For fuck’s sake, there went his orgasm high. “Chelle, you don’t gotta do this. It’s a lotta work.”
She smiled. “So is all the painting you’re going to do.”
He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “Right. We’ll do some this weekend.”
“And I’ll get a lesson together for Tuesday. One night a week won’t be enough, though. I’ll make a schedule.”
She would make a fucking schedule.
“Fuckin’ you once a week won’t be enough, either. So, fit that in, too.”
Christ, painting, reading lessons, fucking Chelle...
He needed to head up the mountain at least once a week, too.
Another problem might be, if he was gone from the farm more often, questions about his whereabouts could be raised. He might have to give Trip a heads up. But then, of fucking course, that would lead to more questions.
And questions would lead to more answers he didn’t want to give.
Fuck.
Chapter Fourteen
The lessons were slow, torturous and frustrating as all fuck. Only bearable because he got to spend time with Chelle.
Painting sucked ass. Only bearable because he got to spend time with Chelle.
And her girls.
A couple of times in the past two weeks, one or both of her daughters joined them. Basically making more of a mess than actually helping. It was worth it, though. He got to listen to the three of them chatter away. Joking, laughing, talking about boys, school and their jobs. He got to watch them interact, their love and the closeness they shared unmistakable and real.
Even better, more talking between them meant less talking for Shade.
But within all the words they shared with each other, they only talked about what was happening in their lives currently or in the near future.
They never talked about the past.
Never mentioned the man in the picture.
Chelle never mentioned her husband. The girls never mentioned their father.
He wasn’t sure if that was normal for them, or if they didn’t want to talk about him in front of Shade.
Maybe the reason the man was no longer in the picture was because he was abusive and a complete dick, and they were happy to be rid of him. But if that was true, it made no sense why Chelle would keep her wedding picture on the mantel.
And only that one.
He wanted to ask. He fought asking every fucking night they spent together at her kitchen table and every weekend he was there to paint.
He didn’t ask because it wasn’t his fucking business. If she wanted to talk about him, she would and Shade would simply listen.
Not only were the reading lessons frustrating, so were the last two weeks since they hadn’t had the opportunity to fuck again.
Shade had even pulled Ozzy aside and asked about using one of the rooms.
Oz had given him a knowing look, a grin and a, “Fuck yeah, brother, whenever you need it.”
Chelle also decided they weren’t fucking again until they could do it in a bed. And not until Shade was fully naked.
He was good with the first, not so good with the second. But he’d figure it out when the time came.
Only they hadn’t had the time to do it in a bed and her requirement meant a quickie behind the shed was out. Which sucked because he needed to be inside Chelle again soon.
Most of the time he sat next to her with a raging hard-on, dying to sweep the books and the laptop to the floor and take her right there on the kitchen table.
It had come close a couple of times.
After his lessons, he’d gone back to the farm, did what Red called a little self-medicating and then, a little self-help.
But, for fuck’s sake, that was getting old.
Instead of painting this afternoon after the club run, he hoped they’d hit the motel instead.
Chelle’s girls were spending the day with their cousins and some friends, so they probably wouldn’t even know their mother wasn’t home. If they came home early, they were more than old enough to take care of themselves and at least wouldn’t catch him with his pants down and his dick in their mother.
He might not talk a shitload, but he had a hard time not staring at Chelle like she was his favorite meal. So, he figured the girls had a feeling about the two of them.
On the weekends, while they painted, or even during dinner afterward, he caught the nudges and whispers between the sisters whenever they noticed Chelle and Shade “accidentally” brushing against each other, whether it was their fingers, shoulders or even their hips.
Even more telling was the flush in Chelle’s cheeks, the sparkle in her brown eyes, or the way her nipples responded when he was close.
Or her ragged breathing when he was even closer.
Even so, he was pretty damn sure they would approve of their mother getting laid. Maybe even encourage it. Which meant they wouldn’t be upset if they caught him with his dick in their mother.
However, Chelle would.
So, they did their best to keep the fact to themselves that they were climbing the walls to climb each other. Shade was fucking fine with that since he wanted the woman to be able to live with getting dick from a biker eleven years younger than her.
While they kept that secret from Josie and Maddie, he’d given his prez the lowdown on him helping out a single mother with painting for some extra scratch.
That was exactly how he worded it, too, and then shut the fuck up since there was nothing else to say.
Trip had stared at him for way too fucking long without saying a word.
When Trip finally spoke—right before Shade walked away thinking they were done—he surprised the shit out of Shade by saying, “Invite her on the run Sunday.”
That was the last thing he expected to come from the Fury president’s mouth. The man never encouraged anyone to bring females along on a run, especially women who weren’t ol’ ladies. He tolerated Reilly on the runs because Reilly was Reilly. And while she wasn’t claimed by anyone, she had forced them to accept her as part of the club. The fact was it was easier and less aggravating to cave to Reilly than fight her, since she had the same stubborn blood as her sister, Reese.
But Chelle wasn’t Reilly. Thank fuck. She also wasn’t an ol’ lady or even Shade’s regular. And they were keeping what was between them on the D.L.
“Ain’t like that.”
“Gonna get cold soon, so when it is like that, she’ll have to wait ‘til spring to get a good handle on our club.”
It was more like Trip wanted to get a good handle on Chelle. Shade wasn’t sure he liked that.
“Ain’t like that,” he repeated under his breath. But when his president gave an order, he needed to listen. Right now, Shade was thinking it was only a suggestion and didn’t want it turning into an order if he could help it.
“She can’t have that big of a fuckin’ house for all the time you’ve been gone the last coupla weeks.”
Fuck, Trip had noticed. Or someone else had noticed Shade had been missing a lot and mentioned it to Trip.
“Been up the mountain, too.”
“Know when you go up the mountain, since you give Judge the heads up.” Trip tilted his head. “Also know you ain’t into the sweet butts and never saw you touch one of the hang-arounds. Pretty sure you’re into pussy like the rest of us. A man can only go so long before he’s gotta sink his dick into something attached to long hair, sweet curves and a skilled mouth. A fist ain’t gonna cut it on the regular. Unless you got yourself a Fleshlight...”