Veiled Amor by V. Theia

TWENTY

“You get a hot biker. You get a hot biker. You all get a hot biker.” - Lucia

 

 

There were lots of different levels of handsome men.

The pretty model type with flawless looks and manly manicures to match. Then there was the rough and tumble type of men. The kind you knew they didn’t give a shit about getting their worn jeans dirty if they mounted a woman on the floor to fuck her brains out. Every man there was the latter, and her heart clattered like she was having an out-of-body anxiety moment.

Gorgeous was not the word for what she was looking at.

Left and right and in the middle, it was wall to wall sexy men.

Beards. Designer stubble. Fitted jeans. Tight shirts. Flexing muscles. Inked skin. Veins for days.

Oh my.

“If you stare any harder, amor, your eyeballs will explode.”

Instant heat hit her cheeks as she turned her red face toward a scowling Capone. She whacked him lightly in the stomach. Not that he would have felt it, he was another hard-all-over gorgeous man. “Shut up. You didn’t tell me your friends were… were…”

“What? Choose your words carefully.”

Each time he growled, she grew wet.

Could a sound turn her on?

Yes. His moans turned her on.

But getting back to the room of hot stud muffins.

They were men who made a woman’s knees weak, and her pussy soaked.

Deep, rough laughter. Bodies built for war. She bet they didn’t have a politically correct bone in their bodies because they were old-school men. The ones who opened a door for a woman and slapped her ass when she walked through it.

She felt the contact high from the oozing sexual energy and swagger surrounding her.

“I’ll have you know I’m a newly married woman, Capone. I don’t notice handsome men anymore.”

No one had more swagger than Capone’s swagger.

Of all the handsome men there, he was the sexiest, the only man she was attracted to in a way that made her flush all over. He was dizzyingly sexy. And he was looking at her with a jealous scowl, deep enough to delight her.

“I swear on Sephora I haven’t noticed all the sexy men in front of me. Nope. Not even a little. They’re like trolls. Bridge trolls with oozing warts. Ugh, they’re so ugly, it makes me sick even to look at them.”

His show-stopper eyes narrowed to slits, and Lucia dissolved into giggles.

Oh, this was delicious.

Feeling airy, she leaned a shoulder against his chest to let him know she was with the hottest man in the room, but allowed her eyes to travel around because hell, she wasn’t blind. It was like she’d arrived at a model convention, if the models looked like serial killers with designer beards and asses hard enough to bounce quarters off.

“This was a mistake bringing you here,” he all but snarled. “Should have left you at home, locked in a closet wearing a blindfold and earmuffs.”

Ha. Funny. Lucia turned a grin on him, nudging his chest. Flames licked around her neck. She’d never been good at hiding her feelings, so if they were on display, he saw them too.

She was slightly buzzed on two drinks.

Happy and with Capone. The only man in the world who existed for her. Stupidly so, but the truth. She bumped his shoulder. “Can I have another drink, please?”

 

 

* * *

 

She was a lightweight with liquor, and he didn’t want to have to carry her home.

Lie.

He’d love her in his arms, being soft and cuddly.

A bonus if she got drunk and grabby.

He returned a minute later with a cherry vodka with lots of ice for her.

“You are my hero,” she stated, giving him starry-eyes.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Absolutely. There’s so much to see in this place.”

His back teeth ground together. She was ogling the brothers. He wondered if he should pull the fire alarm to clear the clubhouse.

With any other new female, he would have laughed at her antics, being in awe of the bikers. It happened all the time. He took it in his stride if women wanted to treat them like celebrities. It was bullshit. Capone still put his pants on, one leg at a time, and stood to take a piss. But he’d known for a while now that being part of a one-percenter MC meant their reputations were put on pedestals from rumors alone, growing until they were admired and feared in equal measure.

He didn’t want Lucia laughing at one of Grinder’s jokes or listening aptly to Preacher’s antics. It didn’t matter how neither man would stray from their old ladies. It mattered to Capone that Lucia was enchanted in someone that wasn’t him.

His only saving grace to keeping a cap on his temper was she’d stuck to his side like glue. And being a newly possessive man, he didn’t mind at all.

Over the hour, she was friendly. Soaking up conversations like a sponge. He didn’t know how lonely she’d been, but he recognized when a woman was hungry for friendships.

She wasn’t flirting. He needed to cool the growls waiting to erupt from his throat.

Instead, he palmed the back of her neck, felt how she leaned into his hand.

Good girl. Now he could breathe while she talked to Paige and Reaper, listening raptly as Paige explained their fated relationship. When she turned her eyes around to him, he frowned seeing tears. “It’s so romantic. Did you know their story, Gi?”

“Sí.”

And then she did something he didn’t expect. She burst into tears, all but falling out of her chair; she climbed into his lap, burying her face in his chest and she cried.

What the hell?

What else could he do but put his arms around her? Paige smiled at him as if she understood the sudden waterworks. Wish someone would explain it to Capone because he was shit out of clues.

“That’s real love, Giancarlo,” Lucia hiccupped when she lifted her face. Even with tear streaks, she was effortlessly beautiful. He could lean down and suck on her lip; he could lick the tears away, tasting how salty she was. “It’s like a fairytale. I’m never going to have someone who loves me that much they wait for years.”

The punch of her words hit him square in the chest.

You have that already, amor. Right here.

It was then he caught the eyes of one of his friends watching them.

Gia knew about Lucia.

Not right away. He’d only talked about his grief. But eventually, Lucia’s name filtered into their conversations. And now the woman was curled up in his lap.

He felt exposed, but it wouldn’t stop him from comforting her.

“Of course you will, nena. Now stop crying, or I’ll cut off the drinks.”

Or he’d kiss her because she was looking at his mouth and sucking her lower lip between her teeth. Arousal slammed into him, filling his balls, hardening his cock. She gasped and stilled; that’s when he knew she’d felt his hardness under her ass.

“My… my tears turned you on? You’re a sick monster.” She chuckled. Tears gone.

Everything about Lucia turned him on.

The way she nibbled on food or her lower lip.

How she smiled when she should be depressed about her life. She saw the good in people, him included. Her optimism seeped down to his bones and made him ache.

He grunted an answer, and she seemed delighted by it, until his thumb betrayed him and pressed against her smile.

“I like your friends,” she whispered from behind his thick thumb, nibbling it a little enough to drive him mad. “But I like you best of all.”

How was he meant to resist her after that?

He nearly bent in to touch her lips with his, dying to taste her, his head descending when she told him. “I’m hungry.” She even little-girl whined in his face, and he was sunk because he got to his feet instantly to fix what she needed.

Snake was standing at the counter when Capone strode into the kitchen. He was holding a bread knife and a thick loaf of bread in the other hand. Of course, since he got back to the clubhouse, he’d been the one full of stories for Lucia. She’d hung off Snake’s every word.

“Hey, pass those over when you’re done, papi.”

“You need a few slices?”

“I will do it. Lucia’s hungry.”

“I’m already slicing bread, it’s no big deal to do more.”

“Listen to what I’m saying, hermano, I’m making Lucia’s food.”

Snake started cackling. “I get it, brother. You want to provide for your old lady. That shit gets me off too with my Winter. She usually gets cute and mushy when I do shit for her.”

If anyone were going to profit from Lucia’s pleasured food moans, it was going to be Capone because he’d fixed the food to her liking.

Capone grunted. What else could he say? Admit his feelings like a dumbass?

“I like her.” Snake added. “I like her for you.”

Another grunt. This time, he caught Snake’s eyes as the other man grinned. He left Capone to craft a sandwich carefully, then carried it through on a plate to a waiting Lucia, who all but fell on his hand and nibbled her way through it while he watched her mouth. The way she watched him as she bit into the soft bread and cheese, her eyes half-lidded, became something erotic. It stirred the air as she licked crumbs from her lip.

Capone’s cock jerked in his jeans.

Unable to look away, her pupils dilated like two round suns blazing arousal, and he was tempted to ease a hand down her leggings and to take care of the sizzling electricity she was displaying with every moaned bite.

Dios. He was so sick in the head to want to make her feel good again. He felt like an addict by wanting to service her, even when he knew he was wrong.

He’d already fucked up by kissing her, touching her. But the thoughts were front and center, making the screws turn in his dick until he was a thick pipe of need. He wanted to make her dripping wet until she couldn’t come anymore, until she was only clinging hands and panting whimpers.

Every swallow for Capone was agony because he craved to taste her. All he had now were deviant memories. But he wanted more. Eat her until she couldn’t take any more and ripped at his hair. Lick her dry.

The blood pounded through his ears. All other noises surrounding them fell away, leaving only Lucia’s eyes. Lucia’s mouth. And Capone’s hard-pumping heart.

It was utter silence between them.

Her beauty almost killed him.

He’d seen no one so fucking erotic doing nothing else but existing.

As if she’d latched onto his deviant thoughts, Lucia’s eyes came to him, and she paused. The half sandwich dropped to the plate, and when she finally swallowed, it felt as though the air surrounding them was a million degrees.

They both had sex in mind.

That much was clear.

Lucia looked up at him. “Take me home.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Very sure.”

He reached up a thumb and brushed it over the lip she’d been biting on. It was plump and wet, and soon it would wear his teeth marks.

The next few minutes of herding her out to his bike were a blur. The ride didn’t register because he focused on the beautiful cargo, rubbing her face over his back like she was trying to imprint her scent.

He could have told her she did that eons ago.

He’d phantom smelled Lucia in the strangest of places until it made him crazy.

Capone lifted a hand from the bars and placed it over her clasped hands, resting on his belly.

Was she anticipating the hours ahead as much as he was?

Fuck, he hoped so, because he wanted to fuck her until they couldn’t move.