The next morning, I woke up with Jericho wrapped around me, one arm over my stomach and his leg tucked between mine. I looked at the time—6:45. I had half an hour until my alarm went off, and the sleepy part of me wanted to close my eyes and forget consciousness was a thing.
But the other part of me registered the hard body behind me, evidence of his maleness poking me in the butt.
I rocked into him, and he groaned, stretched, and held me tighter.
We hadn’t fucked last night when I’d brought him in. I could tell something was off with him, so I took him downstairs, tucked him under the covers, and wrapped myself around him until the tension eased.
But this morning?
Well, I lived to be a tease.
I rolled my ass against him again and he moaned, nibbling at my shoulder and digging his fingers into the crotch of my panties so he could pull the fabric to the side. His cock pressed at my entrance, and I arched into him, granting silent permission he hadn’t asked for. I gasped when he surged home, all the way in, all at once.
Jericho was big, and I wasn’t prepared, but he moved his callused fingers to my clit and the friction opened me like a lotus, bared completely to him. It was slow and lazy, born out of this intimacy between us where we swore there was none. I came first, clawing at his arm wrapped around my chest, euphoria exploding in my veins.
His orgasm hit next, and he dug his teeth into my skin, marking me. And maybe I’d turned into some kind of sicko because I hoped it’d be permanent. I hoped everyone saw them and knew he’d put them there.
When we were a sated pile of mush, I climbed out of bed to hit the shower. Jericho wordlessly followed me, blinking into the bathroom light with that adorable, sleepy look on his face.
“Morning,” he grumbled.
“Morning.” I turned on the water and stepped inside, closing the glass door when he came in behind me. I backed up until my knees hit the cool tile bench, adjusting the second showerhead so I had some water, too. “What are your plans for the day?”
He shrugged. “Work. There’s a pickup that needs a new engine. Maybe some struts to replace.”
“Fun.”
“What about you?”
I grabbed the washcloth and sudsed it, circling it over my arms and breasts and down my stomach. “Um… I have some client calls. Maybe I’ll film a scene later.”
“You better wait for me to get home to film.” He wrapped his arms around me, nibbling my earlobe and sending chills down that whole side of my body. “Wait… client calls?”
“I meet with fans one-on-one,” I said absently, like it meant nothing. Because it did mean nothing to me. It didn’t matter whether the fans watched my live feed or my edited videos. Camming was camming. But Jericho’s arms tensed around me, and he let out a low growl, almost like a warning.
“What’s that noise?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t like it.”
“That’s too bad. It’s a big part of my income.” I pursed my lips and tried to pull away, but he held me tighter.
“How big?”
I laughed and pressed my lips to the center of his chest, trying to seduce him into letting go. “You can’t afford me, Mr. Mechanic Man.”
“Maybe Jericho can’t afford you, but Kaleb can.”
“Oh, not yet,” I said, giving him another kiss. This time I went lower, above his heart. He loosened his hold and paused, staring down his body at me flicking my tongue over the divots in his stomach. Inching lower. Teasing choice bits. His cock jerked against me, making me chuckle.
“I thought we were exclusive,” he said.
“No one’s touching me,” I said. “They don’t even know who I am. They’re just getting a private show.” Another kiss. Another lick. A hint of teeth just above his cock. It kicked harder.
Jer took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. “It does make me hot to know I’m the only one who gets to touch you.”
“See?” I coasted the tip of my tongue over his cockhead. He groaned and put his hands in my hair, tugging me up.
“Don’t think you can seduce me into being okay with this.” He grabbed my chin and forced me to look back at him. “How much would you have to make to stop doing the private sessions?”
“We’d have to film a lot more. Like… a lot more. Some of my clients tip me a grand at a time.”
He nodded and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Challenge accepted.”
I laughed until I realized he wasn’t kidding. “Oh. You mean that.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was normal. “We can film in the morning before I go to work and when I get back at the end of the day.”
I grimaced, my pussy practically revolting at the thought. “That’s a lot of fucking.”
“Listen, I’m a territorial shit.” He took a step closer. “You said we were exclusive. That means no one else. Now, I know you’ve got bills to pay, so if there’s a way I can have my cake and eat it out, then…”
I rolled my eyes at his pun.
“It bugs me, you talking to other people the way I want you talking to me. Even if it’s just online.” He ran his hands over my shoulders and up my neck to cup my jaw. “I don’t share. Ever.”
I understood, and if the shoe were on the other foot, I wouldn’t like it either. I wouldn’t say I was falling in love with Jericho, but there was a part of me, still small and nascent, that considered him mine. Already and forever.
“You should know, you’re like… a thousand times better for me than any of them. And you’re here. Right here. In front of me.” I kissed his chest again. His neck. His collarbone. “There’s no way I’d leave you for them.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re mine. End it. Tonight.”
I looked between his eyes, willing to compromise, but wanting to be sure this plan would work. “You make up my income first, then I’ll end it.”
He growled his protest, but didn’t argue any further. Just flipped me around and bent me over the bench so he could fuck me again before work.
* * *
I spent most of the day taking care of Mom, and once she was settled in, I texted Jericho, who gave me very specific instructions for later.
Jericho: Don’t come on any of the calls today. Save it for me. Only me.
Which I agreed to because a) it was super fucking hot when he gave me commands, and b) it was easy to fake it with these people. The real work was about them. Making them miserable or happy, depending on what they were into. At the end of the day, they paid to come. It didn’t matter whether I did.
By the time Jericho got home, I’d made enough money to afford the medical payment and next week’s grocery bill, and I still had time to put the chicken in the oven.
“Wow, four times in one week,” Mom said when he came in the front door, dirty and filthy from the shop. He had a duffel bag in one hand and his cut in the other. “Aren’t we lucky?” Mom looked at me in the kitchen, but I ignored her in favor of my greasy mechanic.
Jesus Christ.
I didn’t know T-shirts covered in motor oil and ripped-up dirty jeans could be a kink, but there I stood, lusting after my cam colleague and blushing in front of my mother.
“Are you saying you’re sick of me, Penny?” Jericho smiled and winked.
“I’d never get sick of you, Jericho,” Mom said. “But I am wondering if you’re gonna start paying rent. A week’s a guest. A month’s a roommate.”
“Mom!” I hissed.
“What?” She shrugged at me. “We could use the help.”
“He is helping,” I said.
“How?” She furrowed her brows at me.
“Never mind.” I returned my attention to Jer. “Are you hungry? I’m making chicken with rice and broccoli.”
“Sounds great,” he said. “I’ll take a shower and be right up.”
I smiled and bit my bottom lip, watching him walk through the living room to the door leading downstairs.
Again, I felt Mom’s glare on me. “What?”
“What’s he doing here?” she said. “Are you two dating?”
“We’re working together,” I said before I could stop it. “On a project.”
“What project?”
I rubbed the space between my brows. “You said you wouldn’t ask how I paid for things.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s when I thought you were paying for them by yourself. Are you sleeping with him for money?”
“What?” I acted shocked, but she wasn’t too far from the truth. “No!”
“Operating a phone sex line is one thing, but I draw the line at prostitution.”
“Is that what you think I do?” I asked. “Operate a phone sex line?”
“Well?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You won’t tell me what it really is, so I assume it’s something you don’t want me to know. I hear you down there talking to people sometimes.”
I took a deep breath and pulled the chicken out of the oven. “It’s not 1994. No one calls phone sex lines anymore. Everyone looks at OnlyFans.”
“What’s that?” Mom grabbed her phone and started typing, but I couldn’t get to her fast enough to stop it.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, damn. Girls are doing this these days?”
I cleared my throat and nodded to the basement. “We’re doing this these days.”
“You’re doing this… together?”
My cheeks burned, and I shook my head. “I was doing it on my own, but I met Jericho at a party and then… well… we’re doing pretty good so far. Please don’t judge me.”
“Judge you?” She laughed and shook her head. “Honey, I commend you. I wish this shit was around when I was your age. God, you know what I used to do when I was in my twenties? Restock videos at Blockbuster. Jesus Christ. OnlyFans. Wow.”
I laughed, a great weight easing off my chest. “I’m happy I told you. I’m sorry I kept it from you this long.”
She smiled. “You can always tell me anything, baby.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too.”
I hugged her, and overcome with the notion this might be the last time I confessed anything to her, tears welled in the corners of my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. Sobs choked out of my throat, and Mom held me tighter with her weak arms.
Then my stomach growled, and she laughed, letting me go.
“I like him, you know.” She nodded toward the basement. “He looks at you the right way.”
“Oh yeah?” I wiped under my eyes. “What way’s that?”
“Like he’s afraid he’ll break you, but he’s damn determined to protect you from everything else that ever could.”
I cleared my throat and tried to smile through the ache that caused.
“It’s the way your daddy looked at me.” She dabbed at her eye and forced a smile on her face, grabbing my hand with a squeeze. “But I want you to promise me something.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Okay, Mom. Anything.”
“Don’t you dare fall in love with him.”
My heart clenched, and my stomach dropped somewhere around my knees.
It might already be too late for that.
I pushed that thought away and forced a grin.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’ve only known him a week.”
She mumbled a low uh-huh. “I’ve dated lots of bad boys in my day, Alba. That life?” She shook her head. “It’s dangerous. Bloody. And if they don’t end up dead by the time they’re forty, it’s the pen.” Something flickered behind her eyes, an expression I could only guess at. “He’ll never choose you over the club. He’s sworn his life to them, and they’ll always come first. Before everything.”
I opened my mouth to ask how she could possibly know that, but the basement door opened and Jericho walked through it, freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes with that smile on his face.
“You want me to set the table?” He looked between my mom and me before heading into the dining room to do it anyway.
I wanted to circle back to her comment about how she knew what life in an MC would be like. She’d grown up in the suburbs. My grandparents died some time ago, and my sperm donor’s parents didn’t know I existed. My dad had been a business owner-turned-alcoholic who lost it all shortly after conceiving me. None of that involved bad boys or outlaws or sexy men on bikes.
But I chose not to bring it up again. Instead, I focused on getting supper together. It had been months since we’d eaten in the dining room like a proper family, but Jericho sat across from me and I angled Mom at the head. We turned the TV off and talked about our days.
“I finally figured out the pickup.” Jericho took a bite of the chicken and sighed, nodding like it was amazing. “Delicious, sunshine. Jesus.”
“Thank you.”
He filled us in on the things he’d done at work, and I told him Mom knew our dirty little secret but didn’t care. And somewhere around me refilling everyone’s drinks, Mom piped up with, “Hey, Jericho, guess what?”
“What’s that, Penny?”
“I found someone to babysit me for free on Friday night.”
“Really?” He smiled, glancing up while I poured water from the pitcher into his glass.
“Yep,” she said. “An old friend I haven’t seen in a while.”
“Is it an old friend or, you know, an old friend?” Jericho winked, making her laugh and shake her head.
“Maybe both.”
“All right, Penny.” Jericho nodded at her. “Get it.”
“I was thinking maybe you could take Alba on a date. Get her out of the house.”
I gasped and straightened, setting the pitcher down so I could reprimand my mother at her own table. “Mom! I don’t need your help—”
“Of course,” Jericho interrupted. “I’d be honored.”
I sighed. “I’m sure you’ve got a million better things to do on a Friday night than take me anywhere.”
“Yeah?” He pursed his lips, stabbed a broccoli floret, and bit into it before saying, “Like what?”
“All your biker club stuff.” I scooped some rice into my mouth. “Don’t you have like… bad guys to beat up or whatever?”
He snorted out a laugh, my cheeks burning when adoration flitted behind his eyes. And I knew then what my mother meant by liking the way he looked at me.
“I only do that on Sundays.” Jericho tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Fridays are for taking out pretty girls.”
“Then it’s settled,” Mom cut in. “Don’t come home before midnight. No, one. I need the extra hour to recoup.”
“Jesus Christ.” I laughed and covered my face with my hands.
“Deal.” Jericho grinned and took a drink of water, the muscles in his tattooed throat working when he swallowed.
God, he was so gorgeous. And funny and smart and sweet. I didn’t know how I’d lucked out and found him.
I’m not a good guy, Alba.
He’d told me that our second night together after he came on my tits and I licked it off my fingers. But I didn’t believe that, not anymore. Jericho might end up being the best thing that ever happened to me, and that terrified me most of all.
He’ll never choose you over the club.
My mother’s warning rattled through me, and I reminded myself I still planned to leave. I still planned to get out of here as soon as I could. Jericho had no place in that plan, and I needed to remember that.