Butch

“Not a lot. He’s just recently left The Skulls. Fucker couldn’t hack the life anymore.”

“Oh, he could hack the life. Butch was born and bred in the MC life.” Frederick snapped the folder closed. “Get me everything on the clubs, connections, women, everything. I don’t want you to leave anything out.”

His men got straight to work, leaving him alone to watch Ashley bathe herself. She really was a beautiful woman. It was a shame her loyalties lay elsewhere. His father had taught him the basic rules of survival. Never trust a woman, kill the enemy, and walk away alive. He’d watched his father put a bullet in his mother’s head because she’d spoken to the pool boy. Frederick had learned a lot from his father. By the time he was eighteen he was more than capable of taking over the family business.

He smiled recalling the shock on his father’s face when he’d walked in telling him he wanted a job. When his father offered him any job, Frederick had raised a gun and told him straight. “I want your job.” He killed his father and took the throne. Now business was thriving better than ever before. No one was going to get the better of him. His own father had raised a monster, and Frederick wasn’t going to be taken down easily. This world was going to be all of his.

Chapter Four

On Friday night her mother took Matthew for the night leaving her alone with Butch. He offered to take her out to a posh restaurant where they could be waited on hand and foot. She didn’t want that. After the amazing day at the mall they’d spent together Cheryl wanted to give him something back. Cooking was something she loved doing, and without worrying about Matthew, she devoted her time to making the perfect meal. Tomorrow they were heading to the fair with her son, so there would be no chance of getting to know one another. Chicken pasta bake was keeping warm in the oven as she made her way upstairs to change. After a quick shower, she dried her hair letting the length fall around her in waves. The dress she wore was the red cocktail dress Butch had bought for her. There was nowhere she’d ever go in such a luxurious dress, yet she enjoyed the feel of the fabric against her skin and wanted to show him the pleasure she got from wearing something he gave her. She put on lipstick and a bit of eye shadow before going back to the kitchen

Tying an apron around her waist, she set the table ignoring the warnings she received from her mother. Nothing good would come from falling in love with a biker or being with a biker. Nothing good had come from her being with an older businessman. Shoving the thoughts aside she focused on dinner, which she was pulling out of the oven when the doorbell rang. Running her sweaty palms down her dress, she walked toward the door.

You shouldn’t have done this. This is all too much.

They’d shared kisses and a few secrets, nothing else. Opening her front door she froze in place as Butch stood in a pair of dark blue jeans and a short sleeved white tee-shirt. He looked normal almost.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She saw all the ink up and down his arms displaying his past within the club. Instead of wanting to turn away from the raw masculinity staring her in the face, her pu**y got soaking wet. This person in front of her was a proper man, not a boy pretending to be a man. He was in his mid-thirties, but even men that age are prone to act like children.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked, finally finding her voice.

He stepped through the door, and she moved out of the way for him to enter. “Thanks, babe. Dinner smells amazing.”

She smiled. “Thanks. I’m about to dish up. Do you want to come on through?” Crap, she was starting to sound like some waitress.

Butch caught her hand. “You’re not getting away from me that easily.” The door was closed, and he pressed her against it. “Where’s Matthew?”

“At my mother’s.”

Was he going to kiss her? She didn’t know what to expect, and the anticipation was killing her.

“You didn’t have to get rid of him for me.”

“I didn’t. Matthew loves spending time with my mom. She loves having him. I thought it would be nice for us to be alone.” He cupped her cheek, and all thought fled her mind at the contact. His palm was rough from years of hard work. Butch wasn’t shy about work.

“We’re alone?”

“Yes.” The word came out as a croak. He was invading her privacy, and her body was coming alive after years of being kept asleep.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this all day.” Butch leaned in close. His breath fanned across her face, making her moan. Tilting her head back, she ran her hands up his chest wanting more than anything to feel his lips on hers.

You’ve known him long enough to want this. Don’t feel guilty for wanting this.

In that moment with his lips mere inches from her face, she didn’t give a shit either way. His lips were on hers, and she was in heaven. Tugging at the strands of hair at the back of his neck, she moaned at the feel of his hard body pressed against hers. Closing her eyes, she melted against him. The hand on her cheek sank into her hair, tugging on the strands while his other gripped her hip tightly.

Lifting her leg over his hip, she felt the hard ridge of his c**k pressing against her core. His tongue plundered her mouth as she rode his body. All sense left her as her body took over. She knew what she wanted even though her mind was trying to fight.

Butch stopped kissing her. He was poised over her, waiting. “I’m not going to f**k you up against the wall.”

His harsh words had her gasping. Humiliation swamped her as her stomach rumbled giving way to her hunger. “I’m also not going to f**k you until after we eat.”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and she made to go, dropping her leg from his hip. He caught her arm as she made to disappear into the kitchen. His finger rested under her chin, and she had no choice but to stare into his eyes.

“What’s the problem?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re hungry. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

“I know. I’m going to go and serve up.” She tugged out of his hold rushing toward the kitchen. She couldn’t believe her stomach had growled during his kiss. It was humiliation. Within seconds she felt him filling the small space of her kitchen. Glancing over her shoulder she saw his eyes were on her.

“I quit The Skulls for my own reasons, but I can’t change who I am.”

She placed a slice of baked pasta onto a plate and served herself up a slice. “I’m not asking you to change who you are,” she said. Cheryl handed him a plate then took a seat herself.