He’d never been so possessive of her and she loved every moment. The pain would go away, so she bent over again, resting her head on the bed, and let him fuck her into oblivion.
Not trusting Axel, Kaia hung out in the gathering area near the bedroom he shared with the kid. His head was shaved, which hurt because he considered his hair the best part of his physical appearance.
Leaning back on the sofa, he stared at the ceiling, brooding, wishing for a cigarette, but not feeling like playing twenty questions with Axel. No matter how much he wanted to be a man, he was a kid. The staff was gone, so Axel needed to know Kaia was still there, just outside smoking.
Again—twenty questions.
Jana crossed his mind and he cursed. He was spending entirely too much fucking time thinking about her since their text exchange. Outrage still pounded through him forso many different reasons. He liked Jana, thought she was very pretty and deserved so much better than Diesel.
But it wasn’t his place to push the issue. They’d become friends. Besides, she wouldn’t listen anyway. She had one objective—to please that motherfucker.
Who thought Kaia was nothing but trash, unworthy to breathe the same air as any of them. He’d crash the fuck out if he knew about Kaia and Jana’s friendship.
Kaia smiled, visions of Diesel discovering that information dancing in his head. He didn’t want to get Jana in trouble anyway. Or himself. Undoubtedly, Diesel would kill him, no matter who said he couldn’t. He’d find a way. Maybe, get one of his overgrown, psycho friends to do the job.
The sudden burst of Rebel’s laughter, followed by Meggie’s, shocked him and he sat up. He hadn’t heard them come inside. But the house was so huge, it wasn’t even ahouse. It was an estate. Much like the treehouse Rebel offered him wasn’t actually a fucking treehouse.
What the fuck was he doing? When he met CJ and Ryan, eager to join the team. He’d heard about the Caldwell boys and all their cousins, heard there were three girls associated with them. Rumors swirled about their wealth and the identity of their fathers. Kaia didn’t give it much thought, even after he began hanging out with them after games at pizza joints andburger places with CJ, and was sometimes joined by Diesel, Outlaw, Mortician, and some of the other guys, especially if they were celebrating a win, confirming theiraffiliationhadn’t mattered.
He wanted to go to the club because he’d always been interested in Harleys and MCs. CJ never invited him. Despite rumors that CJ was a “rich boy”, Kaia dismissed it. Some biker clubs had wealth circulating because they were infamous and well-connected. They had pipelines going in all directions. Drugs, money, women, and guns went out and big money flowed in. It was the bread-and-butter of most clubs, but the big, wealthy ones, had entire territories locked down and then pushed beyond those boundaries.
He never realized the Death Dwellers fell under that umbrella. That when CJ was called a “rich boy”, he wasrich. Very. Substantially. He was also close to the Harringtons, a philanthropic family of businessmen, attorneys, and politicians. He didn’t understand all the family connections, since Knox was an only child. Not that it mattered. They were worthbillions. CJ was also close to Mortician, whose house—estate—Kaia was currently in.
He tipped his hand back to stare at the pristine white ceiling.
Footsteps rushed up the stairs. Clasping his hands, he glanced over his shoulder. Rebel bound into view and walked to him, confidentand knowing she owned the world. Proud of it, as a matter of fact.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“I thought I heard you and your mom laughing a few minutes ago.
She nodded, her short dress and high heels making her legs look endless. She wore makeup, which made her look so much older. Her jewelry sparkled.
“Real?”
She frowned. “What?”
“The diamonds.”
“Oh.” Her lips curved into a smile and she giggled. Her eyes were bright and happy. “Yeah, they are.”
“You look older,” he said, unsure how to respond to her admission.
“Legal?”
“Exactly. A dream and a nightmare rolled into one.”
Laughing, she came and plopped next to him, then laid her head on his shoulder. Expensive perfume teased him, her silky golden hair brushing his forearm. Alcohol wafted from her.
“You’ve been drinking?”
She lifted her head. “Yep,” she said happily, then lowered her voice. “Momma got a fake ID for me.” Nudging him, she placed a finger over her lips. “Our secret. You can’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret’s safe with me, babe.”
Her beautiful lips tempted him. She seemed to like kissing. He could teachher. Now. Tonight. While she looked so much older. Of course, Rebel looked older most of the time. It was the way she carried herself.
He turned slightly. “Is your mom still in the kitchen?”
