Whiskey: Devil's Rose MC #2

Chapter 9: Eli Noble

"I want to fucking see them!"

"You have only been here six hours. I would appreciate it if you would stay the night."

"Hell no! Dr. Amin, thank you for the surgery and aftercare and everything, but I need to see them. I have to be with them."

"You are in denial."

"About what?"

"How much you love her. You can go, but please contact me if anything seems wrong or irritating."

"Thank you again."

"Anything for the Devil's Rose. You saved my wife's life. I can never repay you."

"No one said you had to."

She wipes away the tears that accumulated in her eye and carefully helps me out of the bed. With my arm in a sling, I'm not going to be able to drive or ride my motorcycle in about two weeks, and I couldn't be more devastated. 

The last time I went that long without driving is when I couldn't drive at all. But it could be worse, so I'm going to have to suck it up. One-handed, I slide on sweatpants and a tank top that Poison must have brought while I was in surgery earlier. 

The cold night makes me shiver, goosebumps lining my arms and legs. I see Major sitting on the driver's side of the golf cart - why Carbon bought that thing I have no idea - smoking dutifully on his cigarette. More like a cancer stick. 

I think he uses it to cope, as most people do, but I don't know what over. If anything, it's probably the reason he continues to smoke. He has all of those feelings hidden and buried inside of him and tries to release some of the ache, he smokes, but it won't work long term. Hopefully, he finds someone he trusts to help him with that.

When he sees me striding up the passenger side, he stomps the cancer stick out with the heel of his foot, flashing me a grimacing smile. He isn't the most talkative prospect that we have around, but I like him. He's a good man, and I have seen what he will do to protect those around him. He reminds me of Alpha in that way. 

However, right now, I'm more concerned with getting home to my girls. I mean...not my girls, but the girls. The two girls that I care about as I would care about anything - nothing more, nothing less. My leg jitters up and down as we get closer to Beatrice's apartment, my hands itching to feel the soft skin of her face as I greet her as she greeted me when I needed it most. 

The moment Major stops the golf cart, my feet land on the gravel road. He chuckles under his breath, not offended by my actions, and I hear the cart continue down the road. Where the fuck is he going?

My feet move of their own accord; past the elevator that doesn't work, running up two flights of stairs. My hands have a mind of their own; digging the key to her apartment out of my sweatpants pocket, shoving the door open quietly. 

The first thing that hits my scenes is her cherry scent that lingers beautifully throughout her home. I hold back my groan at the smell, not wanting to scare her or Navy by my unknown intrusion. My eyes sweep quickly around the dimmed apartment. 

A Goldfish bag lays on the island counter, grilled cheese remnants on two plates, and an empty lemonade container next to the sink. That's healthy. Please note the sarcasm. 

I run my tongue over my bottom lip as I make my way through to the living room, my whole body in need of Beatrice. My heart skips a beat when I see them. A thick blanket is thrown over their cuddling forms, her arm thrown around Navy protectively, their breathing even in their soundless sleep. 

Are they trying to kill me with their cuteness?

As quietly as I can, I leave them to sleep, cleaning up the mess in the kitchen as best as I can with only one arm. Finding a comfortable spot on the longways part of the couch, I lay my head down on the pillow, throwing another blanket over myself. But I can't seem to sleep - my thoughts running wild. 

Not only am I thinking about Navy and what she might have gone through, where her parents are, and what those men might have done to her, but Beatrice takes over my mind. I wanted, no needed, to get here to see her as soon as possible. 

I instantly felt better after I saw her earlier today when I just got back from the warehouse. I find myself searching for her, thinking about her, dreaming about her all the time. I need to be around her for my sanity; her scent, her voice, her clothes calm me. 

I have this desire to take care of her in ways I have never felt for anyone. I sound like a broken record, this not being the first time I thought this, but I messed everything up last time. How do I know I won't if I try something now?

She's so fucking intelligent and beautiful and strong. She's kind but doesn't take anyone's bullshit, and I love that about her. She's assertive and powerful, taking what she wants and having control while doing it - doing me. 

I run my hand down my face, knowing that once I start thinking about the sexual endeavors that the two of us have done, I'm never going to stop. I glance at her peaceful, sleeping form for a brief second before taking off my sling and allowing my eyes to close.

***

"Holy fuck! Whiskey!"

I hear a soft giggle and little hands press against my cheeks.

"Have mercy!"

I rub my eyes groggily as I blink them open. The sun streams the open blinds, the day probably beginning hours ago. Someone slaps at my cheeks - not enough to hurt but enough to jolt me even more awake. Navy straddles my chest, her beautiful and young blue eyes gazing at me softly and with curiosity. 

I give her a morning smile and pinch her cheek as a greeting. Her smile is wide while she clambers off of me, running in the direction of the kitchen where Beatrice's shouting is probably coming from. The sound of her bare baby feet against the wood floors is so adorable I might die. 

My heart aches with happiness, my arms wanting to wrap both of the girls up in a giant hug. I moan out when I try to stretch my arms upwards, completely forgetting about my arm. Brushing off the pain, I meander to the kitchen, my eyes running over Beatrice's gorgeous body. 

Her curves are covered with her loose, cream-colored pajamas that would feel so soft under my fingertips. Her naturally curly hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, her neck on full display. Fuck, I can only imagine how good it would feel to press my lips there.

She turns around, smiling widely at me. She comes up to me, wrapping me up in her warm arms, and I sigh in relief. I dig my nose into her neck, not being able to hold back from pressing a light kiss there. Her hands grip the back of my t-shirt at the action, her pelvis pushing against me, a soft sigh releasing from between her pink lips. 

I'm assuming that she appreciated the gesture. She peels reluctantly away from me, but I don't let her get too far before intertwining my hand in hers. The three of us, mostly Beatrice and Navy, get the breakfast consisting of bagels with cream cheese, fruit, oats and yogurt, and water together before setting it on the dining room table. 

With much protest from myself, Beatrice helps serve me up, saying I need to rest my arm. She also states that I will be staying with her until she thinks I'm completely healed. Goddamn, forget about wanting to drive again, let's hope I'm never healed.

Wanting to hear the sweet voice of the girl who woke me up this morning - correction, afternoon - I ask her what Beatrice and she did last night while I was away. She rambles on about a show that I don't understand, but I let her continue without interruption because, with the look on Beatrice's face, I can tell she's not a fan. 

My hand reaches below the table, entangling my fingers with hers, and squeezing her soft hands in mine. My pulse races at the innocent touch, and I desperately try to ignore the tightening of my jeans. I couldn't be more of a horny sixteen-year-old boy if I tried.