Page 54 of Knot My MC
Who the women are doesn’t make me feel better. But maybe I don’t need to worry. Jag said they hadn’t been with anyone.
“Hey, guys,” a soft, high pitched voice calls.
Another rumble works its way through my chest and Crow digs his fingers into my skin. It’s cute he thinks that would stop me.
“Ignore her. She’s screwing Mountain.” Crow presses in closer.
The tension between my shoulder blades loosens as soon as we’re out in the fresh air. I need to get a handle on my instincts. They’ve never been this out of control. The only thing that makes sense is that I’ve finally reached my mental capacity for bullshit. That or my heat is coming.
I can’t think about what that means.
“Where’s Nova?” The other omega had nearly made me lose control. Granted, I did junk punch Jag, but I was half ready to set fire to their place as payback so one might say I had perfect control over my emotions seeing as I didn’t do that.
“Resting at Rita’s.”
I don’t react to her name as violently as the first time I heard it, but a sudden urge to mark my territory rushes through me. I brush my wrist over Crow’s hand and play it off like I was trying to fix my top. His fingers pulse against my side and I suck in a breath, thinking he caught me.
“Who do you want to ride with?” His hand leaves my side as he asks the question.
Jag and Knox are already sitting on their bikes. Both of them study me a little too closely. I should demand my own bike, but the morning is going to be heavy and I shouldn’t be riding with my brain this twisted up. It’s dangerous. Does it matter who I pick? Will I hurt someone’s feelings by choosing one over the other? I’ve already marked Crow with my scent, and I’ve already ridden with Jag. I step toward Knox and his lips kick up.
“I knew you’d come for me, Angel.”
The innuendo isn’t lost on me. A shiver races down my spine as I make my way to him, my body suddenly flushed with need. He catches the helmet Jag tosses at him—myhelmet they kept for three years—and holds it out for me. His eyebrows lift a little when I hesitate. He thinks I’ll chicken out. I snatch the helmet, and he presses his lips together and looks away.
He doesn’t tease me like he could as I settle in behind him. No jokes about taking me for a ride. I’m relieved he doesn’t. There’s only so many emotional outbursts I can handle in such a short amount of time. I’m not proud of the way I’ve been behaving. From here on out, I’ll do better. I’ll be stronger than my omega instincts.
But if my heat is really on the way, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to resist the inherent desire to be claimed. According to everything I’ve learned, there’s no rationalizing when the heat fever sets in. There will be no hiding how I really feel; and I fear soon enough they’ll find out exactly what I need.
The bikes rumble to life, and I slip my arms around Knox, rubbing my wrists over his shirt as I do it. He leads the others onto the road, and when he hits a speed fast enough to justify me pressing every inch of my body against his, I do just that. He doesn’t react. Maybe he does know me as well as he says he does. If he responded to my touches in some way, I’d instantly pull back. But here on the ride, he gives me the illusion of being oblivious, and I take full advantage. I might be pissed at them, but there’s no avoiding the truth.
My heat is on the way.
I want them.
I’ll need them.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
KIKI
The guys wait outside for me, and for that, I’m thankful. It would be embarrassing for them to witness the way I pause at the base of the stairs, staring up at them and willing Dad to appear. Of course, he doesn’t. The longer I’m in the house without him, the more unsteady I get. Shaking off the sadness, I take the world’s quickest shower, not bothering with washing my hair, and brush my teeth. I get changed into a pair of shorts and a simple top and make quick work of filling two backpacks.
Ten minutes later I lock up the house with my bags in tow. One is filled with my clothes and a picture of my parents I wrapped in a shirt. I couldn’t find my favorite beanie—another thing I carelessly misplaced, but I can always buy another one. The other bag has essential toiletries. A cigar, a bottle of whiskey, and a lighter are in the second backpack too. Dad’s favorite straight cutter weighs down my pocket. Jag and Crow take the bags from me and I settle in behind Knox once more. He hands me the helmet and watches as I secure my hair before slipping it on.
“Ready?” he asks. My scent is all over him, but he’s not complaining.
“Sort of. Can we go to Tiny Pier?” It’s a forty minute ride from Dolin, but it was Dad’s favorite fishing spot. It’s lesser known and peaceful. Plus, Axel never knew about it. Dad would leave his phone at home and take me up there from time to time, leaving the Wrecker world behind if only for a few hours.
Knox nods and pulls away from the house. I don’t look back. There are other things I’d like to grab, but I’ll wait to go back for that stuff when the time comes. The world still thinks my Dad is alive. His death won’t be reported. The home is paid for. We owe a small chunk of property taxes and insurance each year, but for now there’s enough money in the bank to cover the recurring expenses.
I lean into Knox’s body, soaking up his scent and losing myself to the rumble of the bike and the world rushing by. It’s a warm day, but there’s only one person fishing when we arrive. He’s set up on the other end of the pond and sitting on the bed of his truck. The guys park and nod at the man, who merely dips his head in acknowledgement before going back to enjoying the scenery.
The pond itself is more like a tiny lake. It’s big enough to take out a small paddle boat, but most people set up somewhere along the edge and cast their lines. The pier—my favorite spot—is blessedly deserted. I grab the bag with the things I need and make my way over the worn planks. The pier bobs a little, but I’m not worried about it breaking. The Parks & Rec crew reinforced it about a year ago and even if it did break, the water isn’t that deep.
I sit down and take off my shoes and socks, setting them aside before scooting to the edge and sticking my feet in. The dock jostles as the guys join me. I don’t bother glancing back. One by one, they sit on either side of me. Crow on my right, Knox and Jag on my left. A little grin breaks across my face when Knox slips off his Doc Martens. He stuffs his socks inside the boots and tests the water.
“Scared?” I tease.
