“You play guitar?” Kit asked with a squeeze of my thigh. It was getting late. A lot of men had found their women for the night and had taken things to the bedrooms or a quiet corner. Kit had barely touched me throughout the night, other than a hand at my back to direct me around the room or a hand on my bare thigh. And it wasn’t to say I hadn’t tried. I was beginning to wonder whether he actually wanted me and if he didn’t, why he was demanding my presence for the entire night.
There was only a small group of us left. A couple of Kit’s men, including Tally, who had taken quite a shine to Kat. Optimus and Chelsea, who were all but screwing on the couch opposite us, and Blizzard and Slider, who had come in after their shift at X-Rated.
Chelsea piped up from her space on Optimus’ lap. “She does! She’s really good too.”
Kit gave me a small shove. “Go get your guitar,” his voice was stern. No space for argument. I rolled my eyes and retrieved my guitar from my room, throwing the strap over my shoulder and strumming at it as I walked down the hallway.
“Play ‘Me And My Broken Heart,’” Chelsea asked solemnly. I didn’t miss the way her eyes flicked to Optimus. The look was meaningful and something played out between them silently.
The song was Chelsea’s number one request, secretly one of my favorites too. There were no objections, everyone sat quietly with their eyes on me. I didn’t play for the men very often. Music was a large piece of my life, but one I kept very separate from my club life.
Kit’s fingers tapped the arm of the couch in time with the song. His eyes never deviated from me. Always watching. Studying. Like there was something he was waiting for.
I closed my eyes. Losing myself in the rhythm of the music was one of my favorite parts of playing. It allowed me to feel the lyrics. If I could sense what the person was trying to express when they wrote the song, it made it all that more powerful, more intimate.
As I hit the pre-chorus of the song, my eyes shot open wide when I heard a harmony coming from one of the men. Mix, one of Kit’s men, began to sing along with me. I watched as he sat forward and started tapping out a drum style beat on the small wooden coffee table in front of him. I grinned as I met Mix’s eyes and we both belted out the chorus. I couldn’t stop smiling when the song was finished and I put my guitar down. Mix reached over and offered me his fist which I bumped and then exploded just like the way Tally had taught me.
“Girl, your voice is incredible,” Mix complimented.
I blushed and sat back on the couch. Kit slipped his arm behind me and cradled my waist, pulling me tightly against his body. The most affection he’d shown all night since our hallway encounter.
“Thanks. I’m at the college here studying music. Mainly writing and playing, but I sometimes sing too.”
“I’ve heard you play before, but nothing like that. It was like you were in another world,” Slider said, staring at me in awe.
“Thanks,” was all I managed, the compliments all making me want to hide away.
Kit’s lips brushed my ear. “Which room’s yours?”
I pointed toward the hallway that led to the club girls’ rooms. We all had individual rooms downstairs, easy for the men when they needed us. The Brothers who lived at the clubhouse were in the rooms upstairs.
“I’ll meet you there in five,” he whispered for my ears only and tapped my side twice. I sat forward and gripped my guitar.
“Night all.”
Slider smiled at me. “You going to bed alone, Harmz? Need someone to keep you warm?” I cringed. Saying no to a Brother was a big no-no, unless we felt like the situation was harmful or we felt unsafe. Target’s little performance the other day didn’t go unnoticed by Optimus, but in the end he had agreed that my refusal was valid.
“She’s fine,” Kit snapped. Slider held up his hands in surrender, the both of us are a little surprised by his sharp tone. Kit turned to me and flicked his head. “Go.”
I nodded quickly and hustled down the hall to my room. Leaving the door ajar, I proceeded to strip off my top and skirt. After watching Kit all night, the way he spoke, and the way he controlled the room and his men, I was more than ready for him to do the same to me.
The sense of need overwhelmed any of my other feelings. It was a strange feeling, one I’d never felt so strongly before. I wanted his body, slick and grinding on top of me, leading me and demanding my submission to him. Kit had driven me crazy, avoiding my advances but continuing to hold me captive for the entire night. Several explanations floated through my mind. Maybe he was just a private man, preferring to take his sexual encounters somewhere away from prying eyes. Or maybe he was just that controlling that he liked the idea of me following him around like a lost puppy while he teased me, knowing I couldn’t leave his side.
I quickly perked my breasts up inside my strapless bra. The matching bra and panties set was a gorgeous scarlet color with an intricate black lace trim. My favorite. I sat at the edge of the bed, my arms behind me, propping me up and my legs crossed.
It didn’t take long for the door to slowly swing open. Kit stood in the doorway, his tall stature allowing him to grip the top of the frame, his shirt lifting to show me a delicious sliver of his tanned and well-sculptured stomach. His eyes sparkled as they finally met my body.
I stood up slowly, one hand going to my hair and brushing it away from my face. He dipped his head, continuing to stare at me through dark hooded eyes.
“You giving yourself to me?” He moved inside the room and closed the door. His body filled the small space as he floated closer.
I nodded and he reached out to wrap his large hand around the back of my neck much the same as Target had done to me a couple of days before. My lips parted and a tiny gasp escaped. But this time I wasn’t scared, Target’s grip had been menacing and done purposely to cause me pain, to show me who was boss. Kit’s grasp was possessive and intimate like he was trying to connect us.
He stepped closer, allowing me to finally be within reach of his body. I took full advantage, slipping my hands under his shirt and cut and exploring his body with just my touch. I felt tiny bumps rise on his skin, leaving a trail behind the path of my hands and letting me know he was just as affected by this as I was. His stomach rippled with abs and his skin was silky smooth under my fingers.
“Good. Now we have that established, I’m fucking exhausted and need some damn sleep. Get into bed,” he gruffed, releasing me and walking into my small bathroom. I stood there stunned, staring at the room he’d disappeared into. I heard the tap running and splashing water.
What in the actual fuck just happened?