Page 38 of Doozer
“You’ve just said that if she goes, he’ll be useless, so fix that.”
“I have. She’s not going.”
“But she wants to go.”
“So?” I growled. “She knew what she was doing when she patched-in.”
“She was in love,” Cricket said. “She patched-in to stay with Doozer.”
“She patched-in because Doozer and Elwood were so busy with custom bike orders, I needed another mechanic, and this is the best club in the U.S. of fuckin’ A.”
“This is all very true,” she conceded. “But…”
“But?
“You don’t think Trouble has the right to pick which path in life she takes?” Cricket asked. “That young woman has had her life dictated to her from the get-go and she’s spinning out of control, honey. And you know I know what that’s like.”
“She’s not spinning out of control.”
Cricket leaned toward me. “She’s absolutely spinning. She’s just really fucking good at hiding her emotions. And you know it.”
I sighed. She was right. I did know it. Trouble was on edge. She was itching for something, but I’d talked myself into believing she was just itching to ride. We’d been shuttered at the Sanctuary due to Portland rain and we were all jonesing for the road.
“The problem is, if she goes to Quantico, Doozer’s gonna lose his fuckin’ mind whether he’s hereorthere. He’s dealing with all this shit with his dad, and he’s also got some major anger issues he’s gotta get hold of. If he fucks up on FBI turf, it could mean jail time.”
She pulled the clip out of her hair and her blonde waves fell gently around her shoulders. “Then that’s on him, honey.”
“It’s not on him, Christina, it’s on me.” I slapped my chest. “It means I’m not doin’ my job and protectin’ him.”
She sighed. “The ultimate protection is letting him love his woman. Taxi will be there to monitor any issues that come up, and Duke and Pearl are barely eight hours away by car. If things get hairy, you can call the cavalry.”
Duke was the man who’d healed me. He owned a ranch in the Georgia countryside, and he’d ridden with the Burning Saints back in the seventies. He’d never patched into the Burning Saints, but the club had adopted him, anyway. He’d been married to his woman, Pearl, for more than fifty years and he was still a badass at almost eighty.
“I can’t subject Duke and Pearl to Doozer. They’re elderly, and it’s too much.”
Cricket settled her knee on the bed, hoisting herself onto the mattress and straddling me. “You’re so cute when you’re being ridiculous. Duke could still kickyourass.”
I cupped her breasts, tugging the cups down to free her nipples, running my tongue over one nipple, then the other.
“Was this your plan all along?” I accused, sliding her bra straps down her arms before unhooking it and dropping it to the floor.
“To get you to suck the girls?” she asked. “Absolutely.”
I grinned up at her as I rolled her nipples between my fingertips, pinching as I did. “You really think I should let them go?”
“Yeah, honey, I really think you should let them go,” she said, leaning down to kiss me.
I dipped my hand under the waistband of her panties and slid it between her legs, slipping my fingers into her wet heat. Cricket dropped her head back and pressed her clit against my palm.
Just as a howl sounded through the baby monitor.
“No, no, no, no,” Cricket whined as we both stalled.
“Be very still. Maybe he’ll go back to sleep.”
“Mama!” Cutter screamed.
She dropped her forehead to mine as I slid my hand out of her. “Shit.”
