like that mattered at all, because calling that bitch a mother was like calling a snake a fucking bird.

“Shit, why does she bother going? I thought her mother was a terror,” Topper said, coming back into the room.

“It’s her mom man, nothing you can do to prevent her from going over there. All you can do is be here for her when she gets home and remind her why she doesn’t need to worry about what that woman has to say. Eventually, she won’t even hear the insults her mother throws out. She’s strong and that’s going to make it okay,” Buck said while taking another swig of his beer.

“It doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Gunner muttered.

“Nope, you don’t, but if you and the club are always here to catch her she will be fine.”

“She’s mine, asshole,” Gunner growled, not liking the time Buck had been spending with his woman. Not that he thought Margo would ever cheat on him or that Buck would betray him that way, but he was jealous of her time too. He already had to share her with her mother and Zoey. He didn’t want to have to share her with the club too, of course that was inevitable. Half the time he came home to find Bunny’s ass parked on the couch. Margo liked the fucker so he couldn’t say anything and when it wasn’t Bunny, it was Buck for fuck's sake.

“I can’t wait till you find a woman to keep you in check,” Gunner grunted, glaring at the man as he stared out the window looking for Margo’s car again. Needing to hold her and tell her that she would always be the best thing in this world as far as he was concerned.

“Yeah, we discussed that I don’t do good girls remember? They give me hives,” Buck said with a little chuckle.

“I can’t wait till you find a good girl you can’t resist and watch her bring you to your knees,” he replied as he watched Margo’s car coming up the drive.

“Never going to happen,” Buck called out as he walked out to greet his woman.

Gunner didn’t give that statement much thought, he just banged out the door and moved down the stairs that led up to the little porch. Margo had claimed that it was perfect for late night snuggling. Not that he minded anything that got her into his arms, but his idea of snuggling involved her naked in their bed so he could make her come a dozen times before the snuggling happened.

“She wasn’t that bad today, so you can relax,” Margo said as she stood near her little Honda.

She was wearing a bright green top and his favorite jeans with her normal accessories. Gunner drank in the sight of her standing there, his heart twisting with worry. She looked okay, she was smiling and he would have to call her outfit progress. Two months ago, she never would have worn that shirt when she went to her mothers. It was a sleeveless top that didn’t quite meet the top of her jeans, showing off her belly button.

“That’s not really reassuring babe.” Gunner grunted, his eyes meeting hers.

“Well it should be. I think I’m getting better at handling her criticism. I didn’t even care when she told me I looked like a streetwalker again.” Gunner cursed under his breath and took a step towards her.

“If you stopped going over there, you wouldn’t have to deal with it at all. I just don’t—,” Gunner began, only to be stopped when she held up her hand to halt his words.

“Gunner I’m not going to cut off my mother. Despite her cruel nature, she does need me, even if it’s in an unhealthy way. She lost her child and I know how hard that is and mine wasn’t even here yet. I can’t imagine losing my child after twenty-two years.” Margo hugged herself looking at him pleadingly, silently beseeching him to drop it.

“I’ll drop it, but that viper doesn’t need to rip your confidence to shreds in order to grieve her daughter. I really hate you going over there,” Gunner complained.

“I am well aware that you hate it, Gunner. However, I’m not going to stop going over there, but you can help me by showing me how much you love me when I get home.” Margo sent him a seductive smile as she took a few steps towards him.

Gunner didn’t wait for another invitation he just he scooped a giggling Margo off her feet carrying her up to their room where he proceeded to show her all the places on her he thought were perfect. It took hours because every part of her was absolutely perfect as far as he was concerned. He knew he was damned lucky that he’d gone to that picnic and caught her hiding in the bushes a year ago. Life without Margo just wasn’t worth living.

Read more books by Michelle Woods at: www.michellewoodsofficialsite.com/

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More from Michele Woods

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Read onwards for a sample of OWNED

Chapter One

He leaned back against the bar glancing around at his club, taking in his band of brothers. They weren’t the pansy-assed boys thrown in over their heads like the ones he’d left in Iraq. Nope, these were hardened men.

Men like him.

When he’d walked away from the army after two tours, he hadn’t known what to do with himself. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that he wasn’t the same good ol’ boy Tyler Fenton that he’d been when he left home years ago. When he walked into the recruiting office in his small west Texas hometown to join the army, he’d never suspected that he wouldn’t return to pick up right where he’d left off, but what he’d seen had changed him. Going into the army at eighteen had twisted him in ways he never could have predicted.

That was how he’d ended up becoming ‘Buck’ Fenton. He thought of these men as his brothers because they were. Some were like him and couldn’t settle down after leaving the army and others had joined because their fathers had been a part of the club or because they were tired of bureaucratic bullshit.

Glancing over at Toot, he motioned for another beer. Fuck, that had been a long time ago. Almost twelve years now and not a damned thing had changed since then. He would be thirty-nine in four days. Fuck, maybe that was why he was sitting here remembering the day he left the army. The day he’d walked away from all the death he’d lived through for the six years he’d been there. Hell, at least he’d survived it, unlike the other ten men in his battalion. Well Roger had survived too but he was crippled, and not just physically either. Of course, Buck hadn’t really been mentally okay either and was likely just as fucked in the head as Roger was, only in different ways.

Running a hand over his buzz cut, the haircut being one habit left over from his army days he couldn’t seem to shake, he turned to look out the window near the bar. Seeing the Harleys parked outside the clubhouse, he thought about the time he’d spent trying to be the same man for his family.

Two weeks after climbing out of the car he’d rented to return home in, he’d gotten a job at the local packing factory as a manager. It hadn’t taken a month before he’d been fired. Not that he could blame them. It was frowned upon when you literally grabbed a customer by the throat and tried to kill him because the customer got in his face triggering a flashback. Buck took another swig from his beer, closing his eyes as more memories played out in his head. He had a fiancé back then, a sweet girl who’d baked pumpkin pies and made homemade bread. She’d been so disappointed when he’d told her about losing his job. She hadn’t understood what PTSD did to you any more than his momma did.

Buck wanted to be normal for her and his momma but it hadn’t been who he was any longer, and that had been clear from the moment he walked into the house he’d grown up in. All the pretty knick-knacks and doilies, and pictures of people smiling like their faces were going to break, had given him hives. He’d tried to go to a therapist for the nightmares and the sudden flashbacks, but it hadn’t helped. Nope, the nights spent drinking himself to sleep, worrying that he’d wake up screaming, had been hell for him, but they’d terrified his mother.

Fuck, nothing had helped.

He still had the nightmares but at least the flashbacks were gone now. Of course, he didn’t need bloody flashbacks to know that he was no longer a good man after ten years with the Grave Diggers MC. Maybe that was why his mind had stopped showing him all the horrible shit he’d done in the name of his country.

Fuck, did it really matter?

He was fucked up. Buck wasn’t too worked up about being part of an outlaw MC, even if it meant he was considered a dredge to society. He didn’t care what the fuck anyone thought about him or his brothers. Buck couldn’t figure out why he was sitting here reliving this shit tonight. Yeah, it still fucked with his head knowing he would always be that guy people in his little hometown pitied. He was the one everyone whispered about and he was a cautionary tale for young men who wanted to go into the service because he’d gone away to the army and come back a bad seed, a soulless man they all felt bad for because of who he rode with and the things he did for his family.

What the fuck ever.

Buck didn’t care. He’d seen enough shit over in those foreign countries to turn anyone’s hair grey and half the time the shit the club got up to wasn’t even half as bad as shit he’d done under orders from his commanding officers.

Buck shifted his ass on the stool trying to ease the tense muscles in his back and shoulders. He grabbed the second beer Toot set on the bar for him and took a long swig, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him tonight. He needed to quit thinking about this shit and get on with it for fuck’s sake.

“Hey Buck, when is the run tonight?” Joker yelled from across the room.

“ ’Bout twenty minutes or so when Choke gets here,” Buck called back.

Choke was the president of their MC and the boss for everyone here, including him. Buck was a lieutenant and second only to the president and vice president of the club. It allowed him a lot of freedom and he’d worked hard for the past ten years to get where he was. He didn’t answer for much and did whatever the fuck he wanted for the most part. The only rules were that he couldn’t betray the club and he had to defer to the vice, Shredder, and the prez, Choke, which meant there weren’t many rules. It was a damned good thing because Buck liked it that way.

“So no time for pussy then?” Joker asked, his arm wrapped around a sweetbutt who giggled and rubbed her bare tits on his arm.

“Depends on how fast you can get it done. No fucking around and being late but you think you can do it in fifteen minutes, go for it,” Buck yelled back.

“Hear that, sweet thing? Let’s go fuck real fast,” Joker said and began tugging the sweetbutt over to the couch nearby.

Buck shook his head. That boy was always thinking with his cock and one day he was going to fuck up because of it. Not that Buck didn’t like a good fuck; hell, he’d had a sweetbutt less than an hour ago in his room upstairs and he’d sure as shit took longer than fifteen minutes. He couldn’t say that he hadn’t had a quickie before but he preferred to take his time when he had a woman beneath him.

He stuck to whores or the free pussy because his head was too fucked up for anything serious. He wasn’t interested in long term unless it involved a few thousand g’s and a new gun. He wasn’t the relationship type and hadn’t been since he broke it off with that sweet little hometown girl whose heart he’d broken when he’d walked away. Still unsure why he was thinking about Lane and their inevitable break-up tonight, he glared at the beer in front of him.

“Hey, motherfucker, move. I’m trying to play a game here,” Dice roared.

Turning to see what the hell was going on, Buck watched Dice shove Hazard out of the way of the TV where he was playing some new shooter game he’d bought last week after gushing over it like a teenage girl. Buck shook his head; Dice got all bent about a fucking video game if he was interrupted or someone got in front of his TV. Most of the time it was entertainment for the group, who hung around throwing stale popcorn at the screen and teasing Dice when his character, a burly looking dude with a scar on his face, died under a hail of bullets.

It was funny that the six-foot man with a lean frame and a pretty baby face—a face he was still teased about—chose to create a beefy man with an ugly mug and scars as his avatar. Buck watched Dice kick Hazard’s leg and command him to quit being a dick. He shook his head because that move would end up making Hazard work at being even more of a dick. Buck snorted a little at the two men’s antics before turning back to glance out the window again. His hand rubbed absently at the paper label on the beer bottle, his mind sliding away from the heated argument that was now going on behind him and back into the past.

He needed to call his mother, he realized, because he hadn’t called her in over two months and she’d likely be worried. Those calls never went well and he tended to avoid them as much as possible only because he hated the lectures and the updates on how he should come home because of this or that happening. She was always telling him about the job openings in Round Top and reminding him that he should go straight and stop rebelling like a child throwing a tantrum. Round Top was a little town with an artsy-type community with antique markets and bake sales and it made him nauseated to think about living there again. She was always talking about how Lane—his once-fiancé—was single again and would love to get back together with him. Ha, as if he would know what to do with that innocent girl he remembered. He would chew that sweet bit of candy up and spit her out a bitter used up woman. Yeah, no thanks, Ma.

Buck felt a soft hand rub over his lower back and turned to find Tracy, the sweetbutt he had been fucking an hour ago, standing behind him. She smiled coyly at him and rubbed her impressive breasts against his arm. Her soft blonde hair was curled lightly and hung to her shoulders. He watched her purse her plump red lips. Buck knew what she wanted and grinned before he reached out and slipped his hand into her shirt to pinch one of her hard little nips. He’d fucked her against the pool table in the game room an hour ago but she was apparently still horny.

“Didn’t get enough earlier, huh?” he asked.

Tracy shook her head and he grinned; she loved nothing better than a good hard fuck. Buck was always more than willing to give it to her and had done so on more than one occasion. He shoved the thoughts of Lane and their fucked up relationship out of his head. Women like Tracy were what he understood now. Buck knew she had lived a hard life and she understood that him fucking her didn’t mean he’d marry her—she was definitely not a girl who thought sex meant love and a happily ever after.

“No, and you’re leaving soon. You going to be back early enough to take care of me later?” she asked, her red lips pouting as she began rubbing her hand over his semi-stiff cock.

“Don’t know,” Buck said, unwilling to commit to anything when he wasn’t sure he’d be in the mood to fuck her later. Not that telling her he’d come to her room would mean he couldn’t blow her off if he didn’t feel the need, but he tried not to be a dick most of the time. That was the reason he rarely had an issue getting one of the sweetbutts—or hell, any woman—to let him in their pants. She pouted and squeezed his cock, her breasts pushing into his hand as he rubbed over her nipples enjoying the soft flesh. “Please?”

His other hand slipped under her shirt to cup her other large D cup tit and tug on her stiff bud, seriously considering agreeing to fuck her when he returned. Pushing up the shirt to look at her breasts, he was about to lean forward and take one into his mouth when he paused. He was distracted from Tracy’s tits by another woman who pulled out the barstool next to him catching his attention. He dropped his hands from Tracy’s tits and turned to look at Margo.

“Go away, skank,” Margo growled, her hand waving at Tracy to leave as she sat down next to Buck at the bar. Tracy let out a huffy whine that made Buck’s slightly stiff cock deflate—he hated whining—and jerked her shirt down, glaring briefly at Margo. She didn’t talk back because Margo was Gunner’s old lady and she knew better than to sass her. There was a hierarchy in the club even among the women and old ladies out-ranked sweetbutts like her so she just moved away from Buck without speaking.

“Come by if you want when you get back, even if it’s late,” Tracy called over her shoulder as she moved away from the bar and headed towards the upper floor, likely to find a prospect who’d fuck her because she was horny.

“You could do so much better than these nasty whores, Buck,” Margo said, frowning at him as he watched the way Tracy’s ass swayed back and forth as she walked away.

“I’m sure I could if I wanted to but you know me, Margo, only interested in a quick fuck.” Buck knew he was likely not the only man who received the third degree from Margo about needing a ‘good’ woman. “Besides, good girls give me hives.”

Margo was always disappointed when the men she was friends with preferred the company of whores to nice girls like herself but she also understood how the club worked. Free pussy was a part of the life and most old ladies just hoped like hell their old men respected them enough not to take advantage of the offerings. Margo was one of the lucky few whose old man would sooner cut off his dick than hurt her by screwing around with other women.

It was a fact that the club didn’t usually allow old ladies to wander around the clubhouse unless their old man was with them but tonight was different. Margo was here because she had to be—with Gunner off on a run tonight it was the safest place for her to be. Their rivals, the Tricky Dicks MC, had threatened her life a few days ago because she was the reason one of their men had been beaten to death by the club a week ago when he’d tried to lay his hands on her in a bar she’d gone to with a few of the girls.

Buck knew she felt guilty that she was causing trouble even if it hadn’t been her fault because she was a sweet woman. She really wasn’t meant for this life but Gunner had fallen hard and fast for her over three years ago. The two of them had fought long and hard to make their relationship work and despite a few times during the first year when they’d broken up, they made each other happy.

Margo was likely one of his favorite old ladies in the club because she didn’t annoy the fuck out of him like most of them did. She didn’t give her old man shit about the week-long runs or the shit the club got into like most of the women here. She also rarely complained and he loved that about her. He was sure her naturally calm no-nonsense personality was one of the reasons Gunner loved her so much.

“You really need a good woman to straighten you out and one day when you meet her I’m going to remind you that you said that too.” Margo laughed, motioning for Toot to give her a beer and then turning to look at him.

“You likely won’t ever get the chance, sweetheart, ’cause that’ll be a cold day in hell. I’m not looking for long term—ever,” Buck said firmly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Sometimes it happens when we aren’t looking, Buck. Look at me and Gunner. Do you think either of us thought meeting at a church picnic would change our lives? Trust me, your day will come, I would bet my life on it. You’re not the type to stay alone forever,” Margo stated as she lifted the beer Toot had handed her to her lips, a slight smile playing around her mouth.

Buck didn’t know why the cold shiver raced down his spine but he didn’t like the odd sense of foreboding that he felt at her statement as he glanced outside seeing Choke pulling his bike to a halt. He finished his beer and said his goodbyes but that odd feeling didn’t leave him for hours after his conversation with Margo and he didn’t like it one damned bit.